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owenshire · 3 years

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Robert Muhlbock (virtually) Inducts Nine Inch Nails into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame 2020

Nine Inch Nails. One band, and often one man, with a computer (and guitar) against the world. Oh yes, Nine Inch Nails have added members for live performances and gained members (well, a member) for studio compositions, but from this “band-like-musical-entity’s” earliest days, it was just one person—one person who combined pop-hooks with industrial whirs, and harrowing rage with uncomfortable vulnerability. And his name is Trent Reznor.

No one should claim that Nine Inch Nails invented a genre. They didn’t. But they sure as hell popularized and perfected it. Electronic, Industrial, ‘Disco Death Metal’—whatever you want to call it, the labels don’t really matter. In fact, I think the genre should just be called “sounds like Nine Inch Nails” which is compliment enough on its own, right?

Nine Inch Nails are one of the most important, vital, inspirational, talented, and unique of musical artists. I love them. And now I’m going to tell you why…in a lengthy video essay, so settle in. And if you don’t have the fandom or attention span for what I’m about to say, go back to consuming shitty tweets and dumbfuck Instagram posts because you’re not wanted here anyway.

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My first introduction to NIN began like so many others: by catching the iconic video for “Head Like A Hole” on MTV—the band rocking out amidst electrical wires and magnetic tape, until it seemed like the entire writhing mess would consume them whole. It’s an image as potent today as it was some 30 years ago.

However, my real introduction to NIN was originally steeped in urban legend. I was in grade 10 and I heard Pretty Hate Machine played on my school bus on the way home. The owner of this cassette tape, a “cool girl” who shall remain nameless, told me that the album was “out of print” and “unavailable.” In short, she assured me that I would never be able to find a copy, but, guess what, I did.

In a trade with former MMA coach Shawn Tompkins—and in my grade 10 art class no less—I swapped two ninja stars for a box of his old cassette tapes, and Pretty Hate Machine was one of them. This was my own NINJA moment, if you will—does anyone get that reference—anyway, upon witnessing said trade some random guy in my art class immediately offered me $25 for the Pretty Hate Machine cassette tape—a king’s ransom in 1990—but of course I wouldn’t sell. I knew it was valuable—and in more than one way. Instead I played the hell out of the cassette in my Walkman. I was 14 years old. “Terrible Lie” was my favourite song from the album. And it still is.

And then—poof—like that, NIN dropped out of my life. Where’d they go? Well, I guess they were making a name for themselves during Lollapalooza 1991, white chalk dust and all. Not that I knew any of this. Pre-internet I had no idea what was going on. In fact, I wouldn’t hear any new NIN music until almost a full year later when one of my friends with a penchant for industrial music introduced me to the Broken EP. As he handed me his CD for borrowing, he warned me that it was “pretty extreme.” And he was right. The Broken EP is why album warning stickers were invented: it was a fist to the face, a kick to the face—it was even an ass to the face.

Anyway, the Broken EP was my real introduction to the seemingly bottomless rage of NIN. When I heard Broken I was just starting to get into so-called “heavy” music, but nothing could have prepared me for the lyrical and musical brutality of “Wish.” While Reznor’s litany of profanity was extreme—at least to my sheltered 16 year old ears—what truly staggered me was the song’s main riff (you know the one I mean) the one that is so distorted, so disturbing, that it sounds like a guitar being burned alive while flailing in a wind tunnel.

I’d never heard anything like it before—it wasn’t cock-rock; it wasn’t fake satanic rage done for laughs, theatre or to impress--no. Instead it was the audio embodiment of complete destruction and utter despair. And 30 years later, it’s lost none of its power.

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These same sentiments must be applied to The Downward Spiral, Nine Inch Nail’s career defining work that launched the band into mainstream success. Too often discussions of the record get bogged down by emphasis on “Hurt” or “Closer,” or, to some extent, “Heresy.”

Yes, “Hurt” is the perfect album closer and expression of pleading vulnerability, and, yes, “Closer” and “Heresy’s” choruses were brutally raw and shocking in 1994 (and, it should be said, still above average shocking in 2020), but I feel the album is best presented as a whole. This was the beginning of NIN’s discovery that (to paraphrase one rock critic) just as much tension can be generated with a whisper as with a scream.

Dynamics have always been a huge part of NIN’s’ sound, and The Downward Spiral stands as a defining moment. The album, as all of you know, begins with “Mr. Self Destruct” (well, that’s not entirely true—the album actually begins with the audio of what appears to be a man being beaten to death while submerged underwater)—but anyway, “Mr. Self Destruct” was as sonically astonishing to me as “Wish” was two years prior. As I listened to the verses of “Mr. Self Destruct” I kept asking myself “Is it supposed to sound like this? I can’t hear what he’s saying”—it was such a cacophony of meticulously detailed and layered noises, but of course not without substance or a melody: its quiet refrain of “And I control you” buried so deep in the mix, it mirrored the subconscious itself.

“Mr. Self Destruct” gives way to “Piggy”—again a haunting track that’s almost tender and such a shock in sequence given the song that preceded it. Again. Dynamics. Surprise. Making the atypical typical in the best non-traditional way. Does that make any sense? Anyway, I felt the same way about the mini-piano solo/ lyric pairing of “now doesn’t it make you feel better” before the dramatic pause in “March Of The Pigs”—I don’t think any of us saw THAT coming. I was literally shocked when that phrasing appeared out of no where, emerging like a tiny ironic rainbow out of the whirlwind of thrashing drums, crazy guitars, and “stains like blood on your teeth” screams the preceded it.

Speaking of screams, the title-track of The Downward Spiral still stands as a monument to vulnerability, despair, and pure abject horror. It’s the only song I’ve ever heard that I am afraid to listen to. When I listen to The Downward Spiral, I wait for the song the way a child hides behind a blanket awaiting glimpses of a film monster: I know it’s coming, and I know it’s going to be horrifying…and it always is. So why do I subject myself to it?

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That’s a fair question. Let’s be frank here: Nine Inch Nails isn’t for everyone. It takes a certain personality to fully appreciate the band’s complete package of black, blue, and bleeding, “but you can dance to it!” Still, NIN is more than mere nihilism and hopelessness. Those who label the band in such ways, kind of miss the point. To me, NIN has always been—lyrically at least—about catharsis: I suppose ALL music functions as such—a tool of understanding, and a mechanism for coping. Trent Reznor once commented on the vulnerability of his lyrics, saying in an interview with NPR that his topic of choice was less about vanity than it was about delivering a performance with honesty and integrity. The only topic that mattered—his emotional struggle—was the only subject he could speak about with authority and with conviction.

However, it just so happens to be a struggle that millions of other people share. When Trent Reznor sings “Now you know/ this is what it feels like” on The Fragile’s “The Wretched,” he is inviting his audience to share in his pain. Whether he intended it this way or not, his is a gesture borne or isolation but ending in comradery: many of us certainly know what “this” “feels like.” And many, many more of us can certainly relate to the words “Dear World, I can hardly recognize you anymore.”

In short, Trent Reznor’s lyrics, as personal as they are, speak for us: his fans. He speaks for me. He still does.

Interestingly, themes consistent in NIN’s best work offer a type of almost emotional ambivalence: caring, but not caring; wanting to be helped, yet rejecting help; and most importantly, wanting to be alone, yet desperately wishing to connect with others. The songs “We’re In This Together” and “The Fragile” perfectly illustrate these sentiments. To me, it is no coincidence they are sequenced side by side on the “some-critics-didn’t-like-it-at-the-time-but-have-since-come-to-their-senses-album” The Fragile.

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Musically, however, NIN is best known for three distinct styles of music: computer chaos, groovy beats, and symphonic soundscapes. I’ve touched on the first—and will return to it—but for now, let’s discuss the second. I’m not a huge fan of the term “death-disco”; however, NIN’s long list of ass-shaking beats, should not be overlooked. What began on Pretty Hate Machine with “Sin” and “The Only Time,” pleasantly resurface on “Into The Void” only to be perfected on “The Hand That Feeds,” “Only” “Capital G,” and “Discipline” not to mention a large portion of Hesitation Marks.

But back to computer chaos—or maybe just chaos in general. I can think of no better example to illustrate my point than the final coda to the song “The Great Destroyer” on the fabulous dystopian opus Year Zero—one of my favourite albums of all time: the sound of things falling apart—wires frayed, systems destroyed, screens cracked: static humming and ‘please stand by’ messages flicking forever. The Eater of Dreams. “All we ever were—just zeros and ones.”

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The final cornerstone of NIN’s musical contribution is soundscapes and instrumentals, and what a can of worms THAT is given all that’s transpired since 2011. Anyway, when The Fragile was released in 1999, more than a few fans bemoaned its inclusion of no less than 7 instrumentals, and yet these contributions have always been a signature addition to NIN’s body of work: from “pinion,” “help me I am in hell,” “a warm place,” the deeply personal “La Mer,” to Ghosts I through VI, NIN’s experiments with sound have always been integral to their songwriting process—a willingness to experiment and a love of discovery which surprisingly, yet somewhat inevitably, lead to NIN’s work in soundtracks. Beginning somewhat inadvertently with Tony Scott’s Man On Fire (look it up), and then deliberately on the video game Quake, this creative direction eventually resulted in (as we all know) various Oscar and Emmy nominations and wins for Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross, and yeah, while technically not “Nine Inch Nails” releases, I think we can all agree it’s hard to separate the two sometimes because as we all know, the line begins to blur, amiright?

The point is this: Nine Inch Nails were and are no strangers to pushing boundaries musically, visually, and artistically. Some defining unconventional moments in the band’s career to me are as follows:

· The 97 one-second tracks on the Broken EP before its final two songs; the infamous Broken film itself—a movie I found on a bootlegged VHS tape and rented for a mere 1 dollar at the time—and then proceeded to wish that I never did.

· Moving on, there is of course the band’s seminal 1994 Woodstock performance, where the musicians arrived on stage in a foggy haze, caked head to toe in mud, and bringing the apocalypse with them;

· Next we have the Alternate Reality Game developed around the release of Year Zero,

· There was the free download of The Slip; and the free downloads of Ghosts V and VI some years later

· Who could also forget about the NINREMIX website where fans were invited to remix the band’s songs and post them for all to enjoy, and copyright be damned.

· Um, there was also that time they said “a heartfelt fuck you” to the Grammy’s.

· And finally we have Nine Inch Nail’s unexpected live appearance on the rather toned down Austin City Limits.

And the list goes on. Trent Reznor once explained such actions in the most self-aware terms possible: he likes pushing himself (as well as his fans) out of comfort zones, to flirt with mainstream conventions but to approach and execute them as only Nine Inch Nails can: with integrity and—to borrow Trent’s appraisal of the late David Bowie—“uncompromising vision.”

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Speaking of integrity and uncompromising vision, NIN’s humility is one of the band’s most inspiring and endearing characteristics. In Reznor’s case, we’re talking about an accomplished artist who admitted publically that he still feels he has so much to learn about his craft—that he’s barely scratched the surface regarding his mastery of sound and songwriting; a man that mocked his own starry eyed expression upon receiving an Oscar by pairing it with the caption “I see unicorns” and inviting fans to provide similar self-deprecating taglines. A man who speaks in measured tones about his opportunities and successes in his life—and does so, repeatedly I might add, quietly, humbly, and gratefully.

Such self-awareness is extremely rare in show-business let alone by a band that’s achieved as much as Nine Inch Nails.

And guess what? Here’s the thing. I think there’s no stopping them. With Nine Inch Nails—particularly, Trent and Atticus no matter what they call themselves and until they are inducted into the IHOR as solo artists, anything’s possible:

· Scoring a children’s movie? The upcoming Pixar film Soul? Why not? Let’s have some more. Give me a children’s album!

· Creating a vintage jazz ballad (the unparalleled “The Way It Used to Be”) in a week and making it indistinguishable from other songs of the era? Of course!

· Winning a Tony Award to become part of the EGOT club—I say sure. In fact, prediction: before the end of the world (so basically, in about 30 years) Nine Inch Nails will get an EGOT. There. Prove me wrong.

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In 1997 Spin Magazine once hailed Trent Reznor as “the most vital artist in music today,” while in that same year Trent Reznor appeared on Time Magazine’s list of the top 25 most influential Americans.

These accolades were well earned; however, I prefer a statement made by some music magazine critic whose name escapes me in their review of a Nine Inch Nails album whose name also escapes me: they said, “we can only hope something else pisses him off,” sentiments which I’m sure are echoed by many, and to which I reply…there seems to be no worry about that.

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Nine Inch Nails encompass a facet of popular art that is as necessary as it is compulsory: they remind us that the world is not pleasant; tragedy is inevitable; the game is rigged; faith is a lie; and everyone you know will abandon or disappoint you.

But guess what? If you’re lucky, the way out is through, motherfuckers.

I am honoured to induct Nine Inch Nails into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

#trent reznor #Robert Muhlbock #Owenshire #Nine Inch Nails #Rock and Roll Hall of Fame #Rock Hall 2020 #The Fragile #Year Zero #Pretty Hate Machine #Broken #Hesitation Marks #The Downward Spiral

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photolover82 · 3 years

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The Masked Singer Season 4 Episode 5: Last but not Least, let's (finally) meet Group C! (Commentary and Guesses)

Hey fellow Masked Singer fans! Welcome or welcome back to Ana’s Masked Singer recap, where I, Ana, recap every episode of the Masked Singer. I am so happy to be back after a short break after the World Series (thank God for the Dodgers). If you don’t know how these recaps go, first of all hi, feel free to follow me if you want to see more of these. Anyways, so how these work is that I first talk about who gets eliminated, give my thoughts, and then give my guesses and commentary for the remaining contestants and their performances. I also try to back up my guesses as much as I can by using the clues... even though I guide myself with the voice of the individual contestant. Anyways, having said that, let’s jump into it:

Warning ⚠️: If you haven’t watched the show yet, there are spoilers below, so read at your own risk.. this is your official spoiler alert warning. Don’t say I didn’t warn you...

With this episode, we met our last group of contestants, Group C, which consists of 5 masked characters, Squiggly Monster, Mushroom, Jellyfish, Lips, and Broccoli. Overall, to me, they are the weakest group vocal wise, but they were still fun to watch.

Alright, so let’s talk about the eliminated contestant, who was...

*DRUMROLL PLEASE*

Lips 💋

Performance: Alright, so she sang “Native New Yorker,” by Odessy.... and I really try to be as kind and constructive as I can with these recaps especially when critiquing their performances because being rude really doesn’t solve anything and I want you guys to understand why I don’t like a performance if I dislike a performance (so we can start an open dialogue you get me?) ... but I am so sorry, this lady can’t sing like at all. Oh and I knew exactly who she was (haha insert Ken’s voice into that phrase lol) the moment she opened her mouth. The thing is she is talking and she messed up in the middle by laughing/snorting in the performance, it was kind of hilarious not gonna lie... it made me laugh, which I guess is a good thing, but like yeah it’s kind of obvious why she left first, because she (I mean no offense to this.. well maybe I do because I am not a fan of the person under this mask like at all since she ain’t kind and civil like at all) blew it, like it kinda felt like she messed up on purpose or that she is actually horrible at singing, which is ok because she isn’t supposed to be a professional singer and that’s fine. All that to say Lips made me laugh and I appreciate it but I am kind of glad she was the first one to go....

Anyways, she was revealed to be (to no surprise of my own) controversial talk show host...

Wendy Williams

Whoop whoop, I got it right (as did like everyone who knows who she is because her voice is that distinct... oh and also she spoke during the song so it was kind of obvious, but I am still claiming my victory: Gotten 3/5 correct so far and I am proud of that number)! Anyways here are the clues that pointed to her:

Shock= she says very shocking things on her show and is a pretty polarizing figure, you either love her or hate her (I am not fond of her myself but whatever I guess)

“Speak my truth”= she’s known for stating her mind and is unfiltered with her thoughts on things

West Wing= her initials WW

Fire= Hot Takes is a segment on her show and also a reference to her book Wendy’s Got The Heat

Alright, now that we have finished with her, let’s talk about our remaining 4 masked contestants:

1. Squiggly Monster 👾

Performance: I really liked his performance of Have You Ever Seen the Rain by Creedence Clearwater Revival. He did super well, like I really liked it, I had low expectations because of the costume (it’s kind of creepy looking ngl) but I was pleasantly surprised. Having said that, the moment I heard him, because of his tone, I knew exactly who it was (again insert Ken’s voice here)...

So, for my guess, I think it is Full House actor/comedian:

Bob Saget

Ok, so besides the voice, lemme give you why I think that clues wise (credit goes to this Screen Rant article for the details idk on my own):

Penguin visual in the package= he directed a parody nature documentary called Farce of the Penguins

Father and a scoundrel= father part due to him actually being a father to 3 girls/his role on Full House as Danny Tanner (a single father of 3 daughters which I think is wow funny) and the scoundrel part referring to his raunchy/dirty comedy

Cookie clues= nod to Michelle from Full House and her love of cookies

“Breaking News” and him on a news show kind of thing= reference to his Full House character Danny Tanner being an anchor for Good Morning San Francisco

He also was on the show as a shrimp cocktail as the friend for the Taco aka Tom Bergeron! So it makes sense for him to come back this season which I am all into

2. Mushroom 🍄

Performance: Ok, so this is like the most confusing, is it a he or is it a she? That’s the biggest question, my money’s on a boy... so my guess is going to be male (I am gonna call Mushroom a he because of that so I apologize if I am misgendering them, I just need to narrow it down somehow and I am gendering them based on who I think it is, and I feel like he is the correct pronoun). Anyways, I love him, he’s my favorite Group C contestant, and his performance of This Woman’s Work was amazing, people said it was not good, but I really enjoyed it because I am a sucker for a good falsetto and this guy was almost all falsetto, I was feeling it. Having said that, maybe I like him so much because I feel like it is someone I adore, like if I meet him, I will faint status...

Having said that, I think it is Broadway star, heartthrob, actor, singer, adorable human...

Jordan Fisher

Omg he is so cute... sorry I am gonna stop being 😍 for him I promise. Anyways, big clue was a video of him singing this exact song (I think it sounds so similar, but you guys can judge for yourselves), here it is: https://youtu.be/3lzRsMl8M8Q

youtube

Apart from that, here are some actual clues (with a bit of help from this Screen Rant article) that got my mind thinking it is him:

WAITTT 🤔... before we get into that, what I found interesting is that he tweeted and I quote “Seasonal tweet to let everyone know that ____ on the masked singer is once again not me 💜” and THE MASKED SINGER RETWEETED IT... but also I just checked and this is the first time he’s ever had to clear that up... soooo maybe he’s a liar (bc of an NDA ofc you cannot really spill the beans.... but let’s go with he’s a liar)... a cute liar... but he’s lying.

