#and then fixing them in my head with thought out explanations and motives and outcomes | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

purplellamanator · 3 years

Text

So, I'm sorry I don't really know what to call this and did not give it a name- but, this is a product heavily inspired by these head-canon's created and posted by @detectivegeekshin! Please check them out if you haven't already! (if you're following me though you probably already did :D) This is insanely long though and I hope ya'll like it! Sorry @detectivegeekshin that it took me so long! I've been working on this for more than two months I think- so again, sorry!!! Thank you for allowing me to use your ideas to make, what was supposed to be a drabble, story and I hope I did your head-canon's justice! Please excuse my grammar mistakes! I tried my best to clean it up! Thank you again!

Read below the cut for the story :)

Stealing wasn't exactly the word he wanted to use. He didn't consider himself to be a thief. Was it really even stealing if he was taking it from someone it didn't actually belong to? Shinichi didn't think so.

And it wasn't about giving the wealth back to the poor. He wouldn't necessarily call himself Robin Hood either. It was about returning something to its rightful place; to the rightful owner.

It was wrong. All of it. It went against the very morals he himself created to follow when he first decided he'd be the greatest detective of the era. Stealing was wrong no matter if it was stealing something that was already stolen. It was the law and if the law was followed, then it would work out correctly in the end either way.

But that way of thinking wasn't always true. He realized that the longer he worked in this business and the more experience he gathered. It would be a nice world to live in when the law could fix everything. And unfortunately he wasn't naïve enough to actually believe that world existed anymore.

The first time he did it, it had gone against every fiber of his being. The mental crisis he thrusted his entire being into had sidelined him for weeks. So ashamed, Shinichi couldn't bring himself to work on another case. What right did he have? To expose criminals for killing? For kidnapping? For stealing?

He had no right. He was no better than those criminals. Because that was what he was now- a criminal.

The stress and just anxiety that this put him under- Shinichi considered dropping his dream of being a detective. His morals and guilt had been tearing him apart inside.

Until he turned on the news and remembered why he did what he did.

A woman was crying. They were tears of joy and happiness. And she was thankful. Thankful that the heirloom that had gone missing for decades had miraculously found its place back on her dresser. That she had no idea who or how it happened but she was grateful to whomever had given her this.

And that was when Shinichi was reminded of what finally pushed him to this. What made him crack.

He was a detective and he had done his job. He found the precious necklace that had eluded every private eye hired before him. He located it and all they had to do was retrieve it and return it back where it belonged.

But the police couldn't. They needed warrants and that took time. Time they did not have enough of. It would be sold once more on the black market and disappear likely for another decade before they were even served.

The adrenaline that had coursed through him when he finally decided what he would do. He had never felt more satisfied. There had been no disguises; no gimmicks. Just himself. His own face and his own brain. And they still hadn't caught him. It had been easy. So much easier than waiting on the courts.

After that day he saw the news, Shinichi had walked with his head held higher than any other day. He didn't know why exactly. It wasn't like anybody else besides him knew what he had done. No one but him was aware that the woman got that necklace back because of his own actions. Yet hearing people congratulate and whisper about how amazing the mystery was made him smug.

Shinichi told himself it would be a one time thing. Seeing that woman from before distraught and sobbing that her family's prized possession would likely never be returned in her lifetime- it had done something to him. It made him act. Even though he usually did so well detaching himself emotionally from his cases, that one alone had gotten to him. But he'd do better next time. Even if the outcome would be bittersweet and leave him feeling like he failed, he could not do it again. No matter who the victim was or if they cried.

But he didn't stick to that clearly because he did it again a month later, and then soon after that, and again after that.

His excuse each time- he had done so well not getting caught before. What could it hurt to do it again? It was easier. It was faster. With his genius he was sure he would get away with it no matter how many times he tried this. He couldn't be caught. He couldn't be beat. He was just too . . good at it.

Until he wasn't.

He had gotten too cocky; too arrogant. He should've stopped while he was ahead. He had gotten away with it so many times and yet he kept pushing it. And he pushed the boundaries each time. He got more and more careless than the last. And now he was stuck explaining to the last person he ever wanted to find out, why he was parading around as some law abiding detective when he was really a thief.

In the midst of his newly found hobby, Ran- one of his best friends, had realized he was not acting the same as usual. Shinichi didn't allow her to join him to certain cases anymore. He would be secretive about where he was going afterwards as well as if she had somehow already been there, he had even told her to straight up leave.

He should've known that Ran would notice something sooner. It wasn't like him to ever hide things from her and it definitely was not normal for him to tell her to leave a crime scene- unless it was a rather dangerous one. Cases that had to do with robbery didn't normally fall under that. Those were the cases he'd usually rather her witness. She didn't like anything with too much gore and like any normal person, she got scared if she even saw a corpse.

But each time he told her to leave or that she shouldn't follow him. Most of the time he did lie and say it was because he worried it would turn violent. Other times he didn't give a reason. And he definitely should've noticed her suspicion because he normally loved having her witness his cases and deductions. He liked impressing her.

Unfortunately, he didn't notice in time that he was actually worrying her. His sudden change was concerning to her and she ended up following him when he said the Inspector had called and asked for him to come by the station.

Shinichi never went to the station. There had never been a call. Instead, donning his change of clothes, he took a train almost a full hour out till he reached his actual destination.

When he said he had started pushing the boundaries, he had meant it. No longer did his thefts remain with cases within the Japanese Police. He started digging for unresolved cases in the black markets.

The entire time Ran had been tailing him. She had followed him the entire way and he hadn't noticed a single thing, which he didn't know if he should be annoyed by or impressed.

When he had almost been shot however and Ran's foot suddenly came down on the guards head, he settled on being impressed. Because though he was furious she had followed him into such a dangerous underground location, she had saved his ass. And it didn't help that Ran was aware of that fact.

She hadn't pressured him for an explanation. Shinichi thought she would yell at him and demand to know what he was doing and why. Ran hadn't done any of that. Instead, she took it upon herself to be his lookout as he finished what he originally set out to do.

Ran kept her thoughts to herself at first. It had made him nervous considering he was expecting her anger. When he hadn't gotten it, he didn't know what to expect now. Her moral compass was just as strong as his had been. When she realized what he was doing- and she definitely already had, he could only assume it'd upset her. Why wouldn't it? At this point he was no better than-

"Are you Kaito Kid?"

Kaito Kid. Obviously he knew who she was talking about. And it was actually insulting and ticked him off.

What he did took more skill. He wasn't some magic freak with a couple fog machines and pet doves. He had no disguise. If Shinichi wanted something, he walked in there and took it. With his own face.

With a stony expression, he denied the accusation. As far as he was concerned, he always thought of the Phantom Thief as, exactly that, a thief. Truthfully, he hadn't run into the magician too much after his new found discovery. And at the thought he realized that it must mean Kid wasn't after just any treasure. He must've been looking for something in particular which reminded him that he didn't know the guy's actual motive behind his crimes. Maybe like him, he realized, Kid might have a valid reason for turning to crime.

When he started sympathizing with a criminal however he noticed how far in his own crimes he actually was.

Ran took his denial in stride. She didn't seem all that surprised by his response. She clearly didn't actually think he was the Phantom Thief. But oddly enough, she didn't really ask for an explanation. If he wasn't doing this as Kid, then why was he doing it? She didn't claim to want to know.

Oddly enough, that annoyed him as well. It should be a good thing she wasn't drilling him for answers. She was just accepting what he was doing and not going to stop him.

"You're that vigilante thief they're talking about all over the news. . . aren't you? The Night Baron?"

Night Baron? Out of all the things, that's what they decided to go with? And though it was exactly what he was, the word vigilante left a bad taste in his mouth.

This accusation was different however. Unlike the Phantom Thief one, she uttered this one with confidence. If he denied this, Ran would not believe him. There was no point in trying anyway when she had literally caught him in the act.

It took him aback a little that she had caught on so easily. The Night Baron wasn't as common in the news. He hadn't been doing this nearly as long as the other well known thief. It made him question if she'd been contemplating this for awhile. How long had she suspected him? And how could she not say this without any ounce of anger?

"Well. . . I have faith in you, Shinichi," she finally said when he asked. "I know you and I know you wouldn't be doing this unless you had a good reason or you thought it was right."

"And what you're doing is right. The Night Baron helps people."

The amount of trust she put in his character made him feel warm inside. It was embarrassing but that sentiment made the corners of his eyes almost prickle. Shinichi hadn't realized how desperately he had wanted to hear those words. He thought he had come to terms with his guilt. But clearly he had not if hearing Ran say that almost made him get choked up.

Ran didn't think less of him for losing his morals. She didn't look at him in disgust. She approved of it. She encouraged him for doing it. No explanation given yet and she had already determined that what he did, he did for good. He had no desire or intention for personal gain. And he had never felt like someone had ever seen him so clearly before.

Again, she didn't push for his actual reasonings. Based off her earlier assumptions, she likely already knew them. But though it was clear she didn't think it, he didn't want to risk her assuming he was some mindless criminal. Without her prompting, he gave his explanation.

The law wasn't enough sometimes. And though it was sad and went against what he engrained in his own head, this was the best and more efficient option. After all, if you want something done correctly, do it yourself then, right?

Ran hadn't so much as flinched. And it was staggering.

"You're not upset?" He couldn't help the disbelieving tone he used. It was almost a little concerning she wasn't more opposed to this.

Ran shrugged. "I am a little. Clearly you've been doing this by yourself and lying to me when you could've just told me."

Tell her? Why would he want to tell her?

"Shinichi, you were almost shot. Clearly you need help doing this."

Absolutely not.

That had been his initial reaction. If he ever for some reason got caught, it would likely drag her down with him. And that was the last thing he wanted.

But after sleeping on it for a quite a few days, and also that he couldn't sneak off anymore once Ran realized what he was going, Shinichi began to see the possible perks to working with a partner. And not just any partner but Ran specifically.

She was smart. He was definitely the mastermind behind all of their plans but that was not to say Ran couldn't come up with a plan of her own. Her insight gave another perspective that sometimes, he never would've thought of. If she didn't like an idea, she said it. If she thought they should do something else, she told him. Shinichi wasn't perfect. He missed things sometimes. It was good to have her pair of eyes as well.

It was just as helpful to have her brute strength as well. He assumed most would find it somewhat emasculating to be physically weaker than their female counterpart. Shinichi didn't mind at all. He was strong as well but admittedly, there were things Ran could do that he could not. Like denting a wall with her bare fist.

With Ran added into the picture, it came with even more possibilities. And perks.

The one person he didn't want to have to lie to, he didn't have to anymore. And they worked close.

He liked that too.

Ran was a good asset and made his job a whole lot easier. He really took note of that fact when instead of climbing through an air duct to sneak into some party, Ran had somehow managed to get them clearance through the front door.

And that wasn't nearly all she was able to do.

Ran is gorgeous. It was the bitter sweet conclusion he came to when Ran easily had the host eating out of the palm of her hand. The guy probably would've just given her the painting they were after if she simply asked properly.

The thought annoyed him.

He always knew he had a thing for Ran. He was pretty sure everybody knew that fact besides the girl herself. He had known her for a long time now. They had been friends since the first year of college. Their friend group was also the same and their parents both had ties to the Japanese Police Force. And she was stunning to look at. He'd argue it would be impossible for him not to take a liking to his friend.

He never told her though. He didn't know if she felt the same and after this partnership they just started, he wasn't sure it was worth the risk. If he tried a move and it scared her off, he'd have to revert to working alone. And he didn't want to do that for more reasons than one.

Like he acknowledged before, Ran was beautiful. He was not alone in that belief. It made it all the more difficult to witness guys flaunt their wealth and good looks in her face. He didn't want to see that. They didn't actually know her. Ran was his friend for three years. They didn't deserve her especially when clearly all they wanted was to undress her. And they were arguably worse criminals than half the people he got locked up.

So it was all instinct when he finally cracked. Some guy whom they didn't know was trying to dance with Ran. And he wasn't just 'trying'. He was touching and caressing her arm. Gritting his teeth, Shinichi couldn't help himself when he wrapped an arm around Ran's waist and tugged her back into his chest.

"I thought the first dance was mine, wife."

It was stupid. He had no idea why he allowed that to slip out. If he didn't have better control of his emotions he probably would've turned flustered all the way to his toes.

Ran's eyes bulged. "W-wife?!"

Honestly, her surprise couldn't be helped. He had totally blindsided her. It was his fault. And he definitely didn't have a valid enough reason to interfere like he did.

Sensing something was off between the couple, the other guy raised a brow as he eyed the arm wrapped firmly around her waist. "You don't recognize your own husband?"

Shinichi wanted to bash his own head against the wall. This was why they weren't supposed to go against the plan. Posing as her husband had definitely not been part of what they discussed earlier. It caused too many questions that they did not prepare beforehand to answer-

A hand suddenly slid up and brushed against his cheek softly. "We're not married just yet, Shin-chan. Only engaged so it's a bit too soon to be saying that," she chastised with a giggle; her acting on point.

Beyond his control, he could feel a slight heat rise to his cheeks. The intimate way she touched his face wasn't helping either. He swallowed hard as he looked down at her eyes, meeting her softened gaze.

"Oh, forgive me. I didn't see the ring."

The ring?

Ring?

A ring!

They didn't even have rings to back up their story-!

It was at that point Shinichi didn't know if the guy was actually apologetic for hitting on a married woman or suspicious that they weren't actually a couple that was engaged.

"No, it's our fault really," Ran said sheepishly. "This dummy here didn't get me the right ring size so it's sadly getting resized."

Shinichi was a little insulted. He would've most definitely did his research to get her the correct ring size before proposing.

After the guy walked away, they both found their way to the dance floor with all the other couples and joined in the slow sway. If asked why, he'd argue it was to back up their story even more. Deep down though, Shinichi knew better.

Ran was oddly silent however.

"Shin-chan?" He grumbled with forced annoyance. At the time it had completely caught him off guard. The nickname that his mother used for him. At the time he figured it was payback for the confusion he started. It didn't mean he hated the name any less.

But just as easily, she quipped back, "Wife?" She raised a brow as if to drive her point and he immediately shut his mouth.

It was definitely payback.

Ran never did question why he stepped in that night. They were on a job after all and he deduced that likely she had already forgotten what he'd done. Besides the little hiccup, every thing else went according to plan. Everything else stayed the same.

Until their next job. And the job after that. And the one after that.

Because that one night when they had taken the painting; it had started a trend of sorts. A trend where one or the either would claim to be in a relationship with the other. Before it had started with a dance which at the time, neither had been prepared for and both were too awkward to acknowledge properly. But the next time they are holding hands and eventually it becomes normal for Ran to hug his arm to her chest or for him to hold her waist.

Each time is a mystery to them. Neither have any idea what they'll be. It was a constant cycle of being married, to dating, to two already taken spouses in a very wanton and promiscuous love affair. And the stories they came up with on the spot were more extravagant and extra than the last. And they were never prepared before hand. Suddenly it was a game for them. How deep could they take this? What tale could they come up with this time? It was getting out hand. The stories were getting more detailed each time, he almost believed the lies himself.

Shinichi didn't usually snap back out of it until he saw her again in class the next day. They weren't childhood friends that had been together since preschool days. He hadn't dramatically confessed his love in London while the Big Ben chimed behind them. They hadn't shared a first kiss at Kiyomizu-dera on a school trip to Kyoto.

And it didn't stop there. If they weren't already talking to each other, they would always be touching in some form. Whether that was by a hand resting against his thigh or his fingers dragging dangerously low on her lower back.

It was a very small line they were tiptoeing against and the blatant flirting they joined in with was starting to toy with his emotions. It was one thing to elaborate or give false truths to further their disguises. It was another entirely to grope each other secretly. There was no witness to convince. Who were they showing off for other than each other?

It was getting increasingly more difficult to act like nothing was going on- or at least nothing was going on with his end. He was stressed and constantly filled with anxiety that at some point these lies would eventually bleed into their actual daily lives. Because when he once again had to suppress the urge to grab her hand as they walked from class, he was realizing once again who they actually were.

They were Shinichi and Ran. A Shinichi and Ran that had met three years ago in a shared psychology class. A Shinichi and Ran that were best friends and nothing more. A Shinichi that had been mooning after the same girl since he first met her. A Ran that as far as he could tell, didn't share that same sentiment.

This whole thing was a dangerous idea where his emotions were involved. And due to his argument that they didn't need to stop this 'charade' or whatever was the proper term to call it, it wasn't a matter of if this would affect their personal lives. It was a matter of when.

Surprisingly, it wasn't him that cracked.

It had been an honest mistake- one Shinichi didn't exactly mind. They had been in a study session with Sonoko and Nakamichi. It was a hot day and they had all taken refuge in the campus library. And to also help combat the heat, Shinichi had a water bottle that he was casually sipping on. One that Ran had easily grabbed from his hands to take a swig out of.

Shinichi didn't mind. He really didn't and truthfully, he probably wouldn't of even noticed if it weren't for the fact all their friends froze to gap at her incredulously. She had done this to him numerous times on a job. Asking for a sip of his champagne or simply stealing a bite of food off his plate. It had been a shock the first time but it in the moment he knew that was likely her intention to get a rise out of him. Now however, he was positive that she had fell into that act by mistake. She didn't mean anything by it, he was sure- not like she used to.

Nakamichi whom had been in the process of reading out his answer for one of the questions on the study guide had trailed off slowly, almost completely floored by what he had witnessed. Sonoko looked like she would fall out of her seat.

It was almost laughable that Ran didn't realize the stares that were being drilled into her. Attempting to keep his face neutral, he nudged his knee into hers gently and it was only at that she finally began to realize her mistake.

Features turning a scorching red, she quickly forced the water back into his hands. "I-I'm so sorry!" she burst. "I have no idea why I did that! I don't know what I was thinking," she sputtered. "I-it was just so hot and I-I-"

She was drowning; sinking further into her panic and he tried to save her.

"Ran, it's okay," he said calmly even though on the inside, he was freaking out just as much as she was. "It's hot outside and I've known you forever. We can share a water bottle." Shinichi was trying to play it cool. For the sake of their image with their friends.

Of course it wouldn't be enough to deter the teases they were sure to receive from their friends but what else could he do? He couldn't very well say she grabbed his by mistake. It had literally been in his hand. He had just drank out of it and been going to sip out of it again when she grabbed it. And he definitely couldn't say that she did this to him all the time when pretending to be his wife.

There was absolutely nothing they could say to excuse this. The whole scene had been way too casual even for the two of them. Sonoko, whom had made numerous jokes that they were actually a married couple, looked like this was too much for even her to comprehend. Because whether she knew he had a thing for Ran or not, anything she said before this had been harmless taunts.

"How long has then been going?!" Sonoko having determined that the study session was now over, pointed between them furiously. And that wasn't just an exaggeration. Sonoko looked irritated. Not because they were seemingly dating but because she had both missed and not been informed when it happened.

But there was nothing to tell. Nothing was going on- or rather nothing in the way she was thinking. No matter how many times they both told her that, the Suzuki heiress did not look convinced. Not even Nakamichi seemed to trust it but unlike the other girl, he thankfully kept his accusations shut till they were in private.

"Look- I'm not saying I'm mad or anything. It just sucks a little that you didn't tell me," his friend finally admitted when they left the two girls at the library.

Neither had been worried or surprised when Sonoko said they would catch up with them later. Shinichi felt bad for abandoning Ran but he knew that Sonoko would want to grill her for answers. It would've been more humiliating for both of them to be present for that.

Nakamichi wasn't nearly as difficult as Suzuki to deal with but Shinichi still found himself rolling his eyes. "I already told you," he said tiredly. "Ran and I are not dating." Shinichi wasn't sure how many more times he would have to say just that. He didn't even know if there was any other way to word what he was trying to get through his friend's apparently thick skull.

Suddenly his friend stopping walking, forcing him to do the same. For some reason his eyes were wide and a slight red was forming on his cheeks. "Oh."

Oh? Shinichi raised a confused brow. "What?"

"Well- I just never thought Ran-chan would ever. . . " Nakamichi trailed off, scratching behind his ear awkwardly. "She just doesn't seem the type, you know?"

Huh?

"Her . . type?"

And then suddenly his friend looked concerned, waving his hands in front of him defensively. "Hey- I'm not judging! Whatever you wanna call it- I support it!"

Suddenly Shinichi was freezing himself. "What the hell are you talking about?" he asked aggravatedly.

"You and Ran-chan aren't dating but you're. . . you know," Nakamichi said pointedly. "You still could've told me though. I'm not going to tell anybody. Have some faith man. We've know each other since grade school."

Shinichi's eyes bulged and all the blood rushed to his face as understanding finally hit him.

"Ran and I aren't dating and we're not doing t-that either!" he exploded.

oOo

Without Ran even needing to tell him, Shinichi knew Sonoko must've given her a hard time afterwards. Nakamichi probably wasn't nearly as difficult to deal with but it still had been an uncomfortable conversation nonetheless.

His friend actually thought that he and Ran were having . . . sex on the side.

He wouldn't be so lucky.

Shinichi was flushing at the thought alone. It had been so humiliating.

But what made it worse however was when Ran actually apologized to him again in private. She reiterated once more that she couldn't understand what she had been thinking in the moment. She also suggested that maybe it would be best to stop pretending. It was mixing them up in real life and confusing for both of them.

A small part of him was crushed by her suggestion no matter how logical it was. It hurt.

Shinichi rejected the idea. He agreed that maybe they could tone it down some. They didn't need to be a couple every time they did a job. But he also argued that sometimes the act actually did make their job easier. And deep down there was another reason he didn't want to share.

Because if they gave up their little charade, then he knew what that would mean. There was no logical circumstance that would allow him to touch her and flirt with her like when they were on a job. And he desperately didn't want to lose that. Even if their act escalated each time.

But he knew Ran had a point.

Their next job was once again at another extravagant and fancy party. And this time, they both arrived alone. The two had snuck in separately and at different times as well. And throughout the entire night, neither acknowledged the other. They acted like perfect strangers.

This time the showcase was a pearl. A pearl that would surprisingly 'go missing' by the end of the night. And like every other job they did, he had a plan that they had gone over in detail numerous times. One that didn't work out at all considering the whole night had been derailed by the sudden appearance of the Phantom Thief.

The moment that magician's calling card appeared, Shinichi knew they'd have to make adjustments to their plan and they needed to do it now. If KID followed and stuck by the time on his announcement, then the pearl they were both after would be long gone by the time they got anywhere near it.

They had to improvise which was difficult without them even talking to each other. Besides that factor added in, throwing Kid into the mix only derailed everything further. If they wanted any hope of beating Kid, then they had to act right then.

To be honest, it wasn't very surprising they were almost caught. It hadn't been particularly smart of him to continue with his intentions of stealing the pearl. Just Kaito Kid being there caused too much of a scene. Any calling card that arrived meant it would soon be followed by police and a camera crew. The Phantom Thief brought media attention wherever he went. It was dumb of him to not just give the pearl to the thief. Especially cause-

Kaito Kid had mentioned the Night Baron in his calling card. He had made it clear he was aware that he wasn't the only thief present with their sights set on the pearl. And he had mentioned the other thief by name.

That gave a lot of insight Shinichi wasn't even sure Kid meant to give. That calling card told the detective that either Kid knew what types of jobs the Night Baron targeted or worse- that he knew the true identity of the Night Baron. And if the latter was correct, then it meant that someone had been watching him for a long time. Someone was probably watching him right now. And if that were the case, Kid knew his entire plan.

The right thing to do would be to pull back. To grab Ran and bail. The plans he had made were done without taking Kaito Kid into account. But if the other thief really had been watching him, then those plans could be tossed out a window. Nothing was worth getting both him and Ran caught and possibly arrested. The logical conclusion was to escape while they could.

Shinichi was too prideful for that. And stubborn. This wasn't his first run-in with the Moonlight Thief. Shinichi had dealt with him quite a few times when helping Inspector Nakamouri or Inspector Meguire. This would however be the first time he ran into the guy when he was on one of his own little side jobs.

And he was not prepared. Fighting against him as a detective had numerous resources. He had the Japanese Police Force at his disposal. As well as when he was working his real job- he did not need to hide his own face. Not only could he be recognized by the police, he had also made a name as a criminal. If somehow his face was linked to the scene of all those crimes- he was done for.

But like the idiot he was, he couldn't help but take this as a challenge. The fact Kaito Kid mentioned him by name in his calling card told him that the thief knew he was there and also he didn't really care nor was he stressed by that.

It wasn't like him to panic. But in the end, that was what he'd done. His actions had been panicked and rushed and honestly- thoughtless. Ran hadn't scolded him at all through the night; probably thinking now wasn't the time when they were running from police officers. Shinichi could just feel her disapproval however. He knew the moment they were out of here and alone at his house, he'd receive the yelling of a lifetime.

Getting an earful would be the least of his worries if they couldn't find a way out of this building. All of the usual exit points had been closed or cut off due to Kid's warning for his appearance. The guy was a showoff and frustrating. Shinichi knew it was all part of the guy's show to leave people wondering just how he made his escape.

Shinichi wanted to throttle him.

Because of that hack of a magician, he'd get caught. Because of him, Ran would get in trouble with him. The two of them had been running nonstop and even if they had the layout of the mansion memorized, it wouldn't help with guards standing at every single entrance and exit- which is what they had been doing the moment Shinichi triggered their alarm.

The panic and just straight anxiety that he felt in that moment, could not be paralleled to anything else in his life. He knew they were running out of options. Usually he was the one with all the plans but he couldn't even gather his thoughts to try to formulate one. All he could think was how much of a sad excuse for a thief, a detective, and a friend he was-

No. If there was one thing he would do, it was to save Ran. He got Ran involved in this and he would not allow her to go down with him. Already he had given up on finding escape. Now all he was trying to do was deduce just how he was going to explain Ran's side of things. He'd force her to pose as his hostage if he had to. He would not allow her to be ruined from this-

Abruptly his thoughts caught off when Ran very suddenly gripped his fingers tightly. When he glanced over in her direction, he found she was already looking at him. They were both running as fast as they could trying to put more and more distance between them and the heavy footfalls coming from behind them. Unlike him however, she did not appear scared or stressed. In fact, while he was internally having a meltdown, Ran shot him a quick but soft smile.

And suddenly she was pushing ahead of him; her fingers still clenching his tightly as she tugged him behind her.

She was taking them further in though, he noticed incredulously. In fact she was taking them towards the rooms. Shinichi had to stare into the back of her head, as if wondering if she'd lost her mind. There was no exit to the outside this far in. Nothing but windows which they already realized was not going to be an option. There would be officers outside each window waiting for them. They would not be able to get far.

Just when he had been about to reprimand her himself, he found himself being tugged to the side again. Ran's goal hadn't been the window. She had pulled him into one of the numerous bedrooms that lined the hall. Which he guessed would be nice for shock value but again, he found himself wanting to question her. Sure hiding in a room would be unexpected at first but he highly doubted they would fail to check these rooms. All it would do is buy them some time before they were eventually captured. And a simple search would prove that he was in possession of the pearl that was currently missing.

They had put quite a bit of distance between them and the task force that was chasing them. They would have a few minutes at most. And he knew exactly what he was going to do with those few minutes.

"Ran, what the hell?" he spun on her only for his eyes to grow bigger even more. He had turned to find her turning on the table lamp and he really thought she had lost it. They were trying to hide. They should be turning lights out, he wanted to yell as he watched her come back over to him. Anything he was meaning to say was gone when she was suddenly pulling him again and he only watched in confusion as she seemed to position him just in front of the table she had walked to.

His eyes bulged when she grabbed one of his hands and placed it around her ribs. And when she placed the other very firmly onto her rear, he turned into a sputtering mess.

"R-Ran . . . " The way he said her name this time was unlike before. It was smaller he knew but it was definitely nervous as well. By this point he was less concerned about the police chasing them than he was about his partner's behavior. He had given up on talking when suddenly she was pressing her palm flat against his chest. He followed the movement with his eyes until her other hand caressed his cheek forcing him to look directly at her.

She wasn't saying anything. And even if he wanted to, she didn't give him enough time to try. Palm on his chest scrunching into a fist, all he could do was gasp when suddenly he was tugged down into a kiss.