Ok, now onto the clues:

A lot of Hamilton clues= “a healer and a scholar,” “young, scrappy, and fun-gy,” “shroom where it happens” = he replaced Anthony Ramos as John Laurens/Philip Hamilton in the Broadway musical Hamilton (and also can reference his Broadway roots in general like being on Dear Evan Hansen)

Started at a “rat race” and Men in Black were mice= could be a reference to his start on Disney (Liv and Maddie and Teen Beach Movie)

A shot to turn a hobby into a career= reference to him streaming video games on Twitch

Stars clue with audience= he won Dancing with the Stars back in 2017 and also hosted DWTS Junior

3. Jellyfish 💚

Performance: I really liked her performance of Big Girls Don’t Cry by Fergie even though I felt like she was holding back a bit (I can kind of say the same about Mushroom... but I still enjoyed it). I am really curious to see what she can really do, because I felt her nerves in the performance and like she can do more. This one’s killing me because I feel like I have heard that voice but I can’t put my finger on who it could be

So, with that said, I have no idea who to guess:

But I do know that it isn’t ✨Billie Elish✨

No, but like seriously, that ain’t Billie Elish even tho a lot of people are guessing it, I am not buying it... you’ll see why in a second, here are the clues:

The Little(ish) Jellyfish title on a book

Reigned supreme in an underwater kingdom

Fans, Tiara (“princess”)

Angel Fish

Flower Crown

Missed out on normal girl stuff like parties and making friends

Billie Elish “Bad Guy” lyrics in the background= that’s way too obvious for it to be Billie Elish

4. Broccoli 🥦

Performance: His performance of House is Rockin’/Whole Lotta Shakin Going On by Stevie Ray Vaughan/Jerry Lee Lewis was not what I expected to be honest. I thought it was going to be someone younger or a rapper, but it was an older gentlemen, and he was rockin, not gonna lie. I really liked it, not my favorite though I don’t think he is bad by any means. Anyways, I feel like I know who it is... maybe I am getting this from another person on YT’s guess who I really liked (Shoutout to them idk their user sorry)

So, for my guess for the Broccoli, I think it is legendary singer...

Paul Anka

The reason why is because of the following clues:

Can of Soup= he won a Campell’s Soup competition and that jump started his career

Tik Tok reference= his song Put Your Head on My Shoulder went viral on Tik Tok

Also, the letterman jacket is very 60s which is his era I guess (my mom knows more ab it than I do)

Anyways, that’s it, guys! I hope you enjoyed this recap, I apologize for how long they are, it’s kind of my thing lol! Don’t forget to comment your guesses (do you agree with me? Disagree? I wanna know below... especially Jellyfish guesses bc I have no idea who she can be), like, and follow for more Masked Singer content. I’ll see you all next week for the Group C Playoffs! Bye guys! 👋🏼

#the masked singer season 4 #the masked singer #themaskedsinger #celebrities #hollywood #movies #music #tv series #tv shows #wendy williams #lipsmask #bob saget #jordan fisher #paul anka #performance

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madeofstardust17 · 5 years

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Whumptober prompt 21. Hallucinations

Rating: G

Tw: none

Team as family

Oh boy is this angsty. There's a special bonus at the end bc it's my baby boy's bday.

...

The paladins of Voltron looked like scared teenagers.

They were teenagers, so young Shiro sometimes felt angry that they had to fight in a war, that he was leading a team of child soldiers.

But today they looked like teens. Today, they weren’t the paladins of Voltron, they were lonely kids away from home.

He scanned the room.

Lance was looking at the floor, hunched over with a sober look on his face. From time to time, his face would crumble as tears would spring to his eyes. He would shake his head and continue like nothing had happened.

Hunk wasn’t moving at all, and was just covering his face with his hands.

Pidge’s face was blotchy and her eyes were bloodshot, but had stopped crying.

And Keith just sat there, leaning into the sofa with his eyes closed, almost as if he were sleeping.

Shiro ran a hand through his hair

“Guys” he called, they all looked at him “we have to talk about what happened”

Lance smiled humorlessly “there’s nothing to talk about” he said “we were captured and led to believe we were home, and then you woke us up and reality punched us in the face”

His voice shook slightly at the end.

No one spoke.

And as Shiro opened his mouth to say something, Pidge scoffed and rubbed her eyes

“Look at us, the mighty paladins of Voltron, falling to pieces because of some hallucinations” she barked out a laugh “We’re pathetic”

Shiro sprang up from his eat so fast everyone looked at him in shock.

“No” his voice was hard and even “I want you to listen to me very carefully” he lowered his tone, making it sound almost threatening. Lance and Hunk looked a bit scared but he didn’t care, he needed them to understand.

He met everyone’s eyes one by one before speaking.

“What happened today, those hallucinations, they’re psychological torture” he ran a hand through his hair again, suddenly nervous “I’ve seen it before, when I was a prisoner. I don’t know how they do it, but they make you see the people you want to see the most. Then those people ask you questions, regarding the information the galra want from you. If you still don’t answer them, the hallucination changes, and you see the people getting tortured” his expression darkened “I’ve seen the toughest aliens crying and pleading as they ‘see’ their loved ones tortured”

Silence filled the room. Finally, Pidge broke it

“Have they ever used it on you? Is that why you were able to wake up?”

Shiro shook his head with a wry smile

“No. They made me see my grandfather... and Adam” Keith, who was looking at the ground again, looked at him briefly, but quickly looked away when Shiro caught his eye.

“My grandfather was the one who raised me. He died shortly after I graduated from the Garrison”

Pidge looked down at her lap

“Oh”

More silence as they all lost themselves in their thoughts.

Shiro allowed this for a few minutes before he spoke again.

“We need to talk about it”

“Why?” He wasn’t surprised when he saw Keith tense up, already defensive. Shiro glared right back

“Because it’s important. Because we have been tortured today and I’d be one shitty leader if I let you walk out of here without talking about it” he looked around the room “now… who’s going to start?”

Silence again. Until…

“You all saw my reaction” Pidge huffed. Shiro was surprised, he had expected Pidge to be second-to-last, Keith being the obvious last.

“I was crying until we reached the lions. I saw Matt, and my dad, and mom” she didn’t say anything for a few moments “is it wrong that I wanted to stay there? That I wanted to believe it was real?”

“No” Lance told her. He looked like he wanted to reach out and hug her, but looked scared about the reaction. He met Shiro’s eye, asking, and Shiro nodded subtly. Lance put an arm around Pidge. She leaned into him.

“I left my mom alone” she said, and her voice sounded unusually high “she doesn’t know if I’m alive. I told myself that I was doing the right thing when I ran away, but-“ her voice broke

“You feel guilty” Lance finished. She nodded, a few tears running down her cheeks.

“Katie” Pidge looked up, looking at Shiro with big honey eyes, which seemed amplified by the tears.

“We’re going to find your family. And when we do, because we will, you’re going to get them home, and you’re going to give your mom the biggest hug and apologize. And you’ll probably be grounded for the rest of your life” he said the last phrase quickly, and smiled when it made her laugh.

“Yeah” she agreed, rubbing her eye.

It wasn’t a perfect fix, Shiro told himself, but at least she had gotten it out of her chest.

When she didn’t speak anymore, Shiro looked at the three boys.

And this time it was Hunk who spoke up.

He looked pale, and his eyes were widened with horror.

“I was telling my parents about voltron” he said, and Shiro’s heart sank.

“How much?”

“I was telling them about you when you woke me up”

Shiro nodded, exhaling slowly

“They already know a lot about me, I doubt the learnt much”

“I’m so sorry”

His eyes were filled with tears, and he looked like he was going to be sick.

“It’s okay, Hunk” Shiro smiled at him “you didn’t do any harm”

“I knew there was something off, I could feel it” His voice was unusually husky now, and he was staring at the floor, as if transfixed.

“Hunk. Look at me”

He did, and a few tears escaped his red eyes.

“You have great instincts, Hunk. Listen to them. Something doesn’t feel right? You come tell me, or whoever you are with at the moment. Your gut hasn’t failed us yet”

Hunk nodded, sending his way a small but truthful smile.

Shiro gave Hunk a few moments to add something, and when he didn’t, he turned to the youngest of the boys

“Lance?”

Shiro had been surprised when Lance hadn’t been first to share, as he usually was. Now he looked more like Keith, defensive and closed off.

“I’ve already told” he said, crossing his arms “I thought I was home, and reality punched me in the face”

“You miss your home”

Lance nodded curtly, and then flicked away a tear like it was a pesky fly.

“It doesn’t matter”

“It does matter, Lance”

“It doesn’t. Being homesick won’t defeat Zarkon, and I’ve already bothered you all with this before-“

“You’re not a bother, Lance” Shiro cut him off. Lance hung his head but didn’t respond.

There was silence for a few moments.

“The thing about leaving a home…” Shiro looked at Keith, eyes wide. Keith continued, not looking away from Lance “is that the only way to quell homesickness is to find people that become home”

Lance went to speak, looking doubtful

“Take it from a kid who’s been in the system since he was eight”

The smirk that he sent Lance was gentle, not at all like he’s usual ones.

“Does it ever stop?” His voice was hoarse

“Not completely” Keith didn’t hesitate.

Lance seemed thankful Keith had told the truth, and smiled at him.

“I saw my dad” Keith said, leaning back and closing his eyes “big surprise there, he’s the only one I miss”

“Hey, Keith?” Pidge seemed hesitant. Keith hummed in question

“Do you ever miss earth?”

Keith opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling, thinking about it

“Sometimes. I miss sunsets, and my hoverbike, and my shack” he glanced at Pidge and smiled “but like I said, you guys are my home”

Everyone smiled, and Shiro felt pride rising in his chest.

He remembered the lonely, angry kid he had met, and marveled at the young man that sat in front of him.

“Shiro?”

Shiro jumped a bit, looking at Pidge

“What?”

“You need to say something too” Shiro frowned

“I already said”

“That didn’t count”

Shiro thought about it.

He couldn’t deny seeing Adam had made his heart ache, like an old wound in bad weather.

“I made peace with my grandfather’s death a long time ago, but I guess it hurt seeing Adam again, so happy to see me”

It was Lance who spoke this time

“Do you still love him?”

“I… Yeah” he said softly “I do” he scoffed “but I doubt he would take me back even if he hadn’t found someone else. I messed up”

“Yeah you did”

Shiro turned to look at Keith.

“When you disappeared, we stuck together for a while” he huffed out a laugh “we either cursed you to oblivion or we’d praise you”

He smiled, and then it faltered

“God, we were so hurt”

He looked at shiro, his eyes hard

“I don’t know if he’ll take you back, but I can promise you, he loved you even when you left”

Shiro smiled at him, a little sadly, but a little hopeful too.

“Thank you, Keith”

He looked around at his team.

The guilty, the sorry, the hurt and the mourning.

But he also saw something else in their expressions, the strange sort of peace that you get when you’re surrounded by loved ones.

By family.

And shiro knew he had done well today.

…

A bonus for Keith’s b-day:

They all lingered in the lounge room that night after dinner, instead of going to their bedrooms as usual.

Every time Shiro brought up going to bed, they would all try to ignore the comments.

Finally, the conversation drifted off, leaving a tense silence.

Shiro sighed. Teenagers

“Alright” he called “who wants to stay here tonight”

They all raised their hands.

10 minutes later, they were all laying down in the middle of the circle the couched formed.

They lay in their usual places: Shiro sandwiched between Keith and Pidge, Hunk in pidges other side, and Lance next to Keith, although this particular combination usually ended in bickering, and the two boys sulking as they were hit with multiple pillows.

Not tonight though.

Tonight they were all pleasantly dozing, maybe a little closer than they usually were, but no one pointed it out.

Pidge’s clocked bipped, signaling midnight.

Shiro turned to his side

“Hey, Keith?”

“Yeah?” He mumbled

“Happy birthday kiddo” he muttered, dropping a kiss on his head.

Keith's eyes opened

“Oh. Right”

They looked at each other before Keith huffed out a laugh

“I can’t believe you remembered”

“I can’t believe you forgot”

“Shut uuuupppp” Pidge moaned

“It’s Keith’s birthday” Shiro said. Keith groaned and buried his face on his pillow.

Pidge immediately sat up, wide awake.

“Whoa, really?”

“Why didn’t you tell, Mullet?” Lance whacked Keith’s shoulder

“I forgot” he mumbled, still buried underneath his pillow.

“Tomorrow- or later today I suppose- I’ll make those cookies you like so much” Hunk said.

That got Keith to abandon his hiding place.

He looked at Hunk hopefully

“Really?”

Hunk was weak to those big indigo eyes

“Of course”

He beamed at him, his whole face lighting up.

“We should all go raid Coran’s alcohol stash” Lance said “I know for a fact that he has more than nunvill in there”

“Absolutely not” Shiro spoke up, voice hard

“You’re no fun” Lance pouted. Keith snickered, feeling warm inside.

Silence followed, only broken by

“Happy birthday, Keith”

“Happy birthday, man”

“Happy b-day, buddy”

Keith grinned

“Thanks guys”

…

“You know, tomorrow I could cut your mullet, it’d be my birthday present to-“

“GOOD NIGHT LANCE”

...

Would you look at that? Not a cheesy ending. Comments give me life :)

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quinnybee-writes · 4 years

Text

Title: The Silence Is So Loud

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia/My Hero Academia: Vigilantes

Rating: G

Word Count: 1826

Summary:

Shouta didn’t want people to be soft and wary and kind to him; he didn’t want to be coddled and kept warm and dry. He wanted to storm and stalk and bulldoze his way through the rain until he looked as bad on the outside as he felt on the inside. He wanted to shove it into everyone’s performative, platitude-spewing faces and make them see that things were stupid and bad and would be that way forever because of him, no matter how much they patted him on the head and told him things would turn around eventually.

Picking up the pieces is always harder than it looks, but it gets easier if you have another set of hands.

**BNHA: Vigilantes Spoilers**

On AO3

Hizashi kept trying to share his umbrella as they walked home from school, half-jogging to stay in step with Shouta even as he tried to sidle out from under it. Shouta walked directly through some deep puddles to shake him but Hizashi kept pace with him, grimacing as his shoes flooded and the rainwater wicked up his pant legs to the knee. Shouta gritted his teeth in a flash of white-hot annoyance. He stalked away from Hizashi on the last few seconds of a crossing signal, stranding him and his stupid umbrella on the other side of the street. Even that only gained him a few moments alone in the downpour. Practically right on his heels he heard Hizashi shouting apologies to drivers as he scurried through traffic to catch up; a moment later the umbrella had returned. Shouta took a sharp left down a side street, shoving past Hizashi as he did. Hizashi took a moment to recover but soon enough he was back at Shouta’s side.

Shouta felt the last brittle strands on his patience snap like an overtuned piano wire in his chest. If there was one person he’d counted on to understand where he was right now, it was Hizashi. Shouta didn’t want people to be soft and wary and kind to him; he didn’t want to be coddled and kept warm and dry. He wanted to storm and stalk and bulldoze his way through the rain until he looked as bad on the outside as he felt on the inside. He wanted to shove it into everyone’s performative, platitude-spewing faces and make them see that things were stupid and bad and would be that way forever because of him, no matter how much they patted him on the head and told him things would turn around eventually. He wheeled on Hizashi, hands balled into fists. Before Hizashi could react, Shouta snatched the umbrella from him, closed it, and shoved it hard into his chest. Hizashi stared at him, mouth hanging open in shock, but Shouta was already blazing past him back towards the main street.

“I lost him too you know!” The sudden whipcrack of Hizashi’s voice made Shouta stop short. He turned to see Hizashi still standing where he’d left him, head down and hands shaking as he gripped his umbrella in white-knuckle fists.

“I decided I was okay with always being your second choice a long time ago, because at least then I was still a choice,” Hizashi went on. His voice was choked and raw in a way Shouta had never heard from him before. “But now you’re too busy being an asshole to even notice I exist!” Hizashi stormed over as he spoke, his voice climbing to a furious bark. “You just mope around with your head up your ass, leaving me behind like you don’t even care!” He punctuated his words by shoving Shouta in the chest again and again, sending him stumbling back a step each time. Shouta smirked bitterly. It sounded like Hizashi was finally realizing the trash he’d spent so long trying to elevate was just holding him back. Good for him. He turned away, ready to leave Hizashi to follow the thought through to the inevitable conclusion of Shouta’s worthlessness. Hizashi grabbed him hard by the jacket lapels, shaking him sharply and screaming, “Look at me!”

Shouta was so startled by the jolt that he did. At first he just felt confused by what he saw. Hizashi’s face was flushed and blotchy, the dark hollowness of his eyes made all the more obvious by the tears streaming down his face. Hizashi was genuinely, blazingly angry; worse still, he was crying. None of this made any sense. Hizashi didn’t get mad; he got salty and caustic and hilariously petty but he never seemed to have it in him to get mad. Likewise he might squeeze out a few tears for a cute baby animal video or when something especially sappy happened in a Disney movie, but never in choked, breathless sobs like this. Shouta stared, frozen, while his numb brain scrambled for a reaction.

The fight seemed to go out of Hizashi as their eyes finally met. He slumped forward onto Shouta’s neck, fists still gripping his jacket so hard Shouta could feel every knuckle straining. “I can’t,” he whispered. “I can’t do this by myself. Please. I need you, Shouta, please…”

This was wrong. No one needed him, he was the reason everything fell apart. No one should think the person who broke them this badly would be the one to fix things again. Shouta didn’t think he could fix anything now. Even so, some part of him wanted to try if it meant Hizashi wouldn’t hurt like this anymore. Slowly Shouta lifted his arms and wrapped them around Hizashi’s shoulders. Hizashi’s arms snapped tight around his ribs, fingers digging into his back so hard it was almost painful. Shouta shut his eyes tight, squeezing Hizashi just as hard as he took what felt like his first full breath in weeks.

They went to Hizashi’s apartment because it was closer and the rain was coming down harder than ever. Hizashi’s mother didn’t ask why the two of them showed by raw-eyed and soaked to the skin. Instead she just ushered them both into warm baths and dry clothes in an affectionately exasperated tone that brooked no argument. Shouta went first, drifting in the hot water until the prickling feeling on his skin stopped. Everything that had been moving double-time seemed to have boomeranged around to a snail’s pace instead. Being angry had at least felt like he’d been doing something, even if it had mostly just been burning his life down and salting the earth behind him. Now his warpath had been brought to a screeching halt and the sludgy inertia of sadness was biting at his heels.