He froze. His eyes had bulged even more he was sure and he felt his features flood red- redder than they had been. It was hard for him to comprehend what exactly was happening right now. Ran hadn't given him a chance to process anything and the moment her lips touched his, his mind went blank. He was pretty sure he wasn't even breathing at this point.

She must've felt how frozen he was because suddenly she was pushing forward more, her mouth pressing insistently against his own. As if yelling at him to do something. And that was all he needed.

Taking notice that her eyes were shut, he did the same before he leaned into her willingly. His hand that she had pressed against her rear- that he had left there mostly out of shock, grabbed her and pressed her against him more firmly. The movement made her gasp and going off her response, his other hand rose to bury itself in her hair where he angled her face to fit more comfortably against his.

The kiss was slow but it didn't mean it was any less sensuous. Tongues were brushing against each other, their breath intermingling as it panted against the other's lips. Shinichi wasn't sure exactly why Ran felt the need to kiss him now, but as far as first kisses could go- he wasn't complaining. Was a reason really necessary?

No. He didn't think so.

Was he going to ask her why she was suddenly tugging his shirt from where it was neatly tucked into his pants?

Maybe later- definitely not now though. He didn't question it. He didn't question hearing what sounded like a door opening before being slammed shut. He didn't want to. If Ran wasn't, then why should he? All he knew in that moment was that something that he had been waiting for- something he had been wanting, was finally happening and he wasn't going to waste his time trying to get an explanation of why.

But even without wasting his time, it still wasn't enough. All too soon he felt Ran begin to pull away. Her hands released their tight grip on his shirt and hair and came to rest smoothly against his chest. Shinichi felt the retreat. She was moving away from him. And the realization made him panic.

No. He felt his mind shout. That wasn't enough. It's not enough.

Surging forward, just after their lips had completely separated, he found them slamming against hers once more. This time because of him. And when she gasped into his mouth he just couldn't help himself. Arms gripping her firmly, he turned to the side forcing her into the wall just beside the shelf she had him pressed against. His fingers had never left her hair and instead his fingers buried deeper into the long strands. If the grip was painful, Ran didn't say. If anything, it sounded like she liked it with the way she released a moan into his mouth.

Shinichi had her pressed into the wall, the hand that wasn't angling her face closer to his, gripping the bare skin of her thigh. In the moment, he didn't care to process or wonder just how his hand got through the slit of her dress. All he wanted to do was just get closer and closer and as close as he could get, he concluded as he forced her leg to stay raised against his hip. When it got to the point they needed a second to just breathe, he had his lips slanting across the smooth skin of her neck. From this position he could feel her panting heavily against his ear. He could feel her desperately trying to draw in air to her lungs. He also felt when she stiffened.

When he had practically picked her up, forcing her into the wall, Ran's hands had both slid to the front of his shirt. When she gripped the lapels of his suit coat she had used force to tug his mouth closer to her neck. Suddenly however, he felt that grip slacken.

"I t-think. . . I think they're gone now. . "

That was like a wake up call.

His own common sense kicking in, he remembered where they were. What they were doing. Who was chasing them. Gently, he released his hold of her thigh and set her to rest on her own feet. Taking a glance at her he noticed she was redder than he was.

"I-I'm sorry. I knew they would find us either way so I-I . . improvised. . . "

Improvised?

Improvised.

Still sort of stuck in some dazed haze, it took him longer than it should to understand what exactly she meant.

Improvised, he repeated again in his thoughts.

That was what she kissed him for? Shinichi could remember discreetly at some point the door opening and then slamming shut shortly after. At the time he hadn't really cared that much to question it. He had been way too focused and interested in something else.

Something else that she 'improvised'.

The bitter thought left the same taste is his mouth.

Frowning, and face turning a darker shade, he took a step back.

"Right . . . " he agreed swallowing hard.

Of course they couldn't stay there any longer than they already had. There was always the possibility that the police would realize their mistake and return. If they were smart, they shouldn't be here for if or when that happens. There was no time to just stand there awkwardly. Though that was what he proceeded to do.

The reminder she gave for why they had hid in this room in the first place, did nothing for him. He should've been like her; scrambling to fix their appearance to look somewhat normal. But he couldn't be bothered. Shinichi watched as she hurriedly straightened her dress and finally, began the process of cleaning himself up. His motions were slow and sluggish however compared to her quick and hastened ones. It was only after a few moments of him pulling his tie forward that he realized his shirt was untucked.

"Does my hair look okay?"

All at once he was distracted. Again. Pausing with his shirt, and glancing back at her. Did her hair look okay?

"Yes."

Belatedly he realized what she actually meant. Was her hair fixed? Did she look normal? And still looking at the hair that he knew she had styled meticulously beforehand, it was tangled and frizzed. The long strands were very obviously out of place.

He startled a little when suddenly Ran was just before him, brushing her fingers through his hair. He was taller than her so she was on her toes, stretching to reach his height. He acknowledged that but seemed to struggle to realize maybe he should lean down to make it easier for her. The thought didn't occur to him. Not at first anyway. Once the thought hit that maybe she was trying to kiss him again, he found himself bending down. Her face was close to his again and he caught the scent of whatever it was she was wearing.

The sudden movement clearly caught her off guard and his eyes that had apparently been focused on her mouth watched as she didn't pull away, but instead rested flat on her feet again. Her hands were still in his hear however and he had to take a moment to wonder if she was going to use that to grab him again.

"Shinichi! What are you doing?" she practically hissed the question; her movements still hurried. "You look like a mess. Hurry up!"

And with a blushing face he realized that no, she wasn't trying to kiss him again. She was trying to fix his hair because it looked ridiculous. And he was just standing there, taking his time. Like an idiot.

Hearing noises in the distance however, they had run out of time. Immediately whatever stupor he had been in, broke and not willing to use anymore time, they bolted.

Shinichi was sure they looked like quite the pair. There was no way people would look at them and think they hadn't done something. He guessed that meant the plan worked but it didn't make it any less humiliating having to push through snickering guests that 'just knew what they'd been up to'.

They hadn't been up to anything however. Just 'improvising'.

And all he had said in response was, 'right'.

Shinichi hated how that one word was all he said. It gave the impression that they were on the same page. And if that was all that kiss was to her, then clearly they weren't. In the moment he hadn't the brain to make the connection between her actions and the situation they had been stuck in.

He wasn't surprised he didn't get her intentions to begin with. Unlike her, it never crossed his mind to use that as a . . disguise? And the fact that they didn't think exactly alike is what saved them.

But he was still mad.

It was laughable and dramatic and infuriating. Because he couldn't do or say anything in response and he knew it. How could he be angry? How could he complain if her plan actually worked? Yeah, sure his pride was hurt and he was a little embarrassed when he realized they were not on the same page. But he could admit, hurt feelings were easier to deal with than jail time.

It didn't mean he couldn't feel the sting still.

Shinichi knew why it hurt so much. He knew the real reason. Because for once he actually believed that Ran saw him as he saw her. Not just best friends or partners in crime but maybe something . . . more.

They had met years prior in a shared class on psychology. And he didn't want to say it was love at first sight but- it was definitely a lasting first impression.

He knew from early on that he held interest there. An interest that was built upon by the constant joint study sessions and realization that they also held numerous moral similarities. They were just pursuing them in different ways. She wanted to be a lawyer and he wanted to be a detective. Quite often he'd make the joke that they'd be an unstoppable pair in law enforcement; jokes that deep down held a hint of seriousness that, at the time, he hoped she didn't notice.

The truth was much harder to swallow. It had come like a bucket of ice, cold water dumped over his head. It felt like a slap to his face. A stone, hard slap of reality. His subtly backfired or rather- his lack of action did. Because again, how could he be mad when he never made his desires known?

He was a real coward. He never could bring himself to confess no matter how often the thought occurred to him. The excuse being- Ran had never gave any indication that she felt the same. Shinichi didn't want to ruin the strong bond they already had; their friendship that they had built on for years. It just wasn't worth the risk when he couldn't be confident in her answer nor her reaction.

But then she kissed him. His whole mind had shut down. And when they separated, possibilities flooded him. He could confess or was a confession really necessary at this point? Ran liked him. Ran wanted him.

That's what he first thought. So he responded. He had kissed her back. And if that already wasn't an obvious display of his feelings, he had acted like a totally catatonic fool directly afterwards.

Once they knew they were in the clear, Ran had become oddly silent. And distanced. She wouldn't meet his gaze and her cheeks were still a suspicious amount of pink. She seemed extremely fidgety to be beside him and the moment they said their goodbyes for the night, she had bolted.

Shinichi didn't know what he had been expecting exactly. An apology? Maybe even a confrontation over his obvious infatuation with her? But she had said nothing. And she had fled like the police were still chasing them.

Maybe what made it worse was that he couldn't be sure if it was because she had kissed him or, that she realized how he saw her and she panicked. Neither meant well for him. Both gave the impression that kissing him made her uncomfortable.

Shinichi wanted to punch something.

And his shirt still needed to be tucked in.

He got more than halfway of doing that before he remembered he was already home and began asking himself why exactly he was fixing it now. He had no need to do it now and grumbling irritatedly to himself, he instead began taking it off.

They didn't take on another job for almost an entire month after that. Waiting in between gigs wasn't unusual but not planning the next however, was. Normally by this point, he'd already be casing their next event. By this time he would've already consulted Ran.

He had done neither.

Instead, he went to school as normal and also continued helping Inspector Meguire when prompted. Nothing appeared different except the absence of their little side cases.

And that Ran was avoiding him.

It wouldn't of been as bad if it wasn't for their friends noticing that something was off. It also didn't help that even the media was pointing out the unusually long hiatus for the Night Baron.

"So about this . . . thing . . that's not really a thing with Mouri-san. . . Do you wanna talk about it?"

And there was his other issue. Shinichi had long given up trying to explain to Nakamichi that absolutely nothing romantic was going on between him and Ran. Now, after their earlier predicament, it became even more difficult to deny. His friend was convinced that the two were simply trying to keep it under wraps. That for some reason they didn't want anybody to know they were seeing each other. Nakamichi had already switched to asking why exactly Mouri-san wanted to hide things because he was confident the two were already together and that there was no way Shinichi would be the one wanting to hide it.

Grudgingly, Shinichi wasn't sure if he should be insulted by that last comment. Deeming that Nakamichi was correct and there was absolutely no way he'd want to hide the fact they were dating, Shinichi decided to keep his mouth shut. If they were dating, he wouldn't want to hide it. If they were dating, he'd walk home with her instead of his dork of a friend. If they were dating, he wouldn't have to explain why she suddenly decided to drink from his drink at a group study session. If they were dating, it would've been his idea to kiss the life out of her while running from the police. If they were dating-

Hand flying to his head, he could feel the strands of his hair getting scrunched between his fingers. And just as quickly as the tangent had started in his head, it stopped. As if the only thing keeping it all together was his hand against his head.

What was he thinking? He mentally hissed at himself as his teeth clenched. Entertaining Nakamichi's story. He was spiraling in his own thoughts and elaborating an idea that had not, and by the looks of it, would not be happening. Ran and him hadn't even spoken properly to each other since the last job. If they did, it was curt, in passing, or in the presence of someone else. Meaning it was a guarantee they could not discuss anything that had happened- her actions nor his seemingly obvious to him confession. Which all he could do was assume that was her intention.

He wanted to pull his hair from his scalp, it was so frustrating. Was he supposed to take this as a rejection? Was he not worth the time to say she wasn't interested directly to his face? Or did she think he would not accept her refusal? Did she think that low of him? He wouldn't lie- he liked her a lot. The rejection would hurt but they could at least be friends still. She didn't need to run from him as if he had the plague. Shinichi swore he could see the panic in her face anytime she happened to stumble upon him unexpectedly.

The space that stretched between them seemed to be widening. And worried the gap would become much too big to mend, Shinichi did the only thing he could do.

He found them another job.

At first, his intentions had been different. He had wanted to use this as a way to get her to talk to him; to address what exactly happened between them almost a month ago. If it was on a job, that was a guarantee they would have a moment alone. But at the realization of how that would probably make Ran feel- he paused. He would be cornering her. And that realization made him wince internally.

Shinichi didn't want Ran to feel trapped. He didn't want her to feel like she couldn't talk to him anymore just because she didn't want him the same way. They could be friends still. He wanted that more than anything. The rest, he could learn to deal with. He was well aware more than anybody about how kind Ran was. Her silence was most likely her way of sparing his feelings and easing her guilt about not returning his affections. She didn't need to feel guilt though. She wasn't obligated to feel any certain type of way. Ran didn't owe him anything regardless of how much he wanted it.

If he had considered it, he knew Ran must've come to the same conclusion- that he was trying to force her to talk. It would likely explain why she took her time responding to his invitation of working again. Her response had come in the middle of the night when he must've been dead asleep. Shinichi had only noticed the text message after turning his alarm off that morning.

Shinichi hated to think it, but Ran's presence- in a roundabout way- likely did more harm than good for his well being. He had already gotten a little risker the more jobs he took on. He acted rash and with no regard for his own safety after a certain point. Once Ran's presence in the form of an accomplice was assured, the possibilities became endless. And so did the risk. If Ran hadn't been there backing him, he surely would've been done for numerous times. He knew that. But that was also why he even attempted those risks.

Having their first real interaction since their last job being another mission, was a mistake. Not addressing what had happened between them before starting this, was a mistake. He acknowledged that when Ran still wouldn't even look at him directly. She definitely made sure to keep her distance as well.

Shinichi had already decided before meeting up that he would not be mentioning 'that job'. It wouldn't be right and it wouldn't be fair of him to try that. Clearly however, Ran hadn't grasped that yet. Any moment he would be about to start talking, she would tense. As if preparing herself for the inevitable.

That meant she knew this could've been a perfect moment for him to question her. She knew that, yet she came anyway. Not even the possible awkward conversation of unrequited feelings would she leave him to fend for himself. She had started joining him on these jobs to defend him in the first place. Whether she didn't want him the same or not, it was still nice to know that at least that wouldn't change.

He just wished that she would relax. There was no way for him to tell her he wouldn't talk about it without actually bringing it up. By the time she might've understood that, they had already put their 'plan' into motion. If it could even be called that. How could they plan when neither could even look the other in the face let alone have a conversation?

This whole night was a bad idea. Shinichi had the feeling throughout the night and as things progressed, it only got worse. Why would he even think this was a good idea? Any person with half a brain would've just dodged the bullet and asked to have the conversation. He had already come to terms in his head that clearly she didn't want him that way. He knew that. Her avoidance spoke louder than anything she could ever tell him. Yet he also knew, hearing it aloud and in the open provided a confirmation her silence didn't give.

Shinichi needed to hear it; aloud. Regardless if deep down he already knew. He needed it. If anything for his piece of mind and for closure. He had pined for her for a long time. Moving on would not be easy. It would take time. But the process wouldn't begin until she gave her refusal outright.

Having all of this sit on him, literally weighing down on his mind, just before a job was dumb. Her presence was only making it more difficult as was her refusal to even properly acknowledge him. He wasn't doing much better, he'd admit. But he had tried to bridge that gap and Ran wasn't reaching from her end.

How Ran felt was everything to him. Shinichi didn't want his presence to be uncomfortable for her. He was doing everything- even down to the plan- to show it was okay. She didn't have to feel the same way. It was fine. He would be fine.

Where as normally they would walk in as a couple when it came to balls and galas, he decided they could work this one a little more separately. Shinichi was doing everything he could possibly think of, to show her that he didn't want to make her uncomfortable. And after the revelation a month ago, pretending to be his wife would surely do that.

Ran only got more tense. And that only made him more nervous. Neither a good sign when communication and teamwork was the most important aspect to be able to successfully carry out these jobs. That should've been the biggest indicator that once again, this was a bad idea.

He messed up. He knew that. Even in the moment when he forcibly shoved that guy away from her, he knew he was the one at fault. There was no reason for his actions. No logical one anyway. The only thing that powered him in the moment was jealousy. It fueled and burned through him stronger than anything he could remember. Nothing had ever cut off his thought process so quickly. Not even the time Ran kissed him.

But this was not what he'd been expecting when Ran said she would 'make an opening for him'. The sensation that sunk deep into the pit of his stomach was similar to being sick. That was the feeling he got when watching Ran disappear into a hallway with the 'owner' of this gem.

He didn't trust it. Not the look in the guy's eye nor the impatient tug he seemed to give Ran. Shinichi didn't trust any of it. And no, it had nothing to do with his jealousy. It was for Ran's safety that he followed them; that instead of going the clear way his partner indicated, that he trailed behind the two out of sight.

Nothing to do with his personal emotions at all.

Peeking around the corner to find his partner pushed against a door about to be kissed however was, again, nothing he had been expecting. Yet the reaction was instantaneous.

This anger he felt was different. This was a different kind of rage that reared its head forward. A nasty emotion he had never experienced so strongly. With a mixture of fury, possessiveness, and just about anything in-between, before his brain could even catch up and actually think- he was already across the hall and shoving the man roughly.

Ran seemed as surprised as the guy. Her eyes had bulged when suddenly the arms that had been bracing her weight disappeared. She stumbled in her satin dress but Shinichi was too furious to help her straighten. His attention was too focused on the creep that was still on the floor, mostly in shock. Shinichi had pushed him hard. Probably too hard if it was able to knock the guy off his feet but in the moment, he could care less. There was nothing that could be said to him then that would make him believe this guy didn't deserve it. He had been touching Ran. That was enough for him.

After finally realizing what just happened, the guy's eyes shot up to look at him angrily. Shinichi wasn't sure exactly what made the guy do it. He honestly thought he just initiated a fist brawl. But likely taking one look at the simple fury on his face, the guy stood up while wiping the blood off his bottom lip; the anger gone from his eyes and instead a smirk that was anything but happy. With a promise to get security for the both of them, the guy exited the hall from where they had come.

They couldn't let him go; not if they wanted their plan to succeed. Both of them had to know that. But neither of them did a thing till he was long out of sight.

It was Ran that reacted first. It was his turn to be shoved as she pushed her hands against his chest angrily.

"What are you doing?" She questioned him furiously. And from that alone he realized the shove was more out of panicked frustration than any real anger.

Shinichi was fine with that. He was sure he had enough anger for the both of them.

"No- what are you doing?" His voice was incredulous just like his face.

"I thought my job. You said to get close to him. You told me to make sure he was distracted."

"I didn't mean like that."

Ran sighed as if she were exhausted. "Well what did you mean, Shinichi?"

"I-I don't know- just anything except making out with him," he snapped and in his frustration he couldn't help but stutter.

"Why are you getting so upset?"

It was clear to him then before she even spoke that Ran understood he was mad. He knew that when her eyes softened towards him. But from her question, she clearly couldn't understand why he was mad. And if possible that was making him angrier. Because from his last sentence alone, it should be obvious why he was upset. If they took away everything that had happened between them a month ago, with his words alone that he spoke tonight, her answer was still right in front of her. He wasn't understanding why she just wasn't getting it.

"Y-you can't do something like that!"

"And why can't I? I swear you don't make any sense to me, Shinichi. I was only doing what I thought you wanted."

She was only trying to make his job easier for him. And if he weren't so heated he'd recognize that what she had been trying to do really would've made the job easier. That disgusting lowlife would've been so distracted. But to achieve that in that way was unacceptable to him.

"Why would I want you to kiss him?"

"Why would you not?" she countered.

His eyes blazed. "Are you actually serious?" he asked incredulously.

"You're mad." The way she stated it- it wasn't a question. It was a fact. And he was mad. He was so furious it was almost insane how personally he had taken this. Because this wasn't acting for him. It had never been. He never had to pretend to feel more for her. This was something he wanted. Not just on jobs but all the time. Him and Ran together. Him and Ran being a couple.

And he knew he had no right to be so upset. She never gave any indication that this would happen outside of their side jobs. He was the one that was turning it into something it wasn't meant to be- a reality. But she could at least do him the courtesy of not acting clueless. He had clearly kissed her that night without any other intention except that he simply wanted to. She knew that. She wouldn't of avoided him in their regular daily lives if that weren't the case.

He needed to step back. It was too soon to come back to this when clearly he wasn't over it. There wouldn't be another job until he could get over his feelings for her. And if that never happened, so be it. He was done with this conversation.

Shaking his head, Shinichi went to walk away. "Forget it."

Ran being quicker than him however, shot forward and gripped his arm. "How am I supposed to 'forget it'? You're obviously angry. Just tell me why." And for the first time in this conversation, he saw that she was actually beginning to get mad.

He had already decided what he would do though and instead he just shook his head again. "If you don't get it on your own, then it doesn't matter," he responded calmly.

Ran obviously rejected that idea.

"It matters to me! I played my part in your plan. I was going to do something I didn't even want to do-"

He wanted to argue that he never forced her to join him as the Night Baron. But it didn't matter now because this would be the last time.

"-so you could grab a stupid rock-"

That rock could sell for over 500,000 yen, he wanted to say but instead he remained stoic.

"-and you just storm in here like a jealous boyfriend-"

He was jealous. But he wasn't going to engage in this any further.

"-which we're not together-"

They're not. He knew that. He would work on it.

"-which you made that perfectly clear in your plan-"

He knew they weren't together. That's why he switched up their usual plan-

...

"What?!"

Shinichi was actually stunned into silence. There wasn't a lot that could do that for him either. But to bring up the plan that he made specifically to make her comfortable and complain about it, had him even more aggravated. She seemed like she wanted to continue but he wasn't about to allow that to slide.

"What is that supposed to mean?" he finally cut her off, not even paying attention to what she was currently saying. His earlier idea to just let this whole thing go, vanished as quickly as it had come.

Probably thinking she said too much, her tone got quiet and her face went pink.

Regardless of her obvious embarrassment however, she didn't try to take back what she said. "There's other ways to say you're not interested besides pushing me to the side for some side act. You could've told me how you felt. I wouldn't of left you to do this alone," she said with that hint of frustration still there.

But Shinichi was still stuck. Because now nothing was making sense to him. After all this time and he thought he finally figured out why Ran was avoiding him before, what she was saying now completely contradicted all of that.

"What the hell are you talking about?" he flat out asked.

A frown marred her features. "You know what we usually do as these kinds of parties. You know what . . acts work better here. And you changed that on purpose," she accused.

"You avoided me!" was the only thing he could bring himself to say.

"Only because I didn't know what to do!" she raised her voice with a completely flustered face now.

"How about talking to me-"

"Woah, woah, woah!" Immediately their shouting was cut off; both of them jerking in shock before going on the defensive. They were still on a job after all. But once they saw just who it was that had the audacity to interrupt their argument, they both froze with widened eyes and slackened jaws.

Kaito Kid didn't seem to care if he was intruding or not. For some reason, he looked frustrated as he stormed out behind a pillar.

"Are you two actually kidding me?" And the other pair watched as he came closer without a care.

"Some of us are actually trying to work. I've literally been sitting alone in that room waiting and neither of you came to do anything. I could've bailed an hour ago while you guys were griping during a heist. Not to mention the guy I had to knock unconscious on my way over here," he jabbed a thumb behind him and lo and behold the guy he had shoved to the ground was currently leaning unconscious against the far wall. But the Phantom Thief didn't seem to be through.

"Which- how has this not been resolved yet?"

Shinichi and Ran both flushed scarlet and taking that as his answer, Kid threw his hands up in frustration.

"I swear there has been absolutely no progression between the two of you since the first time I saw you. Do you have any idea how obnoxious that is for a bystander?"

"She avoided you because she kissed you and actually liked it," he pointed a finger at Ran who flushed brighter at his words before turning it to Shinichi next who went pale, "and he changed the plan because he thought you avoiding him meant you didn't like it!"

"Do you see how easy that was? Is there anything that you two do not understand?"

At their mutual silence, Kaitou Kid shook his head aggravatedly before spinning around, his cape billowing out behind him. "And you guys are my rivals?" he grumbled bitterly under his breath. "You guys better have this sorted out before next time."

Even long after Kid left, the two remained standing there completely frozen. They both were staring at where the thief had made his exit but neither seemed to want to break the silence first. Neither wanted to be the first to confirm or deny the accusations thrown at them.

Instead, realizing that they were still very much in the open with an unconscious body and that this job was definitely ruined, Shinichi turned a glance towards Ran. Unsurprisingly she was avoiding looking at him again and her face was still insanely red. But his was too and if it were for the same reason. . . then they had a lot to discuss.

"Do-" he started before cutting himself off. He wasn't sure if now was the right time when they were standing in the hall of one of their heists after having a shouting match. But when her eyes flit up to his quickly at the sound of his voice and saw they looked hopeful, he didn't care.

"Do you want to get something to eat. . . with me?" And then he cleared his throat realizing how informal that sounded and that he better be clear because obviously she didn't go off hints.

"Would like you to go out to dinner with me?"

Her face still impossibly red, she bit her lip before nodding slowly. "I'd like that."

oOo

Months later, Shinichi found himself at another gala. It was the usual type of party he hated attending but he'd have to admit as his eyes followed one figure across the room, this one wasn't too bad.

Until it got closer and certain features became clearer and he realized this was actually the worst one yet.

"Ah, Shin-chan, did you see they have a chocolate fountain?" she beamed excitedly before reaching for him.

Immediately he side stepped the arm that went to link with his own making 'Ran' pout at him. Shinichi didn't care until he noticed the confused stare from across him. He had stated this was his fiancé after all and froze when he caught their puzzled looks.

This time, when she went to link her arm with his, grudgingly, he allowed it. No matter if he was cringing so badly inside, his teeth gnashing together irately. "Yes. I saw," he bit out. And barely getting the whole statement out, his champagne flute he held was snatched from his other hand that wasn't currently wrapped around 'Ran'.

Shinichi had to grit his teeth as he watched her swallow practically the whole thing in one gulp. With a cheeky grin he was sure was meant to seem mockingly innocent considering the actual Ran had done this numerous times before, she held the glass out to him with the one measly sip that was left in it as an offering.

"Keep it," he bit out still trying to keep his cool. There were people still watching them after all. And shrugging she downed the rest of it.

Probably noticing the peculiar tension between the two, it was quite easy to dismiss themselves. And as soon as they were somewhere deemed a little private, Shinichi turned angrily.

"Where is she?"

And mocking him further, violet eyes widened comically as brows scrunched in faux confusion. "Where is who?"

The voice was exact. Purely feminine and a complete copy.

But it wasn't real. It was fake and he could tell.

Or rather he noticed the obvious struggle for Kid to keep his knees bent. It was quite embarrassing and even more infuriating to notice that his girlfriend whom he had been trying to ogle had in fact not actually been his girlfriend. But in actuality a hack of a magician doing his best to maintain the height and appearance of a young woman.

More mortified that he believed for a moment this was his girlfriend enough to ogle her, Shinichi had no patience. Fully irritated now, he gripped Kid's arm furiously while snapping in a harsh whisper, "Where is Ran?" The grip only loosened when he realized they were still technically in the open and he forced a small grin at anybody that looked their way.

"Calm down," the still female voice tried to wave him off. "We had a small issue so we had to do a little switch."

Doing his best to ignore that this wasn't actually Ran though it was her voice, Shinichi prodded further. "What do you mean a 'small issue'? What happened?"

"Well something didn't exactly go according to plan and since we both agree your girlfriend has monster strength, I decided as a last resort we can rely on that," the imposter smiled happily.

He was so proud of himself.

Not really sure if he wants to know what that means, Shinichi began heading towards the hall where he knew Ran would be then. "And you just left her there alone."

"What?" Kid pouted. "You don't have confidence in me, Shinichi?" They were in the hall now and Kid was trailing behind him still in that irritating disguise. He had given up on trying to maintain a shortened height and was walking normally, but out of all the things Shinichi could pick apart about the disguise, it was something else that disturbed him more.

"Do not do that," he spun around angrily. It was one thing to call him 'Shin-chan'. Ran would never call him that except for that single time before. But to speak to him how she actually does- it was starting to freak him out.

Kid frowned for real this time. "Don't do what?"

"Stop sounding like her!" He snapped uncomfortably.

Seeming to finally understand, Kid shrugged before saying in his own voice, "Fine."

But that was just as bad. Hearing that voice with Ran's face.

"Never mind- that's worse," Shinichi sighed heavily and fingers went to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Just stop talking."

This was the first and only time they'd ever team up again. Shinichi couldn't believe they managed to talk him into it in the first place. They had been right. There was no point in the two thieves fighting over who stole the ring first when it was clear the goal was the same. Not like last time when the two men both stumbled into a treasure's room two weeks ago wanting to steal the same thing. And after they managed to almost both get caught last time due to them arguing, Ran had been the one to present this idea.

But Shinichi couldn't get over what the dunce had accused him of. 'Stealing his thunder'- as if they were competing to be the most wanted criminal in the fraud department. He wasn't trying to steal anything. As far as he was concerned, Kid could carry all media attention he wanted. Shinichi would never try to take that. But he couldn't help it if fans of theirs constantly argued over who the best thief actually was.

And yes, amazingly that was a thing.

Shinichi resented that though. He was no thief. And after watching him a little more closely, Shinichi realized that just maybe . . . Kid wasn't either.

Neither one wanted the treasure for themselves. Besides Kid's weird rule that he needed to 'look' at the gem before they decided anything. It was clear the Phantom Thief was looking for a treasure and once he found it, he wouldn't be giving it back. Shinichi wondered if that was likely the reasoning for what Kaito Kid was doing in the first place. He had never thought much of the guy. He had always just assumed that he was some mindless criminal that flaunted and attempted to disguise what he was- a criminal- behind obnoxious magic acts. Because that's all they were. Even if sometimes it took a bit to realize how the thief had done it, he always figured it out. There was always an explanation. And that's why Shinichi didn't understand nor did he care to learn just why Kid paraded around like a magician.

But now working with him, it annoyed him, but his curious mind made it easy for him to at least attempt to analyze his behavior.

Kid was doing this for a reason. A reason other than crime at least. He was positive Kid would never try to actually kill or harm a cop or bystander. He always took the treasure and bailed. And every single time, he would read the next day that the treasure had magically been 'returned' to the rightful owner.

Kaito Kid never held onto a single gem he stole. Not a single time.

It was difficult for him to admit, but Ran was right. The two were very similar. Even if they carried it out differently or if their way of doings things were the opposite of the others, their outcome was always the same. Shinichi wasn't foolish enough to believe they had the same goal; that they did this for the same reason. It was clear that Kid was looking for something and once he found it, he would not be returning it. But though he would never say it aloud, the Magician was not a bad person. He always wanted to believe there was no good enough reason to break the law. There was nothing that warranted another person committing a crime. But if that were actually true- then what were he and Ran doing? He wanted to believe they were doing the right thing. And so grudgingly, he accepted that about the Phantom Thief.

Things were very rarely black and white.

oOo

"Who was your nice date?"

The soft voice called over to him gently from up ahead on the path. Recognition immediately pulled his attention away from his feet he had been watching dejectedly; his hands stuffed inside his suit pockets. The words that filtered in however had him perking up.

Supressing a grin he shrugged. "Just some girl I met in college psychology."

Ran blushed slightly but smiled all the same. It wasn't till he reached her that she began walking beside him. "She seemed to be dressed a bit risqué though, don't you think?"

Shinichi peeked over at her as she stayed beside him. She wasn't looking back but he could only assume she was wondering how he liked her dress.

Which he refused to judge after having only seen Kaito Kid wearing it.

Referring back to her question, he snorted. "Probably because the wrong person was in it."

He would've much rather seen the real Ran wearing it.

Finally breaking composure- stopping whatever roundabout way she was trying to ask, she stopped walking. "But it was a perfect copy!" she protested pouting and Shinichi had to wonder what exactly she was after here. He had a feeling he'd be in trouble no matter the answer he gave her.

But perfect? Perfect clone, his ass.

"There are just some things that can't be copied," he supplied simply even though in his mind, he knew exactly what parts of Ran couldn't be imitated.

Ran was not content with his response. If anything, she almost became suspicious as he leaned forward with narrowed eyes. "Like what?"

Realizing he might've steered this conversation somewhere he definitely didn't want, Shinichi swallowed hard when she raised a brow.

"What did he not copy?" she asked outright.

If she wants an honest explanation . . .

Sighing, he looked away, turning his nose up. "Your chest does not sit that high. Not only does he not have any, but your breasts are large. He most likely had to make them rest higher to disguise that. And though your thighs do have quite a bit of muscle, they are much softer than what he presented- not to mention he was actually walking around with his knees bent slightly to accommodate the height difference."

Ran didn't respond right away. Her silence dragged on and eventually he became nervous. He definitely confessed too much. Even if she was his girlfriend, surely it would make her uncomfortable to realize he watched her that intently. And on every little detail as well. But Shinichi couldn't help but to be insulted that she said Kid was an exact copy. That would never be possible. Ran could not be replicated. Especially when Shinichi could pick out so many things that the magician had gotten wrong in his disguise. Of course the detective knew there was only so much one could do in a disguise. But still, Shinichi was too much of a perfectionist and Ran was perfect in his eyes.

Suddenly his arm was being gripped gently and Shinichi blinked oddly when Ran slowly wrapped her arms around his. At first he thought she would be mad. He had openly admitted to ogling her. And if she asked him to be more honest, he would have to say he'd been watching her long before they started dating.

"Thank you," she said softly, startling him by breaking the silence and catching him off guard with her response. The confusion must've clearly been on his face because she turned red again. Her smile didn't drop though.

"It's nice to know that you could tell it wasn't me. . . that all you see if me."

They had begun walking again and Shinichi couldn't help but think he definitely dodged a bullet. But he would've been lying if he said anything else. And though it made him anxious to know that all his thoughts and feelings were out and on the table, he was sick of hiding them. Ran deserved to know exactly how he thought about her. She deserved to know just how much he noticed her and for how long he wanted to be with her.

And if he was rewarded for honestly. . .

"I guess that means you'll have to wear that dress again so I can actually give you an opinion on it," he said nonchalantly even though his gaze continued to rest ahead of him. He hoped it came out like a suggestion because he really hadn't gotten to see her in it. Currently she was wearing jeans and coat after having to give up the dress for Kid's impromptu disguise.

"Can't. I'm pretty sure Kid went home in it," Ran innocently said completely missing why he wanted her to wear it again and bursting his bubble in the process.

Deflating, he changed his mind. "He really is a thief," he grumbled.

Ran raised a brow. "And then what are you, Night Baron?"

"Alright," he said sternly while narrowing his eyes and she began giggling.

Clenching her arms much more firmly around his arm, he felt her chest press against it even more making him gulp. "Don't worry. I have something else I can wear just for you," she whispered.

#dcmk #shinran #fanfic #fanfiction #shinran fanfic #dcmk fanfic #shinichi kudo #ran mouri #maybe a little phantom thief #kaito kid #;)#og #my wrtitng

89 notes · View notes

iliveiloveiwrite · 4 years

Text

Leannan // O.W. (celebration fic)

Request: Congratulations hun! Seriously, slow down xD No, please don't :D so I would like to have Oliver Wood - duh xD, Hogwarts, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff 4. - “Is that my shirt?” (You just captured my Scot baby so well, I couldn't miss it!) Congrats again, hun, take all the time you need! <3 - @heloisedaphnebrightmore

Fluff 4: “Is that my shirt?”

A/N: Coming from the queen of Oliver fics, this means so much! Thank you! For those that don’t know, Leannan is Scottish Gaelic for ‘sweetheart’. I don’t know whether this reads as enemies to lovers but there is a lot of teasing, however, I’m happy to rewrite if you want it! As always, I hope you enjoy and thank you all so much for 1.5k!!

Pairing: Oliver Wood x Fem!Reader

Warnings: swearing, teasing

Word count: 1.7k

Truthfully, you considered yourself to be a very calm and mature person. There was very little that could rile you into a frenzy, and if it did, you almost always dealt with the problem by finding a solution as quickly as possible.

But you were absolutely certain there was no solution for Oliver Wood.

Since joining the Gryffindor Quidditch Team in your Third Year, he had made it his mission to get on your nerves every practice and every match, or whenever he had a spare moment. The teasing started off innocently enough; but then it evolved into something more and now you both felt at a stalemate.

There was no ill will between you; just teenage stubbornness tied with mutual attraction that neither of you were willing to admit. He liked to challenge you; becoming your rival in so many forms whether it was on the pitch where he would challenge you to races, or in the classroom room where he would test your patience through essay grades.

In so many forms, you could class him as your enemy for the pure fact that he drove you up the wall, but there was the rare occasion where you would catch him watching you across a classroom or the common room, and you had to wonder whether he felt something more.

---------

Sighing to yourself in the changing room, you unzip your bag, pulling out your uniform and setting it on the bench. The day had already started out bad; running late to first lesson after having spilt orange juice down your blouse and then forgetting to submit an essay for your third lesson of the day had your mood lower than it had been all week.

Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath as you begin to get ready for practice. Silently praying that it would be an easy one.

“Leannan,” A known voice sings, “Practice starts in ten.”

Turning, you fix Oliver with an unimpressed look, “I am not your sweetheart, Wood.”

He smirks, leaning against the doorframe, “How did you know I was calling you a sweetheart?”

You pause; wondering how the hell you were going to explain this one. Absolutely refusing to explain that you had spent one evening in the library, scouring through a Scottish Gaelic dictionary until you came across the word. You absolutely refuse to acknowledge how heated your skin felt one you read the translation; how seeing it sent a thrill through you.

“What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?”

You roll your eyes, “Shove off, Wood. I need to get ready for practice.”

Oliver holds his hand up in surrender, laughing, “I’m going, I’m going.”

You throw a piece of clothing at him, “Go faster.”

“Alright woman, no need to resort to bodily harm.”

“Wood, I asked you to leave and you’re still here. Either you love to annoy me this much or you so desperately want to see me naked, now which is it?”

Oliver splutters at your words; his face a picture as a bright blush creeps his neck, “I’ll see you on the pitch.”

You stifle your laugh as Oliver walks into the doorframe before leaving the girl’s changing room. His slight embarrassment making your day that little bit better. You find yourself thinking of him as you get changed for practice; of his confidence that really does get the better of him sometimes, of his love of quidditch, of how he lights up when he delivers the pre-match speech that the team has memorised but that he will always deliver.

Shaking your head clear of all thoughts of the brown-eyed scot, you grab your broom and head out onto the pitch, joining the rest of the team. You ruffle young Harry’s hair as you walk past him; earning a playful glare in return.

“Have we quite finished?” Oliver admonishes; his gaze fixed on you.

“Yeah, have you quite finished?” Fred parrots.

You elbow him harshly; knocking the breath out of him, “Shut it, Weasley.”

Oliver claps his hands together; gaining the attention of the team. Setting up the plan of action for today’s practice, he blows his whistle – the command to saddle brooms and take off.

It feels as if it’s revenge for your comment in the changing room. Oliver nit-picks every move you take; taking it apart and demonstrating for the team the exact moment where you went wrong and why it should have been avoided. Oliver isn’t being outwardly malicious – he doesn’t have a malicious bone in his body; he’s just placing extra attention on you because of how you reacted in the changing room.

Oliver hadn’t admitted this to anyone; how attractive he found you, but how clueless he felt when it came to approaching you. He could tease you well enough; rile you up and get on your nerves, but he really did like you. You were his Leannan, no matter how much you seemed to despise the nickname.

Practice finishes with you landing back onto the pitch in one smooth motion; hopping off your broom and flipping Oliver off as he shouts for you to come back and talk. If you spoke to him now, you knew you would say something you would come to bitterly regret. Walking away, as you did now, meant that you could cool off and think through things rationally.

As you’re pulling your robes back on, an idea springs to mind. An idea that would definitely repay Oliver for how harsh he was during training.

Your mood brightening once again, a smirk breaks across your face as you hoist your Quidditch bag onto your shoulder and take hold of your broom; this would definitely be a fun prank – one that you couldn’t predict the outcome of, but it was one you also needed particular help with.

--------

At breakfast the following morning, you take a seat next to the Weasley twins, greeting each with a wide smile that only had them questioning your motives.

“Boys, I have an idea and I need your help.”

They both lean closer to you, “This wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain Quidditch captain would it?”

You bite your lip, “It might…”

Fred and George laugh, “What do you need us to do?”

----

Fred and George succeed that very night; pulling young Harry in on the scheme as well – getting him to distract Oliver with numerous questions about Quidditch whilst they snuck into Oliver’s room and stole his spare Quidditch jersey. He would never notice it missing; choosing to wear the same one for each match for luck.

They join you in the common room after having completed the deed; smuggling the jersey to you which you hide underneath the blanket you’re huddled under. Oliver frowns at the three of you; cutting him off on his education for Harry, he shouts over to you, “What would you three be planning?”

You widen your eyes, batting your lashes, “We would never do such a thing.”

Oliver frowns, “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

You place a hand on your heart, “The lack of faith you have in me is astounding, Wood.”

“Leannan, the three of you together can create enough mayhem to shut the school down.”

You grin at the use of his nickname for you, “Then lucky for you we aren’t planning anything,”

Oliver grumbles but says nothing further as he turns back to Harry; the boy looking as captivated as ever by Oliver’s explanations.

“What are you going to do with it?” George asks.

“Burn it? Tear it up? Dye it green?” Fred asks.

You shake your head at all his suggestions; feeling only slightly alarmed, “I’m going to wear it.”

Fred sits back with a huff, “I’d have dyed it green.”

You pat his leg consolingly, “Next time.”

-------

Your plan was to wear Oliver’s Quidditch jersey around Hogsmeade; starting with wearing it to breakfast in the Great Hall. You walk in proudly; winking back at Fred and George as you sit down next to them at the Gryffindor table.

If Oliver notices something, he doesn’t say – he glances your way once through all of breakfast then refuses to catch your eye after that.

You turn to the twins, “What are your plans for Hogsmeade? Room for one more?”

George nods, “We always have room for one more. We’re going to Zonko’s first and then we’ll see where the day takes us.”

You laugh, “That we shall. I’m going to grab some more money, but I’ll meet you in the courtyard?”

With a thumbs up from both of them, you leave the Great Hall, rushing back to the Gryffindor common room. Fred nudges George and points at Oliver who when noticing your absence, made sure to follow you from the room. They both roll their eyes, knowing full well you would not be meeting them in the courtyard.

-------

Returning to the common room after breakfast to grab some last minute money before meeting the twins, you’re pulled to one side by a frustrated looking Oliver.

Frustrated doesn’t seem to cover what Oliver feels at the sight of you in his shirt; he feels confirmation that you hold some feelings for him, but mostly feels desperation at how much he wants to get it off you.

“Is that my shirt?”

You look down at your clothing; your face the picture of innocence when you finally meet his brown eyes, “You know… I think it is.”

Oliver’s hands flex by his sides; an action he only does when he’s getting frustrated and can’t do anything about it, “Why are you wearing my shirt?”

You pull out the hem; reading his quidditch number out loud before saying, “I don’t know, I think it looks pretty good on me. Don’t you?”

Oliver leans in closer; just enough so he can whisper in your ear but far enough where he’s purposefully not touching you, “Leannan, what are you doing?”

You angle your body away from him, “I think you know what I’m doing.”

Oliver’s hands finally leave his side; fiddling with the hem of shirt that’s now draped over your body. With a smirk, he asks, “Just how set are you on going to Hogsmeade today?”

“Why? Got plans for me?”

He chuckles; hands fisting in his shirt, “Leannan, you have no idea.”

**********

General (HP) taglist: @chaotic-fae-queen @obsessedwithrandomthings @harrypotter289 @kalimagik @heloisedaphnebrightmore @nebulablakemurphy @the-hufflefluffwriter @figlia--della--luna @bforbroadway @idont-knowrn @summer-writes @big-galaxy-chaos @black-lake-confessions @annasofiaearlobe @imboredandneedalife @levylovegood @mytreec @haphazardhufflepuff @teheharrypotter @chaoticgirl04 @accio-rogers @msmimimerton @izzytheninja @slytherinprincess03 @nerdyatheletic-deactivated20200 @acciotwinz

729 notes · View notes

transsexualhamlet · 3 years

Text

asmr i psychoanalyze my favorite war criminal, aka calling out norman the essay

basically all of my thoughts on norman on one callout post because i care him (both manga and anime are discussed)

LINK TO RAY PSYCHOANALYSIS: https://chaoticgaymess.tumblr.com/post/646749875570196480/ray-81194-the-long-explanation

this is going to be ungodly long so here’s a keep reading, essay below the cut

((tw for suicidal ideation and self harm, brief discussion of eating disorders))

Disclaimer: no shipping is included here this is just about norman also they’re kids who call each other siblings

Thoughts: So you may be thinking, Rowan, why do you yell about the colorless war criminal so often? Well the answer lies in your honor the court hates to see a girlboss winning. Norman is a girlboss :) Yes norman is a tiny twink who can't lift a milk jug. And he is a girlboss :) Obviously I don't condone, um, eugenics and all, but that's not the point the point is that he satisfies my need for more characters like Levi motherfucking Calder from Unwind because I’m apparently an edgy 13 year old. Also all of his problems are violently things I can fix and I keep him around as a pet project because someone needs to give him a hug and slap him on the face

I diagnose him with things:

-pisces man :pensive:

-is he albino? Not literally. Is his skin so pale he would catch fire if he went outside at noon? Yes.

-autism: Yes I’m aware that calling him autistic makes him, problematic rep by perpetuating the autism unfeeling savant stereotype whatever but have you considered i’m autistic and I’m projecting also he’s L with standards? Anyway traits of AuTism he has: hyper fixation, canonically breaks and fixes things over and over because like ofc he does, doesn’t understand Emotion, hyperaware of body language at the same time as it all somehow flying over his head, low empathy, sensory experiences™, min maxed in certain areas, and I don’t think he’s got social interaction quite right? There’s something off about it

-gifted kid (derogatory) This is self explanatory but basically him being the smartest and the best in a competitive environment caused most of his issues, such as the perfectionism, the need to succeed, the lack of self esteem and ridiculously high expectations on himself, giving himself no breaks or time to relax, the “i must be productive with every second of my day or i will die” deal, the “peaked at 11” thing, the way in which he goes through life like there’s going to be a fucking test on it

-Eldest Daughter™ lmao. Norman’s always had to be mature, he’s always had to be the best, he’s always had to do the things Ray got out of bc he’s a snitch and Emma got out of because Isabella likes her. Norman gets respect from Isabella only if he excels, and her bar for him is astronomical. He doesn’t have the Mommy Issues that Ray has, but it’s because for him Isabella basically just reflected his expectations on himself, whereas with Ray it was more personal.

-low empathy (part of the autism thing): this one needs more explanation, but it’s not a bad thing in and of itself. Cognitive empathy is a thing and he can use it, but he does not instinctively understand other people’s emotions, or even recognize them properly, especially when the person is not like himself. This is obvious in Emma. Man has no fucking clue what’s going on in her head or why she does what she does, but he can predict what she will do in any given situation very well. He could understand the suicide attempt from ray he predicted more because Ray’s an easier equation to solve, and someone who’s more similar to him. I know he gets it because, well, motherfucker’s just as self desctructive as him, just in a more dignified manner.

-he’s got some sort of chronic illness. This is also me projecting and a headcanon but he’s got something going on, even before lambda pumped him full of growth hormones or whatever which they maybe should have Not Done but oh well. (I assume this just didn’t happen in the anime, since he’s still so fucking short) But he's So weak. He passed out when it was too hot. He passed out when it was too cold. He can’t open a pickle jar. His skin is too pale and he’s skinny af. He’s much more prone to sickness and probably has asthma too? But in the case that he did actually have something going on, I don’t think grace field would see the need to treat it, if it didn’t impact the quality of his meat? Isabella’s probably just “you have chronic pain and you get migraines? Great, take some tylenol and do some calculus.” Can’t say that probably helped anything.

personality type: ISTJ

Basically, he’s the most boring personality type to exist, and personally as an enfp i do not respect him. But basically this means he’s a fucking nerd that gets his projects done for school the day they’re assigned, is probably the president of the Anime Student Council™, and could probably get away with premeditated murder (ok actual istjs this is a joke don’t skin me)

The only trait that norman doesn’t have on the istj thing is telling the truth. Yeah, he values the truth, but like, that doesn’t apply to him, clearly. Bitch is a notorious liar.

The only other personality type he has any similarity with is intj, which is the same except it’s more rare and a purple theme instead of a blue theme. Sadly, that’s not him though, because although he can care more about some kinds of philosophy overall this isn’t the case and ray already occupies this personality type tbh.

strengths and weaknesses: This one’s kind of obvious, but he is aside from the crazy insane intelligence good at planning. Extremely good at planning. He can predict any outcome and figure out how to prevent it, using all his resources. For example he’s physically weak and someone could literally just walk up and stab him, but it doesn’t impede his progress on his goals because he’s surrounded himself with strong, mentally inferior people who would die for him in a heartbeat. He never gets stuck in some “everything is shit and i can’t do anything” deal like Emma and Ray do, he always works through it and has confidence in his abilities (in as much as he will solve the problem or die™. Weaknesses other than his twink body include his Low Wisdom score. It’s funny how he’s often associated with an owl, the mans is 14. He thinks he knows what he’s doing. He doesn’t. Plus obviously his fundamental misunderstanding of so much of everything going on around him, the fact that he lies not just to the world but himself, his refusal to take care of himself and his incredible cowardice. His achilles heel is being forced to, actually confront his actions.

what he likes about himself: He does pride himself on his mental abilities, and his judgement, which in his opinion is the only correct opinion and the only correct way. In the past, he likes being seen as a leader, he likes being responsible for other people. He likes his ability to manipulate and lie, because he sees it as an asset, and I honestly think he enjoys being william minerva more than he enjoys being Norman. He prides himself on his unhealthy expectations and the fact that he is able to meet them. Honestly, he does think he’s better than everyone else, mentally, though it’s humbled by his self hatred. Cursed thought: If Norman had self esteem he would be light yagami.

what he doesn’t like about himself/insecurities: Oh god, nearly everything. His appearance, his status, his superiority, his physical inability, his own mess of a mind, also have I mentioned his appearance. He’s obsessed with self control. He wants everything he sees wrong with himself gone. And I understand why having control of everything is necessary and appealing, everything for him has always been rigid and planned out from moment one, he was even more regulated in lambda, and though he desperately wants to Not Be Food, he has no idea what to do with the chains now that he’s broken out of them. So he just wraps them around himself. Regulates to an unhealthy degree when he sleeps, what he eats, when he actually takes even minimal care of his own problems, what he looks like, how much of himself he lets show, the expressions on his face, the literal thoughts inside his own head he will shut down if they are not Correct. It’s literal self harm. Norman, please stop it.

motivations/goals in life/general philosophy: To be honest, I’m not sure he knows what he wants. He sure thinks he does, he could sure give you a memorized answer, but it means nothing. He wants to excel. He wants Emma to be happy. He wants to be perfect and for that to make everything perfect. But he doesn’t realize everything he’s working towards will do pretty much the opposite of that. He’s a crippling perfectionist, and pretty much everything he does is motivated by his fear of failing. He picks the certain path, he doesn’t wait for anyone else, he doesn’t care if it’s not nice. Emma foils that a most of the time because he cares about her, but it can only go so far, especially after he’s had so much time without her to develop a Complex. His philosophy is very contradictory, basically the tokyo ghoul “everything bad that happens to you stems from a lack of ability”. All of his problems are his fault. All the world’s problems are his to fix. If he can’t fix them, it’s his fault, it’s because he wasn’t strong enough, and not being perfect condemns someone forever, including himself.

how he’s perceived by others vs how he actually is: In most people there wouldn’t truly be much of a difference, but with Norman things are different, because, well, most of his personality in grace field is a put on, as well as the tough guy dictator thing he radiates after lambda. How he appears to someone is determined by the context of their meeting- the kids at grace field see him as a nerdy, weakish, pretty boring kid who is really caring and kind. The researchers at lambda see an obedient, beaten down and perfectionistic boy. The lambda kids see him as an infallible leader, ruthless and genius, a good man who knows what’s right. But in truth none of that is him. It’s a fucking chess game to him, putting on different faces, lying and pretending and treating everyone differently. In truth? He’s a fucking coward. He’s scared out of his mind and he’s tired and he can’t take pain, he’s obsessed with reaching some goal he deems is necessary that in the end is going to be his death because he doesn’t want to face the consequences of his actions. He’s taken on the role of someone evil, though deep down he’s not, he feels it’s easier to live that way because it strips him of his conscience.

interpersonal relationships: In general, Norman sees all relationships in a pretty dim light. He sees everyone as black and white, for the most part, and other people make no sense to him intuitively, he has to figure them out like a puzzle. He’s manipulative and not particularly kind, but he follows all societal expectations to a T, overly focused on his appearance and placing the person he’s interacting with into a Category™. So he can be truly kind, to people he feels deserve it, to people who he values and doesn’t see flaws in. He gets incredibly attached to people he loves, protective, though he often doesn’t take their own feelings on the matter into consideration, and he’s ruthless with anyone who he deems a bad person. With people he understands and relates to, though, things can be different. If he sees someone as like himself, he will drop all the social interaction police bullshit and cut to the chase of whatever he wants or needs from them, and he’s not very forgiving in any manner, if he thinks what someone did is actually bad.

Emma: Norman obviously cares a lot about Emma, and honestly views her as better than anyone else. He realizes her moral integrity and all of the things she has and he doesn’t, and admires it. Because of his black and white view, Emma is like an angel to him. She couldn’t do anything wrong if she tried. But he comes to treat her as something to be protected instead of respected, and although he realizes she wouldn’t like what he’s doing, he fundamentally cannot empathize with her and doesn’t try to understand her. Their personalities are very literally opposite. Norman really needs to fucking listen to her. And Emma needs to understand that Norman doesn’t have a single ounce of empathy and you really do need to spell it out for him. Emma can only convince him when she has logical reasons for her actions, which she, doesn’t often have. And Emma gave Norman too much slack, because she didn’t see past the surface, and Ray never wanted to warn her, even though he knew the dude was showing a bunch of red flags, because you know. It was kind of an unspoken deal between them. (on ray’s part)

Ray: His relationship with Ray is a lot more complicated than with Emma. He understands Ray, where he doesn’t understand Emma, and he can see right through anything Ray does. And this makes things really tense between them, because Ray doesn’t, take kindly to being psychoanalyzed. If someone perceives him he will deck them and Norman is just there silently perceiving him at all times when Emma doesn’t see it. They are both constantly in competition with each other, but they care about each other a lot, though it’s kind of in a derogatory way. They both recognize each other as fundamentally fucked up, and silently agree never to bring it up with Emma. They’re nice to each other when she’s around, but all pretenses disappear when she’s gone. Ray is always frustrated with Norman, because Norman’s never been intimidated by him, and though he tries his best not to be vulnerable around him, Norman can always see through it, whereas Ray can’t crack Norman’s fake fucking smile no matter what he does. Norman will always take Emma’s side, and doesn’t see Ray as a good person at all, but he still understands and can excuse him, he takes measures to be… worse than Ray, which is better in his mind, because it’s rational, and ‘not selfish’.