When he emerged Hizashi’s mother descended on him almost immediately with still more practical comforts. She tucked a large knitted blanket around his shoulders before wrapping him in a hug almost as bone-crushing as her son’s and kissing the top of his head. It felt pleasantly suffocating as she squeezed him so tightly he felt his back pop; what felt even better was the way she just pushed a mug of very strong tea with too much milk and honey into his hands and sat him down on the couch without any of the thousand iterations of commiserating with his pain he’d grown so rabidly sick of. She repeated the ritual with Hizashi when he came out of the bathroom, telling them she would be working on emails in her room if they needed her before leaving them alone.

Hizashi dumped himself awkwardly onto the other end of the couch from Shouta. The distance between them felt immeasurable and alien. Shouta glanced at Hizashi out of the corner of his eye. The other boy was staring down into his tea without seeing it, wet hair sticking to his forehead and the back of his neck. He looked as lost and broken and small as Shouta felt now. A sharp squirm of guilt dug its way into the pit of Shouta’s stomach and begged him to just leave before he made things worse. He took a deep breath and stood his ground against himself.

“I’m sorry, Hizashi,” Shouta said quietly. He saw Hizashi flinch in his peripheral vision, hands flexing around his mug.

“Nah, don’t worry about it,” Hizashi replied with a forced chuckle that sounded more like he was trying not to throw up. “I know you’re going through...stuff. I, uh. Got kind of vicious back there. Sorry.”

“You were right, though,” Shouta said. “I’ve been too caught up in myself to pay attention to anyone else. That’s not fair. I’m sorry.” He frowned, trying to think of a good way to phrase the rest. “What you said before, about always being my second choice,” he began.

“We don’t have to get into that,” Hizashi jumped in quickly. “I-I was just mad, saying shit.” He bit his lip, shaking his head. “It’s not a big deal.”

“It obviously is,” Shouta said, a little more sharply than he’d really meant it. This seemed so patently Hizashi, playing off his feelings to keep things from getting too serious. Shouta wondered how long this had been boiling below the surface. “Even if it isn’t,” he said, starting again, “maybe it should be?” Hizashi looked over at him, surprised. “It wasn’t supposed to be like that. I always thought it was all three of us in it together. Equally. I’m sorry I made you feel like that wasn’t true.” Shouta sighed, shaking his head. “I didn’t realize how messed up things were already. Too far up my own ass I guess.”

To his surprise Hizashi snorted out a weak laugh at that. He breached the unspoken divide between them, scooting over to lean just a little bit too much into Shouta’s personal space. It was normal for him, but normal felt like a miracle right now. “Don’t beat yourself up too much,” Hizashi said, elbowing him gently in the side. “You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t spend half your life stuck in your own head.”

Shouta rolled his eyes but deep down he felt comforted by the backhanded compliment. “Can I tell you something stupid?” he asked.

“Always.”

“Honestly, I. I always kind of thought I was the one who didn’t fit,” Shouta admitted quietly. “I’m just okay at school, and I’m not good with people or with my Quirk yet like you and--like the two of you are,” he said. He corrected himself before he said the name out loud; just the thought of it still felt like swallowing broken glass. He shook his head. “How the hell did we manage to have two black sheep in a group of three people?” he wondered dryly.

Hizashi barked out a sharp but genuine laugh. “And somehow it’s us oddballs who are left,” he agreed. “Figure that one out.” He gave a theatrical broad shrug, then slumped back down onto the couch. The moment of levity seemed to hang in brittle shards around them. It felt wrong to be joking around, but it felt worse being sad. Shouta leaned into Hizashi’s side, resting his head on Hizashi’s shoulder.

“I don’t know what to do anymore,” he admitted in a shaky whisper.

“Me neither,” Hizashi murmured. “Guess we have to figure it out on our own.”

Shouta felt a warm trepidation at the word “we”. “Are you sure you still want to saddle yourself with me?” he asked.

Hizashi snorted, his mouth quirking into a ghost of his usual broad grin.“Uh, duh. You’re never getting rid of me now.”

“Promise?” The question felt childish and Shouta immediately regretted letting it slip out. Hizashi took his hand, threading their fingers together and squeezing tight.

“Yeah. I promise.”

#boku no hero academia #my hero academia #boku no hero academia: vigilantes #my hero academia: vigilantes #boku no hero academia: vigilantes spoilers #my hero academia: vigilantes spoilers #vigilantes spoilers #aizawa shouta #shouta aizawa #yamada hizashi #hizashi yamada #I don't even go here I just have a lot of feelings #and most of those feelings are ANGST #Quinny thinks she's a writer

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msmkcreates · 5 years

Text

Twice a Month I Fall in Love (6/???)

Characters: US!Papyrus, SF!Papyrus, reader

[Back to the beginning]

Inspired by prompts by @undertaleprompts

---------

“PAPY, WE NEED TO TALK!”

“you know, m'getting kinda tired of that phrase,” Stretch mumbled, looking up at his brother and Papyrus behind the couch. “what's up?”

“WE'VE BEEN OBSERVING YOUR ODD BEHAVIOR WITH MUTT ON OCCASION, AND WE FIGURED IT OUT.” Papyrus said bluntly, arms folded. “SORRY FOR SNOOPING, BUT YOU SHOULD HAVE JUST SAID SOMETHING!”

Stretch gripped his book a little tighter, a jolt of fear running through him as he remembered his conversation with Mutt.

“...figured it out? figured what out?”

“THAT YOU…” Blue looked around, then leaned in to whisper. “...you have a crush on him!”

Stretch stared at his brother for a long moment, partially in disbelief, and partially because he isn't sure that his brother is necessarily wrong. It isn't Mutt he likes, but he's sure he looks like he does when he spends time with you.

“no,” he said finally, turning back to his book and hoping that was the end of this conversation.

It wasn't.

“But you do!” Blue continued, still using what he considered a whisper. “You try to space it out so we don't notice, but we see the way you look at him. And hey! We see how he acts around you!”

“HE RELAXES AND HE'S IN A BETTER MOOD! HE EVEN DRESSES NICER!”

“So he has to like you back!”

“this is ridiculous,” Stretch sighed. “i don't have a crush on mutt.”

Blue and Papyrus looked at each other, and he swore those two could communicate telepathically.

“Ooooookay, IF YOU INSIST!” Blue said, in a voice that sounded suspiciously like his definitely-up-to-something voice. “GUESS WE GOT IT WRONG!”

“BUT JUST SO YOU KNOW, WE WOULDN'T HAVE A PROBLEM WITH IT IF YOU DID!” Papyrus clarified. “IN FACT, WE THINK YOU SHOULD CONSIDER IT! YOU COULD BE GOOD FOR EACH OTHER!”

Stretch smiled wryly. “thanks, but no thanks.”

“OKAY! WE'LL JUST...GO, THEN! AND DEFINITELY NOT PLAN SOMETHING NICE FOR YOU TWO!” Blue said, and Papyrus elbowed him, and they both laughed nervously and disappeared.

Stretch sighed. “well, that was fuckin’ weird.”

---------

Mutt tapped his soda, anxiety welling in his chest.

Any moment now, you would wake up, and he would blink and be in your body again.

...it sure was taking a while for you to fall asleep, or to wake up, or however it works. He doesn't know. But normally by this time today in his timezone, he's woken up in your body.

He looked up at the calendar, and sure enough, today had a little heart on it--how you had marked your days for him last time you were here.

He scratched his chin and sighed, getting up and heading to the door. Might as well get something to eat if he wasn't gonna switch out right now.

He opened the door and ran directly into Stretch, stumbling back a bit at the impact, annoyed.

Stretch paused, looking perplexed.

“you're...you.”

“yeah, i know,” Mutt grumbled. “s'weird for me, too.”

Stretch followed him to the kitchen, where Black looked up at the both of them and immediately made a face.

“STRANGE.”

“i know,” Mutt sighed, reaching up to grab his cereal from the top of the fridge.

A sense of anxiety welled up in his chest. What if the curse was broken? Or worse, what if something had happened to you? You could be…

He paused in the middle of uncapping the milk, and looked up at his brother.

“I'M SURE SHE'S FINE,” he said, though he didn't sound too sure. “IT'D HARDLY BE THE FIRST TIME SHE'S PULLED AN ALL-NIGHTER.”

That was true, but he was definitely still worrying. Normally you'd at least pass out for a few hours.

“should we call?” Stretch asked. “she said you have her number.”

Mutt grunted in response, pouring the milk haphazardly into his bowl. He wouldn't call, he didn't want the confirmation that it might be…

...over.

Maybe it was dumb but he had really grown used to this. He felt connected to you, and he didn't want that to end.

“GOOD MORNING, ALL!” Papyrus said cheerfully as he swept into the room. “AH, MUTT! STRETCH! JUST THE PEOPLE I WAS LOOKING FOR!”

“...oh, no.” Stretch moaned as his brother appeared behind Papyrus.

“what do you mean, 'oh, no’?” Mutt hissed as Papyrus swept around and grabbed their arms.

“BLUE AND I WERE SUPPOSED TO GO TO THE AQUARIUM TODAY, BUT ALAS! WE HAVE TRAINING! WE KNOW YOU BOTH WERE WATCHING THAT MOVIE ABOUT SQUIDS--”

“what? when?”

“--SO WE THOUGHT YOU MIGHT ENJOY YOURSELVES WITH OUR TICKETS!”

Blue shoved two aquarium tickets into their hands, and suddenly they found themselves spinning through the void until they were slapped onto the sidewalk outside of Ebott's famous aquarium.

“...what just happened?” Mutt asked, straightening up as Blue and Papyrus disappeared, leaving the two of them there.

“bullshit is what happened,” Stretch grumbled. “my brother and pap got it in their heads that we have a crush on each other, and i think they're trying to 'help’.”

“why the fuck would they think that?” Mutt snorted, looking at Stretch, only to find he wouldn't meet his eyes. “stretch. why would they think that?”

Stretch sighed, rubbing his temples. “because they see me hang out with you...when it's her.”

Mutt inhaled, fingers clicking as he formed a fist...and then stretched it back out with an exhale.

not mine. he's spent more time with her than i have. keep yourself in check.

“alright, so let's date i guess.”

Stretch looked up at him incredulously as he strode past him towards the front doors. “excuse me?”

“yeah, we got free tickets, and when she's around you can romance her all you want. what's the downside?” Mutt shrugged as he held the door open. “guess for free tickets to the aquarium i could give it a go.”

Stretch slowly walked past him into the lobby, eyeing him suspiciously. “i definitely don't think you're okay with this, but i guess so.”

He's not okay with this. In fact, of all the things he had possibly thought might come of this body switching thing, letting you fall for a good-boy copy of him and suffering through the dates? Not even on the list, and if it was it would be at the very bottom of things he was okay with.

But all he has to do is hold out until you finally switch, and then he can write to you in your journal everything that he feels. And then the next time you wake up...you'll know.

---------

“m'not gonna lie, that was actually…”

“fun?” Stretch finished for him, handing him an ice cream as they meandered away from the aquarium. “pleasantly surprised, myself. but…”

“...i'm still me. yeah, that bothers me, too,” Mutt sighed, pulling his scarf up as if it would obscure the worry on his face. “she's never taken this long to switch.”

“well, it could be--ack!” Stretch squeaked and dropped his ice cream as Mutt went instant deadweight out of the blue, his long legs buckling as he fell on Stretch, who in turn fell right on his tailbone out of shock, trying his best to catch him on the way down. “dude, what...mutt? hey, uh…”

He adjusted to hold Mutt's head in his lap as he quickly ported back to the living room back home.

“WHAT HAPPENED?” Black asked immediately, having been on the couch when they appeared. It was lucky most of the others were still out, but neither of them were concerned about that at the moment.

“i don't know, one second we were eating ice cream and talking, the next he ragdolled like his life depended on it!”

“Papyrus?” Black asked, hand brushing his cheekbone. “Get him to his room, quickly.”

Between the two of them they managed to lay him out on his rumpled sheets, and just as Stretch was about to suggest they call Green--

Mutt gasped and shot straight up, knocking heads with Stretch and falling right back to the mattress.

“have to get back,” he squeaked, holding his head with one hand and grabbing Stretch's shoulder with the other. “have to--”

He cut himself off with heavy breathing, looking around in a disoriented manner, and it wasn't until Black stepped in that Stretch realized what was happening.

“Darling, you're here, with me. It's Sans, and I need you to hold up three fingers for me.”

You had snapped into Mutt's body and immediately gone into a panic, and as Stretch watched, Black became gentle and soft, like his own brother, as he helped you close your eyes and count backwards from 10.

“You, the bedside table. The candle.” Black said, snapping impatiently at Stretch. He quickly grabbed the candle in question, an ocean breeze scent, and Black took it, holding your hands to it and instructing you to breathe. He counted your breaths, and after a few moments, you were breathing normally, curled so small in Black's lap despite how massive Mutt was.

“Now, what's going on?” Black asked softly, running gloved fingers over your skull as if brushing through your hair.

“tried to stay up, too important to leave,” you croaked, a desperate tone he never would have imagined Mutt's voice could make. “it's zack, he needs me, i gotta be there…”

“who's zack?” Stretch asked quietly.

“Her brother,” Black supplied, before putting one finger to his teeth to silence him. “Darling, I know it's important, but panicking won't help. We just have to wait.”

“...i know.”

Purple tears seeped from Mutt's sockets, and Stretch placed his hand on your shoulder, feeling as if his soul was breaking.

Black was right. All they could do was wait.

To Be Continued...

#mkwrites #twice a month i fall in love #drabbles #drabble series #sf!papyrus/reader #sf!papyrus #us!papyrus/reader #us!papyrus

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minyoongijjangjjangmanboongboong · 6 years

Text

Arranged Chapter Five

Description: Y/N is a struggling student in Seoul: working multiple jobs, living in a broom closet apartment, and often sacrificing her dignity for the sake of her livelihood. What happens when a handsome stranger presents her with an offer she cannot refuse at the moment she needs it most?

Pairing: Min Yoongi x (f) Reader

Word Count: 6,392

Tags: Non-Idol!Au, Chaebol!Au, Company!Au, Arranged Marriage!Au

Warnings: Coarse language, although not frequently. Mentions of alcohol in this chapter.

A/N: Wow hey so here’s chapter five! I’m really glad you guys are still into this story, because I’m definitely into writing it! I’m actually posting this just before I go in to work, so I may not be back on here until later (about 5PM PST). But please send me things if you’d like! I’ll respond to them all. Thanks so much for taking the time to read my story, and for the response you guys have had to it. It really means so much to me. As usual, please feel free to message me with feedback, critique, questions, or anything you’d like! I’d really love to talk to you guys. I hope you like the chapter!

–Mercury

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven, Chapter Twelve, Chapter Thirteen, Chapter Fourteen, Chapter Fifteen, Chapter Sixteen (END)

———————————————————————————————————

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me?!” screamed Hana into my ear, her voice tinny as it came through my cell phone.

“I’m sorry.”

“And am I even invited to the wedding? What the hell?”

“You’re invited.”

“Are you even awake right now?”

“I didn’t sleep much…”

“Y/N…,” she said gently. She’d calmed down considerably as the conversation went on.

It was Wednesday, and the articles about me and Yoongi were floating around cyberspace at a speed I couldn’t keep up with. Between dodging calls from old classmates from high school and avoiding all of my social media, I hadn’t been very in touch since the articles came out. But Hana had been relentless, calling and texting and even showing up at my apartment while I was out buying groceries, leaving a sticky note on my door promising to come back later and demanding a full explanation.

So when she’d called for the thirty-first time in twenty-four hours I answered. But my mind was so far elsewhere.

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t tell you right away. I’ve been…busy,” I said, but even I could hear how flat my voice was.

She sighed. “You didn’t have to go this far, Y/N. You know I would have helped you if you would have asked,” she said softly.

“I know. But I didn’t ask.”

“You could have.”

“I made the right choice,” I said, mostly to myself. If nothing else, I wasn’t burdening my loved ones. The only one who was burdened was…

“Y/N,” said Hana again, gentler this time.

“Forget it. It’s fine.”

“Well…do you get along with him? Is he nice to you?” she asked.

I felt my face flush as I laid on my couch, staring at the ceiling as the TV droned quietly in the background. “Nice…,” I repeated, mulling it over. “Yes.”

“Why do you say that like it’s a bad thing?” she asked.

After Yoongi had proclaimed his love for me, my heart had done more flips than an Olympic gymnast, and I couldn’t settle it down for the life of me. His dark eyes were focused solely on my mother as she sat across from him, shocked with her lips parted as if to speak but unable to produce the words. I could relate.

I gazed at Yoongi, my face red and hot and my vision going hazy. I tried to find any trace of insincerity in his face, in his voice, in the set of his strong jaw. But either he was a very good actor or I was a very bad judge of expressions because I saw nothing but determination. For the briefest moment, I felt a strange warmness in my stomach, and the urge to take his hand. But I pushed both feelings down as my mother began to blush and sputter a response that I couldn’t really hear.

The rest of the meeting had gone well and after Yoongi’s announcement, my mother seemed to warm up to him. She was of course not thrilled about the date of the wedding, but after speaking with Yoongi for a while, me still too shocked to contribute much, she at least seemed to trust his intentions a little more. Once we’d finished speaking, exchanging hugs on the sidewalk, my mother had hailed herself a taxi to get back to Sillim, and Yoongi had insisted upon walking me to the bus stop even though he could have easily called us both a car. He had taken my instructions of ‘acting normal and approachable’ to heart.

It was at the bus station that he finally released a heavy sigh and raked his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry about that,” he said.

I blushed and stared up at him, clearing my throat. “What do you mean?” I’d asked.

“For saying what I said back there. About being in love with you,” he said. How odd, I’d thought, that he would apologize for saying he loves me… “It’s fine. I was surprised, but…”

“It was the only way I could think of to get your mom to trust me.”

Suddenly, my body felt ice cold. A hope that I didn’t know I’d been carrying shattered on the floor and I could only nod my head and force a smile. “It was clever of you.”

He’d chuckled at this and offered a shrug. “Clever…,” he repeated. “Well, I just don’t want to put you in a bad situation with your mother. Anything I can do to help.”

Help.

He’d done it to help me.

“Sometimes kindness is cruelty,” I said to Hana with a heavy sigh. “Anyway, I’m gonna go to the convenience store to drop off my name tag and stuff.”

“You quit?” she asked, surprise coloring and lifting her voice.

I nodded. “I did. Yoongi is offering me a job at his company.”

She was quiet. “I…I can’t help but feel weird about this whole thing,” she said.

I chuckled and shook my head. “I think that’s the normal reaction.”