Isabella: She has always had ridiculously high expectations for Norman, and treats him kind of harshly compared to the others. Bitch has heat stroke and Isabella’s first question is a calculus problem instead of like, “are you ok”. She knows he doesn’t complain about anything ever and she doesn’t stop him from being Terrible to himself, because it makes her job easier. They want smart kids, not mentally adjusted kids. She does really care for all of them, but she basically overrides it, she gives them what they want, not what they need, lets them be exactly what they’re making themselves. Isabella is distant with Ray but gives him anything he wants, she’s close and super nice with Emma, but Norman is… it’s weird. Isabella is proud of him because he meets her astronomically high bar. But at the same time, Norman never really cared for her that much and has never pretended to. Once they discover The Thing, though, he has a revelation, and it doesn’t take him long to switch his entire perspective about her. He’s pretty much like. Oh. She’s like me. That explains it, time to treat her like I treat myself: fucking brutally. Passive aggressive as hell. The kind of energy the :) emoticon at the end of an email gives. He does like just go “yeah we should kill her” at one point, which. You know, ok. When he got shipped out it was hhhh really interesting because Isabella knew full well he knew he was walking to his death and Norman was like “are you Truly Happy?” and just went :) and she was like h u h and tried to get him to talk while they were walking there because she feels Bad about it and he just. Did not. He didn’t say a single word just kind of smiled menacingly at her and I think it was half a sort of rebellion and half because he viewed her as similar to himself and therefore felt no need to put up any front with her, no words were necessary for him to impart exactly how he felt about it

Lambda kids: His relationship with the lambda kids is weird and bittersweet. I think he really truly does care about them, they were in a similar situation to his and he wants them to get what they want. However it is not a healthy or beneficial relationship, they see him as a god and don’t realize that he’s killing himself to give them what they want, he’s basically adopted them when out of anyone norman’s the one that should least be in charge of kids. I think he’s honestly younger than them but I’m not sure if they even know. He acts like their fucking mom, and that’s from what he thinks mothers are like… like isabella?? Giving them what they want, not what they need, lying to them, showing a front, caring deeply for them but at the same time using them for his own ends. And it’s not helpful for him. He thinks he knows what they need, but what he’s doing is what they want. What they need is therapy,(and so does norman), and he doesn’t think there’s anything wrong with using them as weapons because they love him. It makes him feel good, to be seen as perfect, to have people who don’t know how weak he really is. But it’s only making him worse, and he’s enabling everything the lambda kids are doing wrong as well. They need like, Yuugo and Lucas. Some actual adults who are actually wise and have the ability and the knowledge to take care of them and understand their mental problems and maybe actually address them. And actually be nice to them. But um sadly.

what he’s doing wrong: It’s pretty obvious, but… Norman, you maybe *shouldn’t* commit genocide? You’re not helping emma, you’re not making anything better. You’re not helping the lambda kids, you’re enabling them. You’re not helping your friends from grace field, you’re ignoring what they want. You’re not helping the world, you’re eradicating an entire race from the face of the earth and murdering the poor for the crimes of the fucking 1%. You’re not being a martyr, you’re a selfish piece of shit liar you little coward, you just want an easy way out and you want to die on your bloody fucking hill instead of admitting you’re wrong. Grow up, cringe little man.

why he went wrong: I think most of the reason this happened was the way he was raised combined with the kind of person he is. Norman would have turned out fine, if there has been good adults in his life who actually cared about his well being. Instead he got people who just wanted to control him and make him what they needed, and family who largely didn’t realize there was anything wrong. Ray being an ass to him most of forever probably didn’t help but well, that’s just Ray. Even then, he would have managed alright if he escaped with the rest of the kids because he would never have been separated from the experiences that caused the rest of them to realize demons weren’t all evil. In lambda he didn’t have anyone supporting him or telling him when things went too far, so he fell into relying on himself alone, pushing himself further with absolutely no limits. All he saw was enemies and allies, and things got stratified. He never had a lucas or a yuugo or mujika when he would have needed it, instead he found children who wanted him to be in charge and a world that made it so he had to be. Everything was an echo chamber for his worst thoughts, so they just became more and more dominant.

what he needs: To put it simply, he needs Emma and Ray to cut to the chase and slap him across the face and make him take care of himself. He needs to be forced to see everything for what it really is- this edgy 14 year old committing atrocities to feel better about himself? He needs to be told that what he’s doing is irrational, because in reality, it is. There are better solutions that he’s ignoring, both to his own suffering and the demons, and the way he’s going now no one will truly be happy because of it, that there is no requirement that things be perfect and this bullshit doesn’t make him stronger. He needs someone responsible to take the fucking dagger out of his hands. He also needs someone to babysit him and make him go to bed at a reasonable time.

i describe his personality through songs on my spotify playlist for him:

-outrunning karma by alec benjamin: this one super applies because it calls him out for making shitty decisions, being manipulative and a liar, and having blood on his hands in a very calm and subdued manner, that he knows this is wrong and yet he chooses to keep running faster and faster towards destruction, that he means to escape it through death

-empty by boyinaband and jaiden: yes this is a song about anorexia yes it also applies to norman i’m not saying norman literally has an eating disorder (but honestly it wouldn’t be far out of character if he did) but metaphorically this applies to his method of ignoring his needs, both emotional and physical, in favor of seeming in control

-toxic thoughts by faith marie: this one speaks to his gifted kid trauma. Man’s got perfectionism running his entire soul. He’s terrified of failing, because he’s always been at the very top, he’ll beat himself up over any miniscule mistake and forces himself to keep at bad habits that keep him Productive, but he won’t ask for help no matter how much he’s suffering because that would be failing, he fights with his mind, this song basically tells him “yeah i feel you but you need to stop that”

-no time to die by billie eilish: ignore the romantic overtones but this is emma and norman, emma who trusted norman and was lied to, betrayed, for norman’s greater good, and norman who refuses to feel or hurt because of it, who refuses to apologize or see himself as wrong, pushes forward because he’s going to Pass Away

-achilles come down by gang of youths: hhhhh it's like. His vibe. Obviously you can disregard the lifestyle specific shit but it's. It's achilles come down you have to understand it’s like the same deal as friend, please just like french and longer

-friend, please by 21 pilots: i feel like i don't have to explain this one but it’s more to the manga (not the anime where he kind of figures out he done did wrong by himself instead of committing unforgivable sins and still going yeah this is valid before emma is like holy fuck). He is like sorry emma I cannot fix anything I’m going to die :) *coughs blood* and emma going like stop it stop it stop it fuck you see you fucked up and i forgive you just stop don’t walk away while he’s like “no<3”

why im a repressed little norman kinnie even tho he’s my exact opposite: I don’t generally kin ppl like norman, honestly he’s an infj I have no clue how it happened but I’m pretty sure it’s because of my intense desire to project onto a little man who cannot lift a milk jug and has chronic pain and decides you know what I AM tired of being nice i DO wanna go apeshit. Also he’s a twink. A little bastard. He’s a terrible person and I go mood every time he does anything. I said mood when he fell out of a tree. Don’t know what this says about me, I swear I wouldn’t commit no genocide. He’s like the inverse of Yoichi Saotome, and somehow i kin him too. Damn.

Miscellaneous headcanons:

-man’s SO attached to his william minerva cloak. He’s a wispy little bitch, you know he’s wearing that thing inside the house, he’s fucking cold. It also makes him Look Important he can retreat into it like an emo middle schooler with an oversized sweatshirt

-although you could probably get Mad street cred from having two whole brands you know he’s not gonna whip it out and show off his lambda thing he’s incredibly self conscious and his chest hasn’t seen the sun in years

-norman’s got MAD laundry skills to be able to wear like, all white all the time while constantly murdering people. I think he’s the only one who knows to do the laundry. And Ray is the only one who knows how to cook.

-but even then there’s gotta still be a few questionable stains on that thing, but if anyone asks he’s like “ketchup” “I’ve literally never seen you eat anything with that much color” “ketchup :)” *coughs blood*

-he’s probably thought “well i have not literally coughed blood yet today so I am not legally obligated to take care of myself”

-He probably adopted much of his current personality from taking on the persona of william minerva. I’m calling him out for being like me, he’s a blank motherfucker, he absorbs personality traits from characters he plays! He’s just not in theatre so it’s a bit more intense!

-the first time he sees barbara Eating Demon Meat he kinda stares and goes oh cool! not for me and violently exits the room. Like it's hilarious bc he thinks that's really gross on a moral level though he understands why she would do it

-Which is even funnier bc I’m not sure about the canon on this but there was That Chapter Cover that one time that kinda seemed to imply norman eating demon meat which i absolutely latched onto because I’m terrible. He was just politely eating it. With a knife and fork like why dude. As to a possible reason for him doing that I can come up with, of course barbara does it out of spite, but man we don’t know the properties, if it had some sort of painkilling aspect to it or it was like, caffeine, you know he would, but he would Definitely not talk about it

-I kinda disagree with what the anime did in episode eight? It was good I liked it and the imagery was fantastic but also have you considered Norman could not kill someone with his own hands if he tried, or even physically injure them? That’s what his minions are for shawty. That doesn’t make it any less bad, of course, but the manga captured it perfectly by the fact of he carries around a dagger and a scepter in the capitol battle, but he never even raises it out of more than intimidation. He walks through calmly like he’s not scared at all but he makes sure all the lambda kids do all the actual murder, he just stands there impartially, clearly The Mastermind, as the kids fucking murder the queen of the demons. And I think that’s more profound because he’s, a coward. And he doesn’t realize being the one who orders the strike makes you just as responsible as the one who sticks the knife in someone. The knife is just there to Compensate™ for the fact that he weighs like eighty pounds.

-he’s more of like lady macbeth (because he’s a girlboss) than macbeth himself. He has blood on his hands, but it’s the kind of blood that you can’t wash off. He never killed anyone himself, and he cannot admit he never would have been able to.

-the last thing is that there are definitely epic things about the anime, episode 8 was my favorite so far, goddamn that imagery and the bitch walking through the city while it burns down with the screaming asmr going on behind him my god. We stan. But like the downside of, letting Emma and Ray get to him before he commits first degree murder makes the whole thing lose a lot of his value. In the manga (oh my god look at me being a pretentious manga fan please) it fit more of his ideas- he never backed down, and he planned for Emma coming and trying to stop him. Of course he wanted Emma to stop him, he wanted it with all his fucking heart he was pleading for it to happen but the man wouldn’t give himself what he wanted if he was held at gunpoint. He knew she’d come and he made absolutely sure she wouldn’t be able to stop him. So when she came and he said “you’re too late”??? It kind of said it all, in the fact that he was disappointed that he got his way. He still thought he did the right thing, but deep down there where he shoved all his thoughts and feelings he desperately wanted to be saved from himself.

So yeah, those are my thoughts. Feel free to eviscerate me if these are not Correct he is just my favorite girlboss who I feel the need to yell at

#tpn #the promised neverland #yakusoku no neverland #tpn norman #norman tpn #essay post #god why do i do this to myself #dear god help me this is 5000 words #rowan's hyperfixation essays

73 notes · View notes

puddygeeks · 3 years

Text

Wᴇ Cᴏᴍᴇ Rᴜɴɴɪɴɢ - Tʜᴇ 100 Bᴇʟʟᴀᴍʏ x OC - Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 68: Gʀᴜᴅɢᴇ

Masterlist

Rating: Mature

Summary: During her time in the Skybox, Indigo formed a precious friendship with fellow outcast Octavia Blake, the girl under the floor. At first they thought their departure from the oppression of the Ark was a blessing, but quickly came to rely on Indigo's keen survival instincts. The 100 struggle to meet the challenges of Earth whilst Bellamy strives to lead the wavering teenagers and his irresponsible attitude fuels constant conflict with Indigo. Their only shared interest is in protecting Octavia and Indigo beings to suspect that there is a deeper cause to Bellamy's seemingly irrational choices. As the consequences of his actions mount up around him, he finally begins to confide in her and she discovers more than she ever bargained for.

Fandom: CW’s The 100

Pairing: OC x Bellamy Blake

LONG TERM ONGOING PROJECT :)

My writing is entirely fuelled by coffee! If you enjoy my work, feel free to donate toward my caffeine dependency: will work for coffee

Warnings: Mature content. Non-consent, language, sex, self harm, suicide, anxiety, helplessness, torture, captivity/confinement, alcohol/drug use.

Episodes: Ye Who Enter Here

Chapter Sixty-Eight

Raven and Gina were already in the middle of arranging tools for their task when we arrived in the docking bay and Octavia and I busied ourselves with loading the van with supplies, both feeling content to get this trip over with as soon as possible.

We remained focused on the task at hand, until Bellamy arrived and called me over in his best attempt at a subtle manner and Octavia flashed me an interested look as I followed him from the room.

Before I could question him, he led me into a separate hallway where Kane was waiting for us.

“I’m sorry to pull you away from your work, but as council members, I thought you should know what’s happening.” He began, the serious expression that he wore causing a knot to form in my stomach and I waited with baited breath for an explanation.

“The Commander has made contact and offered us the chance to attend a summit today. Whilst you complete your delivery to Mount Weather, Abby and I will present our terms for an alliance.” He revealed, my back straightening up as my posture became alert and I glanced over at Bellamy to find that he was equally shocked at this sudden proposal.

“But - you said you needed my help for that?” I stuttered, realising that he intended to keep me occupied whilst this meeting happened and feeling a surge of anger that my supposedly important position might have been a farce. “You said that I would come with you once a meeting was arranged. I can translate, at the very least.” I argued, hurt that I was being closed out now that we had finally reached our goal and Kane smiled at me in a manner that hinted at his conflict.

“With all due respect, Sir, I’m not happy about this either. If things go wrong, you should have the best of the guard with you.” Bellamy interjected, seeming equally put out by being excluded and I noted with concern that his first thought was to expect that they might need to fight their way out.

“Bellamy. You’re still recovering from your last impulsive encounter with a grounder. Until I can be confident that you aren't going to repeat that behaviour, I can’t in good conscience take you into their capital city.” Kane explained, as Bellamy grimaced and shook his head in disagreement, but remarkably held his tongue.

“And unfortunately, Indigo, it is not my choice on whether to bring you. Your teacher is assisting us in this meeting and she has forbidden me from bringing you into Polis.” He added, causing my mouth to drop open in shock.

“What? Why?!” I gasped, an overwhelming feeling of confusion and betrayal washing over me and Kane fidgeted awkwardly on the spot, clearly uncomfortable that he had been put in this position.

“I didn’t ask. But I got the impression that it was important. She certainly didn’t say it simply to be cruel.” Kane described, sounding as if he knew more than he was letting on and I hissed under my breath in frustration.

“We can manage this. The Commander has proven herself to be reasonable and open to negotiation in the past. With Arlo’s support, I believe we could secure peace today. In the meantime, I’m trusting the two of you to assist in progressing the successful reintegration of Farm Station.” He added, fixing us both with meaningful looks and I rolled my eyes bitterly.

“Yeah, yeah. I hear you. You want us to butter up the bully, whilst you work on world peace.” I groaned, noticing a slight smile on Kane’s lips that he tried to hide.

“Come on, Bel. Let's get this over with.” I suggested, placing a hand on his arm to encourage him to follow me and we made our way to the Rover together, both silently sulking about our rejections.

During the drive to the Mountain, Bellamy filled in the others about the Summit and whilst they all chatted about the possible outcomes, Octavia and I held a silent conversation of our own with only expressions.

It was clear that she had noticed the tension between Bellamy and I, but I also knew that she understood why I was stressed by his recent behaviour. Having her with us was already more helpful than I had expected and I was able to relax somewhat at the thought that she would have my back if needed.

By the time that we arrived at our destination, Octavia was almost turning green from nausea and I had to stifle a laugh as she stumbled outside first. After immersing herself in grounder culture, it seemed that she’d lost her space legs and gained their dislike for any forms of transport other than horseback.

“I knew I should’ve taken my horse.” She groaned as she wobbled in an effort to reorient herself on the ground and I chuckled at her, whilst Gina hurried past us to check on Raven as she struggled out of the driver's seat.

Though the girls moved easily into unloading the Rover, Bellamy seemed distracted, staring out into the distance as if he hadn’t even noticed the movement around him.

I already knew exactly where his mind was, as mine was trapped in the same terrifying space and I wandered over to stand silently by his side.

We stood together without speaking for a few moments, both gazing in the direction of Polis and focusing on our own anxieties about the Summit. Though it seemed petty, I couldn’t help the niggling feeling that Bellamy had only wanted to join them in order to recover Clarke and I had to push the childish concern to one side.

“We should both be there.” He muttered finally, keeping his eyes trained in place and I sighed thoughtfully.

“Well, if you hadn’t chased after Clarke like a complete idiot, then you would be.” I responded accusingly, unable to contain the bitterness that was coursing through me and he turned to view me with a hurt expression.

“I’m sorry. I’m just tense. I don’t understand why Arlo doesn’t want me there. I know that I could help.” I admitted, crossing my arms defensively and he nodded his head in understanding.

“I get it. You think that you’re being punished for something too?” He enquired, viewing me with concern and I chewed on my lip as I considered this.

“I don’t know. Leaving her? Maybe she thinks that if I’m not going to live like a grounder, then I don’t get to play the part? It's hard to figure out Arlo’s motives.” I explained, still muddling through possibilities in my mind and the question continued to bother me.

I recalled the conversations that we had about Azgeda, the many times that she told me I was not ready for the dangers that we would find there. However, the last time I had seen her, she’d offered for me to be a part of her investigations and I had to wonder exactly what kind of threat was in Polis that she would consider worse than the Ice Nation betrayal.

“Kane’s right, though. You still need time to heal.” I added as I forced myself back into the present, flashing Bellamy a knowing look and he straightened up slightly, trying to correct his posture to hide the impact that his injury was still having on him.

“I’m fine. I’m ready to get back out there now.” He insisted, grabbing a bag from the back of the Rover to prove how capable he was, but I noticed a slight limp in his gait as he bought it over to me.

“Oh, really?” I asked innocently, raising my brows in disbelief as I offered him the chance to be honest with me and he gave me a stern nod in response.

My movements were too quick for him to anticipate as I reached out to jab him in the side and then much gentler at the stitches in his thigh. He yelped in pain, before dropping the bag to the ground with a thud and I crossed my arms again, as I fixed him with a scrutinising look.

“You can’t con a con-artist, baby.” I crooned, turning to load myself up with my own share of cargo. “When you’re ready to get back out there, you know that I’ll have your back against Kane and anyone else that tries to stop you. But you had better believe that if you try to do it any sooner, I will beat your ass. With love.” I clarified, smiling warmly at him despite his annoyed expression.

“You drive me insane. You know that, right?” He grumbled as he straightened back up and I simply chuckled at him.

“Of course. How else am I supposed to entertain myself?” I remarked, glancing around to check that we were all ready to go, before I returned my attention to him. “Think you missed one.” I teased, pointing to the bag that I’d made him drop and he finally cracked a smile as he loaded himself up.

“You guys. Did I ever tell you about how I saved Sinclair’s ass on the Ark.” Raven quipped, joining us with a large bag hanging on her shoulder in determination and it was clear that getting out of Arkadia with Gina had lifted her spirits.

“Please, don’t.” Octavia groaned in disinterest, strolling away before Raven could engage her in a conversation and I flashed her a look that told her to stop the negativity.

“You mean the time you went rogue on a spacewalk?” Gina chimed in, immediately indulging Raven with a keen attitude that was heart-warming to witness and Octavia quickly clocked on to my intentions as I observed them with a smug pout.

Bellamy strode ahead to lead the group, leaving Octavia and I to fall into step side by side immediately behind him and we purposely allowed the girls some space to enjoy each other's company. The Rover doors closed behind us and I could still overhear their conversation as they followed us inside.

“That depends on your definition of going rogue.” Raven answered, her voice lighter than it had been in a while and hearing it gave me a deep sense of satisfaction.

“Oh, really?” Gina responded flirtatiously, prompting Octavia to raise a brow at me sneakily and I risked a quiet giggle.

It was exciting to consider the way their relationship could develop and I hoped that I could count on seeing Raven smile like she was now more often.

“I just hopped on a robotic arm and aimed it at the solar array.” Raven clarified, clearly enjoying herself as she recounted the details of the story with enthusiasm and I smiled at Octavia fondly.

“I wish they’d bang already.” Octavia groaned in Trig, rolling her eyes dramatically and I scoffed at how unchanged her attitude was towards anyone hesitating to get together.

“Hey. Not everyone moves as quickly as you. Plus, she went through a trauma. It’s gonna take time for her to be ready to try again. I’m just glad to see her happy.” I pointed out defensively, referring back to all of the times that she had pressured me when I first confessed to my feelings for Bellamy and Octavia softened her expression.

“I know. She deserves it.” She admitted carefully, the remorse in her expression revealing that she was likely thinking about Finn too and I nodded in agreement.

“Shof op.” [Quiet.] Bellamy remarked as he glanced back at us, only to be met with glares from us both for his rudeness. “You’re like a couple of gossiping old women.” He added, cracking a smile and I pouted, annoyed that he could tell we were up to no good despite his limited understanding of Trigedasleng.

Whilst Raven and Gina continued chatting happily behind us obliviously, I became aware of the sound of distant music and laughter, and felt my stomach drop with dread. It grew louder as we closed in on the dining room that Farm Station had been assigned to and as we turned the corner to the open doors, we were met with a scene of celebration.

A host of Farm Station inhabitants were filling the tables, indulging in a luxurious meal with music blaring around them in a joyous environment.

I felt sick as I took in the situation and the feeling only worsened as I noticed Pike sitting at the top table. He had conveniently placed himself in the seat where the President once would usually preside over his residents and as he noticed our arrival, he regarded us with the same dishonest gaze that Dante has always given us.

Pike rose to his feet with an unnaturally warm smile and held out his arms in a strange gesture.

“Welcome!” He announced as he began to approach us and I found myself clenching my jaw to contain my emotions.

“Come, join us.” He offered enthusiastically to which only Bellamy moved any further into the space, but I couldn’t bring myself to react at all, hesitating on the spot with the other three girls.

“Someone’s made themselves at home.” Raven muttered under her breath and I was glad to find that it wasn’t only Octavia and I that felt uncomfortable with this. It seemed strangely morbid to revel in the mountain's comfort when it had been a mass grave mere months ago.

“Natronas.” [Traitors.] Octavia spat under her breath, the fury that rose in her also bubbling in my stomach and I nudged her side subtly in support.

“Don’t let him make you lose your cool.” I warned, meeting her eyes with a meaningful expression and I waited for her to release a long breath, before encouraging her to step forward with me.

By now, I expected that Pike was already aware of both Octavia and I’s involvement with the grounders and after my previous outburst, I was cautious not to allow him any more ammunition to paint us as savages. The delicate balance here was obvious and it was important to ensure that the power remained where it should, with our current leaders who understood the need for peace.

“There must be thirty of them in here.” Octavia remarked as we reached Bellamy, attempting to gauge his reaction and although he seemed somewhat concerned, I could tell that he was not comprehending the impact of this as we were.

“Thirty-six, but the more, the merrier.” Pike responded cheerfully, oblivious to our disdain and Bellamy parted from us to greet him with a handshake.

The way that the two men smiled at each other made my stomach lurch and it took all of my self control to prevent the disgust from reaching my face. Though I tried to remind myself that Bellamy had a different impression of him to me, every time that Pike looked at my lover made my skin crawl.

“Thirty-six? Wow.” Octavia stated, the disapproval clear in her voice and I knew in that moment that it would be my responsibility to be the responsible one of us today. “The grounders are gonna think we moved in.” She added, forcing a tight smile after and Bellamy glanced back at us over his shoulder.

His gaze was a clear warning as he met Octavia’s eyes. He then turned to me as if wordlessly reminding me that it had been my idea to bring her along and I simply shrugged, unable to pretend that I didn’t agree with her sentiment.

“Well, there was no room at the Inn.” Pike excused, leaning past Bellamy to meet Octavia’s eyes with a charming smile, but she remained stern faced, demonstrating that she would not be fooled by him.

“And this is your option?” She interrogated, unwilling to drop this fight just yet and I noticed Bellamy’s shoulders tense at her attitude. She was damaging his pristine reputation and I could tell that he wanted to maintain his air of control around Pike.

“O.” Bellamy drawled, glancing over his shoulder at her again impatiently and she sighed, before sneaking an apologetic peek at me.

“I’m outta here.” She announced, dropping her bags into my hands with annoyance and turning to storm out without another word.

“Tavi!” I called after her, keen to encourage her to stay, but she ignored my cries as she stomped down the hall toward the exit, leaving me caught between the two siblings again.

Before I could make a decision on who to support, Pike gave Bellamy a wide smile that made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end and I resolved to stick with my earlier plan to never leave him alone with Bellamy.

“Spirited.” Pike commented idly as he watched Octavia leave, causing Bellamy to nod dismissively in response and I couldn’t prevent myself from butting into their conversation.

“She’s not spirited. She’s right. We've survived this long because of our truce with the grounders. Like it or not, your group being here endangers that.” I pointed out, causing the smile to fade from his face and as I caught sight of Bellamy’s expression, I softened my voice.

“People died here. Lots of people. Many of our own were held captive and tortured inside of this facility, including me. This may be a great place for you, but try to respect that it’s a painful memory for some of us, not just the grounders.” I reminded him and though I was sure that Bellamy would prefer me to simply be friendly, I caught a hint of pride in the way that he smiled at me.

“I understand. My apologies.” Pike answered, his voice completely void of any authenticity as he returned to his political act and I forced a polite smile in response.

“I’m gonna go check on O.” Bellamy announced, relieving me from the strain of remaining at Pike’s side and I nodded gratefully.

“I think that’s a good idea. I’ll see if Raven and Gina need any help.” I reported, keen to make my escape and Bellamy caught me off guard by bending down to kiss my cheek before he left.

Though I knew that it was likely meant as a subtle way of telling me that he was proud of me for keeping my cool, I felt uncomfortable that Pike had witnessed it.

When I turned to seek out the girls, I noticed that Pike was now studying me with interest and I rushed out of the dining hall before he could say anything to cause me to lash out.

❖ ── ✦ ──『✙』── ✦ ── ❖

The gentle teaching methods that Knox had used to train me to help out in mechanical had done little to prepare me for working with Raven. Though I’d asked for simple tasks that could lighten her workload, her perfectionist nature made even that next to impossible and if it wasn’t for Gina playing the mediator, I was pretty sure that I’d have punched her by now.

It was a relief when Sinclair arrived to tell us that we were being called to a priority mission and we wasted no time in dropping our tools to follow him.

My mind was already racing with scenarios as we raced through the halls and lights flickered on and off all around us due to our unfinished work.

“Why the hell are they calling us off?” Raven questioned, moving ahead to walk alongside Sinclair, and Gina and I followed, listening carefully for any insight that we could gain. “I’ve got tripped circuits all over the grid.”

“Oh, whatever it is, it supersedes fixing the power problem.” Sinclair responded with frustration and his words caused my stomach to drop.

When we’d left this morning, Kane had made it clear that keeping Farm station happy was a top priority and I couldn’t imagine anything positive being important enough to change that.

“Hey. Try not to panic.” Gina remarked quietly and I turned my attention to her with confusion. “I know that face. Whatever it is, we’ll manage it. We always do.” She asserted with a reassuring smile and I sighed, disappointed that I was so easy to read nowadays.

“That’s easier said than done. Anything happening on the day of the Summit can only spell bad news.” I mumbled, feeling dread already gathering in my chest and she nodded in understanding.

As we rushed toward the dining hall, a spark exploded out of a nearby socket and both Sinclair and Raven paused to check that it could be made safe. Unable to wait any longer for answers, I rushed ahead and jogged my way into the hall to find Bellamy, Octavia and Pike surrounding an unfamiliar grounder.

“White war paint.” I stated, identifying her clan the moment that I got a clear look at her and she glanced up at me, thinning her eyes in interest. “Who is this? And why are we holding her?” I interrogated, turning to face the two men suspiciously and Bellamy shifted on the spot.

“This is Echo. The one I told you about, she helped me when I was trying to get you all out of the mountain.” He explained, seeming especially awkward about repeating this in front of Octavia and Pike, and I turned to examine her much more closely now, both of us seeming to be getting the measure of each other.

“You didn’t mention that she was Ice Nation.” I remarked, keeping my eyes trained on her and she seemed somewhat alarmed by my perceptiveness.

“Honestly, I didn’t know how to tell the difference when we met.” Bellamy confessed, shrugging apologetically as he spoke. “She came to tell us that the Summit is a trap. Our people are in danger.” He explained in a rushed manner and though I whipped around to face him in shock, Pike interrupted before I could get another word out.

“You’re one of them. So, why are you telling us this?” Pike grilled, glaring down at Echo aggressively and though I was also on edge with the situation, I didn’t appreciate his intimidating behaviour to our possible ally.

“We abandoned Skaikru in the battle for the mountain.” Echo answered, returning Pike’s eye contact with no fear, then she turned to face Bellamy with guilt in her eyes. “It was wrong.” She added, earning a subtle nod of appreciation from him and at least a hint of my respect for admitting this.

“And won’t they miss you?” Pike suggested, leaning closer into her in an attempt to frighten her and her posture grew tense, making it clear that she was losing patience with his distrustful attitude.

“Maybe.” She answered sharply, glancing up at him with disdain and I watched her closely for any signs of deceit. “But that’s why we need to hurry.” She confirmed, scanning each of us impatiently and I was unable to tell whether she seemed genuine.

“Pike. She saved my life. We can trust her.” Bellamy asserted, his voice remarkably certain and though I was pleased to see him standing up to Pike, I couldn’t help an uneasy feeling at how quickly he had trusted this Ice Nation soldier.