“I…I didn’t really mean it when I tried to get you to marry him. I was joking,” she said.

Did she feel responsible? “Trust me, Hana, this was my decision. Nobody else.”

She was quiet a moment. “Well…do you like him at least?”

I felt my chest clench and sighed into the receiver. “I gotta go.”

“Wait, Y/N-,”

I didn’t hear the last of her sentence, since I’d ended the call and was already on my feet, padding to my dresser to grab some proper clothes. I hadn’t been lying when I said I had to get to the convenience store.

Jungkook stared at me as I deposited my name tag and t-shirt behind the counter, his eyes following my movements precisely. I hadn’t looked at him since I’d entered the store. There was far too much to explain, and if I gave him any opening, any sign that I wanted to chat, I knew he would begin to ask questions I couldn’t answer. Or at least that was what I thought.

“I…uh, I saw the articles,” he said after more than five minutes in silence, presumably the longest he’d ever stayed quiet.

I finally glanced at him as he stood beside me, still working despite the complete lack of costumers. It was nearly dinnertime, and Jungkook was nearly off the clock. This left the two of us alone, no social buffer to hep us communicate.

Back in the day when we’d first started working together, Jungkook had hardly been able to hold a conversation with me. It seemed that unknown social waters scared the guy.

Neither of us were that great at handling awkward situations.

“Yeah,” I said with a sigh as I ran a hand through my hair, turning to face him directly. “Weird, huh?”

His eyes pierced through me, but with the way I was feeling it was hard to feel intimidated. “You seem weird.”

I chuckled. “Aha,” I said. “I am weird aren’t I? I’m weird.”

“Y/N,” he said, his hand finding the crook of my elbow.

I shook him away. “Forget it. I’m just in a strange place right now. A lot of things don’t make sense to me,” I said, sighing. “No, it’s really just me that doesn’t make sense.”

At this he finally released a laugh. “We can agree on that at least. How about we go out after my shift? Grab some food, drinks maybe?” he asked.

Abysmally, I shook my head. I wanted to wallow alone for a while longer, I wanted to sit in my own melancholy thoughts and wonder why a single untrue phrase made me so sad. “I’m bad company right now, Kook.”

He smiled. “I think you’re fine company.”

“Then you have bad taste.”

“Shut up, you Negative Nancy. Let’s just go and get some lamb skewers. My treat,” he said, offering me his big hand to shake.

I smacked it away, but the longer he badgered the more tempted I became. A warm meal with an old colleague…something about the normalcy of it made me want it badly. The more I pictured it, the better it sounded. It wasn’t that I wanted to spend more time with Jungkook, or that I particularly liked lamb skewers, but a reprieve from my depressing, spiraling thoughts was horribly enticing.

I chewed on my lip for a moment as I pondered his offer before, at long last, I peered up at him through my loose hairs. “You’ll pay?”

“Sweet Caroline~,”

“BUM BUM BUM!”

“The good times never seemed so good~,”

“SO GOOD, SO GOOD, SO GOOD!”

Jungkook and I responded chorally to the girl onstage, microphone waving in her hand, the call-and-response nature of the song livening up the already rowdy crowd. Jungkook hopped at my side with the beat of that familiar song, his laugh turning to more of a giggle, his eyes disappearing with his smile. I joined him in jumping and before long, the whole crowd of pleasantly full, pleasantly drunk patrons of the skewer-and-karaoke joint was jumping with us. All of our hands swayed in the air, more and more folks finding the stage and, subsequently, being sucked into the crowd. Jungkook and I were pushed close together, me far more inebriated than him, and I stumbled a little on my feet, jostling the man next to me as he chanted with his beer.

Startled, he glanced down at me and, upon turning to see me apologizing profusely, chuckled and patted the top of my head. I jerked away from the motion slightly, knocking into Jungkook’s chest.

“Sorry, babe,” said the drunk man with a laugh.

I shook my head. “It’s fine,” I assured him, angling my body away from him nonetheless.

The gesture was innocuous enough, but somehow the idea of this stranger touching me fondly put me off. Luckily for me, Jungkook seemed to pick up on my discomfort. Unluckily for me, however, the drunk man did not.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” he asked.

I sighed and turned to him once again, resolved to tell him to back off, but Jungkook’s hand was already on my shoulder, giving the man a stern look. “Her name is none of your business. Lay off.”

I appreciated the chivalry, if that was what it was, but I didn’t need someone to take care of me. “C’mon, chaperone, let her have some fun,” teased the man. I could sense no poor intentions from him, just too much beer.

“I’m already having fun, sir. And I’m engaged,” I said with a smile, patting his shoulder like he’d patted my head and leading Jungkook by the elbow back towards our table. Back towards our drinks.

Even though my mind was present, my body seemed intent on defying me and as I neared my seat across from Jungkook, I collapsed heavily against it and the thing rocked dangerously as if it may tip. I was quick to adjust my balance, but Jungkook’s eyes were serious as he appraised me. For the second time in only a few days I was the drunker of two people, and for the second time in only a few days, I felt like I was in the care of the soberer. He read my expression, his brow heavy, and I shooed his gaze away with my hands, grabbing for my drink. I downed the rest of it before Jungkook could stop me. Unlike the last time, this round of drinking was spurred not by anxiety but by confusion and more than a little disappointment. I reeked of desperation, and so did my movements. Why was I feeling this way anyway? It wasn’t like I liked him.

“Give me your phone,” demanded Jungkook seriously.

I scoffed and held the thing even closer to my body. “I’m fine.”

“Yeah, but that guy is still staring at you and you’re not exactly in the right headspace to fend him off.”

“I handled myself pretty well back there.”

“What’s up with you, huh? This isn’t like you at all.”

“How would you know what’s like me and what’s not?” I asked, rolling my eyes.

He leaned forward on his elbows. “Y/N, we’ve worked together for over a year now. You’ve only ever been stable and consistent and reliable. Now, what, you’re marrying some guy you’ve never even mentioned and you’re drinking like you’ve got a death wish?” he asked. His words tumbled from his lips with a cool indifference, but his eyes were stern.

I wanted to defend myself, my decisions, my recent behavior, but he was right. I wasn’t myself. I hadn’t been myself in a while. I’d been scared and stupid. I’d made choices that the old me never would have. Choices that the old me would have scoffed at, would have chastised me for. I’d been making those choices since…since when?

Since I lost my job at the music store. That was the start of everything, wasn’t it? The pivotal moment when I lost control of my life? My feelings? That was the problem…

“I gotta go,” I said, pushing up to my feet unsteadily, my bag laying sideways on the table before I jerked it up my shoulder and began feeling my way outside in the dark restaurant.

“Wait! Stop it!” he called, scrambling after me. “He’s still looking! Y/N, he’s following you! Jesus Christ,” Jungkook mumbled, finally catching me as I ruffled my hair on the sidewalk. Rather than trying to grab me he simply took up the space by my side, his eyes darting around like a criminal. “Will you at least tell me where you’re going?”

I pulled the sleeve of my light sweater up my arm, but it kept sliding back down to my wrist. I continued to fight with it as I answered in a breath, “I’m going to the music store.”

“The music-what? Why are you going there?” he asked.

I chuckled, the sound dark against the soft light of dusk. “Mhm. That’s where it all went wrong,” I said. “That was the point of no return.”

“You’re making even less sense now.”

“No, this is the most sense I’ve made in days,” I said.

“What are you gonna do when you get there, huh?”

“I’m gonna get my job back. Get my life back,” I said, resolved as I finally got that damn sleeve to sit in the crook of my elbow where I wanted it.

I wheeled around and began down the road. We were still in Gangnam, near enough to Mr. Kim’s instrument store to get there by bus or if desperate, — which I was — by foot. Jungkook cast an uneasy look over his shoulder and groaned.

“Please, please let me call you a cab and get you home safely,” he said. “That guy is right behind us. He’s gonna follow you. Please come to your senses.”

I scoffed. “I can handle myself. I’m gonna get my job back and I’m gonna be reliable and…what did you say? Stable. I’m gonna be that girl again, okay?” I said, placing my hands on his chest and nodding my head vigorously. It was the first time I felt clear since before Yoongi said that stupid thing.

“I-I can’t leave you alone right now, so please just…just listen, okay?” he said, all the while turning over his shoulder to look at the restaurant we’d just left. I followed his eyes to find the very same man who’d patted me, drunk as a skunk and shambling our way.

“I can handle that guy, okay?” I said with a laugh. “Here, hold my things and I’ll tell him to leave us alone.” I handed him my bag, shoving it into his chest as I walked towards the man, my sleeves still perfectly rolled.

“No, no, no, no, no,” said Jungkook, following me closely and wrapping an arm around my waist, turning my body around towards the street, away from the man as he called after me.

Jungkook settled me at the bus stop only a few feet away, sitting down beside me with a heavy sigh and scrolling through his phone. “So…the music shop,” I said slowly, my voice slurring. God, did I hate how I sounded when I was drunk. Reminded me of Saturday. Reminded me of Yoongi.

Ugh.

“Yeah, yeah. Just hold on a second,” he said, still furrowing his brow at his phone. “God, why is his contact name Mr. Min?”

“Huh?” I asked. The name caused me to sit straighter and forced my mind to focus. “Why are you talking about him right now?”

“Because I’m calling him,” he said, placing the phone to his ear. It was only then that I realized that the black-and-white plastic case protecting the phone looked awfully familiar…

“No!” I shouted, scrambling over his body to fight for my phone.

He effortlessly fended me off, dismissing me entirely with only a click of his tongue. “Yes, this is Jeon Jungkook. I’m a friend of your fiancé….Yes, she’s fine. Just a little…intoxicated.”

“No, please, please give me my phone,” I begged quietly, desperate not to be heard by the man who had been stomping loudly through my thoughts for days.

“Shh,” chided Jungkook, raising a finger to his lips. “I’ll text you the address. We’re waiting at a bus stop….No, it’s no problem. I’ll wait with her….Well, there’s a man watching her. I’m worried he might be trouble if I leave. And she’s…well, she’s probably more drunk than I let on.”

“I’m not drunk! Not even drunk. Look, Kook, look at me!” I called, seizing his attention as I stood to my feet and walked in a straight line along the edge of the sidewalk in front of us, both my arms spread wide. “Look! Field sobriety test!”

“A lot more,” he murmured into the phone before ending the call and typing something furiously.

I glanced over his shoulder, back at the restaurant’s facade, and saw the man from before hooting at me, waving his arms to call me back. He didn’t approach, just continued waving madly like he had something to tell me. In his left hand something shiny caught the light. I pouted, angry with him for ruining my plan, and lifted my own left hand slowly, like I may wave back. He continued to holler at me from across the sidewalk, looking like a drunkard. Silently, I lifted only one choice finger on my left hand.

The man stopped his movements and gaped at me, pointing at his hand again. Was he trying to give me his number? Trying to talk to me again? It seemed like a dumb way to flirt with someone. And he didn’t approach, his eyes flashing between me and Jungkook. Maybe he’d been more afraid of the strong boy than he’d let on inside, perhaps he’d seen him under the streetlight and noticed the network of muscles tracing his exposed upper arm.

So, finally, he huffed and turned around, returning the greeting I’d given him before disappearing once again inside the restaurant.

“Creep,” I mumbled, looking back at Jungkook and, with a resilient glare, touched my finger to my nose, then the finger on my other hand, and then the first finger again.

He cracked a smile, unable to look at me, and turned away, laughing into his hands. “Okay, okay. I acknowledge your aptitude for sobriety tests. Just come sit down and wait now, okay?”

I furrowed my brow. “Excuse me, but why do I feel like you’re my babysitter?” I asked.

He cocked a brow. “Aren’t I?”

“No. I’m a fully grown adult.”

“Take your finger off your nose and maybe I’ll take you more seriously,” he said.

Blushing, I pulled my hand down from my face, finger and all. I sighed. I knew I was being unreasonable, but all I wanted was to get to the music store. My realization had felt imperative and urgent.

Nonetheless, I sat down beside him, a respectable distance away.

A car I’d never seen before eased up to the curb in front of where I sat with Jungkook not fifteen minutes later. And from that beautiful white sports car stepped the person in the world I wanted to see the least. Yoongi shut the driver’s side door and examined me with a sigh as I slumped against the bus stop bench. He neared us and I didn’t straighten up, following his movements with my eyes alone. I still wasn’t sure I was going to go along with him anyway. I still had an errand to run, an errand that would hopefully result in Yoongi and me parting ways forever.

“Decided to have your bachelorette party a few days early, huh?” inquired Yoongi as he approached, crouching down to see me properly. Unfortunately, that meant I could see him properly too, sitting just in front of my bare knees.

He was wearing what looked to be his casual clothes, although even the black button-down he had tucked into the same ripped black jeans from the day before looked immaculately pressed and ironed. His dark eyes examined me not with anger or frustration, but with careful precision. His hair was only slightly askew from the wind.

I used my own hair to cover my face as I slumped even more into the back of the bench, pushing Yoongi away with my knees. “It’s your fault.”

“My fault?” he asked.

I nodded. “You confused me.”

I heard the melodic sound of his chuckle and before I could wonder what he’d found funny he was helping me to my feet and wrapping a strong arm around my waist to keep me upright. Startled, I shook him away and pushed the rest of my hair from my eyes so I could see properly. I dusted off the back of my shorts and cast both Yoongi and Jungkook a glare — respectively.

“I can handle it myself,” I said, crossing my arms.

“Mm,” mumbled Jungkook, scratching his eyelid softly before raising his brows at me. “You sure?”

“Yeah. Now leave me alone. I’m allergic to 6-foot tall man-children,” I said, shoving him away by the arm.

He laughed as he stumbled to the side. “Get a vaccine,” he said with a smirk, deliberately stepping towards me.

I furrowed my brow and glared at him. “Vaccines are to prevent the thing from happening, not for after the thing already happened. How did you even pass biology?” I asked.

“You’re the one who asked for my notes last year!” he exclaimed, pointing at me.

Mortified, I glanced toward Yoongi to see if he’d heard and, of course, he was watching the discourse with a smirk and crossed arms. “I hope you step on something wet while wearing socks when you get home,” I said lowly.

Jungkook’s mouth went slack. “After all I did for you today?”

“Let’s just get you home, huh?” said Yoongi from beside me, gesturing towards his car.

I peered up at him for only a moment before I decided that anywhere was better than being stuck with Jungkook. I followed Yoongi to his car and, before hopping inside through the door Yoongi held open for me, I shot Jungkook a smirk and stuck my tongue out at him. Before he could retaliate, I was inside the car, yanking the door shut. I expected Yoongi to join me quickly, but he stood outside with Jungkook for a few moments chatting. Even though they’d never met, they looked remarkably comfortable together. Maybe I was just too drunk…

“Ready to go home?” asked Yoongi as he took up the driver’s side.

I scoffed. “I’m not going home. Take me to the instrument store,” I demanded, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Nope. You’re going home.”

“You don’t get to decide that for me,” I said, watching the lights of the city pass outside my window. “You don’t get to decide where I go or what I do. You don’t get to decide if I speak or not. You don’t get to decide.”

“I’m driving the car. I think I do get to decide,” he said softly.

I rolled my eyes. “Then stop the car and let me out.”

“Y/N…,” he sighed. “Can’t you just cooperate?”

“No.”

He was quiet for a moment, still driving on the highway towards my apartment in Itaewon. We were already out of Gangnam. I figured I could catch the bus once he dropped me off and go to the instrument store alone. If I didn’t get my job back today, then I’d never do it. I’d never be bold enough again.

“The store is closed now,” he said from beside me.

I blinked a few times as shock ran through me. I hadn’t even thought of that. Quietly, I groaned and tilted my head back against the black leather headrest. “Dammit!”

“Why are you so insistent on going there anyway?” he asked.

I shrugged. “No reason.” An embarrassed blush spread across my cheeks.

“I’ve never seen you this determined.”

“You’ve only known me a few weeks.”

“Regardless,” he said.

I sighed and smoothed my hands over my thighs, trying to focus my mind. “I wanted to get my job back.”

“Your…your job? They fired you?” he asked.

“Yeah. After my slip-up with you, I was on thin ice. And then I messed up again,” I said. “He fired me.”

He took a deep breath. “My fault, huh?”

I nodded. “Yeah, but no. It’s me. All along it’s been me. I should take responsibility.”

“Listen, the job I’ll give you will pay much better than the instrument store, I promise,” he said, his voice soft.

I watched the dying twilight outside, Seoul colored in shades of violet, and shook my head. “It’s not about money.”

“If it’s not money, then…what is it?” he asked.

I felt like there was no way for us to understand each other on this topic.

“Nevermind.”

We arrived at my apartment after a few long minutes in silence, the radio providing a melancholy soundtrack as we drove. I was sobering up slowly, but I could still feel the lightheadedness lulling me. Yoongi seemed content enough just sitting there driving, and I took the moment of quiet to steady my thoughts. Why was I so upset with him anyway? He’d only done something kind for me.

“Well,” I said, rifling through my bag to find my keys.

“I’ll walk you up.”

I shook my head. “I’d rather you didn’t. I’m not…having the best day.”

“All the more reason to walk you up,” he said.

I sighed and, rather than fighting with him, simply shrugged and exited the car, still digging for my apartment keys. I grumbled on the sidewalk for only a moment before he was at my side and I had to stop my search to lead him up the stairs. I was resolved not to let him inside, to say a chaste goodbye at the door and send him home with a slightly drunken wave.

He followed me carefully from behind, walking a good foot behind on the sidewalk, a good step behind on the stairs. It was like he was a bodyguard and I was a movie star. But as we landed on the rooftop, plastered with chipping paint, I was reminded that neither of those things could have been further from the truth.

“You have the whole roof,” he said with a pleasant smile, taking a look at the city around us.

I blushed and resumed my search for my keys. “Yeah, it’s a penthouse after all.”

“A penthouse?”

“That’s how it was listed on the ad.”

He chuckled. “Huh.”

“Ugh!” I exhaled, turning my bag upside down to see all of its contents splayed out on the ground in front of me. I crouched beside my belongings and squinted at them, finding no key.

“Having some trouble?” he asked.

Trouble…

“That guy!” I shouted, standing to my feet with a groan. I slumped my shoulders as I remembered. He’d been waving his hands furiously, the glint of metal shining in his palm. He’d been trying to give me back my keys. “God, he must have left his things inside,” I thought aloud, trying to figure out why he hadn’t just approached and handed them to me like a normal person.

“What’s going on?” Yoongi asked from my side, staring down at me with worried eyes.

“That guy at the bar. He…my keys…he had them,” I said quietly as I moped.

Yoongi exhaled in a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay. I’ll have someone fetch them in the morning. It’s dark. Let’s just go to my place for now,” he said, shaking his head and turning on his heel.

“Wait!” I shouted as I reached out and grabbed his arm. “Isn’t that a little…,” I hedged, unable to meet his eyes as I blushed.

He chuckled softly. “You’re my fiancé. Why would it be inappropriate for you to come to my apartment?”

“I…,” I started, then glanced over my shoulder at my cold, dark apartment, juxtaposed against the cool, dark night. I released his arm and cleared my throat. “I guess.”

Holly was quick to jump against my shins as I entered Yoongi’s apartment, a real penthouse, and kicked off my shoes in the doorway. Yoongi’s previous somberness melted away and a soft smile spread across his face as he leaned down beside Holly and gave the small dog’s curly head a rub. I walked through the doorway, taking in the impeccable place. It was all white marble, white furniture, white countertops, black blankets, black curtains that had been pushed to the sides of massive windows overlooking the whole city. Like Seoul was on display every night, just for him.

“Feel free to sit down,” he said without looking.

The living room beckoned as Yoongi cooed over Holly and I walked laboriously towards the white sofa. I tossed my bag on the furthest cushion of the couch before I collapsed against it. I curled into the black faux fur of the massive blanket which had been draped across the couch’s broad back. Holly and Yoongi were still playing by the doorway, and I was watching on from the couch in silence, laying on my side, letting the wooziness ease a little. He seemed so different than usual…

“Would you like some tea? Maybe some toast to help sober up?” asked Yoongi, finally taking note of me as I rested on his couch.

I shrugged. “Not really. I just want to sleep.”

He chuckled. “Then sleep.”

“I have a question first.”

His brows raised and he approached me, Holly on his heels. He came to a seat at my feet and I sat up straight, still wrapped up, to look at his face properly. Of course, he was devastatingly handsome. That was something I’d grown used to. But he was also softer at home than he’d been outside.

“Holly…,” I said, watching him as he hopped up onto the couch and into my lap. I smiled as I ran my fingers through his brown curls. “He’s a very important part of your life.”

Yoongi nodded and smiled as Holly curled into me, resting his head on my thigh. “He is.”

“What else is important to you?” I asked.

He thought, really pondered, for a long moment before responding. “Music is important. I suppose…not letting my parents down is important to me as well. Living up to my name.”

“Becoming CEO?” I asked.

He nodded. “My father won’t step down until I’ve proven myself,” he said with a sigh. “He wants me to prove I can commit to something. Hence the…,”

“The marriage.”

“Yes.”

“What else is important to you though? Existentially?” I asked, emboldened by the leftover soju in my veins.

He reached a hand over to my lap to rub Holly’s back fondly. “Existentially…,” he said quietly.

“What makes you feel fulfilled?”

“I wonder,” he said, taking in his breath slowly through his nose and releasing it in a sigh. “How about you, then? Is that an easy question for you to answer?”

I nodded. “I want to be a capable person. I want to take care of myself and my mother. She raised me alone and she taught me that it’s important to sustain yourself. I don’t want to rely on someone else and I want to make my own decisions,” I said.

“I see,” he said, thinking. “Then that’s why you got so upset with me the night of the party. Why you got upset when I drove you home.” He hadn’t posed his words as a question, but rather an objective statement of fact.

“It’s also why I got upset when you said you loved me,” I said, the pieces finally falling together. “I didn’t like that you just…decided to say that and then decide it was a lie. You didn’t give me a choice.”

“I apologize.”

“Don’t,” I said, smoothing Holly’s hair as his eyes drooped shut. Yoongi kept watching his dog, not once raising his gaze to me. “We’re just different, that’s all.”

“I feel like I keep messing up with you.”

“I feel the same.”

Finally he looked over at me and we seemed, for a brief moment, to be on the same page. “How about we start making rules then? For our time together.”

I shrugged. “That may work.”

“Okay. You start.”

“Don’t say something that I might misunderstand. I know to you love and romance aren’t important but they’re very serious to me. Try not to shake me up,” I said.

“Okay,” he said, then smirked at me. “Don’t go drinking with other guys again,” he said.

I blushed and shook my head wildly. “No! It’s not like that between me and Jungkook. He’s hardly even a guy.”

He laughed. “I don’t mind what kind of relationship you two have. Just don’t endanger our arrangement,” he said.

My heart clenched a little. Of course. It was business between us after all. “Okay. I’ll be more careful,” I said, pursing my lips. “Consult me with decisions so we can make them together. We’re partner and partner, not employee and boss.”

He smiled at me softly before nodding his head. “Fair enough.”

“I suppose we should write these down,” I said, looking over his shoulder at my bag as it slumped against the cushion near his leg.

I reached over his lap to grab it in search of my cell phone. If I didn’t write down my rules, I’d forget them by the morning. I could become scatterbrained, especially in front of Yoongi, and being slightly inebriated didn’t help. I needed assurance that this conversation had truly happened, and accountability on both ends that we would abide by the rules.

He stiffened as my upper body hovered over his lap and, disturbed by my movements, Holly hopped off my lap and onto the floor, finding his bed near the TV. I continued to squirm my way over to my bag and I could hear Yoongi’s breath hitch in his throat. Was he perhaps nervous around girls?

I glanced up at him and saw nothing but his typical composure, the only sign of discomfort being his hands as they floated above my back while I strained on his lap. Sober, of course, I’d never have been so bold. But suddenly I was glad for the alcohol. Without it I wouldn’t have known I could even remotely affect Yoongi.

I stretched and grabbed for my bag, finally snatching it and sitting up properly, using Yoongi’s knee to prop myself up. Suddenly we were face to face, our noses inches apart, his dark eyes wide and mine matching. I felt the flush on my cheeks, felt it grow hotter and hotter, extending even towards my ears. His eyes scanned my face, his hands now thrown back against the couch like he’d been stopped by a policeman, and I saw the ghost of a blush working beneath his pale skin. I’d never been so close to him before.

I felt that familiar bubbling of wistful sadness in my stomach, the one I’d felt all day since he’d revealed that his confession had been a lie. I thought I’d made sense of it, thought I finally understood it. He’d taken my freedom — my free will, rather — and I’d been tugged along, in the throes and out again, without so much as a choice. That was what was bothering me.

But then why did I feel like a chunk of my heart was out of place?

Something still bothered me and as half of my body was draped across his lap, my arms still using his legs for support to sit upright, I had a sudden and unstoppable urge to figure it out.

All I had to do was tilt my head just slightly, lean forward the tiniest measure, and I would have my answer.

And so I did, bracing myself against his shoulder as I took in his face up close. Porcelain skin tinged pink at the cheeks, deep-set eyes blown wide staring down at me, full lips parted only slightly to reveal just a hint of white teeth, hair falling against his forehead, wind-swept here and there. I didn’t know when I’d have such a view again.

I leaned forward a little, keeping my eyes on his as his lids grew heavy. I could feel his breath against my lips, could feel a single hand on my hip, having relaxed from its previous position against the couch. I released the black strap of my bag, hearing the thing clatter to the floor, and finally closed the distance. Our lips touched, his soft and gentle against mine. I hardly moved, hardly breathed, as my lips worked against his. He didn’t pull away. It was only a moment, but it felt like eternity. The space around us was hot and charged, and his grip on my hip tightened. I’d wondered before what it may be like to kiss him, but actually doing it was different. So different. My heated cheeks grew redder.

Because, in the moment before I’d shut my eyes, I could have sworn he leaned in too.

#bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #min yoongi #yoongi fanfic #yoongi #suga #bts reactions #bangtan #bts au #arranged bts fanfic #bts imagine #bts reader insert

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memorylang · 4 years

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My First Mongolian Lunar New Year /Цагаан сар/ | #25 | February 2020

Welcome to my first time experiencing Mongolia’s biggest holiday, the Lunar New Year’s better known as Цагаан сар /Tsagaan Sar/ (TsaGAHN Sar)! We celebrated it uniquely, with COVID-19 Coronavirus precautions escalating. Likewise, I experienced the profound fortune of having spent my final week of the lunar 2019 uncovering a rich history I soon found myself part of. With eating more Mongolian steamed dumplings than you thought possible, downed with our deliciously salty milk tea, welcome to Lunar New Year’s!

Like Christmas in February

The Saturday before the holiday’s first day, I returned downtown to meet with one of our Peace Corps summer’s local English instructors, whose birthday we celebrated in October. While Lunar New Year crept closer, I served as logistics coordinator for a mentorship-focused summer camp for disadvantaged children. I had meetings to attend. My friend’s been accompanying me to translate with officials.

After Saturday’s sessions, my friend walked me through the outdoor market, bustling with shoppers. I hadn’t seen it this crowded since August. Now in late February, I got last-minute Christmas shopping vibes. [Fittingly, did you catch this is my 25th story?] My friend explained, most years, it’s far more packed. I tried picturing the occasional empty stalls as completely full. He explained, too, instead of saying usual Mongolian hellos, I can greet people with phrases translating to, “How are you wintering?” and essentially, “Happy New Year.” So seasonal.

We regrouped, and I treated him to dessert, he treated me to hot tea. Following Lunar New Year’s, we’d be able to continue meeting with officials for funding. We also talked personal projects, with quarantine about. I didn’t know my home tour appeared on the Peace Corps Mongolia Facebook Stories! I felt glad. How magical to have immortalized my set-up for others to see. After our session, I returned home, practicing more languages and wondering how I’d spend the Lunar New Year.

Our Holiday Within Coronavirus’ Context

Our Peace Corps Mongolia country director returned mid-February to Washington, D.C. for extensive decision making regarding the COVID-19 situation. Mongolia remained case-free, despite bordering China.

Meanwhile, local and national governments continued moving to limit movement.

Traditionally, Mongolians celebrate the three-day Tsagaan Sar by visiting family, colleagues and friends. Peace Corps Volunteers typically travel home to their host families to spend the holiday with them.

With Mongolia's road closures, Peace Corps Mongolia prohibited us from travel. Thus, we wouldn’t be able to visit our host families this year. Furthermore, my sitemates in the other province wouldn’t even be able to return to ours for the holiday. I felt dismayed, but I assured them if they needed anything I’d do my best.

Still, though we couldn’t travel much, and with public places closing left and right, we could gather in small groups at the few places remaining open. Living alone and so done with my solitude, I definitely took offers I received to be among others. Thus, our story unfolds...

New Adventure with an Old Memoir

The week preceding Tsagaan Sar, I was heavily in my books and involved in meditation. So I rose Monday morning before 5 a.m. for the usual meditation meet-up.

But I got no response from my driver, the philosophic doctor friend. So I decided to stay up, in case he called. I read my final chapter of the 25 days with “Rediscover the Saints.” I felt I’d need to choose new reading. Then a path appeared.

Having found out my thesis would take more revisions, I felt needing an academic refresh and, frankly, a break. I scrolled my Facebook feed (something I scarcely do). I chanced upon, "Mongolian Studies,” a public group.

Now the fun begins. I introduced myself to the group. I described my interest in religious studies. A member suggested I read the recent memoir, “There’s a Sheep in My Bathtub,” by Brian Hogan. Its synopsis detailed that Brian, a fellow American, recounted foundings of Mongolia’s first churches.

So I asked my American couple friends if they’d heard of it, since they mentioned attending a church. In fact, they had the book and knew its author. I felt stunned! I asked to borrow it. They invited me to come by at the speaking group meet-up, 7 a.m.

Having come into town for weeks to hike the mountain at 7:30 a.m., I knew well how to get downtown before sunrise. Hurriedly, I prepped and left for Zaya’s Coffee Shop.

Crossing Worlds in a Coffee Shop

When I returned to the speaking group, my friends said the memoir was by our city’s first Christian missionaries. That blew my mind. Its author helped found my friends’ own church! After we finished our morning’s speaking group, I dove into the story.

I devoured 50 pages the first day (a lot for me). The memoir even began at Tsagaan Sar! That felt too timely. Like me, the family left from Beijing to Ulaanbaatar. I felt awed by their faith.

I spent my day at Zaya’s Coffee Shop. Then I spent there my week.

I read and wrote. I enjoyed the hot water. I didn’t eat much, though. I guess baristas felt concerned or just very generous. I was nibbling a cookie at lunch hour, and she said that’s not food, haha. They treated me to Turkish food a few times. Gosh, I’d love to see Istanbul. Another day, I tried a carrot cake muffin! I felt touched.

Sometimes they practiced English with me. They told me about Swedish missionaries Brian mentioned in his memoir. They thanked me for coming to help the community learn English and Chinese. I loved the shop even had Russian patrons. It felt so multicultural.

I also talked to the shop owners, “Zaya,” who’d served as missionaries in Afghanistan. The siblings spoke of bringing the Gospel to the whole former Mongol Empire. They said Chinggis Khaan's soldiers’ descendants still live in distant nations. Incredible. Like Belle sang, “... our small corner of the world [felt] big.”

My dad served the U.S. Army in Afghanistan, so I appreciated the similarity to my father. The shop owner also made these lovely tan and maroon book covers. I liked the look of them and felt I should protect Mom’s cockled New Testament better. The owner offered to sew a fitting cover, so I gave him Mom’s Bible.

I returned since Monday for many reasons. Tuesday, I discussed transitioning the Chinese speaking group to the owners’ trilingual friend experienced in China and with a linguistics background. Wednesday, I returned for the Americans’ English speaking group. Thursday, we launched the new Chinese speaking group. Friday, we’d the English speaking group and my German volunteer friend’s farewell.

As I left the coffee shop Friday to see my German friend off, the most amazing thing happened. I met a woman mentioned in the memoir I was reading! She was back in town to see her family for Tsagaan Sar. She and they were among the city’s first Mongolian Christians. In fact, she’d graduated from the very university where I teach. She had a Peace Corps Volunteer then, too, a Christian she’s kept in touch with all these years. Wow! When I mentioned no plans or people to spend Tsagaan Sar with, the woman invited me to come spend it with her family on the first day. I felt shocked and awed.

Warm Dumplings at Spring’s New Beginning

Tsagaan Sar began touching every part of my days in the final weekend before Lunar New Year.

Tsagaan Sar celebrates the traditional start of spring. At the Wednesday evening group, one of the doctors (husband to my senior student) wanted the head nurse to take me to ride horses with him in the countryside. So, with my sitemates stranded in the other province, Peace Corps Mongolia would send my helmet directly to my city, Friday.

Evenings that week, after mornings and afternoons in the coffee shop, I visited the American couple’s apartment to play games like Sequence with our speaking group members. Friday night, I attended their usual dinner and discussions. Afterward, late that cold night, I first needed to get my package from Peace Corps. Thankfully, an older widow in our group, the kind English teacher I’d met the month before while promoting an English scholarship program with my innovator friend, lived on that side of town. She invited me to wait at her apartment with her son.

Once we got inside, we called the package driver to ask when he’d reach town. I passed my phone to the teacher. She learned it’d be hours. She started cooking, in the spirit of Tsagaan Sar, бууз! Pronounced /boe-z/, one syllable, they’re circular steamed dumplings, which some Mongolians compare to Chinese 包子 bāozi.

"How many бууз would you like?" she asked.

My mom would ask me that about soup dumplings, I recalled.

When I was little, I usually said three to five. Mom asked whenever she made 汤饺 tāngjiǎo. Though, she usually called them, “dumplings,” “水饺 shuǐjiǎo,” or maybe “饺子 jiǎozi.” If you recognize Chinese food, then бууз are, to me, more comparable to thicker, circular 水饺 shuǐjiǎo steamed dumplings. Chinese 包子 bāozi, on the other hand, are like Mongolia’s fluffy мантуун бууз (pronounced /mahnTONE boe-z/). My church fed me мантуун бууз when I visited ill, on Teachers’ Day, actually...

Tonight I’d no preference. I felt pleasantly surprised by Mom’s memory. I love бууз, anyway. While the teacher cooked, I humored her chatty, young son who told me about conspiracies he saw on YouTube.

Then we ate. The teacher mentioned visiting the U.S. a couple times, as a volunteer translator for Children’s Heart Project of Samaritan’s Purse. In America, my mother became a translator. The teacher offered me to see her photo books and albums. Unfortunately, her husband passed away while their son was very little. I loved their wedding photos.

In considering care for the widow and orphan from the Bible, I wondered if moments like these are part of it. Jesus instructed John to take a new mother and Mary to take a new son (Jn. 19:26-27). Maybe these are how Christ's body mends.

I napped from the meal. Finally, past midnight, the delivery driver came. The teacher walked me out to find him. With her hands in her pockets, my friend seemed to speed-waddle across the ice. I’d never seen anything like it. I’m so bad at crossing street ice.

From the driver parked outside the city center distributing packages, I received my horseback helmet. Then my community friend sent me in a taxi home. She sent me with extra бууз, so I felt fed and fortunate. Tsagaan Sar seemed a great season.

Lunar New Year’s Eve, Битүүн /Bitüün/

Sunday morning, my older friend, my usual driver, picked me up. We checked electronics stores for a Surface charger, since mine fatally kinked, my week writing at the coffee shop. We drove around town trying to find a shop open with the charger, but no luck. Shops closed through the end of national travel bans. My friend said we could check after.

In the meantime, we drove out to see if we could go to the countryside to visit his father, a Mongolian familial tradition. But a line of police cars blocked the road. My friend got out and talked with the officers, but they repeated the government’s word that people couldn’t leave the city because of the Coronavirus. With nowhere left to go, I accepted my friend’s invite to his place for Lunar New Year’s Eve. I felt confused but relieved I’d somewhere to be.

After extra shopping, my friend dropped me off at his family’s house in the ger district. With no fire on, his house felt just a smidge less freezing than outside. He invited me to the usual dry, sweet fried боорцог /bore-tsog/ nibbles to soften in the salty hot milk tea. He also left family albums for me to see. Then he left to bring home the rest of his family. I felt at first confused he’d leave a foreigner alone in his house. Then I figured, I’m trustable.

Flipping through the albums, I spotted how my city looked, seemingly while Soviets still influenced much of it. I’d seen just a few photos from then in the memoir I’d been reading. My city center looked pale, lacking the paint that earned its “Colorful City” title. I also saw photos from what seemed places I wanted still to visit in Mongolia. I saw his family in various provinces, such as in a boat on Khuvsgul Lake, then outside what seemed the Mother Tree (which the “Mongolian Studies” group scholar told me to visit), and among reindeer perhaps in the taiga, somewhere many locals told me to visit this summer.

The family returned home and quickly got busy. My friend, the dad, asked if I was cold, then apologetically started the stove’s fire. I magnetized to the heat. We ate delicious dumplings or бууз he warmed in the milk tea I kept my fingers around. Once the fire got going, my friend changed to his tank top and laughed I still wore two layers. They later recounted my chilly story to relatives.