Though I wanted to raise my concerns, I decided to wait until Pike couldn’t hear us so that I didn’t undermine Bellamy. It had been hard to convince him to trust the grounders in the first place and I definitely didn’t want to give Pike a chance to jump on my doubt, or to use it to manipulate Bellamy.

“Listen up.” Bellamy announced as Sinclair, Gina and Raven finally arrived in the dining hall. “If we want to get to Polis before the attack, we have to move.” He ordered, as I noticed all of the guns that were being unpacked around us and began to feel the stress of this threat pushing down on me.

“Attack?” Sinclair questioned, staring at Bellamy in wide eyed disbelief and I was glad that he had arrived to add another voice of reason to the room. “Do we have confirmation of that?” He enquired, glancing between us worriedly and I looked over at Bellamy for an answer.

“We radioed, but no answer.” He revealed and I pushed my hair out of my face to rub at my temples. This was certainly not the result that I’d hoped for and knowing that Pike and the others weren’t responding only added to the urgency of the situation.

“They may already be dead for all we know.” Pike suggested, attempting to rile the group into a frenzy and I jumped in to cut him off.

“No way. Arlo would have got them out.” I argued, noticing that Echo perked up at this name and resolved to follow this up later. “Indra wouldn’t allow anyone to harm them either. They have allies in there. Kane was extremely cautious since we moved this lot in. He might not have wanted to take any technology inside.” I theorised, attempting to find a less disastrous reason for their lack of contact and Pike scoffed loudly at my comments.

“We can’t possibly know that! The grounders they were meeting might even be involved. They could already have killed our people and if they have, we need to be ready to respond.” Pike exclaimed, pushing at my fragile self control and I moved closer to face him down.

“Oh, I’m sure you’d love that. Any reason to start a fight with them.” I accused, squaring my shoulders as I spoke and as he opened his mouth to defend himself, I spoke over him. “What is it you called yourselves when you came across our first group? Grounder killers, wasn’t it?” I recalled, making him squirm in response and he turned to appeal to Sinclair instead.

“We can’t allow this to go unanswered.” He stated firmly, as if he were already certain that a crime had been committed and I was relieved when Sinclair refused to shrink under his aggressive behaviour.

“Don’t make this about the missiles.” Sinclair answered evenly, holding Pike’s gaze with confidence and I felt my heart skip a beat as I processed his words.

“This is about survival!” Pike defended passionately and fire began to rise from the pit of my stomach at this new development. “We don’t have the numbers, but the missiles in this mountain even the playing field and you know I’m right.”

“Why are we even talking about missiles? You want to blow up the place where our people are, just in case they’re dead? Are you completely insane?!” I yelled, my voice rising out of my control and everyone around me jumped at my sudden outburst, causing me to lower my voice before I spoke again. “This mountain has already annihilated too many grounder villages and you're seriously considering bombing their capital? How is that going to help anything? We’d just become the same as the monsters that we fought out of this place.”

“Indigo’s right. We shouldn’t be discussing measures like this. We need to focus on saving our people.” Gina piped up, helping to break the tension in the air and when I met her eyes, she gave me a supportive smile.

“Even if I did agree with you, we still don’t have the launch codes. So let’s focus on what we can do.” Sinclair argued and for a moment, I felt relieved that Pike’s tirade had come to an end, before Raven stepped in to reopen the argument.

“No, but we have me.” She announced, as I rolled my eyes at her in disappointment, but my expression was nothing next to Sinclair, who just stared at her with blatant annoyance for several moments.

“And you accuse engineers of arrogance?” He questioned under his breath as he approached her, his firm gaze expressing the many criticisms that he refrained from saying aloud and I gained a new respect for him, as he refused to be bullied into rash action.

“I’m growing as a person.” She shrugged carelessly, before wandering off with Gina at her side and Sinclair following closely behind, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Let’s go.” Pike growled in a low, threatening voice as he pulled Echo from her seat and I was on him before I’d even decided what I would say.

“Get your hands off her!” I spat, barging him backwards and placing myself between them. “You’ve made your feelings on grounders abundantly clear today. If you think that I’m leaving you alone with one, you’re even more unstable than I thought.” I stated, holding my position to shield her from his reach as I turned my face to Octavia.

“I can’t come with you. Watch this man like your life depends on it, because it very well might. Keep an eye on your idiot brother for me too. I can’t handle him sulking his way through another injury. And don’t forget that she is from Azgeda.” I blurted, noticing that Pike’s eyes widened as he realised that I could also speak Trig and Octavia nodded keenly back at me.

“Don’t worry. I know a snake when I see one.” She answered, glancing at Pike with a smirk and I was relieved that she didn’t hesitate to support me. “And I’m always careful. If she’s up to something, I’ll find out. Besides, she knows that she can’t hide anything in Trig now.” She added, glancing back at Echo who was assessing us both with surprise, before Octavia stepped behind me to move her out of Pike’s reach far more gently than he had.

“Octavia will manage her. You can go.” I stated coldly, as he glanced over at Bellamy for support and when he didn’t receive it, he reluctantly left us.

“You’re not happy with this plan?” Bellamy suggested, approaching me with a concerned look and I sighed thoughtfully, glad that we could finally discuss this situation alone.

“I don’t know. Something doesn’t feel right. I just can’t figure out what.” I admitted, glancing up at him nervously and he furrowed his brows. “Just be careful not to be blindsided. I completely understand why you trust Echo, but try to remember that she is Azgeda. We don’t know how long she’d been locked up for when you met her, but now she’s been home for a while. Her loyalties will have changed. We’ve never been good at getting ahead of their plans and we don’t know if she’s part of their agenda somehow. She may not even know if she is.” I suggested as I desperately tried to consider every possible outcome, rubbing at my temples in stress and he pushed my hands away to cup my face.

“We’ll be careful, Inds. Eyes wide open. Nothing gets past you.” He promised, placing a kiss on my forehead and I sighed guiltily at his words. He thinned his eyes at me, realising that something was off and I glanced up sadly up at him, feeling immensely torn between commitments. “You’re not coming, are you?”

“Someone has to stay behind and make sure that they don’t blow up Polis. Besides, I’m not allowed in, remember? If they’re okay in there, Arlo will just be angry that I came.” I divulged, feeling immensely pressured by this responsibility and he smiled at me with understanding. “Please be safe. I know the stakes are high and that usually brings out your hero streak, but I’m gonna need you to be sensible. Pike’s already a loose cannon with a grudge against grounders. You don’t need any more risks.” I clarified, feeling as if it was impossible to know the right decision between staying here and joining them to keep an eye on Pike.

“I’ll keep things under control. Octavia will watch Echo and I can watch Pike. Have faith, Love. We’ll bring our people back.” He assured, caressing my face comfortingly and I tried my hardest to believe in him. “You just make sure no one here blows us up.” He added teasingly and I couldn't stop myself from smiling as he pulled me into a kiss.

18 notes · View notes

paradigmsofbrittaperry · 3 years

Text

long rambly band thing under the cut lol

okay so I cant remember how much I’ve talked about this on here, but I’ve had a lot of Not Great Experiences over the past two years when it comes to band, despite the activity being my favorite in the whole entire world. the tl;dr is that my beloved director left my school after my junior year and left me in charge as drum major, but his replacement was awful and a bunch of bullshit happened and many of my close friends stabbed me in the back and then I went on to have a pretty bad season of indoor drumline that got cut short b/c of covid. that summary glossed over A LOT and the outcome of everything was that a lot of personal progress I’d made got undone and I was left with incredible amounts of baggage and lots of trauma to work through. this past year and a half has been HARD as fuck and I’ve swung wildly between trying to ignore everything and burying myself in trying to figure out what went wrong. problem has been that its infected every part of my life; I panic when I run into anyone who hurt me and my friends during that time, the most innocuous things remind me of the worst of these years and can send me into fits of crying, I’m plagued by thoughts of inadequacy and blaming myself for everything that happened, the works. ALL OF THIS EXPLANATION TO SAY yesterday was the start of a new chapter. it was the final competition of my first season teaching cymbals. it’s been a great experience and I’ve had the best students in the world, so I was really sad to see it end. over the second half of the day, I had three separate emotional conversations with my kids that honestly have given me the inner peace that I’ve been dreaming of since this bullshit started in the winter of 2019. before their final run, I wished them luck, told them I was proud of them, and thanked them for being such great students. they thanked me in return for being a great tech. after the awards ceremony, I got to bestow each of them with third place medals and reiterated how grateful I was for our time together. one of my kids went right for my tear ducts and told me that in their five years of marching, I was the tech that had taught them the most practical cymbal skills. another who joined after the start of the season said they hadn’t been sure if they were going to stay the whole season, but now, they planned on coming back for another. they all thanked me again and told me that I’d been an amazing tech after I gave them their medals and one of them gave me mine. our final conversation took place after our final goodbye meeting, and the two kids who aren’t graduating made sure that I would be back and said they’d be sad if I wasn’t their tech next year. I start crying after they left, which left the other two to find me crying in a corner of the room and hug me so that I would start crying even harder lol.

so the takeaway of these conversations and how they gave me peace. for the past year and a half, there’s been some part of me constantly questioning if I’m actually a good person or not; the logic being that half a dozen of my closest friends wouldn’t have turned on me for no good reason, that I had to have done something to hurt them for them to try so hard to destroy my reputation and tear me off an imagined pedestal. at the end of my junior year of high school, I was comfortably in a place where I liked myself and saw my value and hardly questioned my character. the events of the next marching season changed all of that and nothing had fixed it since. but in these conversations, these kids told me that I was good. that I had made a positive impact on their lives. that I had changed their lives to an extent, that I had broken a pattern of shitty techs for them, that despite most of MY past techs letting me down, that only made me work twice as hard to show my kids that I cared and put my all into never letting them down the way I have been. that the people who worked so hard to tear me down were wrong; I CAN do good and I DON’T deserve to be in a constant state of hating myself for things that were entirely out of my control because I proved over the course of several months that in the right circumstances, I can thrive. I can do good. the little voice in my head telling me that I’m a bad person has quieted over the past 24 hours. telling people how much they mean to you is difficult, terrifying, near impossible sometimes. but I did enough good for these kids that they all were incredibly open and honest with me about how much they appreciated me and how much they wanted to see me again and how I had made their season better. and it was overwhelming!! after a season of being told I was responsible for every bad thing followed by one where I was largely ignored and underestimated? this was so, SO healing. I was able to look kids in the eye and tell them I loved them without fear of judgement. they did the same. it’s not forgiveness or an apology from the people that hurt me, but it’s closure. I was able to move past the past and use it as motivation to do good. I hate the idea that trauma makes us grow, because I’m still mourning the me that I lost due to mine. I used to value the fact that I was so gentle and kind, but those two seasons made me shed much of that. I don’t think I’ll ever be that kind again, but a kid told me yesterday that I was the sweetest staff member they’d ever known. I almost cried on the spot, because it means I’m healing!! these kids brought my soft side out of retirement!! and I didn’t fear getting hurt again when I was being gentler!! and my attitude came entirely from treating these kids the way I wasn’t, the way I wished I had been. I finally found a shred of joy and a positive outcome from all that I was put through. and it feels so fucking good that I’m crying writing this. my bitterness has largely dissolved, because I have proof that I’ve grown past everyone and everything that hurt me. not everything will get better overnight. but I know for a fact that my past won’t continue to consume me as much as it has.

this is a rambly mess, so props to you if you made it to the end!! I just. I remembered why the fuck I love band at all and I’m grateful beyond words to have found closure and made peace with events that have chased me around for almost two years now. it’s like letting out a breath that I’ve been holding for that long with no reprieve. I miss my kids so fucking much already.

#bri speaks

2 notes · View notes

saharamae21 · 4 years

Text

In Uncharted Waters (Part 6)

Hey guys! Here’s chapter six! Let me know if you like the story line so far!!

Get Added To The Tag List!

__________________________________________

These violent delights have violent ends

A few weeks went by and the world seemed to fall apart around me. I went through each day with no motivation for anything. I barely got out of bed most days. Then school began to creep up slowly. Jasper left and dad got worse. He smiled even less than usual. He drank more. My mom began to worry about our well being, but she never stopped what I went through. When dad drank he yelled too. He screamed at me for what I couldn’t do. He threw things, but never hit me. I was scared though. I wasn’t comfortable at home anymore.

It was the night before the first day of school. I had just gotten home from Topper’s house and when I got in, my dad was at the kitchen table. I tried to slip upstairs, but my dad called me in. I knew it was better to talk to him now. It was better than the other outcome. I walked over timidly and held my breath. He asked me where I was. He told me I should’ve been at the hotel. He told me that I was disappointing him. I said nothing. Up until now it was better to stay quiet. Today was different though. He got mad and threw the scotch glass. I screamed and ducked. I covered my head as the bottle was next. Glass and booze shattered over me, impaling my arms and stinging. I was surrounded by pieces of glass. I couldn’t move without cutting my feet. The decorative bowl on the table was next. My mom came running in as I cried hysterically. She handed me some shoes and told me to find somewhere to stay tonight. I nodded and ran upstairs to grab anything I would need for tomorrow.

20 mins later, I found myself back at Toppers. I threw some rocks at his window in order to get his attention. He glanced out and ran down to see me. He saw the blood, the cuts on my arm. He knew why I was there.

“Are you okay?” he asked as he snuck me inside. I nodded. I sat on his bed as he went and got the first aid kit. I had never been in his room before. It was neater than I thought it would be. The walls were gray and sheets were navy. It wasn’t what I was expecting.

He came back and picked the glass out of my cuts with a pair of tweezers. He gave me a towel to bite down on as he sterilized the wounds. He got the glass out of my arms, but then came time for the cut I didn’t want to address. When my dad threw the bowl, I didn’t have enough reaction time. I closed my eyes and felt glass sink into my cheek. He picked up the tweezers and I grabbed his arm.

“I can’t leave the glass in there, Sav,” he said with sad eyes. Seeing him look at me like that triggered my tears. I broke down, trying not to alert anyone in the house that I was there. He pulled me into his chest and told me it was going to be alright. He picked up the tweezers one more time and held my hand as he removed the piece. He wiped it gently and gave my hand a squeeze.

I’ve never met anyone like Topper. He was sweet like a boyfriend, but neither of us wanted to be romantically involved. He knew everything about me, but he didn’t want to fix me. He was really the best friend I’ve ever had. He was staring at me and analyzing me. I got up from the bed, but he stopped me. He knew if I went out on my own, I wouldn’t be okay. He told me to stay, but I couldn’t get him into trouble like that. I assured him that I would see him bright and early for school.

I slipped out of his house unnoticed and got into my car. I drove to the boneyard and locked the doors. I shut off my lights and closed my eyes. The weather was hot so I had cracked the window, but I was still frying. I was about to sit up and get out of the car, but then there was a knock on the window. I nearly passed at as I saw Rafe’s face beaming back at me.

“Hey Savannah,” he said slyly. “Funny seeing you today.” “Y-you’re supposed to be in prison,” I said. I was shaking as he motioned me to get out. I shook my head and listened to his explanation. I listened to how Ward took the fall for him. How he wanted to make up for being a bad dad. Rafe had learned nothing.

“Are you having fun with Topper?” he asked me. “Are you enjoying it? Being a kook?”

“Leave me alone Rafe,” I warned.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “As long as you're friends with Topper, I won’t touch you. Tell the Pogues I’m coming for them though.”

I didn’t sleep that night. How could I? I sat in my car and contemplated the next move. I couldn’t face JJ. He hasn’t even tried to contact me since. He wanted nothing to do with me. I would see Kie at school tomorrow so that was my best option. I would have to swallow my pride and go up to her. I sighed as I changed into a nicer outfit. I drove to the high school and waited outside. A new year, yet I felt like nothing would change. I got out and walked into the hallway. People stared as I walked by. The cuts on my arms and face stood out. I pulled my shirt down to cover my side that was finally starting to return to its normal color. None of them said anything. I made myself small as I got to my locker. I opened the door and placed my bag inside, grabbing what I needed for the first period. I closed the locker and turned around. Topper was there. He looked as if he had seen a ghost.

“He said he saw you,” he said. I knew he had met Rafe. “He said you guys talked.” “Yeah,” I said. “Have you seen Kiara? I have to warn her.”

“I’ll do it,” he said. “Stop pushing yourself.”

I shook my head no at him. He would be too harsh. It would sound more like a threat than a warning. I needed to do it. I needed to swallow my pride. I walked calmly over to where Kiara stood. Her face tensed when she saw me.

“Are you okay?” she asked, looking at the cuts on me. I just nodded and avoided eye contact. “Savannah, if you would just talk to JJ and make up, we could all go back to normal. I don’t know what he said but don’t you think breaking up with him was rash?”

“Breaking up with him?” I asked. “It was his idea! I can’t even talk to you about this… I just came to tell you Rafe is out of prison.”

“What?” she asked. I stared back at her and explained how I ran into him last night. How he’s looking for revenge, redemption even. I couldn’t fathom what he wanted, but he looked so determined. “Well, we need a game plan.” “You need a game plan,” I said. “I’m no pogue. You guys didn’t want me around. I’ll handle Rafe and try to keep him away from you guys, but just lie low. Tell Pope I miss him and I hope he’s doing well. Look out for JJ for me.”

I felt my words catch in my throat as I turned away from her. I walked back to where Topper was and told him I was ready for first period. He rubbed my back as we walked and told me everything was going to be alright. I didn’t believe him though.

_______________________________________________

Tag List : Tag List : @jjmaybangme @thebendslikebendover @justcallmesams @jellyfishbeansontoast @obxmxybxnk @prejudic3 @jjtheangel @jiaraendgame @waywardbarbie @nataliahaslosthermind @talksoprettyjjx @bbymaybank01 @obbx-tings @agirlwholovescoffee @thoughtsofthestars

19 notes · View notes

lovelylogans · 4 years

Note

are we ever getting dee’s backstory in the wyliwf verse? or actually are we ever getting more dee logan interactions?

alliance

“all warfare is based on deception. hence, when we are able to attack, we must seem unable; when using our forces, we must appear inactive; when we are near, we must make the enemy believe we are far away; when far away, we must make him believe we are near.” —sun tzu, the art of war

dee usually tries to subscribe to some of the life lessons in the art of war. he has no idea why, today, he has flubbed it this badly.

(or: dee accidentally spills a secret, and those sanders’ might not be as bad as he thought.)

part of the wyliwf verse.

ao3 | read my other fics | coffee?

warnings: deceit, snake mentions, mention of a fight, allusions to an unhappy home life, let me know if i’ve missed anything

pairings: logince, moxiety

words: 4,515

notes: thank you, anon! this references this ask i answered a while ago about dee’s backstory; not super necessary to read, since i cover a lot of it in here, but it does give some general background that might be nice going into the story. takes place after the black parade. happy birthday, deceit!

patton’s not usually home when logan gets back from school.

if paton did see logan right after a school day, it was usually because patton went to virgil’s for a mid-afternoon hot cocoa/coffee, or if logan walked from the bus stop to the inn. they don’t meet at home right after school.

today was different, though. because today, logan was bringing home his partner to do a project for the gsa.

logan had been kicking himself for not getting more involved as soon as he’d set foot at chilton. so, in the aftermath of the “I AM NOT DOING ENOUGH TO GET INTO COLLEGE” frantic list-making session of winter break, logan had joined a slew of clubs and activities; the cross-country team, with the intent of joining the track team in the fall, as long as it didn’t interfere with the newspaper, chilton’s book club, chilton’s quiz bowl team, the science club, photographing for the newspaper, when mel needed him to, backstage crew for the spring play, the debate team, and, of course, chilton’s gay/straight alliance.

that hadn’t been around, when patton went to chilton. patton likes to think that means that things are way better now—well, he knows things are a better now, there’s been so much progress since patton was a teenager—but, well. to patton, chilton’s always going to have that memory, to him. of being excised and bullied because he was trans.

but. anyway. logan’s part of the gsa now. logan’s bringing home a designated partner from the gsa, to help make some posters to put up around the school. so patton has some ulterior motives for being home right now.

because, well, patton knows that logan’s mostly signed up for everything because it looks good on a college admission form, but. patton can’t help but think about logan’s not-super-hidden concern, the night before he’d started chilton—“what could he possibly be scared of? he’s the one staying at sideshire high. he’s always had other friends. he’ll probably make more friends now that i’m not going to be at school taking up all his time.”

and, well. involvement in things he’s interested in. which means other kids who are interested in the things he’s interested in. which means potential friends.

with roman as the sole exception, logan’s always been slow to warm to people—he’s very particular about who he lets to be close to him. but once he does warm to them, he’s fiercely, intensely loyal, defensive, a good friend. a fantastic friend.

so maybe patton’s hovering a little to make sure that things go well for logan. sue him. but he can be a cool dad, that’ll help, right? he can offer snacks! and supplies for poster-making! and… and more snacks!

so patton had been a whirlwind of activity, shoving most of the clutter out of sight so that the house looks slightly tidier, stacking outer layers on his coat rack that seems to wheeze under the pressure—patton practically has to tie things to it with his trans pride scarf, just to make sure that things wont fall down—and shoves dirty dishes in the dishwasher, out of sight, out of mind. he’ll wash them later.

he straightens up the bin of markers that he’d dug out of various desk drawers, and ensures that the glitter and glue are all grouped together, and that they’ve got pencils to sketch out a starting idea, because knowing logan, he’ll want to sketch out the idea first.

he runs through the list of names that he’s heard logan mention as he straightens everything out—maybe it’ll be kai, logan had mentioned him and his interest in video games. or there had been a set of boyfriends the grade above him, corbin and… and sloane, wasn’t it, maybe it’d be one of them! or maybe someone that logan hasn’t mentioned.

there’s the sound of a key at the door, and patton glances at his phone. right on time. he’d really expect nothing less, from logan, oh goD he should look like he’s being totally natural act natural patton!!!!!

so he quickly pivots and starts rattling around in the cupboards, and starts scooping coffee grounds into the coffee maker as he hears the door open, two thumps of backpacks hitting the ground, a mutter of “you can take your shoes off here” from logan.

“hey, kiddo!” patton calls, and a mumble of “my dad” from logan, and then the sound of two pairs of socked feet approaching.

“i wasn’t sure if you wanted some coffee too, so i figured i could ask you and your—“

he pivots, and the word “guest” dies on his tongue.

because, standing in yellow socks in the midst of his kitchen, with his strange, sneakily altered version of the chilton uniform, looking supremely uncomfortable, is dee slange.

the same dee slange that has been logan’s de-facto rival at chilton. the same dee slange that told logan he’d never catch up to the rest of his class. the same dee slange that goaded someone into hitting his son. that dee slange.

this is the worst outcome for “logan could be bringing home a potential friend!”

patton swallows, setting aside the scoop of coffee, and glances at logan.

“we were randomly assigned people to get to know them better, since it’s the start of the new semester,” logan says, a brusque explanation.

“right,” patton says. “okay. um. hi.”

“hi,” dee says, voice tight, tilting up his chin.

“do you want some coffee?” patton says stiffly.

a long pause. “sure.”

“right then,” patton says, and turns to the coffee machine.

dee slange. dee slange! god, it probably is a good thing that he’d decided to hover, because honestly if logan and dee had had to work alone patton probably would have come home to the house in shambles.

but he has to be polite, patton tells himself. so patton wracks his brain for his (probably outdated) etiquette lessons, and, once he gets the coffee machine going, he turns, leaning back against the counter.

“it is dee, right?” he checks. “i’d hate to be calling you something that you don’t particularly want to be called. is it short for something?”

“it’s dee,” he says. he doesn’t answer the other question. he’s busy glancing around the kitchen.

right, patton figures. time to move to the next small-talk topic.

“your grandmother’s friends with my mom,” patton tells dee. “evelyn, right? i always liked her.”

honestly, a lot of his mom’s friends had been a wild gamble, if he told them he was trans, and evelyn had probably taken it best out of all of them. that had been enough to earn his affection, even if evelyn’s general kindness hadn’t done that already.

dee’s dad, on the other hand… well, he’d been a flip side of that coin, but so had a lot of people, back then.

but dee smiles, ever so slightly, at the mention of his grandmother, so patton figures he hasn’t made any major social missteps.

yet.

“yes,” dee says, refocusing from where his eyes had been briefly fixed somewhere beyond patton, back toward the entry hall. “she’s doing well. i’ll tell her you said hello.”

another long pause. patton clears his throat, tapping his fingers on the counter, before he says, “how was school?”

“fine,” logan says, with a slight grimace.

“there was that, um. the thing in latin today, right?” patton says. “the recitation thing? tempora cum causis Latium digesta per annum lapsaque sub terras… i can’t remember any more.”

frankly, it’s a miracle he can’t. logan’s been reciting the first part of ovid’s fasti for the past week. he was pretty sure “scilicet arma magis quam sidera, Romule, noras, curaque finitimos vincere maior erat” would be running around in his head for a month, since logan had been chanting in his room like he was conducting some arcane ritual.

logan scowls, a dark look flitting across his face even as he finished patton’s line, “ortaque signa canam. yeah, that was today.”

“and?” patton prompts.

logan scowls. “he thought my pronunciation was over-rehearsed.”

“over-rehearsed?” patton says. “i mean—it would be, wouldn’t it? it’s not like you walk around and latin just casually tumbles out of your mouth.”

“precisely,” logan says.

“the man is an idiot,” dee says, brusque, turning his focus back again—patton didn’t think he’d done that bad of a job, tidying things up in there.

“i—well, now,” patton says, unsure of exactly how to step but he’s a dad it’s practically an instinct to instill manners, “don’t be mean.”

“no, he’s right,” logan says, looking at dee thoughtfully. “he is an idiot. he forgot to teach us the imperative verb tense and only remembered when all of us got it wrong on the imperative-centric quiz.”

dee rolls his eyes, the yellow one glinting. “i nearly forgot about that. my god, did the man get hired just because he plagiarized some old myths from percy jackson during the job interview?”

“those are greek,” logan says, “unless you’re referring to the later series.”

“my point,” dee says, “you cannot deny that charleston is a simpleton, look at the way he handled the moreno/watts situation.”

patton blinks. “what moreno/watts situation?”

logan also looks confused, but really the only way he can tell is because patton is his dad and knows when he’s covering up an emotion. well. most of the time. some of the time. more than most other people, let’s go with that one.

dee sighs, put-upon, before he says, “janey watts and sarah moreno were both taken to our esteemed headmaster’s office yesterday because mr. medina caught them about to claw each other’s eyes out in the alcove near the hidden rear staircase of the senior’s lounge. when attempting to discover what was wrong, mr. charleston’s first guess on what they were fighting about was that they were fighting over the same boy.”

logan allows his confusion to show. “but janey watts is a lesbian.”

“yes,” dee says, “and now you can see one of the many reasons why charleston is a simpleton.”

patton sighs. “well, charleston’s always been… a product of his time?” he says, and tries to elaborate. “you know, he backed up giving me a month of detention once because i refused to respond to my chosen name and pronouns.”

dee’s eyes darken. “bastard,” he spits out, filled with more venom than patton was expecting.

“hey, now,” patton says, even as startled as he is with… that. it’s not like dee and patton are particularly close, to warrant this level of defensiveness. well, patton guesses he’s in the gsa, so it makes sense that he’d be defensive of trans rights. “i could bust out the swear jar.”

“you’ve never had a swear jar,” logan says.

“i could start,” patton says.

logan turns to dee. “i didn’t know you were friends with janey watts.”

“oh, i’m not,” dee says, and then, matter-of-fact, “she thinks i’m a slimy jerk with no morals and who would sell out his own grandmother if it meant getting further ahead.”

patton feels a little stab of hurt, the way he usually does whenever he hears someone talk bad about themselves.

“then how did you know what charleston said?” logan says, and hey, good point! but logan’s always been more observant than him.

“oh, please,” dee says. “logan, you’re a journalist, you should know that we all have our own sources.”

“in the headmaster’s office?”

dee shrugs. “to secure ourselves against defeat lies in our own hands, but theopportunity of defeating the enemy is provided by the enemy himself.”

“sun tzu,” logan says. “art of war. you could do with the seem humble part.”

“but you’re already so filled with conceit,” dee says, and patton’s about to burst in with a hey now, but logan just shrugs.

“i know myself,” logan says.

“so you can win all battles?” dee says. “i didn’t know you read had an interest in ancient chinese literature.”

“mostly just that one,” logan says. “do you have an interest in ancient chinese literature?”

“mostly just that one,” dee parrots. “shall we get started?”

“may as well,” logan says.

“you kids want coffee while you do that?” patton says. “oh, and would you mind if i did my homework, too?”

“for your business degree,” dee surmises, and really, patton probably shouldn’t be surprised that he knows that, but he’s surprised anyway, darn it. “fine. it’s your house.”

so patton pours everyone some coffee and sets out cream and sugar, since he doesn’t know how dee takes his coffee, before he gathers up his own homework and settles in, listening absentmindedly as the boys sort through various options that’s been offered to them.

dee, it turns out, milks and sweetens his coffee to a frankly absurd degree—patton wouldn’t be surprised if dee would be met with a few mouthfuls of sugar-sludge at the bottom of his mug—and picks his way through snacks, eating them so swiftly and unnoticeably that patton doesn’t realize it until he goes for a pretzel and realizes the bowl is near-empty.

“i don’t suppose you want to do the ‘how i knew i was gay’ one,” dee says briskly. they’ve sorted through most of the list—this is the last suggested poster theme option—and then they’ll narrow down their yeses.

“certainly not,” logan agrees. “there isn’t particularly much to tell, anyway. boys were always just… pretty.”

“one boy,” patton murmurs slyly, grinning down at his homework even as logan half-heartedly stamps on his foot.

“not much for me, either,” dee says. “girls always had cooties, and i always knew i was a boy, so—“

everyone at the table freezes. and then things start to click.

the altered, strange uniform, as if to say look here, look directly here and nowhere else—hadn’t patton practically lived in too-baggy chilton sweaters, to hide his chest and later his binder from anyone who could have possibly seen it?

dee’s continuous glances toward the entry hall—not just at the clutter, but at patton’s trans pride scarf on display.

dee was short, and patton had been too—patton hadn’t even been 5′3″ before he started t on a more consistent basis, after logan was born.

dee for short, and nothing else—an unusual name, but it wasn’t like he could throw any stones with a name like patton, could he?

dee’s face shuttering in too-great anger, at the news that charleston had given patton detention for sticking up for himself—because he’d had experience with that, maybe?

and then:

patton thinks, oh.

as he stares at dee’s yellow-gloved fingers, curling into fists, he thinks: you’re like me.

the lashing out at other people. the isolating himself. the particular taste in clothes. the new name. the upper-class society. the potential clashing with parents.

oh, oh, oh.

if it weren’t for how perfectly, perfectly still dee was, patton could almost believe that he came out on purpose.

“okay,” patton says, when he realizes it’s probably been a too-long pause. “hey, it’s okay. me too, you know? we won’t say anything if you don’t want us to.”

dee dips his head in a nod, tongue darting out to lick his lips.

“right,” he says hollowly, before he clears his throat and tries for his usual, arrogant tone. “of course.”

“we won’t,” logan agrees, and frowns. “i’m your academic rival, not some asshole that would out you without your consent.”

it’s at that that dee relaxes, fists unclenching. he smooths his hands over the poster.

“right,” he says, and clears his throat. “fine, then.”

patton hesitates, before he says, tentatively, “your grandma was really cool about it, when i came out. back in the day.”

dee’s lip quirk up, and patton knows he’s said the right thing.

“yeah,” dee says. “i mean, i can’t really remember it, it was back when i got adopted—”

“you’re adopted?” patton asks.

dee gives him an almost patronizingly amused look, gesturing to his dark skin, the vitiligo on his cheek. “yes, that’s such a shock, i’m sure, because my parents definitely match my coloring.”

patton flushes. “well, i’ve never met your mom.”

dee mutters something like what a blessing for you, and patton feels a flare of worry that he can’t really expand upon before dee continues, “yes, i’m adopted, from haiti. i was… i don’t know. four, five. i can’t remember it very well. but grandmother’s… yeah. grandmother’s the best.”

it’s the most fond patton’s ever heard him sound, and, from the look on logan’s face, it might be for him, too.

“i might try and get coffee with her soon,” patton says, casual. “and if, you know. if you want advice about, um. this. just let me know. yeah?”

dee’s eyebrow quirks at him, and he gives him a look full of quintessential teenage amusement and, potentially, embarrassment.

patton can relate. he was the same, a lot of the time, whenever people offered advice or help when he first came to sideshire.

well. maybe he was less sassy about it.

“can we focus on the project?” logan says tiredly.

“what, are you jealous you can’t contribute to the discussion about various nicknames for testosterone?” dee says.

patton grins. “the testoster-zone.”

“the t-party,” dee offers.

“ooh, good one,” patton says. “um—”

“can we please focus on the project?” logan says, more pointedly.

dee rolls his eyes, but turns back to his poster.

patton tries to focus on his homework, but he just can’t help it, and—

“anti-cis-tamines.”

“dad,” logan groans, and patton and dee share an amused glance, and—

well. maybe dee wasn’t the worst potential friend that logan could have brought over.

⁂

this place might as well be the twilight zone.

dee has his bowler hat on, and logan’s tall enough that they’re probably at a decent angle that he can’t tell that dee is looking around everywhere he can.

if only dee had managed to shake him off—but mr. sanders (”please, it’s patton, mr. sanders is my father!”) had insisted that either logan or patton walk dee back to the bus stop and, well, honestly, logan was the lesser of two evils.

not that mr. sanders is evil. he seems removed from that. too removed, if you get dee’s drift. no one could possibly be that deeply nice. there had to be something going on there. a ploy to get people to trust him, or something. the defenseless little puppy defense, or something. playing sweet and kind until it suits him.

even as he’s thinking this, something in his brain refuses to let it click into place. dee shakes it off. he’ll investigate later—whether it’s an opossum defense or a ploy or something—there’s too much to see here.

it’s like a group of tv set designers got together and thought, right, what are all the clichés of a tiny small town, added some overgrown ivy and picturesque worn red brick, and the entire place reeked of domesticity. he means, really, who even has a town center gazebo? dee’s seen flyers advertising for a twenty-four-hour dance-a-thon. for charity. “costumes and periodwear encouraged.” what kind of periodwear did one wear for a twenty-four-hour dance-a-thon?

the buildings have those twinkly lights all around it. the streetlights are wrought iron instead of the stark poles that are near the streets of his neighborhood. there is a community garden. there is a punnily named cat-themed store.

seriously. what planet is this?

they get to the bus stop.

(also—the bus? what was this, the middle ages?)

“right, then,” dee says. “you’re bringing the posters tomorrow?”

logan nods his head in assent, hands stuck in his pockets. apparently, that’s not a clear enough hint, but his research shows that logan doesn’t respond very much to subtleties.

“you can go,” he adds, bluntly.

logan shakes his head. “i’m just going to go to the diner for dinner, anyway, and not being there means that my dad can get sappy with virgil without my bearing witness. and besides, my dad would kill me for leaving you here alone.”

dee stares at him. “you do realize the likelihood of someone attacking me here is approximately on the same level as greedo being the one who shot first?”

logan blinks. “you’re a star wars fan?”

dee shrugs a shoulder, before he says, “more when i was a kid. i’ve got three snakes named—”

“rey, finn, and poe?” logan says, with a twist of his mouth.

“luke, leia, and han,” he corrects. “i said when i was a kid, sanders.”

“kid is an unclear term,” logan says. “for instance, i could argue that your viewpoint on the superior space western is childish, since the clearly superior space western franchise is—”

dee scoffs before he can finish his sentence. “of course you’re a trekkie.”

“so you admit it,” logan says, and dee rolls his eyes.

“i was just narrowing down the number of popular space westerns, spock.”

“i prefer data,” logan says.

another pause, before:

“snakes?” logan asks.

“garters, all three,” dee says. he hesitates, before he says, “luke and han are trans.”

“i wondered,” logan says. “since snakes can often eat each other, but if all three snakes were, ah—“

“afab?” dee provides.

“right, yes.” logan says. “may i see?”

“i don’t have them on me,” dee says, before he says, “yeah, all right” and digs out his phone, swiping for the latest photo of his snakes.

it turns out to be the one of grandmother, amused, looking just enough off-camera that it’s clear it isn’t candid, wearing leia as a necklace, luke and han in her upraised hands. logan smiles at the photo. well, smiles as much as he’s capable of smiling. dee thinks that the whole i prefer data thing might be a cover-up for the fact that logan might actually be a robot.

“the checkered one is leia, the one with the yellow stripe is luke, and the one with the brown stripe is han.”

“nice,” logan says. “and that’s your grandmother?”

“yes,” dee confirms, tucking his phone away.

“do you spend much time with her?” logan says.

“frequently,” dee says, and lies, “she lives closest to chilton, it just makes the most sense.”

well, the first part of that sentence isn’t a lie. it’s just that that isn’t the whole truth.

but partial truths are what he works best with, and he notes that logan nods, seeming to accept it as a whole truth, before his eyes turn elsewhere.

dee follows his gaze.

the window’s lit, gleaming softly, a wide window that allows a view.

there’s a boy in there, alone. he’s shirtless, and wearing red leggings typical of a dancer. even at the distance they’re at, dee can see his muscles straining as he moves, graceful and limbs elongated as he reaches and spins, slowly, achingly slowly, everything so precise down the slightest twitch of his finger, and logan is staring, eyes gone soft and awed and sweet, and—

“didn’t realize i was boring you that much,” dee comments, even if he is a little relieved that logan’s attention is off the question of his home life and on his pretty dancer. “that’s the boytoy, isn’t it?”

logan looks at him, eyes sharpening. “roman’s my boyfriend.”

“right, right,” dee says, waving it off. he’s distracted, good. “so that’s still a thing, then?”

“yes,” logan says. “that’s still a ‘thing.’”

he doesn’t use airquotes, but it’s a near thing. it’s basically implied in his tone of voice.

“do you like him a lot?” dee asks.

“i love him,” logan says simply—as if it’s a fact, indisputable, absolute.

dee nods, turning his attention back to the bus stop. it should be coming soon.

“are you going to tell him?” dee says abruptly and oh, now he’s done it, losing control of his mouth just once today isn’t enough, he really needs to make himself look like a fool, doesn’t he?

logan turns his attention more fully back to dee. “no.”

dee scoffs. “right.”

“i won’t,” logan says. “really. roman would understand, he’s—well, clearly he’s gay too, he understands the importance of coming out on your own terms.”

dee glowers at the ground, scuffing his shoe over the cement, before—

“my dad and i were effectively homeless until i turned six.”

dee pauses, and turns to look at logan.

logan isn’t looking at him. he’s got his hands clasped behind his back, still staring ahead, as if he’s keeping an eye out for the bus.

“my dad worked at the inn—he’s manager, now, but back then he was a housekeeper. he worked his way up. we could only afford to live in the poolhouse because the manager, maria, gave him a major cut on rent. i was bullied about it, when i was a child. my dad doesn’t know that.” a pause, and then, “my grandparents don’t know about the poolhouse, either. they thought we lived in the inn proper and got an apartment much sooner than we actually did. they’re paying for me to go to chilton. it comes with the condition of going to their house for weekly dinners.”

dee stares at him. “why would you tell me that?”

logan shrugs, and turns just his head to look at dee.

“i know you’re trans, you know where i lived and that i can’t afford schooling,” logan says simply. “if either of us feel tempted to let it slip…”

“then we know the other one has something in hand,” dee finishes slowly, not admiringly. “mutually assured destruction.”

it’s a sound strategy, really. logan takes the assumption that dee won’t listen to promises, and uses a shortcut. it’s a dangerous move, a gamble. not one he’d have expected, from logan. this day’s just full of surprises.

“precisely,” logan says. “for whatever reason, i don’t think you hold very strongly to the sense of the honor of giving someone your word.”

that last part is said in the closest tone to sarcastic that he thinks he’s ever heard logan use.

“you’re right, i don’t,” dee says, and swallows. “homeless?”

“i didn’t really put the pieces together until i was older,” logan says. “it still doesn’t seem like it, to me. we were happy.”

dee wonders what that’s like.

“well,” logan says, peeking down the way. “i think i hear the bus coming. i’ll bring the posters tomorrow.”

“right,” dee says. “so. are you going to suggest we dissolve the academic rivalry, then?”

logan hums, and tilts his head. “you know, you’ve been my only real competition since i showed up at chilton.”

dee does not preen.

“we’re the only ones who’ve ever challenged each other. without this, we’ll get lazy.”

“i’ll achieve nothing, i’ll become my mother,” dee quips, and logan smiles, just a little.

“right,” logan says. “so.”

dee pauses, before he says, “allies?”

logan smiles. “allies.”

as the bus rolls up, logan offers his hand, and dee shakes it, once. logan knows full well that he doesn’t hold to the honor of giving someone their word, but it still feels like they’re making a deal, anyway.

so dee clambers onto the bus, and settles in a window seat.

and if he smiles and turns details over his head the whole drive back, well. it’s not like anyone will know.

#Anonymous #ask #my fic #the sideshire files #deceit

62 notes · View notes

prorevenge · 5 years

Text

But I Don’t Even Have a Contract!

When I was 16, I had a stint as a small-time social media star on Twitter — not because I’m particularly interesting or anything, but for two reasons: a) I got on Twitter really early in 2007 when it was way easier to get followers and engagement due to the site being less noisy and more ‘stupid’ in terms of algorithms and b) I stood out from a lot of other minor Twitter stars because I didn’t let it get to my head; while a lot of them were egotistical and haughty, I followed everyone back, turned ‘haters’ into friends instead of retaliating, etc.

Through this fleeting fame, my former boss found me. He said he was setting up a regional media studio to help small- and medium-sized local businesses with their social media marketing, and he planned to eventually franchise the business into other cities. He hired me on the basis of my large social following (81,000 followers at the time). Obviously, having a large social following doesn’t automatically mean you know how to market businesses on social media, but I adapted and studiously researched how to do my job properly.

My boss didn’t come from a creative background or a marketing role — he came from a property background, and was just sort of winging it in finding an alternative source of income after the housing crash. Being as young as I was at the time, I didn’t really think about any of this stuff. The outcome was that I never received any training, had no real guidance in what I was doing, and was generally left to my own devices. Younger me thought it was great! I saw it as ‘freedom’, but looking back, I realize it was far too much freedom.

The side effects of this disparity between my social media skills and his inability to communicate creative ideas manifested themselves as people trying to cut past the business and come straight to me, asking me directly as an individual whether I’d do work for them rather than give my boss the money. I was respectful (or naïve) enough to open up to my boss about this, and that’s when things started getting a little bit manipulative. He told me I could go my own way or remain part of a business that’d soon be growing across the country.

Fair enough, I thought. So I stayed, and one year in (I was 17/18 at this time) I realized that managing brands via social media had naturally morphed me into something of a graphic designer. A lot of my time was spent creating eye-catching visuals in Photoshop, Illustrator, InDesign etc. and so I suggested to my boss that we expand our media offering to include logo, graphic, and print design, and visual branding consultancy. Again, I received no training — I worked all day and self-studied late into the night.

This pattern snowballed over the years. By the time I was 21, I was a social media manager, visual branding designer, copywriter, photographer, video editor, and web developer — all skills I developed independently with no input or guidance from my boss. The business was still operating in just one city, and my boss had started spending less and less time in the office. I still didn’t realize this wasn’t particularly normal, until clients who came to the office to meet me constantly asked where he was.

One day, a client went as far as to say: “You’re basically running the business at this point!” It was a huge ‘glass shatter’ moment for me, and I suddenly realized that, yeah, although I wasn’t actually managing the business and its admin work etc., without me, there wouldn’t be a service or product to sell. What’s more, my wages hadn’t gone up, even though my ‘this is great, I have so much freedom!’ mind-set had motivated me to continue working on stuff related to the business when I got home.

As I was nearing 22, the owner of the building where the business’ office was located asked me if I’d help him fix his computer (it was just running really slowly because he hadn’t managed his files very well). Not really thinking of it as work, I agreed, and headed into his office after work to help him out. As luck would have it, my boss walked in to hand over that month‘s rent, so he saw me there. He looked surprised, but didn’t comment — he just gave the dude the rent and left the building.

The next day, my boss wasted no time in probing me about what I was doing. He was speaking to me like a cop would speak to a suspect, asking me how long I’d been doing work for the landlord, what kind of work I was doing, why I hadn’t folded the work into the business, etc. I explained I was just fixing up his computer, and he leapt into a lecture about how we needed to keep all work inside the business, or else we would never be able to grow into other cities.

I turned 22. I’d been there for five years, my wages hadn’t gone up, I wasn’t allowed to do any work outside of the business, I hadn’t witnessed any of the growth I’d initially been promised, my boss was only in the office 25% of the time, and I saw him uploading Instagram Stories from him lunching, working out at the gym, walking his dogs, taking day trips etc. while I was in the office managing everything. A lot of the time he didn’t even warn me he’d not be in the office. It became the norm that if he didn’t turn up, I’d be running everything for the day. Because I’d grown with the business from my youngest working age, I didn’t know any different, so all of this felt completely normal to me. And because I worked all day and all night and had no firm social life, I never got any outside perspective, until one day, on a whim, I opened up to the landlord about it. He hadn’t even realized I was the one doing all the work — he figured it was split fairly 50/50. He said the amount of work I was producing was on the same level as an agency with three or four employees.

I started managing all of the branding, social media, and website maintenance for the landlord’s business, but didn’t broadcast that news to anyone. As I was nearing the age of 23, I met my now-fiancée, a perfectly feisty woman who, as soon as I told her about my situation, passionately advised I start my own media studio. This is where I entered the ‘long breakup’ period of my job, where I got increasingly depressed at work and physically felt my productivity slow to a near-halt. My boss noticed, but never talked to me about it face-to-face. He started sending me irritated emails full of swear words demanding explanations for why I hadn’t delivered certain work by certain times and dates, while he was off sunning at the beach. It was like someone had pulled out his cork and let all the toxicity out in one torrent. My girlfriend hated him, and gently pushed me to the point where I felt like I was ready to confront him about the dead end we’d wound up in.

I asked a few of my friends about it, just to get a wider set of viewpoints on how I should go about it. They asked me things like, what does your contact say about you leaving the company and working with other businesses independently? Legal stuff, y’know. And that’s when I realized my lack of training over the past six years had also left me ignorant of the formalities of employment — I never had a contract! The real kicker was, I never had employee liability coverage either. My boss wasn’t even doing the admin stuff properly.

Obviously, that meant he also had no control over me when it came to contracts, so I literally just walked in (without my laptop — I’m now just realizing he never provided equipment either, yikes) and sat there waiting for him to arrive. Thankfully, it was one of the days he decided to turn up. He went and sat down in his chair, asked me where my laptop was and why I wasn’t working etc., and so I just straight-up told him that I was leaving the company to start my own media venture.

He laughed a patronizing laugh and simply said, “Alright, good luck then.” Part of me felt like this was normal, because he was usually quite cold like that, but another part of me knew that there should have been some sort of emotion and deeper discussion in that moment. I wanted to say, “so that’s it, then?” to try to flesh the talk out, but that really was it. He just turned to his computer and began typing away as if I wasn‘t there. So I just turned around and left, went home, and that was it.

He did WhatsApp me a message later that day (all his caring and considerate communication came through digital means — perhaps he hired someone on a zero-hour contract to inject emotion into his texts?) asking if we could meet at the pub for a proper goodbye. And we did. It was a nice gesture, but it felt very awkward and forced, as if he’d spoken to someone about it and they’d coaxed him into doing it. He shook my hand, wished me good luck (much more genuinely this time), and we parted ways.

Three months later, I’d tripled my income as a freelancer. All of those clients who’d try to come to me directly over the years — it was like a floodgate had opened, and they all came rushing to me. I hadn’t told them I’d left, but obviously, they realized it themselves when they went to the office and I was never there. I felt bad about ‘stealing’ clients away from my former boss, but what was I supposed to do? I couldn’t just abandon the people I’d been working with just because of morals. That‘d be immoral, if anything. I continued working with the landlord and even travelled with him a few times to build my solo filmmaking portfolio by documenting his brand’s work across the UK, including his talks at business seminars. We developed a very close working relationship, to the point where just my work for his company was earning me more than all the work I did for my former boss. He started sharing a few bits of gossip with me about how my old boss had begun paying rent later and later. I figure perhaps his cash flow had something to do with it, but the landlord also showed me an email my old boss had written in which he’d expressed his anger at the landlord for ‘colluding’ with me and pushing me to leave his company.

The further I distanced myself from the company, the more I realized how toxic he behaved towards everyone he came into contact with. I could never see it from the inside. Every time I checked the old company’s website, a new service had been removed, because it wasn’t something he could offer anyone anymore.

Back in November 2018, the landlord told me that he was kicking my old boss out of the office after he failed to pay rent for three months. A few weeks after that, the landlord proposed that we go into business together to create a separate media studio solely focused on the industry his business operates within. He said that we’d take the old company’s office once my former boss had moved out, and that I could also use that office for my own freelance venture, free of charge.

One year after leaving, I’ve taken 25% of my old boss’ clients, occupied his office, and quadrupled my income.

There’s a part of me that feels guilty about all of this — he’s a guy who didn’t quite know what to do after the housing market crashed and tried something out which didn’t go too well. But at the same time, I can’t feel too bad for someone who I believe took advantage of me for half a decade. If you treat someone with disrespect, you end up with very little. If you treat someone with respect, they give you a free office and offer to start a new business with you.

TL;DR: Boss never did anything properly — no training, no contracts, no insurance, very little respect, not much guidance, empty promises about business growth, etc. Everything I learned independently resulted in me quadrupling my income and taking over his office within a year of leaving his company.

(source) story by (/u/Adingding90)

#prorevenge #by /u/Adingding90 #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #last10

333 notes · View notes

fmdjiseok · 4 years

Photo

date: april 1st, late evening desc: set in between his interactions with jiae and jiah at the art exhibition, basically the explanation for his somber mood and a quick introduction to the father-son dynamics wc: 1101 notes: brief mention of yoona and hyeju's family

spring. new life.

jiseok knows little about art. tidbits of information he picked up here and there, things he learned from and for his sister, who has always been the artistic one of the two. what he knows is that a good businessman judges art by its market price, by how many people would gather before it, champagne flutes in hand, and marvel at its excellence – but jiseok is no longer that; a businessman. it's high time he opened his eyes to things that need no rhyme nor reason, he thinks, to self-expression and a freedom he would never know.

jiseok does not know how to find meaning in brush strokes, beauty in colors and angles, and gets lost in them anyway.

spring. new life.

maybe it's time for him to try to start anew too, he catches himself thinking as soon as he parts ways with his sister, just once more – one more second chance. with silent determination, he steps outside and rounds a corner to pull his phone from his pocket and dial a number he hasn't called in months – his father's.

it's naive of him to think that things have changed, that anything has changed, and he knows it, but if he gives up on hope, what will he have left? so he hopes that his father might grow more lenient with age, or so fed up with him that he simply decides to hire a professional manager and give up on his only son, hopes that he'll forget about the existence of his daughter completely in the long time those two don't speak or contact each other – hopes.

his father answers in his business tone of voice, cool and professional, and were he any more ignorant, he might have thought that meant that he didn't know who's calling, but jiseok has dealt with this too often to fall for it – he's only trying to throw him off, lull him into a false sense of security. it's a strategy, it's manipulation – typical.

“why are you calling?”, he asks when jiseok fails to make his motives known within the first few seconds, since they're both well aware they don't contact each other when there's no reason to. why is he calling, then?

“i just wanted to check in with you, since i'll be busy from now on.” not exactly the truth, as the amount of schedules he has have been the same for a while, on average – and besides, it's not like they're in frequent contact, even if he has the time to.

“are you finally coming to your senses?”, is his father's response and jiseok has to bite back a sigh. of course. of course they can't have a single normal conversation without the topic of what he should be coming up – after all, it had never mattered who or how he was, only what he wasn't, and the answer is always this: good enough. he isn't good enough.

“i'm not sure what you mean.” jiseok plays ignorant, because it's easier – it's easier than explaining that his head has never been clearer and his decisions counted just the same, that he'd never not known what he was doing. you raised me to be calculating, to weigh all possible outcomes of the actions i take, he wants to say, i did that. i did what was best. where did arguing ever get him, though? for someone so focused on logic, his father has never been good at listening to reason or accepting criticism. what counts is his word and his word only – and jiseok begins to regret having called.

“you'll be thirty soon. what are you doing?” i'm living, jiseok thinks, for the first time in my life. “my contract is still valid, father. please remember our agreement.” it's easier to talk to him on the phone, when the childish fear his father still instills in him is far away – it's a remnant of a time he didn't know how to fight back, a time he didn't dare to. sometimes, he wonders if it's any different now. it feels like he's stuck in a hostage situation and the only thing he can offer in exchange is his life – zugzwang. how could he not give it up, and willingly?

“i'm not getting any younger either.” “is there a problem with your health?” “no. no, there isn't, but you could be married by now. i could be a grandfather.” “and you will be, one day.” “yes? it doesn't seem like it. are you still meeting that lovely young lady – what's her name again?” “yoona?” “yes, her. when are you finally going to make a move?” “we'll be going on our scheduled meeting soon, as per usual.”

it's a long back and forth on the same old topics – all the expectations jiseok has failed to meet, and how frustrating it is that he isn't even making an effort to fix his wrongdoings, to make up for his shortcomings. the usual – and the fact that jiseok is so used to it that it doesn't faze him much anymore only serves to aggravate his father further.

“and here i thought you were better than the min family's boy,” his father says and that, jiseok wasn't prepared for. it hits him like a blow to the stomach, forces the air out of his lungs that he can only breathe back in shakily. “but i'm beginning to think that we might be better off if you did the same thing.”

a rational part of his brain remains active, telling him that his father is angry, that he isn't thinking – but another one knows that he's right, knows that the fact that jiseok is here right now, doing what he wants, is making life more difficult for his father than it would be, were he gone. instantly, he's trying to think of reasons he should be here, tries to justify his existence like he needs to convince his father he deserves it – like he needs to convince himself he does. back then, he swore he'd make the most of his life for the boy who lost his, for the boy who no longer could. is he doing that?

what is he doing? what should he be doing?

jiseok drops the hand holding the phone without answering. his head aches, and he goes back inside to do what he does best – pretend nothing has happened, and that everything's fine.

everything's fine. it's fine.

#chapter 1: growth #( this was sitting in my drafts for two whole weeks )#( and then i finished it after a night shift so..... it's not great )#fmdseoulspring #( queued )

1 note · View note

cinaminho · 5 years

Text

Before we run || K.SM.

♡ Group: Straykids

♡ Genre: Fluff ,, highschool AU ,, non idol

♡ Warnings: cRINGe,,

----- ×

Hypothesis// It's not there yet but it's something special, A special kinda 'somethin

Now it was Spring time, everything was blooming, from flowers in fields to fresh Fruits on trees. It was that time again for everything to be new, purified and unruined. That's the kind of Bond you had with Him, it was as fresh as lavender , not tainted by such things as problematic disagreements and distrust, those struggles came with being a couple which was something you and him, Seungmin , weren't. Sure a few intertwined fingers here and there maybe a peck on the cheek or two, add Flirting too, but nothing beyond such had progressed between you two.

Yes, you were labeless and saw no problem with it so of course neither did he. You both never asked questions , what would need to be asked anyway, nothing came to mind for you and perhaps not for him either.

Everything was free and all was not set in stone, though everything seemed be rushed with everyone else everything you touched or did was light which you basked in. Walking into your school's cafeteria the smell of Baked sweet breads, fruits, fresh cooked roast beef and sounds of loud laughter along with muffled chattering could be heard, carrying yourself through the sea of young Humans searching for a table with familiar faces since your distinct group of friends never sat at the same one, searching beyond body barriers and hair squinting as far as you could you finally found them at the corner near the back, squeezing your way through people just to get to your own set that you talked to on the regular bases.

Successfully making it through the crowd you headed over to your crew of friends sighing contently as you sat down with small creases in your cheeks from smiling, your friend, Kara, was the first to observe you once you sat down next to her "Why do you look as if you just got done skipping through a meadow of daisies?" Your mind couldn't process her words quick enough transitioning from Shock you spoke "Well, for starters, I'm alive..," Kara gestured for you to keep going "and that should be enough."