When they said we're entering the Year of the Mouse, I felt I was back on the other side of Asia. Back then, Year of the Pig banners adorned U.S. airports and Greater China. While I’m against seeing Asian cultures as entirely alike, I realized Mongolia probably decorated similarly. What a lunar world.

As I saw the 15- and 17-year-old readied the traditional tan tower of food and candies while the parents cooked, I felt reminded of American traditions to decorate Christmas trees and ready supper. Preparing the eve was the whole family’s effort. I helped the boys with the traditional food tower (the идээ /eeDEH/).

Mongolian Families For All Seasons

After the family set some food to offer their Buddhist/shamanist Бурхан (God) shrine, we sat down to eat. I picked a random spot by the table’s end. But the father said, by the идээ is most honored. So he moved me from my last chair to beside the идээ, across from him. I felt amazed, remembering suddenly that’s what’s supposed to happen (Lk. 14:10).

After dinner, I felt on five occasions summer memories with my host family I’d wanted to see this winter. The morning before, my host mom called about whether I'd visit this year for Tsagaan Sar, as I hoped. I could hear others' “Сайн уу?” greetings on the line, feeling their glee. My younger host cousin’s actually done well messaging me most every other day morning greeting pictures in Mongolian. Sadly, I explained, Peace Corps forbade our travel to our host homes due to Coronavirus this year. But my host family sounded eager and satisfied I resolved to try again next year.

We'd that conversation very straightforwardly. I felt my language skills have grown smoother. I wondered how I’d have done among my host family if I could’ve seen them again…

First, after dinner, the dad invited me and his sons to play the Orient board game. My host family owned the same. Summer days, a host sibling got it from the little shed, and we walked around the fence to our neighbor’s. There my Peace Corps Trainee neighbor from Boston and I would eat and play floor games with our siblings/cousins. I mean “floor,” not “tabletop,” considering I’ve never done board games or shagai on a table in Mongolia… Coincidentally, the Boston guy and I both played in our cohort’s D&D party from winter.

Anywho, second, the father got out the шагай /shagai/ ankle bones, and we played the flicking game I recognized but hadn’t understood. This, too, my host siblings and I played at the neighbor’s. An outside observer would probably compare it to marbles, though I think marbles’ goal is to flick marbles out of the circle. This game has no circle. But as I watched and learned from the father’s beautiful skills and his younger son’s OK skills (the dad’s words, not mine), our goal is to flick like-faced bones into each other to collect the most. Strategy lies in manipulating the four faces carefully. I did alright!

Later that night, third, on TV a "Яг түүн шиг" rerun I saw that summer with my host family came on. ‘Twas the infamous episode when the woman, crossdressed as Snoop Dogg, won. But next came "The Voice of Mongolia." I hadn’t realized how likable the judges seemed! I’d heard of Uka, Bold and Otgonbayar (from Хурд, sounds like /horde/) but didn’t know Ononbat. I’d heard really good things about Uka, since she’d once performed at a Peace Corps Volunteer’s wedding. Shocking, I’d probably seen Otgonbayar live in September when Хурд performed in my city’s square. That was our First Day of School 2019...

Then we headed out. It was so late. I appreciated my friend warned me in darkness of ice on the dirt, my nemesis. But when I thought we finished, my friend took me to a relative’s. Ah, a fourth memory of life with my host family—surprise visits to others’ homes.

Finally, fifth, I appreciated locals’ enthusiastic compliments of my ability to speak Mongolian. Reminding me of my summer soum, I guess those in the ger district feel more generous in commending that I know Mongolian at all.

Speaking with them, I kept up at a speed reminding me of first meeting my Chinese relatives those three years ago. Locals spoke at the normal pace, and I could catch and answer their basic questions with few speed bumps.

Though living in a city limits how much I need to speak Mongolian compared to soum-dwellers, I feel more enriched speaking it. Locals seem happier I try, too. Thankfully, we didn’t stay long, since I was beat. But I ate ever-more food, since that’s tradition. I quite enjoyed their fudge-like oil-based dessert. With smiles and an extremely full belly, I got my ride home.

The First New Day /Цагаан сарын эхний өдөр шинийн 1/

Monday, February 24, I rose before the sunrise for the traditional dawn to the First New Day. I saw upon a faraway hill a couple new flames I didn’t recognize. Though I heard we couldn’t hike to light bonfires upon the hills this year, I felt warmed by the brave souls who did it anyway.

I dressed in my traditional Mongolian clothes, bundled up and went forth. I had on what I dubbed my “space cowboy” look, with the white, brimmed summer hat and mask for air pollution. Having learned my lessons from the nights and hikes before, I bundled up well. I was off to meet the Mongolian Christian family of the memoir I read.

The first thing I noticed and loved were the flurries.

Considering a White Christmas, I thought it funny. Lunar New Year’s name in Mongolian translates to “White Month.” So, could I call it a “Цав цагаан сар /Tsav Tsagaan Sar/?” A “Very White Month?” I smiled as I descended the massive hill separating my apartment area from the rest of the city. I enjoyed less the fresh powder snow on ice, since I nearly slid. But this is Mongolia, hehe.

Anyway, locals told me snowfall on Tsagaan Sar is auspicious. Hooray! Thus, my first year of Mongolia’s biggest three days began.

You can read more from me here at DanielLang.me :)

#Peace Corps #Mongolia #memoir #story #Catholic #Chinese #God #English #Tsagaan Sar #Coronavirus #Christian #coffee shop #winter #summer #COVID-19 #spring #memoryLang #Lunar New Year #mom #food

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whatdoyouthinkmyjobis · 7 years

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Girl Next Door

Hunters on the Hellmouth masterlist

previous chapter

AN: Still not fully happy with it, but here we go!

Chapter 13: Summoning for Beginners

Jada sat alone at a table in the university’s dining commons, trying to decide if she was nervous or angry. Sam was still hanging fliers for a fake school project, while Willow fetched hot water for tea.

Magic tea.

The phrase sounded ridiculous, yet Jada knew it was real. She’d spent a lot of time practicing how words like vampire and demon hunter sounded in her voice. They never sounded right.

But here she was, waiting for a magical tea party to begin.

“It’s not dangerous,” Sam had reassured her as they lounged in her bed on Sunday morning. “I just thought maybe you’d want to see what I saw.”

He had drunk some magic tea the day they went to the bookstore. The day he had started telling her about magic and vampires. She had known before then. She’d known since she was attacked by one of those monsters, but she’d known it the way a person remembered a place from childhood -- dreamlike and peripheral.

“People with their heads in the clouds?” she’d asked, suspicious this was less about showing her anything and more about inching her toward comfort with the craziness he surrounded himself with.

“Aren’t you curious about who or what put you under the forgetting spell?”

A chill had run from her scalp to her toes. Of course, she was curious. She didn’t want to be controlled, but the idea of getting further into the supernatural world made her queasy. Throwing back the covers, she had quickly snatched Sam’s hoodie from the floor. “You want any coffee? I was thinking about making cinnamon rolls today.”

Looking at the smattering of students in the commons, she hoped they knew nothing. She wished them a monster-free life and blissful ignorance.

Willow, cheerfully dressed to fight winter in a red coat and purple hat, returned with three steaming mugs on a tray. She smiled warmly at Jada, as if they were old friends. “Oh good! You’re still here!”

Jada was surprised herself. “How do people normally commemorate doing their first spell? This feels like a moment.”

“No pomp; little circumstance. But you do get the personal satisfaction of your own secret coolness,” the witch said confidently as she removed her winter things and pulled a small box from her bag. “It’s not much of a spell. I did an abracadabra on these herbs a while ago. You just have to drink them.”

“So what made you decide to become a, uh, a witch?”

A grin broke over Willow’s face as she set out paper and pens. “I like a challenge, and I sort of have a talent for it. Once I started, I felt like I was unlocked, connected to something deeper, you know?”

Jada did know, and she wanted to lock herself up again.

Soon Sam arrived, the sight of him reminded her why she bothered with this chaos. The chilly air outside had turned his cheeks pink, and his nose was still cold when he kissed Jada’s cheek. “Ready?”

She wasn’t. “Tell me the plan again?”

“We want to get a better sense of what this spell is, so we need to test the waters. I put fliers up a few days ago requesting people meet us here to help with our grad school research project.”

“Spooky local folklore?” Jada recalled.

“And we want to see what happens to people’s clouds as we ask questions.”

Willow handed Jada and Sam clipboards. “One is questions for people with clouds, the other is for clear skies people. The lunch rush should hit in about fifteen minutes, so I’ll mill about while you two unmill here at the table.”

She crushed herbs over the mugs, making a colorful, if flaky, drink. “Ready, set, spell,” Willow said, taking a sip of her brew.

A little scared but not wanting to show it, Jada took a small sip. The flowery drink burned her mouth, but she felt nothing else. A dozen unclouded students and a handful of cafeteria staff, all unclouded, peppered the commons. Her fear melting away, she took a large gulp. Clouds ranging from an impenetrable darkness to a thin mist formed around the heads of all but four people in the commons.

She must have looked panicked, because Sam gently squeezed her hand. “I see it, too. Four of them?”

Jada nodded.

Willow cheerfully picked up a pen and clipboard. “Okay, let's get interviewing.”

The following day, Sam came over for breakfast before work. After Jada got her aunt settled in watching morning talk shows, her conversation with Sam took a shocking turn.

“You want to what?!” Jada set down her coffee mug to avoid dropping it.

Sam hadn’t expected her to take the news well. But it was one thing to coddle his girlfriend when it came to vampires; it was another with Lucifer on the loose. He needed to know more about what had been preventing her from remembering the vampires. What was over the town?

Their interviews at UC Sunnydale hadn’t told them much. People with dense clouds weren’t aware of the supernatural. People with thinner clouds had heard rumors of weird events. People without clouds: They knew.

But what was causing it?

The fear that it could come back, reclaim Jada’s mind and blind her, kept Sam up at night. Would she go out at after sunset? Remove the protective symbols from the apartment?

For the first time since he and Dean and landed in Sunnydale, Sam felt the familiar squeeze of being up against a wall. And that made him desperate.

“Jada, I know it sounds insane, but Willow has summoned D’Hoffryn before. They’re on good terms. Besides, he’ll be bound in a demon trap.”

“But why here? Why not...far from here?”

“D’Hoffyrn already knows where we are,” Sam lied. He didn't want to admit he was afraid of going too far from home at the moment. Lucifer was wounded with the loss of the Turok-Han and his sleeper agent, Spike, but that didn’t make it safe. “Might as well use the empty store downstairs. Besides, the apartments are protected, and he's unlikely to be interested in you unless you're feeling vengeful. Just stay inside.”

Jada cocked one eyebrow and examined him. Her lie detector was getting better. The day was coming that he would have to tell her everything.

“He’s dangerous?”

“Yes and no,” Sam said. “Not a claw-your-eyes-out-the-moment-he-sees-you sort of dangerous, but not exactly a creature you want to piss off either.”

She tapped her finger to her lips as she mulled it over. “Three o’clock. That’s when Auntie naps. If you're going to invite a demon into our home, I plan to be there.”

“Really?” His stomach dropped. D'Hoffryn knew something about Sam, Dean, and whatever had brought them to Sunnydale. There was no telling what he'd reveal.

“I'm not about to go vampire hunting with you, but this is about something done to me. Besides, I am a consummate hostess.”

She handed him his satchel full of books and notes. “We can talk about it some more later. Don't want to be late.”

The Winchesters, Buffy, and Willow gathered on the first floor of the brothers’ apartment building. It had previously served as a hair salon, and the tang of relaxers and dye still lingered in the air.

Sam and Dean were hanging blankets over the shop windows. It was the middle of the day. Not an ideal time to summon a demon.

“Do we really need this?” Willow asked, pointing to the demon trap Dean had painted on the floor.

“Demon. Yes,” Dean replied.

“I’ve talked to D’Hoffryn loads of times and never needed a trap.” Willow took a large jar of sand from her bag. “He’s no Clem, but he’s still pretty friendly as demons go. If anything, a trap’s going to make him pissed.”

“Kinda on the fence myself,” Buffy said.

“I think it’s a good idea,” Sam said as he and his brother walked back to the middle of the store. “Can’t be too careful with--”

The bell over the front door rang. Jada stood just inside the door, her fingers tightly grasping a red tin. Sam walked back to the front of the store and locked the door behind her.

“Oh, that’s a...date idea,” said Willow.

Jada eyes darted between Sam and the room. “I’m here for the summoning.” Her voice raised slightly at the end, as if she were asking herself if it were true.

“Wha’cha got?” Sam asked, leading her around the demon trap.

Jada held the tin tighter and grinned weakly. “Something to share later.”

“I still don't like this,” Dean muttered, running his fingers through his hair.

Sam had only mentioned Jada joining them to Buffy and Dean. Even then, he knew he’d need Buffy to help him win Dean over to having the greenest newbie imaginable around while they summoned the most powerful demon they’d met in Sunnydale. And Sam was still in knots.

“Welcome,” said Buffy. “I found a good hiding spot for you.” She steered Jada to the back office where she’d be able to watch through a two-way mirror.

With Jada safely tucked out of sight (they hoped), Willow began to pour sand in a circle around the demon trap. She clutched an amulet in her hand as she chanted, “Beatum sit in nomine D'Hoffrynis. Fiat hoc spatium porta ad mundum Arashmaharris.”

In a flash of lightning, D’Hoffryn appeared. “Behold!-- Oh, it's just you. What do you want?”

“Answers,” said Buffy, sharply.

“I don't want to play with you,” D’Hoffryn sighed. “Miss Rosenberg, I didn’t give you my talisman so you could call me for Lady Pain. I was hoping we could get a bubble tea. Talk about your gifts.”

Willow nodded pleasantly. “I’ll have to check my calendar. New semester has me busy. I signed up for an advanced course on dead languages.”

“Bubble tea, then tell me all about it.” D’Hoffryn snapped his fingers. Nothing happened. He snapped them again. The demon glowered at them before noticing the trap under his feet. “A demon trap? That’s so extra-dimensional... and tacky.”

“You ain’t going anywhere until we get some answers, chuckles,” Dean barked.

The demon curled his lip, baring his yellow fangs. “Chuckles? Do you know who you’re talking to, boy?”

“Excuse me? Mr. Demon?”

Everyone turned to Jada, standing outside of the safe office. She suddenly seemed smaller and more delicate than before.

The demon looked at her with confusion. “D’Hoffryn.”

“D’Hoffryn,” her voice small, “would you like some cookies? It must have been a long trip for you.” With trembling hands, she held out the tin.

Sam whispered, “Now really isn't--”

“Cookies?” D’Hoffryn snarled. “Do you think the Master of the Vengeance Demons can be swayed by baked goods?”

“I-I think it’s impolite to invite someone over without giving them food.”

“You are not one of them,” he said, looking deep into her eyes. “You are afraid of me, yet here you are.”

“Being afraid doesn't mean you should hide,” Jada replied.

The demon plucked a chocolate chip cookie from the tin, sniffed it, and popped it in his mouth. “Mmm! This is almost as good as a blood sacrifice. Did you use real butter?”

“Of course!”

“Would you like to sit down,” she asked, gesturing to one of the salon chairs.

“Jada, remember? We put him in a trap,” Sam whispered in her ear. “He can’t leave that circle.”

“Why would you invite him over only to put him in a trap?” she asked, not bothering to keep her voice down. “You told me it was a bad idea to make him angry.”

“Because they’re morons,” D’Hoffryn said, a smear of chocolate on his lip.

“Told you!” Willow said.

Buffy sighed and pulled a folding knife from her leather jacket.

“Are you people crazy?” Dean asked. “Last time we saw this guy, he set someone on fire and choked me.”

“They’re still right,” Buffy said as she scraped paint from the floor with her knife.

D’Hoffryn stepped out of the circle and loomed over Jada. Grabbing the cookie tin, he plopped into one of the salon chairs and slowly spun around. “What are your questions?”

Dottie Johnson fished a long can out of her underwear drawer and quietly opened her bedroom window. Her niece -- sweet and innocent to a fault -- thought this was Dottie’s daily nap time. The girl wouldn’t dream her aunt regularly sneaked onto the fire escape to enjoy a cigar.

After pulling her chunky cardigan tightly around her shoulders, the old woman cupped her hand around the match, and puffed.

“Sneaking out again?” asked a rich, familiar voice.

“Me? Sneaking? How’d you get out of Heaven, handsome?” Dottie grinned at her husband, still as young as the day he died, leaning against the fire escape railing.

“Didn't need to sneak. Got booted.”

“That's my Jim,” she said proudly. “Would give the devil himself a run for his money.”

Jim smiled, making her tingle all over.

Pushing her sweater to the side, Dottie unbuttoned her blouse, the lace of her bra peeking out. She held her breath in anticipation.

As he’d done often since first appearing to her, Jim spread his fingers over her breastbone, his ghostly fingers pressing through her as a hot spark. It hurt like a shock from an outlet, but Dottie missed his touch too much to whimper. His fingers dipped in and out of her chest.

And then nothing but the cold winter air.

“Why’d you stop?” Dottie asked.

“This won’t work,” he said, exasperated.

Dottie tugged her cardigan tightly around her again. “Sugar, we can make it work. Just tell me what I need to do.”

Jim glared at her with disgust. “For starters, don’t be old and shriveled and closed up.”

The old woman recoiled as if she’d been slapped. “Did you forget your manners since you died? I didn’t ask for your ass to come haunting me!”

“My manners? Woman, I could get inside that crack in you, fill you up, make you warm and tingling until you pop. Dottie Johnson all over the walls. You want that? What I need is a much younger woman.”

Dottie didn’t know what to say. This wasn’t her Jim, and if it was, it wasn’t how she wanted to remember him. She slid her window open and stepped back inside.

As Jada watched a purple, horned demon eat her cookies, she felt like her heart would break her ribs. No one spoke, yet they all seemed disturbingly calm, as if the presence of a demon -- a loose demon -- was as mundane as driving to work. Fearing he’d be less amiable once the treats were gone, she cleared her throat. “Do you know anything about a spell over Sunnydale?”

D’Hoffryn licked some chocolate from his claws and sighed. “You’ll have to be more specific. This is a Hellmouth, after all.”

“Something that keeps people from seeing the monsters, from holding them in their minds,” Sam added.

He flashed a fangy grin. “Oh, that spell. Big fan.”

“You causing it?” Dean asked. His voice was clipped and pushy, like a cop badgering a suspect.