You smiled making Kara smack her lips at your seemingly uninteresting answer, "Be Real honey, who's happy to be living without a catch." A Male's voice chimed in one that belonged to Ruben, another friend of yours, Kara snapped her head in his direction "Well what a dark but intriguing way to look at things." You ignored the last two comments from your friends still wanting to know why Kara assumed that their was a specific reason behind your smile.

"Excuse me, but why does there have to be a hidden motive behind my smile?" Your tone had a hint of offense laced with your words.

"Its not that there has to be one it's just that we want it to be one." Kara explained noticing your discomfort , "Which is?" You urged further suspiciously, "We were hoping you and him had finally got together , y'know , you and Seungmin, it's clear you two are deeply intrigued by one another." Kara added.

You nodded your head as it all came together they knew you hated when they pushed for more in situations that had nothing to do with them which explained Kara's Semi guilty and timid tone when she spoke "I'm sorry!" She quickly added "I'm not." Rueben shrugged making both you and Kara stare at him bewildered but he wasn't phased by the deathly stares from the two of you, so he continued .

"Look no one wants to deal with the cliches and predictable tales, you'll eventually realize you like him but have been putting it off, blah blah, every other fanfiction. You guys do small things that couples do so might as well be one." Rueben's tone dragged along as he spoke to you both it was quiet as no one repomded not knowing what to say.

"You read fanfiction?" Kara laughed breaking the weird silence "From time to time." He smirked confidently, you looked between the two speaking back and forth Eyes trained on them but your thoughts were focused on Rueben's last statement, it hit like a bag of bricks thinking he may be right, i mean, Would Seungmin and you actually turn out like that?

"Ohhh you're thinking about it," Kara squealed pulling you back to the real world away from your thoughts "I'm sorry , what?"

"You're thinking about you and Seungmin!" She grinned "actually I'm th-"

"You are." Rueben deadpanned , the school's cafeteria Bell rung letting it be known that lunch was over and it was time to get back to class. "Just talk to him about it or hint at it, whatever, ease him into the idea." Kara suggested while getting up from the table "Don't be a cliche." Rueben whispered to you as he walked past making you attempt to slap his face away for taunting you.

"I don't care how desperate I get for love, I'll never be as cliche those Stories Rueben probably reads." You mumbled to yourself gathering your things before standing and handing off to class.

♡ ~ - ~ ♡

Seungmin waited at the last cement step for you against the flag pole, the stampede of students slowed down and you were one of the last to appear outside , he had been bright all day but you unintentionally made him even brighter without much notice , you were fixing a strap on your bag as you walked down the steps of your school "I didn't know you could do something while walking other than talking." A mocking Seungmin spoke up causing your eyes to search until you found him "I didn't know you were capable of being anything more than a pain to those around you." Seungmin frowned briefly as you walked past Him before catching up to you lending his hand out for you to grab, nothing foreign to you excepting his advance and colliding both of your delicate hands the walk was only silent for a few seconds

"So I think I'm going to have a schedule change." His statement made you look at him with much curiosity "Why , you seem to like most of your periods."

"More time with you is great as well." You hummed understanding, slowly analyzing his explanation all while Rueben's comment clashed in your brain , Don't be a cliche, you weren't going to be one, you would speak up just to get a glimpse of what he thought of you two becoming an exclusive love.

"Seungmin,"

"You won't get tired of seeing me more often, right?" He suddenly spoke

You Shook your head "Seungmin I need your opinion"

"I feel like we'll only get closer." He grinned happily up at the sky, once again, discarding your questions initiation.

"Seungmin." You said more urgently catching his attention, you took a deep shakey breath it was funny how within a few seconds you became unsure about wanting ask this important question but it had to be done if not now, when? "You can't deny that we do things that almost would make people assume that we're a couple , right ?"

Seungmin searched your eyes as you kept walking hand in hand as if he was asking you why the sudden question, this brought a bundle of nerves to trigger a minor faster speed in your heart rate. "I suppose if I payed attention, then yes." You subtly released the air you withheld in your lungs, "So it wouldn't be completely-"

"For the love of Christ, Y/n, did your friends say something to you about us becoming 'exclusive'." He groaned. You were shocked that he knew "Yeah how'd you know?" You smiled "Because mine have been on my back about the same thing for since Last Wednesday ." Your mouth formed an Oh shape silence crawled into the air between the two of you feeling that the question had been answered, for the most part, but you couldn't help wanting to ask him further.

"But is the idea so bad?" You blurted out shamefully, Seungmin laughed at your slight embarrassment "No." He simply said "Well so why don't we do it?" He hummed softly "Do what?" , "Date." You said playfully annoyed. "Well because we don't need to right now."

"Why not? Everyone else is."

He chuckled for a moment making you stare at him weirdly "See you just said the two key words, 'Everyone' and 'else' , we are not everyone else, we are Seungmin and Y/n we move at our own pace while everyone else is rushing we'll take our time so we'll last while others are running around like chickens with their heads cut off attempting figuring out where their relationships went wrong. I'm not leading you on but I'm also not rushing into us being official." He said all in one breath seemingly focused on getting you to understand, it was as if he'd been waiting to explain this to you. You were totally at a loss for words staring into his .

"Okay." You spoke softly not seeing how you could argue with that nor did you want to, Seungmin felt the need to explain further he stepped in front of you gently grabbing your other hand , a soft breath left his lips as he gathered his nerves to look at you so he could speak "Please do not doubt me enjoying the idea of us being an officially a couple, I love that idea and I'm well aware that we look like we're one already sometimes, that is what I'm working towards, but I see all these relationships that are being rushed into and failing and I don't want that same outcome for us, I know this sounds like a load of-"

"Seungmin!" You semi yelled to grasp his attention and stop his rambling as he gazed into your shining orbs "If I doubted you the first time you explained it I'd be gone." You giggled. "Oh thank God." He breathed out "I'm okay with taking things slow just as long as it ends up somewhere." You assured, "Great and it will! Like my dad says, we have to walk before we run, that was his motto for a few years while dating my mom , they took their time and still are but as husband and wife." Seungmin said proudly.

You felt your own smile appearing seeing this as a great moment to tease him "So wait, you're saying that in a few years we may be married if we take our time?" Your devilish grin appeared quickly after your question, Seungmin looked into your eyes searching for signs of bluff which he found as you fought to keep your laughter In "Ha Ha nice one , let's get you home." He sarcastically spoke pulling you along to walk again.

A/N ' The original title was different which would explain the hypothesis and was supposed to be longer but I accidentally cut the ending thinking I hit paste, so I was too lazy to rewrite it.

36 notes · View notes

emperorren · 5 years

Note

(1) I haven't been involved in the Rey discourse so maybe I'm not interpreting this correctly, so please bear with me - but it's always been clear to me that while Rey *is* morally right, her impulsiveness did get the better of her. And I don't think she's a bitch for it: it was a stressful situation, she had just gone through a lot of adrenaline, and it makes perfect sense with her background and her characterization. She wants Ben to stop the shooting on the Resistance - which again, I get,

(2) but the problem (for me at least) is that even if the narrative wants me to believe the morally right thing for Kylo would have been to do that, he can’t - for the simple and good reason that he’s just committed high treason, and ironically enough, to save Rey, not to mention that she got herself in that situation thanks to a poorly thought plan where she almost lost her life. Calling that off is signing his death warrant, for real this time. After that, it’s joining the Resistance (or what’s left of it) on Crait for a long, painful death, because neither of them has a way of knowing that Holdo is going to ram into the Supremacy. Kylo is aware of the chase and in what state the Resistance is - Rey is not. But for the sake of the argument, let’s say Rey and Kylo could have done something… with, um, the Force, to help the Resistance, and that Kylo says no just for the evulz and still tries to get Rey to be with him, I still think Rey handled the situation poorly?Not even in a sense “she should have said yes”, because again, I don’t blame her for saying no. I guess what makes me uncomfortable is that her reaction is very similar to how Luke reacted a few years ago, and Kylo sure interprets it that way. A scene where the two of them start screaming at each other and that ends with the same outcome would have been better - mainly because the way I perceive it is that Rey basically strikes straight into Kylo’s PTSD - involuntarily, but it does leavea bitter taste in my mouth, especially that the argument seems to be that “Rey did nothing wrong”, while the movie is all about failure, so I don’t see why Rey should be exempt of it. And I don’t want to see Rey on her knees, tbh - just thinking of that makes me gag - just a little acknowledgement that while impulsiveness might have worked on Jakku in order to survive, it’s not going to work all the time. And that’s Rey’s fatal flaw, in my opinion - and it almost was fatal in TLJ.

I dunno. Rey’s impulsiveness served Reylo well when she dumped Luke’s ass to run to Kylo, didn’t it?

My problem with this reading is that it basically validates Luke’s “this is not going to go the way you think” stance, and frames Rey’s urgency to show compassion to Kylo as a “fatal” flaw she needs to fix, which imo is all kinds of thematically wrong and messes up the subtext. Rey was NOT wrong to be impulsive, to want to act immediately to rescue the lost boy from his lifelong captor. Her instincts were not wrong—the circumstances were. If anything her impulsiveness, optimist thinking and even, allow me the term, ignorance of the complete ramifications of Ben’s fall (she only knows the tl;dr version of all the parties involved minus Leia) are what allowed her to discard all her preconceptions and open herself to Kylo so fully and earnestly in the first place. She saw a glimpse of Ben Solo and immediately ran with it—despite having NO idea of what it was like to live with Ben Solo and his growing darkness for 20+ years. Was she supposed to think this through, ponder the pros and cons of trying to redeem Ben carefully, consider the fact that maybe he wasn’t just *stolen away*, but also had ideological reasons to side with the FO, and that she needed to bring better arguments to the table to actually convince him? Probably. But I bet this would have paralyzed her just as it paralyzed Luke. Sometimes knowing all the facts and the nuances of a problem, being too deeply and personally involved with it, can prevent you from seeing a solution. And imo Rey was able to see it precisely because she’s essentially an outsider, unrelated to all this skywalker drama until two weeks ago.

Rey’s failure can be seen as the failure of the hero in the face of bigger circumstances than what she could handle at the moment. The fact that Kylo wasn’t wrong in not wanting to immediately run to the Resistance either adds nuance to their current conflict:

I guess what makes me uncomfortable is that her reaction is very similar to how Luke reacted a few years ago, and Kylo sure interprets it that way. A scene where the two of them start screaming at each other and that ends with the same outcome would have been better - mainly because the way I perceive it is that Rey basically strikes straight into Kylo’s PTSD

and that’s the tragedy of it, isn’t it? Rey does this because she was basically cornered into an either/or choice, and the result is that Kylo sees another person he loves raising a weapon against him.But judging from her face when the tug-of-war starts, she is perfectly aware of how this would look to Kylo, and it kills her.Still, she has to—Kylo was cornering her with an impossible choice, he had two sabers and she had none. Both Rey and Kylo’s actions contributed to the way the events precipitated, but neither was able to foresee it. The thing is—from a storytelling perspective, their personal conflict needs to be genuine and believable, and both have a right to perceive the other’s behavior as a betrayal.If you had it any other way, there would be no Crait, and it would be extremely difficult to set them up as “complicated enemies” for IX. But at the same time, both need to be able to eventually acknowledge—and forgive—each other’s motivations for acting the way they did.

But most importantly, for all you can see Rey’s impulsiveness as a mistake, she really did better than anyone else who still loves him: Luke didn’t try at all—didn’t even bother offering a clear explanation of what happened at the academy, just packed and left to go sulk on his hermit island; Leia keeps on holding hope but from a distance, in secret, while officially leading military attacks on Kylo; Han did reach out to him but it was too little and too late, and he didn’t think it through, either (did he consider Ben’s realistic possibilities to go home with him, when “home” is the Resistance?). Rey, at least, formed a connection with him, gave him a reason to believe in a possible bright future, and didn’t simply go in the lion’s den to plead with him—she offered her physical help to get rid of Snoke. She got one thing right that nobody else did: that Kylo didn’t just need an escape plan, he needed to destroy the voice in his head for good. And she went there to help him do exactly that.

#anon #asks #rey meta #the throne room #rey vs kylo #anti rey bs #compassion #kylo and snoke #rey #rey discourse

36 notes · View notes

mockymyths · 6 years

Text

Jeepers Creepers: Jezelle Gay Hartman - Psychic, Informant, Badass Grandma? - In My Dreams

Aside from providing some tension, information, and giving the plot one final push to the finale, this character is relatively simple and disappointing as a whole. Now before you decide to comment, let me discuss her specific role and actions in the movie and WHY she ends up being relatively disappointing with very little payoff. I’m also going to bring up a few suggestions as to how her character could have been used better.

It’s gonna be a spoiler palooza up ahead so if you care about that kind of thing don’t read I guess?

1.) The phone call:

So the first time we meet Jezelle it’s through a phone call that Trish and Darry receive while waiting for the cops at a diner. She calls to warn them that they’re in danger and what will happen to one of them if they’re caught by the Creeper.

This introduction feels very confused for multiple reasons.

First of all, we’re told that she doesn’t remember/see every little detail in her visions which allow her to have this kind of information in the first place. It gives us leniency in what we are and aren’t allowed to know, thus leaving an air of mystery until the very end. The frustrating thing about this though is the fact that later on it’s implied that she kinda lied about what she does and doesn’t know (expanded upon in number 2). It’s implied that she DOES know who will die and somehow she’s able to figure out when the two will be at the police station for her to meet up with. But if she’s able to see and figure that out then she should also have known when they would have a run in with the cats as well. That, along with the fact that she calls the diner at the exact time Trish and Darry are there, basically make this phone call stupid for so many reasons; because let’s be real: either she calls that diner constantly to try and catch them or she’s got some weird ass spidey sense going on (if she doesn’t actively know when they’re going to be there).

The only purpose this phone call really provides is tension. Later on when the siblings get a police escort and hear an alternative song to the one Jezelle played for them, Darry begins panicking saying that they’re in real danger whilst Trish tries to explain to him that it’s not even the correct song and that they’re fine. Ironically, they actually ARE in danger, they just don’t notice it yet because the action is happening in the background. It’s a nice scare and tension builder, by all means, but it really only works once and could have been alluded to better.

2.) The Police Station:

So as I mentioned earlier, near the climax of the movie, Jezelle finally meets the siblings in person at the police station. It’s here that she expands upon the nature of the Creeper and what their fates will be when he finally catches his intended target. This provides an excellent tension builder because this also gives the siblings the chance to confront her about who it will be that the Creeper chooses. This allows for a proper climax and a wonderful “stepping up” moment for Trish whom tries to bargain with the Creeper to save Darry and it’s wonderful because it gives us the reaffirmation that she truly is the caring protective older sister that we only see hints of throughout the movie.

But as you’ve probably guessed by now, I have an issue with this too.

Jezelle being promoted as a psychic character just feels tired. No one believes her and everyone thinks she’s crazy. Just that one sentence alone makes me feel TIRED of that trope. Now that being said, I do understand the reasoning for it. There’s really only so many ways you can provide information on a supernatural creature, but when the movie recycles the “visions” trope on another character it just feels even WORSE because now it’s cliche in the franchise with barely any rhyme or reason aside from information. Realistically, it would have been fine to not have these bits of information. Everything we were told could have been gleamed from what we saw in the movie and the only real important piece she provides us with is that one of the siblings will die by the creature’s hands. That’s it.

Now i’m not saying that psychic characters themselves are tiring, but the way they were handled in this series itself was. And this will be something I will be discussing further in part 5.

3.) Jezelle’s Last Stand:

So then we go off to the climax and Jezelle tries to buy the kids some time to escape by using herself as bait for the monster. She faces off with him and either she isn’t actually scared or she has absolutely nothing the Creeper desires for himself. He promptly ditches her to head straight for the kids. This paired with the ending where she responds to Trish by saying “I’m just a crazy old lady.” really gives everyone the feeling of inevitability and uselessness. These scenes were the most impactful for Jezelle and can really give us a deeper feeling and emotion than what was probably intended. And this is also where I feel like her character was most powerful.

Jezelle goes out of her way to try and help them because she can’t stand the thought of anyone else suffering by the Creeper’s hands whilst she does nothing. She doesn’t listen to what the others say when they claim that she’s crazy and even puts herself in harms way to try and save the siblings. So the look on her face when the Creeper barely gives her a second look and immediately goes after Trish and Darry is a little heart breaking. It’s like she realizes that she wasn’t even good enough to buy them a few minutes, that there wasn’t much she could do in the end.

And then later on, when Trish confronts Jezelle about her lying about who the Creeper was going to take, that gives us even more heart break. Jezelle was probably hoping that by telling them that Trish would be taken, that Darry would become less scared and maybe make himself undesirable to the Creeper in doing so. But ultimately there was nothing she could do to help, in the end she really was a “crazy old lady”, and it’s in that pain and acceptance of failure that we can feel the most for Jezelle.

4.) Payoff:

This is also why I feel like the use of her character was disappointing and the payoff was too small. Two thirds of her scenes amount to very little aside from building tension and scares and the information she gives is wholly unnecessary. If she had a larger part in the film then perhaps her final scenes would have been even more impactful. Because as much as this movie is about the siblings, the ending really paints us a depressing picture that begs the question of “if you can’t change the outcome, is there even a point in trying?”

Because although we can hear and feel Darry’s terror build until the finale and shudder at the...sight... EVEN THOUGH we can feel the pain in Trish as she chases down the Creeper and is left to face the awful fact that she couldn’t do her job of the elder sibling properly and protect Darry despite everything else she’s done in the movie to protect him, Jezelle possibly contains the most widespread emotion I think that we as humans can REALLY get on board with the most.

“If you can’t change the outcome...” “If you don’t succeed...”

“...Is there a point in trying?”

5.) Improvements:

So earlier I mentioned things such as Jezelle’s phone call, the information she provides on the Creeper, and her ability as a Psychic.

My primary complaints on her use as a character is that the scares and tension as well as information provided were ultimately pointless due to the lack of actual use. The information she provided on the Creeper, being a super old creature, reappearing for 23 days every 23rd summer, and can’t really die due to the fact that he can consume human parts to rejuvenate his body which is mostly why he hunts- All of this could have been provided in alternative ways and really kinda was. Things like missing people cases in the area, the Church of Pain (where all the bodies were sprung up like a mockery to the Sistine Chapel mural and others), and what we see in the later half of the film where Trish runs him over and then he eats cops to fix his parts, all of this was really all we needed in order to learn of the Creeper’s culture and motive. The only piece of information needed from Jezelle at this point was (ultimately) the ending. And even in this I have a simple solution.

One of my head canons happen to be that the close proximity to the Creeper allows for random individuals to have psychic abilities in order to combat him (he’s lived in that area presumably for at least a few hundred years, so if Jezelle lived in that area she could be one of the few who have insight to his habits. This would also be a great explanation for why Minxie was given the information needed on the Creeper.) This paranormal seepage into the world around him would also allow for technology to flicker and react to his presence and in the very first scene where he harasses the siblings in their car (as well as the second time) this could allow for the radio station to skip around and play bits of the song for Darry to connect to the Creeper later on. He’d hear bits in the car the first two times, hear the actual thing at the church of pain via a gramophone, connect it to the creeper when they have the police escort and start panicking, and then BOOM problem solved and we still feel that same terror at the end when it’s playing. No dumb phone call that has basically no real payoff; however Jezelle could still allude to it being Trish later on for the aforementioned reasons.

The only downside to this is that this would make Jezelle’s character SEEM completely unimportant and that’s where I say NAY! Because now that we’re not focusing on dumb attempts to build a one off scare we can actually USE her LOGICALLY. If she can track them well enough to know when to call them at the diner then she can fucking FIND THEM AT THE DINER HERSELF, or just as well, FUCKNG FIND THEM WHEN THEY’RE GETTING ESCORTED BY THE POLICE. Either way, she’s there when the escort get essentially FUCKED by the Creeper and Jezelle with a gun just shoots the hell out of the fucker and Trish runs him over for good measure (or the other way around, or they trade off, fuck it’d still be a cool scene either way!) Jezelle escorts them to the closest police station and THATS when she could tell us about her visions and desire to help out.

This would lead to an even greater payoff with her character because now we can feel more engaged with her (imo). This wasn’t just someone who kinda tried to help and then finally at the last minute decided to come in to still do essentially nothing- No, NOW it’s someone who was so fed up with being unable to help that she gets off her ass and ACTUALLY HELPS. She gets badass granny moments, maybe even bips him a few times in the police station while also acting as bait and is STILL IGNORED AND STILL FAILS.

That would be THE BIGGEST KICK and makes her failure and pain even more palatable in the end. Just imagine it and tell me that wouldn’t be badass and depressing as hell with the same amount of horror aspects built into it.

#jeepers creepers #Jezelle #headcanons #improvements #character analysis

5 notes · View notes

laberintos-espinas · 4 years

Text

Challenges of Travel Writing: Sharing My Experiences

Living out and about

Expounding on places you see, as and go gaga for right now world is an intriguing encounter for any essayist. Proficient or essentially enthusiastic about words, with an abstract foundation or only a devoted and explorer, we frequently want to impart our emotions and impressions to the others - family, companions or mysterious perusers. Based on our immediate encounters we may be enticed to make proposals about spots or to depict with our own words the sentiments and delights animated by a specific corner we were sufficiently fortunate to find Penwell Safaris The least demanding and most reasonable approach to do it is by taking pictures. They are only a single tick away and, except if you don't expect to make after a show or to distribute in a lustrous audit, you don't require uncommon aptitudes. The across the board utilization of computerized cameras offers to anyone, up to the record and interests, the likelihood to fix your memory in pictures, simple to download and simple to share - off or on the web. An image may talk the language of thousand of expressions of a potential book. Also, you don't require an excessive amount of motivation for taking them: be in the opportune spot, at the correct minute and snap. It is all you need - not, as on account of composing, a unique space, quiet, a scratch pad or a PC.

In any case, in the event that you need to accomplish more than posting or printing some photographs on the Internet, and you are aching for transforming into an incidental or committed travel essayist, you open the correct cabinet. This book is for you: a short non-comprehensive and open to conversation manage about how to all the more likely utilize your words for recounting to great anecdotes about spots you visited.

Possibly you don't plan presently to transform into an expert essayist. Furthermore, it is conceivable that your contacts with the composing scene are sporadic. In any case, in a similar time, you accept that you need to share some way or another to the universe of thoughts your own rendition of the truth. It may be accessible for any sort of composing exercises, climate is about news coverage, writing, verse, youngsters books or...the subject of our book: travel composing. On the off chance that you feel profoundly satisfied when you compose, it is an explanation enough to proceed to clean and refine your style. It isn't your calling and the wellspring of your pay. Be that as it may, more than your every day plan, we have to depend on our fantasies and interests. Also, if travel composing is one of them, be certain that you will discover enough time in your day by day program to work to your fantasies.

In the event that your interest and intrigue are sufficiently greater, we plan to offer you in the accompanying pages top notch headings for a subjective included an incentive into your composing profession. Moreover, if the title of our booklet is responding to certain inquiries and distractions you previously communicated, we want to offer a bigger as conceivable help for your aims. Our expectation is offering you the best rules for progress of your composing plans. You are allowed to settle on further the decisions you think about the most right, by distinguishing the satisfactory publication plans. What's more, obviously, I completely ask you to make your own commitments, by sharing your own composing encounters.

As an energetic essayist myself, I find the joy of movement composing generally later in my composing profession. In examination with different tasks I was included - as political reporting, for example, - the test of explicitly stating my own special travel encounters not as simple as I anticipated. Right now, was more than relating stripped statistical data points, it was tied in with sharing a novel inclination motivated by a spot, an individual involvement with certainty. Furthermore, I should admit that toward the starting I was hesitant to do it, just in light of the fact that in my discernment, the genuine reporting and the immediate, individual comprehension were at an extraordinary degree inconsistent. In any case, I was overlooking a straightforward truth: I was confronting a totally different composition and journalistic class. What's more, it set aside me a touch of effort to enter an alternate shape and style.

The contemplations remembered for the accompanying pages are only a short paper in sharing my experience of explorer and essayist, exercises that are for quite a while part of my every day life. There are down to earth advices - as, how to make your compositions known to a more extensive open utilizing the internet based life apparatuses - or elaborate contemplations - about the most fitting approaches to talk about the subject - or even authoritative angles - concerning arranging and archiving your excursions.

Our point is extremely basic: helping you to appreciate however much as could be expected both the delight of composing and of voyaging.

For those keen on tasting the expressions of exceptionally assessed proficient journalists, I arranged an all-inclusive rundown of writing suggestions, going a long ways past the old style touristic guides you are purchasing before going into an outing.

I might want to end this initial section with another couple of individual contemplations about both travel and composing. As I composed, for a long time as of now, travel is a piece of my day by day life. Possibly I am finding the spots of the town I am living in - not generally the equivalent - or I am pressing to see another mainland and nation, I am continually feeling the euphoria of finding out about new places, new societies and to meet new individuals. IT is an important piece of my school-of-life training. Without this standard crazy ride plan, I feel less myself. This is the explanation I am playing out this custom as frequently as could reasonably be expected. I had the brilliant opportunity to live and go in intriguing spots far and wide and I am persuaded that astonishing different spots are as yet hanging tight for me. In the blink of an eye: I love to travel.

The Never Ending Task of Polishing the Words

You may be a characteristic conceived essayist, yet without exercise and order of your day by day program your ability would be squandered effectively.

Composing could be a charming movement, however in a similar time, as any educated action, it isn't easy. Obviously, you don't have to run or to put your wellbeing on preliminary, however the scholarly consideration and exertion required could liken now and again the groundwork for a long distance race. As on account of running, you need exercise and experience for effectively arriving at your objectives.

The typical composing action looks at times as a ceaseless story: composing, modifying, altering, altering once more. This is the sweet tedium of each one of those for whom playing with words is the fundamental employment or enthusiasm. Toward the finish of the procedure, it may happen to lose the joy to peruse again - or ever - your words. Be that as it may, years after, it may be an exceptionally charming shock.

Two or three viable contemplations will facilitate your work, accessible when all is said in done for any sort of compositions:

- Polishing your words may be an extremely debilitating and hostile to motivational phase of your composing ventures, yet never abstain from doing this in any event twice. Indeed, even your thoughts are splendid, a terrible language structure or different incorrect spelling will demoralize any editorial manager or distributing house to think about your works for distributing

- Before beginning your day by day composing program, be certain that you have a simple access to a lexicon - of equivalent words, of expressions of the language you are writing in - a sentence structure rules, on the web or disconnected Internet assets - for quick checking of the right spelling of the names of spots or for getting to different authentic and social references fundamental in making setting of your works. Your validity made by various little subtleties and specialized components part of your movement, among which the precision of the data sent to your perusers or the abstract nature of the composed content. It isn't in every case simple and you need lasting endeavors for improving and updating yourself. Demeanor accessible for some other sort of expert exercises.

- Take your time and attempt to concentrate however much as could reasonably be expected regarding your matter. At the point when you are beginning to compose, anything besides your works matters. It is possible that you have 20 minutes or 2 days, concentrating on your composing must be the most significant piece of your day, during which put on-pause some other tedious exercises - as, forever checking your email or internet based life accounts.

- Read however much as could be expected writing important to your subjects. Be refreshed with the fundamental patterns and worries in the region, by partaking to different on the web or genuine courses and conversations. Be dynamic and bring up your issues and issues by participating to different conversation gatherings - on Google or Facebook.

Arranging your Writing

Along these lines, before beginning another section be certain that you have a general calendar of your composing program - an inexact arranging of the outcomes you plan to make, as of the principle thoughts you need remember for your work. What's more, obviously, get ready of being basic enough with your compositions.

Prior to beginning to compose, attempt to ask yourself several inquiries:

- What I need to expound on? You may be enticed to cover huge and liberal themes as: Paris, travel. Be that as it may, your inventiveness and imagination comprise in finding new edges and viewpoints. Subsequently, by being increasingly explicit - as, the morning from the window of my lodging - you will focus new and intriguing data.

- How I need to expound on? An exchange, an individual memoire, a short story, a portrayal of a particular touristic administration - as, an inn or methods for transportation.