“Miss Rosenberg and I combined couldn’t create a spell this all-encompassing.” The demon popped another cookie in his mouth, moaning slightly as he chewed. “You see, it’s not just Sunnydale, it’s the whole planet. It’s only occasionally broken when idiot vampires or one of the lower beings get villagers in a pitchfork-and-torch tizzy. Otherwise, it’s a perfect shroud for all sorts of unsavory supernatural activities.”

“So whoever is behind this isn’t team human,” Buffy hopped up on one of the salon counters and started twirling a comb in her fingers. “Doesn’t exactly narrow things down. Mr. Big Stuff got a name?”

D’Hoffryn shrugged. “There are rumors of God and gods, but I’ve never concerned myself with who.”

“You said the spell was over the whole earth,” Willow said. “But you’ve traveled to all sorts of dimensions. Have you seen this spell anywhere else?”

“Proving yourself the smart one once again.” The demon looked at Willow with some degree of affection, an idea that made Jada’s stomach lurch. “No, I’ve only seen it here.”

“But you’ve traveled other places?” Dean asked. “Like where we’re from?”

“No, I’ve not been to the Angelverse. Those three-faced bastards keep their dimension on lockdown. Would love a key.” D’Hoffryn poked around in the tin before eating a broken cookie.

Where we’re from? Angelverse? Dimensions? Jada wanted to throw up.

“But angels can come here?” Sam asked.

The demon looked up as if he was looking through the ceiling and into the apartments above. “I think you know it’s not impossible. But there are, of course, consequences.”

“Consequences? What kind? For who?” Sam asked eagerly.

D’Hoffryn dropped the tin with a clang. “Hmm, no cookies, no questions.”

“Please, Mr. Demon, just one more question,” Jada pleaded. “You said you’ve never worried about who is behind all of this, but do you have an idea? A top three? Having a name to attach to this craziness would make me feel safer.”

To her surprise, the demon doubled over laughing. Every time he looked at her, his giggles started anew until black tears streamed from his eyes. Eventually, he composed himself, and snickering through his hand said, “I like you. Deep rage under that skin. Startling control. But how much is that question worth to you?”

“Jada, don’t!” Dean barked as Sam moved between her and D’Hoffryn.

Master of the Vengeance Demons. That’s what he’d called himself. Jada swallowed her fear as she moved around Sam. Her safety wasn’t a laughing matter, but maybe it was negotiable. “I’ll make you more cookies, if that’s what you’d like.”

He pointed a clawed finger at her. “Every week.”

“Jada, no! You’re safe, okay?” Buffy shouted.

She’s so tiny. Jada marveled that Buffy was involved in this monster mess, that she’d survived so long on patrols with Dean. She smiled at Buffy and shook her head.

Sam grabbed Jada’s wrist and whispered in her ear. “Hey, you don’t need to make a deal. I’ll protect you.”

Jada shook her head and turned to face Sam. “You summoned a demon. You started by making him angry. And what information have you gotten? I’m scared Sam. I’m scared of what I know and what I don’t know, but I think it’s time I learn more.”

She faced the demon who was lounging cross-legged in the salon chair.

“This pact is binding,” he explained. “Which means if you miss a week -- you’re in the hospital, you go on vacation, you simply forget -- I own you.”

Jada swallowed. “Will you answer a new question for me every week?”

He stroked his long beard before asking, “Do you do frosting?”

“In my sleep.”

“Why not? I’ll be a chatty Kathy for sweets.”

“Then it’s a deal. Mr. Demon, I, or someone under my roof, will make you cookies every week. Where should I deliver them?”

D’Hoffryn grinned. “Smart girl. I will find you every Thursday. Be ready when I call.

“As to your question, the name is not important if safety is your goal. The Devil is practically on your doorstep, and you’ve left the door unlocked. As long as you associate yourself with The Slayer and the chosen vessels of the archangels Michael and Lucifer, you will never be safe.

“I don’t really have a top three, but if you want a name, my best guess is…” He paused. “Willow.” D’Hoffryn snapped his fingers and disappeared in a flash of light.

Willow looked at the group wide-eyed. “I-I couldn’t even get all the classes I wanted. I’m not--”

Buffy grabbed her friend’s hand. “We know, Will. He’s just messing with us.”

“Can’t trust demons.” Dean looked at Jada pityingly. “Shouldn’t have let her come, Sam.”

Jada scooped her empty cookie tin off the floor. “I’ve found food is the best social lubricant if you want information. So you’re welcome.”

“Look, I’ve been doing this --”

Jada raised her hand, cutting him off. She didn’t want to hear about their life on the road. Their hunts. Their kills. And she didn’t want to be reassured that she was safe. This room full of experts had sought help from a demon only with a plan of rudeness and intimidation -- so no plan at all.

“I have cookies to plan for, and you have information to sort through,” she said firmly before dashing back up to her apartment.

Sam followed her, of course. Knocked a few times. Tried calling her cell. But Jada had dived into research the moment she she got upstairs. With the cat pawing at her legs, Jada sat at her computer and typed in the search: vessel of Lucifer.

The final chapter of Girl Next Door!

#spn x btvs #sam x ofc #spn fan fic #btvs fan fiction #dean x buffy #buffy supernatural crossover #supernatural fanfiction #sam winchester #dean winchester #buffy summers #willow rosenberg #jada green #dottie johnson #d'hoffryn #lucifer #the first evil #supernatural au #girl next door series #hunters on the hellmouth

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mysidewriting · 7 years

Text

Through the Storm

Note: This is it, this is the chapter where the plot finally picks up. Small gore warning...? Also the story becomes multi-perspective from here on out. It'll be obvious, I hope haha.

From the Start --> Previous chapter

Chapter Seven

The train for Johto left at ten. I'd arrive about an hour later, likely exhausted as I normally was asleep by that time. I hated the idea of putting myself into a new, unknown region so late... but I didn't choose the tickets and I wanted as much time in Kanto as I could get before I left.

Lillie was bummed to see me leaving. She'd grown so accustomed to having me around every day that she feared going back to normal days again. I apologized for messing up her schedule but she blew it off, claiming she was thankful I'd stayed. Her mother was sad too, she muttered something about the food being better and more experimental while I was around and I struggled not to laugh when I heard it.

Green and Red had invited Lillie and me to dinner in Fuschia to celebrate the first month of my trip coming to a close. I struggled deciding what to wear as Green had specifically said it was a nicer restaurant. I could tell by the fancy name and high priced menu items that casual wear would make me feel like a sore thumb.

I saw what Lillie had picked for the night, an elegant yet professional looking white dress with one of those cross hatched backs. I panicked momentarily before realizing we were in a relatively large town and I could probably go buy a nice dress in time.

So that's what I did. I ran to town and quickly picked up a dress similar to Lillie's but in black. It didn't cost too much which I was thankful for, not that money was an issue, but it was highly probable that this piece of tight unforgiving fabric would be tossed to the back of my closet back home. Still may be nice to have just in case though.

As I was walking back, debating what else I needed to do to look like a professional, presentable twenty year old, I got a phone call. I didn't bother looking at the caller ID. Figuring it was either Lillie or one of the guys with questions or elaboration... I jumped as I heard Gladion's seemingly signature 'oy' in place of a hello.

"Oh hey?" I laughed, pausing in my path towards the house. "What's up?"

"I finished with work at a half decent time today." I checked my own time to quickly deduce that it was around nine pm in Alola. "Just wondering if you want to finish with what you had to say."

I laughed, "You’re persistent with this!"

"Well I did say we'd talk today as well." He chuckled. I continued on my way back to Lillie's house, hoping that moving would work out the sudden nervous cramp that had built up in my stomach.

"Consistency? This is nice." I smirked at myself. "I actually have some dinner plans soon that I need to get ready for. I have to be formal." I said the last word with a sound of disgust.

"Damn. What are you doing for dinner that requires formal wear?" He questioned.

I hesitated but the fact that Lillie would be with us would hopefully pacify any chance of his strange jealousy flaring up. "Lillie and I are going to some fancy place called 'The Clear Tree' with Green and Red. To like... celebrate and stuff..." I rounded the corner of Lillie's street and slowed down, not really wanting to walk into the house on the phone.

"Oh." He said flatly and I cringed. "Celebrating what?"

"Me leaving." A short laugh left my mouth, "I mean they didn't phrase it like that. It's supposed to celebrate finishing my first month of the trip?"

"Strange... you’re done in Kanto already?"

"Yeah it's been a month." I twirled the plastic bag around my finger, not wanting to cut the call so short on him but I was basically on the doorstep now.

He swore under his breath, "that went... fast."

"It did! But hey, I have to go. We should talk afterwards... if your still up that is" I paused. "You shouldn't be up, you need sleep."

"Yeah... we'll see." He muttered. "Have fun, Moon. Bye."

I sighed as the call ended, he'd sounded irritated anyway. I walked into the house and saw Lillie standing in the kitchen and checking herself against a long mirror. When she saw me a huge grin fell across her already makeup-ed face. "I'm so excited for this!"

She checked the bag I brought in and looked way to excited to see the dress. I expressed my disdain with formal ware and she dragged me into her room where she decided to doll me up for the night. While she was running a flat iron through my hair I brought up the fact that her brother had called me while walking back.

"Really? You guys just talked last night." She laughed, "like for a while, at least long enough that I fell asleep... and I was waiting for you too."

"Yeah, we've really been talking a lot." I reflected back on most of my phone use recently and realized that the only two people I really used the device for was my mother and Gladion.

"Really." Her words came out much more matter of factly this time. I watched her expression through the mirror and wished I could read her mind. "Hmm."

I focused on the feeling of the heat and steady movement of the flat iron at the back of my head. Strangely relaxing for some odd reason. I let my eyes shut. My mind is so stuck on this guy. Why?

Lillie finished with all my makeup, hair dressing, and outfit choices just in time for us to fly to Fushcia and meet up with the guys. Lillie had mega evolved her pidgeot to carry both of us and I was amazed to see how easy it was for her to balance on the back of the bird while in a dress. I struggled to not feel like a total fool in the outfit and on the back of Pokémon. Not that it mattered after we had landed. I was just so focused on how restraining this dress was to my mobility.

Red and Green had also dressed very pleasantly and for good reason. The restaurant was horrendously fancy, I didn't want to question their selection... But I kept glancing to Lillie every time we saw something even remotely posh. I couldn't imagine any reason why we had to go somewhere so over the top nice.

Both the guys planned on covering the cost of everything and I actually let my confusion burst out then, asking why they would do that. The menu was scary to look at in regards to price. That was when Red admitted that his family owned the restaurant and the price wouldn't be bad at all - if it even cost anything. I shot a glare to Green who was sneering at both of us and silently laughing.

After hearing that though, Lillie and I went crazy. Ordering anything that was far beyond the range of our social class’s cuisine. Eager to taste the food of the very rich and wealthy, a chance we'd likely never get again.

The four of us chatted about random things after finishing with the chocolate cake. Discussing future plans and the three of them begging me to come back to Kanto after I'd finished with everything so we could go look around places more. Lillie remarked about how the only one of the bird's I hadn't seen was zapdos and that we should really go see it.

I brought up my want to find mewtwo as well and Red's face paled. "No you don't." I was shocked to hear his voice, so steady... and saying much more than he normally did. "It's horrifically powerful."

I cocked my head to the side, Lillie was so shocked to hear his voice that she just sat there staring at him. "How do you know? Have you seen it before?" I inquired.

Red nodded, "Briefly, on mount silver."

I gaped, the excitement that gripped me made my skin break out in goosebumps. I would be passing through tunnels in Mt.Silver on my way to Johto. Not that I could pop off the train and look around, it was a one stop trip to Goldenrod. But I felt a sudden need to explore the area, maybe just double back through the Johto side... "What was it like?"

Red looked a little sick, "it took out my whole team."

Green sputtered out the wine he had been sipping on, "What?!" He shouted, drawing the attention of the people at the next table over. "You didn't tell me it did that!"

He nodded in response, his eyes sorrowful. "I had to get down mount silver alone."

"I need to see it." I said and Lillie's gaze landed on me, eyes wide. She shook her head back and forth quickly.

"I don't think you should. It sounds scary."

"It can speak." Red muttered, looking off out the large window we were seated by.

"Telekinesis, right?" Green prodded.

Red agreed, clearly unsettled to remember the encounter. I felt bad for him, he'd basically been scarred by it from what I could tell... but at the same time I was jealous. Out of all the legendaries I'd read about, I wanted to see mewtwo most. But the Pokémon had disappeared, basically no information existed about it. My curiosity was so extreme I was practically bouncing in my seat.

"I saw mew yesterday!" I said, recalling the little pink Pokémon that I'd found in the tower.

All three of them were startled, "okay, you know that's a bigger deal right? People weren't even totally sure it existed!" Green said, his voice rising again but Red slapped his shoulder to get him to quiet down.

"No it obviously existed, mewtwo is a clone of something." Lillie said, "But it hasn't been seen since before mewtwo was supposedly created.

She knew a lot more about the legendaries then I'd realized. It wasn't surprising, she'd been researching after I told her about all the legends. That book I'd borrowed from Oak had been resting on her bedside table every night, very thoroughly looked through by both of us.

"Where did you see it?" Green asked.

I paused before diving into the little story about Lavender Town. I'd forgotten about it after talking with Gladion last night, thankfully. I wasn't so happy to be thinking about it again though, especially considering the fact that I would for sure be alone tonight - possibly even sleeping outside somewhere. All three of them were unsettled by the story, Red saying he'd experienced something similar before becoming the champion. Just not the mew part.

Lillie hugged me, "so that's why you looked so scared yesterday! I'm sorry that happened!" She cooed.

I told her it was fine, that I was over it... even though my stomach was churning with nerves as I remembered the sensation of looming over my own grave. I shook myself of the thought and tried to focus my mind on what was currently happening.

"Why do the champions see all the cool stuff?" Green huffed, looking annoyed.

I was about to rebuttal, explain my own reasoning as to why powerful Pokémon came to powerful trainers... but before I could open my mouth there was a loud scream from the room over. The startled moment of silence following was sliced through with a loud crash that shook the room, the lights above flickering with the impact.

More screams erupted, shouts and groans of pain and fear. Both Red and I hoped to our feet and rushed into the room in question. I skidded to a halt as I saw the mess, slapping a hand over my mouth before my own scream could escape.

The window had exploded inwards, huge chunks of glass flying into the building that was bustling with people... everything is red. I struggled to stay in the room, my shaking hands quickly grasped my phone and dialed the police, reporting the situation.

Red shouted at me and I swallowed the rising bile as I turned around once again, trying to not look at the casualties of the accident. A startlingly large charizard lay in the center of the shattered glass. Its wings beating furiously hard and spewing flames angrily towards anyone who attempted to approach it. A black, metal device hung around its neck - a small red light flashing.

Red's pikachu and lapras popped out of their balls. He ordered the pikachu to paralyze the furious beast then lapras blasted it with a water jet. I let Kai out after digging in my small bag for her ball, I had her carefully approach the charizard and rip off the metal device on its neck and bring it to us. A feat that was a lot harder to accomplish than I had thought it would be... I refused to look at the large needle that had previously been dug deep into the charizard's neck. Moments later the police showed up and I handed them the collar before they even saw the room. I explained what I could before management came in and filled in what I couldn't. Red rushed Lillie and Green out of the building before they could be exposed to the mess.

I was thankful to get outside and I sat on the curb for a long while, breathing in the fresh air and digesting the sights I had been exposed to. Lillie sat next to me, eagerly waiting my answer to what had happened. Green was pacing the sidewalk anxiously, waiting for Red to come back outside once again - the champion had said he needed to help the rest of the customers out.

What... just... happened.

My mind was reeling with images of the bloodied room, the people who had been sliced by the glass and burnt by the flames. There were maybe ten survivors - people that had only been injured and not killed. I wrapped my arms tight around myself and dropped my head to my knees. It came out of nowhere! For no reason! No warning!

That device... clearly someone had sent that charizard. Someone had planned this attack and I was mildly worried it had been directed towards Red and me. And if so... many people had been killed in order to get moderately close to us.

No, who would be going after the champions? Who would try to kill us?!

"Moon?" Lillie's hands dropped to my back and she rubbed hesitantly, "what happened?"

Green paused his pacing and looked between both of us. Expectant. I rubbed at my face and sighed.

"A charizard busted in through a window and... And..." I dropped my face to my knees again. "A lot of people died."

Lillie gasped and Green's face became pale. I felt my eyes well up with tears and I collapsed against Lillie. Trying to hold back sobs as my eyes leaked like faulty water sockets. She held my shoulders and cried with me, easily affected by such traumatic news. Green even took a seat next to us and provided his own comfort and way of coping with such a close encounter with death.

Something shattered behind me and I quickly span, swearing as I saw silvally staring at its feet where a shattered vase lay on the ground. Its lupine head snapped up to look at me, worried. A whimper rumbling from its chest.

"Damnit, buddy. Stop following me around." I muttered with a sigh. Patting its head to relieve any anxiety the sound has caused.

Silvally had been oddly anxious the past month, I kept telling myself it was due to memories of Aether all those years ago... but the past two years before this month it had been fine. I just couldn't understand why the Pokémon was so stressed... It'd taken to following me around during work which wouldn't be an issue if it didn't intimidate the injured and rehabilitating Pokémon... or if it weren't so large.

Silvally turned as I walked away, following after me with its head low in embarrassment. I lead it back to the conservation deck where Wicke had helped me set up an area for it to relax while I was working. Silvally reluctantly laid down in the pile of pillows and blankets that had become horribly beat up after months of use. It huffed at me and a frown creased my face.

"I'm sorry, Silv." I apologized, "I'll come back when I'm finished with research." It huffed in response once again and looked away from me. I shoved off the handrails and wandered back towards the house, mind lost in memories of our adventures. When it was always happy.

One of the employees had already tasked themselves with cleaning the shattered vase and I thanked them, apologizing for leaving them with the responsibility. They waved me off with a cheerful grin, "Don't worry about it president, you have more important tasks to attend too." My jaw clenched and I nodded, hastening my walk towards the office.

The room was dark, the only light coming from the computer screen - open to pages and pages of research findings on word. Crushed cans of energy drinks filled the trash can, a notebook full of procrastination drawings sat on the desktop. I hovered in the doorway just staring at the workspace that had sucked away my sleep schedule and hours of free time, my entire body revolted by the idea of sitting there again.

I had been planning on taking the night off from this part of work, getting actual sleep and doing anything else with the time. I guess what I'd really hoped was that I could spend that free time talking with Moon again. So after hearing that she was busy... I just gave in to work.

My phone was resting on the tabletop as well and I snagged it, avoiding that desk the best I could. I sat in the corner of the room and stared at the empty screen of the cell. Stupidly hoping she'd suddenly text and say she was finished with the Kanto champion and his snarky friend. I rubbed at my face, letting the back of my head hit the wall.

I should have texted her a week earlier, should have worked up the nerve. Things could had been different by now. If I had just been less of a shellder...

Eventually I forced myself to sit at the desk and finish up with some of the sections of the reports. All the information the foundation had dug up about the dwindling mareanie populations and the causation for it. I signed off on the report and sent it off to the specific department in charge of formatting and other things. The rest of the work was crunching numbers and test results into actual information that could be easily interpreted. I scrolled through what felt like hundreds of spread sheets until I landed on one about the tapus. Something that had been mildly looked into a few months ago. The most recent information about tapu fini credited to the girl I was still subconsciously waiting on.

Arceus I wish she hadn't left.

Heavy pounding at my door startled me and I quickly span around in the computer chair to face the entrance as the door swung open slowly. Wicke's head poked in, a sympathetic smile on her face. She'd been working just as hard and late as I had been, equally trying to keep up with my work and get ahead on her own.

"Yes, Wicke?" I questioned her, I hadn't intended my voice to sound annoyed but it came off that way anyway.

"A report came in from the Kanto region that I thought you may be interested in, sir." I waved her off, not wanting the formalities considering how late it was and the fact that most employees had went home by now. "I would like to assure Madam Lillie is well, if you could contact her." She handed me a recent police report, something that had come in only an hour ago. I tensed as I took the paper and glanced over the words.

"There were similar reports in the Kalos and Sinnoh regions the past few days." She elaborated. "I'm beginning to worry."

My feet hit the floor quick, I swallowed down the rising bile in my throat as I saw the death toll, the words describing the incident making my stomach flip inside out. "Wh-what?!" I scrambled for my phone as I read the name of the restaurant that had been attacked, I left the room dialing Lillie's number - hoping she may be faster to pick up than Moon would.

Wicke followed after me, the sound of her heels clicking on the tiled floors making my nerves tighten even more. I tapped my shaking hand against my leg as the dial tone rang out far too long.

"Gladion?" Lillie answered, clearly confused to get a call from me.

"Lillie!" I shouted, stopping in my tracks and spinning to face the concerned assistant. "What the hell happened?!"

She stumbled over her words, struggling to respond for what felt like an eternity to my shocked and frazzled mind. "Y-y-you heard already?" She finally got out.

"Wicke pulled up a police report of fifteen people dead at the restaurant you and Moon went to!" Wicke gasped, her eyes going wide as she heard my words. She hadn't know they were there... "What happened?!"

"Apparently a charizard broke through a window and killed a ton of people." She explained with a shaky voice, "I didn't see any of it, we were in a different room. Uh, Red and Moon saw it though. They stopped the charizard."

My heart hit my stomach, no no no. "Is she okay?" I snapped, grabbing a handful of my hair with my free hand. I honestly thought my chest would explode.

"I-I mean she's not hurt." Lillie said. "None of us are hurt." Her voice was so uncertain. "I really don't know anything about it. Neither Red or Moon will tell us anything else."

My jaw clenched, "where is she?"

"I think she's at the police station right now, they wanted to talk to her and Red more. Either that or she's on the train to Johto already."

I swore, "why don't you know?!"

"Relax, Gladion! We're all okay, isn't that the important part?" She defended. "Tell Wicke I said hi, please."

I pressed a fist to my forehead and sighed. "Fine. Bye, Lillie."

"Bye, Bub." She sounded annoyed but I didn't have the time or patience to worry over her petty frustrations. I pulled up Moon's contact information, hesitating over hitting the call button.

"So the champion of Alola was at the restaurant?" Wicke asked, her eyebrows furrowed in concern.

I nodded, "yes, she was.... so was Lillie and the Kanto champion."

She gasped, "The reports from Sinnoh and Kalos... the attacks happened on their respective champions as well." She covered her mouth with a hand and shook her head, "this cannot mean anything good."

I stared blankly at her, nauseous from the news. Moon...don't tell me she's actually in danger. I dialed her number. "Get me all the information you can about these attacks, Wicke. As soon as possible." I said, heading back towards the computer room with my phone pressed to my ear and my heart racing faster than a rapidash.

"Will do, sir." She said, rushing in the opposite direction towards the labs.

Moon didn't answer, I called her probably three times - each twenty minutes apart. I paced the computer room, trying to make sense of the reports Wicke had found. All the attacks had been caused by Pokémon with strange devices around their necks. The only champion that had been directly affected by the attack was the Sinnoh one, a woman named Cynthia who had been struck by charizard's fire breath. She'd fought back as well and made it out without too dire of an injury... no one knew why this was happening.

It couldn't had been a fluke if it had happened in three regions now.

I couldn't focus on work whatsoever so I went up to the conservation deck and sat with silvally who was still a bit pissy with me. It wouldn't look at me and kept walking away each time I got close. "Hey, bud. I'm sorry okay?" I said. "I'm busy these days."

It huffed at me, eyes narrowing to a glare and shaking its head.

"I'll try to be better about going out, okay?" I fell into a pile near a tree and pulled out my phone. Still nothing from Moon. I felt sick. What was she doing? It'd been over an hour since I'd talked to Lillie... was there any chance she could still be talking with the police? She had to be so freaked out...

Something must have made silvally change its mind because the beast settled down next to me, shoving its muzzle against my cheek and grumbling. I placed a hand on its neck and confided in the beastly friend. "I'm worried about her, Silv. I'm so worried."

It cooed and nipped at my cell, I sighed and dialed her once again. Silvally's large head dropped to my lap and I stroked its back, finding comfort in the texture of its black fur.

The call picked up and I tensed, shocked to hear her answer. "Hey." Her voice was barely audible over the line.

I gasped, "Moon, are you okay?"

She hesitated. "I mean... I'm not physically hurt." She laughed but the sound was so obviously fake. "You heard about it already?"

"Yeah. I saw the police report." Do I tell her about the other champions? The other attacks? It'd be good for her to know, to be careful and watchful of something like this happening again. But she had just dealt with something so brutal, I didn't want to stress her out more. But the reason I'm calling is to tell her about the other attacks...

"Oh, I didn't know it got out already. Yeah, tonight was... insane." She faked a laugh again, "I don't think I'm going to sleep."

"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked hesitantly.

"Aren't you going to yell at me for getting in danger?" She questioned back, sidestepping my own inquiry.

I sighed. "You didn't put yourself in this situation, it came to you. I'm not going to yell at you for something you didn't purposefully do."

"This is the second time though." Her laughter was making me uneasy... second time...?!

"What do you mean second time?" I snapped, silvally sat up and punched me with a balled up claw when it heard the venom in my voice and I swore.

"Second time I inadvertently got into trouble." She muttered. "Yesterday I went into Pokémon Tower and ended up like possessed or something! For some reason Null ran in there so I had to get her out."

"Moon, what?!" Silvally roared at me and I shoved its muzzle out of my face, telling it to stop. She laughed over the line and said her hello to the beast that got way to excited to get attention from her as well. I couldn't help but grin at the interaction despite the darkness that hung over the night. "What do you mean possessed?"

She sighed, "I hate to keep shoving this off but I'm alone in a motel and it's my first night in Johto so I don't really want to talk about creepy stuff like this. I can actually tell you everything soon..."

So she's in Johto now. "Okay, I understand."

"Thanks, Gladion." She mumbled, "I really just need time to relax now."

I chewed on my lip, "I know you do, Moon... but Wicke found something relating to the charizard incident and I need to warn you about it." My voice was firm. "There are other reports of the exact same situation happening in Sinnoh and Kalos, charizard specifically attacking champions."

She said nothing, the only thing I could hear over the line was her hitched breaths of nervousness.

"Was there a metal collar on the charizard?" I asked.

"There was." Her words were breathy. "So... so there's someone sending these charizards out to get champions?"

"I'm about 85% sure there is." Silvally's head cocked to the side, watching me carefully. I held a hand out to the Pokémon and it bit at my fingers playfully.

"Shit." Her swearing caught me of guard but it was relieving to see her acknowledging the severity of the situation.

Note cont.: I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Expect to see a lot more of Gladion's perspective and alot more intense stuff in the future! Thanks! c:

#gladion x moon #gladion #gladion fanfic #lonashipping #mahinashipping #pokemon #romance #adventure #Hau x Lillie #through the storm #through the storm chapter seven

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geminirumisidd · 4 years

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[Wanderlust][Chapter Two: Izuku Midoriya]

Now this guy, last I checked, was a precious bean with a heart of gold. When we were kids, I wanted to dye my hair to match his because I'd always wanted Green hair but I got over it since my mom told me swimming would get rid of any colors fairly quickly. Izuku, whom I called Zuku-Chan, but I'd taken to calling him Izu-kun lately after our last couple calls. "Doesn't he not have a quirk?" I ask. "That could've seriously put him in danger!"

"Yeah, but I didn't need his help. That Deku-!"

"And this is why we can't be friends," I sigh at my brother. "You can't get over your ego and admit that you obviously needed help, you can't get over something Izuku has no control over (his quirk), and you can't be worried that he cares so much about you that despite knowing full-well he could've died, and that you're an asshole he tried to save you anyway?" I glare at Katsuki who frowns at me. "Unbelievable."

I climb up the stairs with Katsuki shoring after me (I slammed the door in his face) and pull out a black tank top and put a jeans jacket over it, along with high waisted black pants and a chain belt. I brush and throw my hair into a spiky ponytail and pick out some socks and combat boots. I don't bother with makeup; it's Izuku Midoriya I'm going to see, my best friend from when we were kids. I stomp out the door with Katsuki still trailing after me. "Get lost you Pomeranian!" I shout, before turning around and smiling pleasantly "that's how you say bastard in a language called intelligent."

"You fucking-! Where do you think you're going?!" Katsuki growls and picks out a jacket of his own.

"To Izuku's house." I unlock the door. "Problem?"

"Yeah, actually." He says, somewhat calmer than before. "In case you didn't know,

I just got attacked by a villain in this same neighborhood. I'm not letting you get in trouble, too."

"So you're coming, too?"

"Only to make sure you don't die or shit." He grumbles. "The old hag would kill me if something happened." For those who don't speak Katsuki Bakugo, here's a translation: you're my sister and even if we haven't seen each other in years and don't exactly see eye to eye, I don't want you getting hurt.

"Sure thing, Kacchan!" I smile and poke his face while on my tiptoes. Yeah, I've always been much shorter than Katsuki. He's 5'7 ish and I'm way down here at about 5'1.

"Don't call me that, you remind me of the weak nerd-!"

"Fine. Enough sulking, Katsuki. We got to go before it gets too dark out."

I lead the way to Izuku's house and knock on the doorbell, Inko Midoriya answering. "Mrs. Midoriya!" I smile in glee. I hug her at the door.

"Oh, my! Come in Kagome, it's been too long!" She hugs me gently and leads me inside. "Katsuki, dear, you never come by anymore." Inko smiles at him kindly. She must not know about him bullying her son. I smile at her and remind myself to glare at Katsuki later. Oddly enough, he's docile and bows toward her. Maybe it's old memories of being here all the time, or maybe he doesn't want her to know what's happened between him and Izuku, but he's mostly polite, if a bit neutral. "I'll go get Izuku-!"

"It's perfectly fine, Mrs. Midoriya, he's in his room, right?" She nods and I grin. "I'd like to surprise him. I didn't tell him I was back in Japan. Katsuki, how about-!"

"I'll stay here and talk with Mrs. Midoriya. I don't-!" I don't want to see that damned nerd.

"Okay, I got it," I say, with a roll of my eyes. I clamber you the stairs quietly and knock at Izuku's door. "Honey," I mimic Mrs. Midoriya's voice. "Can I come in?" It was a poor imitation.

"Mom do you have a cold or something," Izuku opens the door quickly, concerned why his mom's voice seems different. And the shock is evident when he sees me. "K-k-Kagome-Chan!"

"Izu-kun!" I laugh and tackle him into a hug. He's wearing an All Might hoodie with some sweatpants. "You haven't- whoa, dude, you're tall!" I laugh and look up at him as we stand back up.

"I thought you were the athletic one!" He laughs. "But wow, look at you! You're one of the top swimmers in the world! And," he holds my shoulders. "You've got the classic swimmer thing. Your shoulders are all muscle-y! I'm going to start working out soon. Then we can match."

"Oh, I'm so happy to see you!" I jump up on him. "Carry me! No one ever gives me piggy back rides, and you know Katsuki's an asshole-!"

"You two still haven't made up?" He asks, concerned. Izuku does let me climb him, and I'm impressed that he can hold my weight. Sure, I don't eat too much, but muscle weighs more than fat, and I weigh quite a bit in that case.

"He still bullies you. And you!" I smack his head gently. "What were you thinking fighting that monster?!" I hug him. "That's why I came over actually, you had me worried. You know that type of stuff is dangerous."

"Do you think I did something wrong?" He asks. The hidden question: are you doubting I can become a hero?

"No, of course not. I'm grateful that you went to stick up for my ass of a brother, I just wish you were more careful about it." I know I have to phrase this carefully. "I was just worried you got hurt, you know. I'd hate for my one best friend to have..."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. Anyway, are you back for a competition or a break," Asks Izuku. "How long are you staying?"

"I'm actually trading my sponsorship in with Endeavor. He's recommending me to... Izuku, I'm going to U.A!" I hug his head tightly.

"Really! That's amazing!" He grins and starts walking down the stairs. "Just like how we planned before we found out I didn't have a quirk. I'm applying, too, actually."

"We can both get in without using quirks!" I whoop. "Hear that, Kacchan?!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." He glares at me from his place on the couch. "Deku."

"K-k-!"

"Leave him alone, Katsuki." I growl, getting off Deku's back. Mrs. Midoriya is in the bathroom, and he lets himself be a jerk while she's gone.

"Or what, wannabe weakling?" He says, bumping his forehead to mine. I bump right back and poor Izuku is standing in the background shaking.

"Please stop, you two?"

"Shut up, Deku!"

"NO WAY!" Katsuki and I growl at each other for speaking at the same time.

"You think you can pass the practical without exploding something? I don't doubt you'll get into U.A, I just doubt that you're going to do it without your powers, little sister."

"We're twins, asshole. I'm not that little. And yeah? I'll get in without them. I was planning on maybe using them, but you just had to go and say that I couldn't do it." If someone tells me not to do something, you can be assured, I will do exactly that and go past my limits to irk them. "Tch."

"Oi-!"

"Izuku, honey, ask the twins if they'll stay for dinner?"

I back off Katsuki quickly and he backs off roughly. Izuku sweat drops and I smile apologetically at him before glaring at Katsuki one last time. "Katsuki?"

"I don't think so, Mrs. Midoriya. Sh-uh... we just wanted to drop by and see if Deku was alright. The old hag wants us home for dinner, probably."

"Another time, then, kids. Be safe!" She smiles as she closes the door behind us. Katsuki and I stay silent on the way back to our house. Izuku used to call this 'Bakugo's in Neutral,' and I personally am usually like this. A bit on the side of profanity, but I'm not as angry with the rest of the world as I am with Katsuki.

"A word of advice, Kagome," Katsuki mumbles looking the other direction. "When you do get into U.A, remember that you aren't there to make friends."

"Tch. I know that. I'm there to be number one."

"Then what was all that hugging with Izuku."

"Oi, Kacchan," I poke at his chest and stop. "I don't need friends, I don't want them, but once I have them I don't abandon them like you. I don't ditch people." I refuse to have given up nine years of a happy, cuss filled life with my family and not finish proving the point I set out to prove. Katsuki needed to get it through his head that the past was there for a reason; you don't leave people behind. Especially not my people. I'd become number one just to spite him. Even if he stopped being there for me and Izuku, I wouldn't stop being there for anyone. I'm there. I'm always there.

I won't use my quirk for two reasons. One, because he thinks I need it. I don't. Two, because Izuku has always held a special place in my heart, and I will work just as hard as him to prove you don't need a quirk to be great.

We arrive home a bit late for dinner. The old hag and the Pomeranian keep shouting at each other from across the table, so the old man and I watch them slowly eating our food. "Not going to join them."

"I'm trying not to lower my IQ." I shrug and Dad chuckles a little before bringing some noodles to his mouth. I'm not so lucky, as Katsuki and the Old Hag heard what I said.

"WHAT DID YOU SAY??" Sparky-sparky-boom-boom-man growls.

"IT'S NOT LIKE SHE'S WRONG!!"

"You see what I mean? I don't have the energy to deal with them right now. Jet lagged as heck." I groan tiredly. I quickly finish my noodles and go to Katsuki's room to pull out a book. We kept all the books in his room because he had a shelve for all his comics, and even though he never used it, his room was basically the library. "Katsu, I'm taking a book!" I shout, running down the stairs. I hold it up for him to see.

"What are you telling me for, nerd?"

"Thought you were the house librarian."

"Tch. I'd yell at you but my head hurts from the old hag smacking me and I don't want to kill her before she makes our favorite food tomorrow, so whatever." In short, this means: Take whatever books you want, my head hurts. If you can hear me, bring me an Advil or something.

Being the incredibly tolerant person I am, I throw a bottle of Advil at his head and pass him a full glass of water. "You're welcome."

"Thanks." He mumbles, too tired to argue.

I trek back up the stairs and open the book. It's an old copy of One Punch Man, edition 4. He reminds me of if All Might was young and bald and had no passion. That would be an interesting sight to see, I suppose. The manga doesn't take me long to finish, and as soon as I do, I head over to the bathroom to clean up, shower and what not. I change into a grey onesie because I wanna feel comfortable and onesies are... well, they're perfect for sleeping. I turn the lights off and shove the curtains closed before falling asleep.

I didn't sleep much that night, actually.

There was a moth tapping against my window and the was freaking out. "Kacchan?" I whimper embarrassed as I hug the pillow. Our rooms are separated by a wall, and Katsuki was a light sleeper last I checked, so I knock gently at the wall. I had a serious problem with those fuckers. Butterflies and moths, I mean. It was pretty stupid. The door creaks open a minute later and when Katsuki notices the set of wings, he grumbles and opens the window. It flies in and I whimper, hiding beneath my covers. He catches it by the wings.

"Haven't gotten over that," he asks. "You lil' shit. Don't wake me up again." He releases it out my window, and sets off a mini-crack in his hand to scare it away. I release a breath I didn't know I was holding. Sleepily, Katsuki pats my head and I watch in surprise. "You're our lil' shit, sis. I'll always keep you safe, just like I promised." Katsuki shuffles over to his room and his bed creaks when he lays down.

Why couldn't he keep the same promise for Izuku?

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