- For whom would I like to compose? It may sound trade, yet you generally need to envision how your crowd looks like and thinks. It is a sightseeing publication, a blog for companions - case in which, for instance, referencing a few experiences of individuals every one of you realize will add a well-known note to your works, a short story for kids and so forth. In the event that you are composing for a magazine, your undertaking is simpler, as you have as of now the general depiction of the market.

- How much time I have available to me? Once more, in the event that you need to manage magazines' cutoff times, your whole work must be deliberately composed to cover all the three phases I referenced previously: documentation, writ

0 notes

texanredrose · 7 years

Text

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 (here) / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10

The moment she trudged into the kitchen, Yang was met with Ghira's raucous laughter and her father's heavy stare. She'd already played out every outcome in her head, now that it was clear enough to actually think without her chi flaring to life, so she couldn't even feign surprise. After spending from noon until well past sundown defending herself from various attackers, fighting to the point of exhaustion and then some, the blonde had almost nothing left, merely standing there as the Faunus slapped his knee and her father eventually joined in with soft chuckles and a fond shake of his head.

"Okay, guys, you can stop now." she said, the weariness in her bones infecting her tone. Her muscles kept shivering despite the fire crackling in the hearth, another stew bubbling in the pot above it. Yang somehow couldn't be motivated to even be hungry, her gut too sore to contemplate doing its job; all she wanted to do was pass out somewhere and recover from the rigorous day. The blonde had already washed herself off in the stream on the way back, realizing she wouldn't have the energy once inside the house, but her clothing would need to be mended and washed thoroughly tomorrow. Honestly, all of it could wait. "Dad."

"Who did it?" The burly Faunus turned towards her fully, a little grin on his lips as he tried not to burst out laughing again. "Which one actually managed to hit you in the face?"

"Because you might want to keep an eye on them in the future," her father said, prompting a fresh round of laughter from both of them.

Yang weathered their amusement with nothing more than a heavy sigh. She couldn't even feign surprise; this was the most likely outcome of her returning home with a black eye after spending the whole day out in the clearing, burning off excess energy. The entire right side of her face had swollen, nearly closing her eye due to the bruising, and the skin had split across the apple of her cheek from the force of the blow. One good hit while she was distracted had knocked her flat on her back and left her with a throbbing reminder of her overall foolishness, as if the turmoil of emotions that had pushed her to that point wasn't enough to drive the point home. She waited until they'd quieted down some before responding, seeing as they would likely keep bugging her about the incident until she told them anyway.

"It was Melanie." The next round of chuckles, although quieter, caused her to roll her eyes towards the ceiling, crossing her arms over her chest. "She got a lucky shot, that's all."

"I'm sure that would be my excuse, too." Her father shook his head. "Did you take on both sets of twins at once?"

"Yeah." The blonde sighed, marching over to the pot and grabbing the nearest bowl. After Ghira's retainers found her, she'd trounced the two Faunus just to earn her lunch, and then continued sparring against them for a solid hour before the women showed up. Apparently, Junior had already caught wind of her foul mood on the mainland and sent his nieces to help. She wouldn't be surprised if that's why the Faunus twins showed up as well, at Ghira's behest; the bodyguards always seemed intent on finding excuses to test their mettle against her, true, but anyone on Patch would be able to guess that having an opponent would do the woman worlds of good. Smashing her fists into the tress just didn't provide the same level of catharsis and mental distraction she needed. "For a four-on-one fight, coming out with a little scratch isn't that bad."

"I watched you tear through a whole cavalry company when we broke the Atlesian siege at Signal while hardly breaking a sweat." Her father pointed out, a teasing lilt to his voice. When she turned towards him, he handed her a set of chopsticks and she could see the worry lurking in his eyes. Even if she had completed much greater feats before and faced opponents not intent on killing her today, even if a swollen eye constituted nothing her chi wouldn't have fixed by sunup tomorrow, the fact that it happened at all seemed to be his main focus. "Admit it; you let your anger direct you."

She thought about arguing for all of two seconds before her shoulders slumped even further, her gaze falling to the space between them. "You're right. I just... I was..." Yang sighed, raising her eyes to meet his. "H-how's Weiss? Is she... doing better?"

"Yes, much better." Her father gave her a small smile, accepting her minimal response and allowing the subject to slide for the time being. "I taught her how to play the encircling game earlier, she cleaned herself up, and she even came down for dinner with us, but she went back to bed about an hour ago. I suspect she was trying to wait up for you but the tea's still in her system; another night of rest and she'll be back to normal." He paused, lowering his voice and looking at her with all seriousness. "We should keep an eye on her anyway, just in case." Another pause. "I'd suggest you use your good one."

Although the Faunus had to stifle a laugh against his forearm, Yang couldn't find her humor quite yet, anxiety gnawing at her gut. It almost made her dump the contents of her bowl back into the pot. How could she possibly keep anything down with every ill emotion twisting her into knots that refused to come undone? Her brows drew together, concern making her throat constrict and her tongue feel thick inside her mouth. "Was she mad?"

"Only when Tai weaseled out of a loss on the last move during one of their games," Ghira said, draining the remainder of his cup in one go. Given the bottle of wine on the table- the glass spoke of a Menagerian design, from the south of their island if she had to guess- it wasn't too difficult to figure out the two were staying up to trade memories back and forth, as they often did. "She learns quickly and she certainly has a competitive streak. I think she'll become good friends with Blake, once all this is behind us."

If only it was so easy.

Her father put a hand on her shoulder. "Eat, and then go talk to her." He leaned towards her to emphasize his point. "And I mean it, little dragon. Talk to her."

Yang nodded, trying to calm the erratic beating of her heart at the thought of confronting Weiss. All day, she'd vented her powerless rage with herself over her own errors to try and clear her head, even sent away two messengers that had arrived bearing news from the clan leaders to the south so she wouldn't add to her frustrations. Yet, she hadn't come up with some manner of suitable explanation for her behavior, and by extension Blake's. Sure, her wife had accepted the Faunus' apology, but she hadn't necessarily forgiven the blonde yet. She owed the woman a proper explanation but constructing it had just fed into her anger, frustration lending her voice power as she yelled with every punch thrown and every hit blocked. Mechanically, Yang sat down and ate the contents of her bowl, not registering the flavor as she mentally mapped out everything she needed to say. Some part of her wished she'd been there when Weiss awoke, because maybe the confusion of newly returning to a state of consciousness would've afforded her leeway the woman's lucidity would not. Her father had exiled her from the house, though, citing her simmering anger as the main reason he didn't want her just sitting there by Weiss' bedside, stewing. The blonde herself had awoke in the wee hours of the morning, her guilt driving her to sit on the bedside rather than continue lying beside her wife. She'd felt the woman's chi pushing and pulling at hers before drifting off, obviously seeking much needed comfort during the height of her fever, but Weiss' breathing that morning was deep and even, with no crease to her brow. She looked peaceful, though she did reach out when Yang removed herself from the bed. An automatic reaction, Yang assumed, and she'd taken great care to tuck the woman in so she wouldn't feel the early morning chill.

She wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand, halfway through her silent meal and still no closer to finding the right words. Everything seemed to jumble up, thoughts and emotions coming to her without anything concrete to string them together with, and certainly not in any manner of sense. Over everything, she felt the lingering spectre of fear- how could Weiss forgive her? Did she even know the full extent of the blonde's transgressions? What if she demanded to leave Patch?

They'd grown closer since their wedding. Most often in little bounds, small victories that brightened her smile, but the idea of losing that, of being sent backwards...

All too soon, she finished her dinner and pushed away from the table, turning her attention to the stairs. Yang had a thought to ask her father for advice, question if he'd ever faced something similar, but she doubted he'd tell her. This trial she had to overcome on her own and bear the fallout without any help; he'd warned her about such things when the message arrived proposing the marriage all those months ago.

She made her way up to the second floor landing, her boots falling heavily with every step until she stopped in front of the bedroom door. However, before she could reach out and open it, indecision gripped her and rooted her to the spot. There were very few things that could bring the warrior to a halt so effectively but so many things entered her mind, born of her heavy heart from all that had happened.

Should she knock? Announce her presence softly, give Weiss the chance to turn her away? What if the woman was asleep, should she wake her wife? What if that just made things worse?

"Yang?" The blonde stiffened, lilac eyes focusing on the wood as Weiss' voice came from within. "Is that you?"

The blonde tried to answer but the words caught in her throat, forcing her to instead take a steadying breath before entering the room and closing the door behind her. If nothing else, she could take the woman addressing her in Atlesian as a good sign; a return to their normal dynamic, if only just a little.

Her wife sat up in bed, the moonlight streaming in from the window cutting a path across the room and illuminating the right side of her face. Some part of her wanted nothing more than to immediately crawl into bed beside the woman, preferably under the covers as her muscles once again shivered. Despite sitting in the kitchen while she ate, the fire had done nothing to chase away the chill of the stream, and the night air had driven it deeper until her very bones felt cold. Without her anger- without her chi- to combat it, the cold lingered, and it threatened to make her curl in on herself like a child. Yet, she remained just inside the door, waiting for some indication as to what she should do next. The few words she'd managed to form and string together on the trek to the room had disappeared entirely, her throat clamping down out of an alien sense of loss.

The feared Dragon of Patch could face down entire armies without so much as blinking, a cocky grin on her lips and a swagger in her step, but, with those sharp blue eyes upon her, she felt like nothing more than a harmless snake with no fangs, pale fingers wrapped around her neck. No matter how much it hurt, if Weiss sent her away, she would go and lament her foolishness without a fight.

She just hoped it didn't come to that.

"Yang, say something." Weiss shifted, folding her hands in her lap and squaring her shoulders- a posture she assumed whenever uncomfortable or anxious.

In response, the blonde blurted out the first words to come to mind, not wanting to make her wife even more upset. "Are you feeling better?

The woman gave her a small smile and nodded. "Yes, much better. Thank you."

"I'm so sorry-"

"Stop." She immediately bit down on the flood of apologies that wanted to come out, watching as the Atlesian heaved a sigh. "You don't have to keep apologizing; you did nothing wrong."

Silence filled the space between them, a brief struggle ensuing within her heart: to remain quiet, as her wife bid, or correct her, explain why she begged the woman's forgiveness. In the end, it was no contest.

"I did do something wrong. A couple things, actually," she said, hands clenching at her sides even as she evenly met those ice blue eyes. Her arms, sore from the day's exertion, found enough strength to dig blunt fingernails into the palms of her hands. She probably couldn't even lift her arms at this point, Ember Celica's familiar weight seeming many times heavier; she couldn't remember the last time they felt so dense. She could keenly remember the last time she had so much weighing her down, though- her guilt, her burned out anger, her exhaustion- and, despite it all, she finally found the words she needed when genuine curiosity superseded the woman's previous resignation. "I broke your trust, Weiss. I- I didn't mean to... but I did."

The Atlesian seemed to parse her words for a moment, brows knitting in confusion. "What makes you say that?"

Haltingly at first, Yang explained how the whole situation came to pass, how her unwillingness to bend an old tradition had caused the whole mess. She left nothing out, not even her presence beneath the window, and it hurt to see the woman's eyes widen in shock, gaze dropping to stare at the hands in her lap even as the blonde continued her telling. She spoke of everything up to hearing the woman's tear filled admission, where she trailed off into an uneasy silence, wanting so bad to apologize again but not sure what to make of Weiss' hunched shoulders.

"So... you heard everything, then." The Atlesian cleared her throat slightly, idly smoothing out the blanket on her lap. Silence began to stretch between them before her wife sighed, forcing her gaze up to meet Yang's. "I suppose that makes this easier, in some respects. You... you already know why I... why I sent you away." Blue eyes wanted to look away but Weiss forced herself to maintain eye contact, straightening her shoulders and back, and the blonde quite nearly left the doorway to go to her, smooth her hands across tense muscles. It worried her- just last night, her wife was shivering so badly the warrior feared she might seriously injure herself- and she managed half a step forward before the woman spoke. "I'm sorry, Yang. I never meant for all this to happen; I never intended for things to spiral the way they did. I thought I was doing the right thing by removing myself from the equation." Her mouth worked soundlessly for a moment, forcing her to look away before she could continue. "I didn't want my prejudice to put you in jeopardy, or cause you to worry."

"Of course I'm going to worry about you!" Immediately, the blonde cringed at the volume of her words, raising her hands up in a gesture of surrender. "Wait- I, I didn't mean to yell, I'm just..." She sighed, somehow summoning the will power to walk forward, at least until she could sit on the corner of the bed. More than anything, she wanted to wrap her arms around the smaller woman's frame, replace those awful memories from when she was caught in the throes of the fever with Weiss resting calmly beside her, lost to a peaceful slumber. However, if she allowed herself such an indulgence, she might fall asleep from the weight of relief and weariness dragging her down. "Weiss, I meant what I said the day we were wed. We're tied together now, our happiness, our sorrows- when something upsets you, I'm upset, too." She paused, acknowledging the obvious. "But I won't say I understand. What you were taught about the Faunus... it doesn't make sense to me. But I at least understand that it was scary for you, and I won't hold that against you. I just..." A shake of her head. "I overreacted. Blake wasn't lying; I really thought I'd done something wrong and I wanted to make it right. I needed to know what the problem was but I should've been more patient."

"I should've been more honest," her wife replied, though there was a small smile on her lips. "You don't have to be so eager to take the blame, you know. I've had plenty of time to think about my actions, my mistakes. I did this to myself."

"I refuse to believe that." The blonde glanced away for a moment, lilac eyes falling on Myrtenaster, resting peacefully on the dresser. She remembered their time in the clearing, teaching the Atlesian techniques that were ingrained in her muscles to the point she couldn't actually figure out a way to verbally describe the motions- they simply were, and she could do each without conscious effort. Most vividly, she recalled how they moved together when unlocking the woman's chi, the icy cold pushing back against the heat of her inner fire until they found a balance and could move as one. "Look, I don't think we'll ever agree on this. In the end, we... we both made mistakes." She put a hand on the center of her chest. "I shouldn't have asked Blake try to fix a misunderstanding between us; I should've let you tell me in your own time. I definitely shouldn't have eavesdropped on your conversation." She looked back towards Weiss, noting the urge to cut her off shining in those blue eyes. But she didn't, allowing the blonde to air her faults without comment, so she returned the favor. "And..."

"And, I should've told you my feelings from the start. I shouldn't have sent you away without a proper explanation." The woman paused, lifting one shoulder in a small shrug. "I shouldn't have kept drinking the tea for an excuse to tell the truth. I should've trusted you more-"

"You trusted me enough." For the first time in far too long, the corners of her mouth pulled up into a small smile. "You've had all your life to be afraid of Blake and the other Faunus but I've had all my life to be their friends. Even now, I- I can't wrap my head around how the stories must've gone, what you heard growing up." Her brows furrowed as she shook her head. "It doesn't make sense to me; the only part I can latch onto is that it upset you, scared you. Overcoming that... it couldn't be easy, at all, and, honestly... I'm really impressed." Weiss seemed shocked at that admission, mouth falling open just slightly before skepticism took its place, and the blonde realized she couldn't leave any doubts lingering between them. "No, really- I mean, I couldn't keep a straight face if I had to talk to a spider one-on-one."

While that did erase the skepticism, it was quickly replaced with confusion. "What? Why would you talk to a spider?"

"I wouldn't! They're so creepy, with their eight legs and beady little eyes and fangs and-" The uncontrollable shiver not borne of the chill still deep in her bones wracked her frame then and effectively cut her off, shoulders hunching as she tried to curl in on herself.

"Are you... scared of spiders?" Despite the emphasis, when Yang looked up, she didn't see disapproval or teasing reflected back at her. Instead, her wife had a little smile on her lips, as if this new information somehow pleased her.

"Yeah." She relaxed a little, firmly reminding herself that there weren't any spiders on Patch and shoving to the back of her mind that one time Blake had brought a tarantula with her, claiming it as a pet. "Have been since I was a little kid." She shrugged with a chuckle. "And, you know, I definitely wouldn't sit down and have tea with one!" That pulled a little laugh from the woman, running a hand through her white bangs. "So, yeah. I'm impressed. I know it took a lot of courage for you to do that. And..." Her gaze drifted down to the space between them as she felt the her smile suddenly broaden uncontrollably as heat coursed through her cheeks. It wasn't the familiar warmth of her chi flaring back to life, though. "It made me really happy to hear you trusted me enough to talk to Blake. Out of all of this, I can't help but be a little giddy about that."

Slowly, she looked up to meet Weiss' eyes, noting that the skepticism had given way to a small smile. "Let no one ever accuse you of being a pessimist."

"There's a silver lining to every cloud, right?" They laughed softly, pausing awkwardly as both tried to find a suitable way to get the conversation back on track. Eventually, Yang bit the bullet. "So, can we... agree to do better?" She held out her right hand, though she couldn't articulate a reason why- maybe because she wanted to cup her wife's face or touch her shoulder- but she did neither, letting it hang in the air as she spoke. "I promise I won't ask anyone else to interfere like that again. If I'm worried, I'll tell you, and I promise to listen to whatever it is that's bothering you, no matter how silly or ridiculous or terrible you think it is." Pausing, she took a moment to decide on how to word what she wanted to say to make her feelings clear, resolution causing her chin to tilt up and a bright smile to finally find its way back to her lips after the past day of flipping between a severe frown or an outright snarl. "And, for the record, I don't think you're a barbarian or a monster, Weiss. I never have. No matter how many times you find yourself surprised or scared by something, I won't hold that against you. I know you're a beautiful person, inside and out."

The woman blinked a few times, those blue eyes suddenly shining brighter than before and it took Yang a moment to realize she was holding back tears. Her smile fell, worry squeezing her heart that she'd said the wrong thing, but then Weiss held out her left hand, beckoning her closer. She slid up the bed until the Atlesian's smaller hand slipping into hers, squeezing softly.

"I have promises to make, too." Her tone grew stronger with every word, but the blonde could definitely hear the warble in her voice near the beginning. "I promise I won't shut you out to save myself the difficulty of being honest. If you ask, I'll tell you what's bothering me instead of hiding it."

She bent her head forward, brushing a kiss against the woman's knuckles before covering them with her other hand. "So... we'll learn from this? We can forgive each other and move on, right?"

"I still don't believe you did anything warranting the need for my forgiveness, especially in comparison... but yes." Weiss nodded. "You are forgiven."

"You know, I'd argue the same for you, but I really don't think I'd win in the long run." She chuckled. "Either way, I forgive you, too. And when Blake comes back-"

"We'll both forgive her." The pleasant expression formerly adorning her wife's face slid away in an instant, brows pinching together as her voice took on a forceful edge. "I mean it, Yang; she was only trying to help. We both put her in a difficult position and she... made a mistake, yes, but she didn't do it through maliciousness."

"I know that." She sighed, shaking her head slightly and moving closer, as much because her arms were tired of being held up as to get a little closer to her wife. With the relief suffusing her being, she wondered how much longer before she simply collapsed backwards in utter exhaustion; just sitting on the bed felt amazing. "Honestly, I'm still a little upset with her. But... we'll work it out." The blonde chuckled, offering a small shrug. "It's not the first time we've had a fight, believe it or not."

"Well, given how both of you- wait." Weiss leaned closer, her unoccupied hand coming up to firmly grab hold of the blonde's chin and turn her head towards the window. "I thought it was just the shadows playing tricks on me- Yang, what happened to your eye?"

"Oh. That." She cringed. "Um, long story?" At her wife's thoroughly unamused stare, she cleared her throat. "I spent most of today training. Some friends stopped by to spar, and I... well, I was angry, and distracted, so one of them got a lucky shot."

"That looks much worse than a 'lucky shot'." Her head was moved, allowing the moonlight to illuminate the wound better. Slim fingers lightly traced the edges of the swelling, at once causing her to wince while also providing sweet relief. Somehow, her wife's skin was cold to the touch, even moreso than what lingered, but not in the way that would make her shiver again. Instead, her touch eased the throbbing pain she'd shoved to the back of her mind, pulling a soft sigh from her lips. Weiss moved closer, pushing back blonde bangs to see how high the bruising went. She remained still throughout the inspection, closing her right eye so she didn't worry the woman more; her muscles were already so tired that forcing it open made them twitch and jump. "I thought your semblance could prevent injuries like this?"

"It can, but I was redirecting it at the time." When the Atlesian moved away slightly, she turned her head to look at her wife's worried expression. "I was focusing all my energy into my strikes. It... left me defenseless and Melanie exploited that."

"Do you have any other injuries?" Weiss pushed the blanket off herself, making to stand.

"Oh, I'm fine, a little rest and-" At the frosty glare she received, the blonde bit down on her words and opted for a different approach. "Nope, no other injuries at all."

At first, it didn't look like the woman would accept her smile and words as proof enough, but after narrowing her eyes briefly the Atlesian moved away from the bed with nothing more than a firm command for Yang to stay put. She felt a little silly, waiting on the bed while Weiss left the room, and she thought about at least changing out of her clothes and into her sleepwear. In the end, she decided against it; having just made amends with her wife, the last thing she wanted to do was put that in jeopardy. To pass the time, she looked around the room and tapped her fingers against her knees, raising a brow at the game board left on the dresser. She couldn't really tell due to the distance but she thought it looked like the set Ghira had given her dad to commemorate the ending of Vale's civil war. The Faunus liked to joke that it was a 'welcome to royalty' present, the pieces meant to symbolize the two new 'princesses of Vale' while the board served as their father, upon whose legacy they would build the coming era. Or something like that.

A small smile came to her lips at the memory. Back then, she didn't understand exactly what it meant when her father defeated the last unruly clan huddling in the far corner of Vale. All she cared about was an end to the fighting, a chance to return home and pay respects to those lost during the senseless war. Being an island, they'd thought Patch safe from the war on the mainland, so when it came...

The door closed softly, drawing her attention to Weiss as she returned, a cloth in one hand and a bowl in the other. Yang watched as water sloshed around the rim when it was set down on the bed, one corner of the cloth dipped into the liquid. "This may hurt, but I need you to hold still."

"I can-" Blue eyes snapped to her single lilac. "Do that. Absolutely. No moving, at all."

The Atlesian nodded before leaning forward, lightly dabbing at the swollen flesh. Thankfully, with the blonde sitting and her wife standing, the reversed height difference made it so she had to tilt her head up to allow the woman to work. She tried her hardest to keep from flinching, not wanting Weiss to think she was being anything other than absolutely delicate, but a few times, it simply couldn't be helped. The cut along the top of her cheek stung when the cloth passed over it, clearing away the little bit of dried blood that clung to her skin, and it throbbed for a moment before her wife pressed her fingertips to the wound to check the bleeding. Suddenly, cold seeped into her skin, though it wasn't the kind that made her shiver. Instead, it spread through her, like a cool breeze on a hot summer day washing over the sea, bringing waves of comfort and much needed relief. Weiss' touch traced higher, near her swollen lower eyelid, and the chill followed. She bit her lip lightly as her wife gently pressed the moistened cloth against her brow, where another split lay hidden beneath the swelling. That one had stopped bleeding quickly when she brushed the back of her thumb against it to keep her vision clear.

"How did one punch manage to do so much damage?" Weiss murmured, dipping the cloth into the water again.

"Well, it was a kick, actually," she replied, unsure if the question was meant to be rhetorical or not. She conveniently left out that fact that said kick happened to be delivered by a boot comprised almost entirely of metal, the heel sharpened to a razor's edge and easily capable of splitting her head open. If Melanie had any intention to actually hurt her, the damage would've been much worse, but the woman had pulled back at the last second when she realized where her blow would land. It didn't save the blonde from the strike but it did make explaining it much easier on them both.

"I... suppose that makes more sense. Tilt your head back." Yang readily complied, her left eye falling shut as cool fingertips traced along her upper eyelid, towards the outside corner of her eye and up to the brow. The chill from before followed, spreading through her skin and pulling another soft sigh from her lips. "Is it feeling better?"

"Yeah." She looked at Weiss, her right eye opening farther than it had before. "Looks like you have a healing touch."

Her wife rolled her eyes. "If that was your idea of a joke, it was terrible. If not, I'd rather not know I have that ability than find out this way."

"It's just a little scratch."

Her gaze was directed up into stern blue eyes. "If it was a 'little scratch', I'd still be worried." Whatever comment Yang might've had died as a finger pressed against her lips. "Let me put it this way: your pain is my pain. Understand?"

She smiled, lips pulling wider when the woman returned the expression before attending to her wound once more. "I'll be more careful next time."

"God willing, there won't be a next time." Weiss dabbed lightly at the apple of her cheek. Washing it off in the stream hadn't done nearly as much as her wife's gentle tending, the cold from before reaching deeper until it sparked something entirely different. The familiar heat of her chi surged forth, kindled by her wife's touch, and she took a deep breath as it spread through her body, washing away the lingering aches and pains from her day spent fighting as well as the urge to shiver.

"Wow," she said, releasing her breath in a long sigh. "You're a very fast learner." Weiss made a questioning noise in the back of her throat, drawing back as the blonde ran a hand through her hair, able to open her right eye fully now. Only a little swelling remained, which would likely be gone by morning. "You used your semblance to call mine back; it's the same thing I did to bring out yours."

"I... didn't even notice. I mean- it wasn't something I did consciously." After a moment's hesitation, the woman reached for Ember Celica, fingers expertly manipulating the buckles on her right wrist. "I... suppose I can't quite control it yet."

"That's alright." The blonde smiled, sliding her right forearm out of the cestus. "Once you- once both of us are fully healed, we can do some more training together. Conscious control of one's semblance is learned through disciplined practice and this part, I'm pretty good at!" Weiss paused while undoing the straps on her left, her expression turning thoughtful. Yang furrowed her brows slightly, confused by the absence of a response. "I mean, if that's okay?"

Her wife seemed to snap out of it, favoring her with a small smile. "Yes, of course. I look forward to it."

Her left cestus was pulled away in short order, both set on the dresser next to Myrtenaster, and the woman grabbed the bowl and cloth while Yang changed into her pajamas- a silk set dyed in gold with dragons twining around the arms and trailing down her back. She did her best to bite back a yawn, pulling the blanket down lower and laying down to allow her weary muscles their first taste of the impending rest, staring up at the ceiling and waiting for Weiss to return.

Then, they could... just settle down... for sleep... and...

Yang woke with a start, blinking at the faint sunlight streaming in through the window and groaning. She'd woken up just a little later than she normally would, which wasn't really a problem, until she noticed something: she usually slept on her side, with her wife pressed up against her chest and sleeping peacefully. Ever since finding out that the position seemed to cure her incessant snoring, she did her best to make it her new sleeping habit for the Atlesian's sake.

Right now, she was flat on her back.

"Oh no."

"Good. You're awake." Weiss' voice- thick and more than a little agitated- made her wince and turn her head. Much to her surprise, the woman was pressed against her side, head resting on the blonde's shoulder with an arm wrapped around her waist. She must've come back from putting up the bowl and cloth to find Yang passed out and simply laid down beside her. In slumber, she'd curled one arm around her wife's shoulders, keeping them pressed close despite the unusual position. "I want you to know something."

She swallowed, bracing herself for the impending lecture. "Y-yeah?"

The Atlesian pushed herself up, looming over Yang with her hair cascading over one shoulder, half lidded blue eyes shining bright despite the early hour. "I am more stubborn than any mere bear." She dropped back down and shifted onto her side, offering her back to the blonde. "Now roll onto your side so we can both get some sleep."

She immediately complied, wrapping an arm around Weiss waist and pulling her in close, pressing a soft kiss against pure white locks. "Sorry about that, Snowfall."

"Oh, hush; you needed the rest far more than I did." Her wife laid an arm over hers, squeezing her wrist softly while stifling a yawn. "But I would like a nap before going down for breakfast."

Yang smiled, humming softly and closing her eyes. Sleep wouldn't come but she lightly dozed while her mind wandered, jumping from topic to topic without any rhyme or reason. A few things stuck in her mind, though, and she stashed them away for later, when she could talk to her father about them. Eventually, her thoughts turned to the woman in her arms, and how the Maidens had smiled upon her when they'd arranged the strings of fate to bring the two together. She guessed anyone else would've probably taken her offer to break their bonds the night of the wedding or, for those who wouldn't, they would still be livid over this whole fiasco, but not Weiss. With a sort of grace the blonde admired, she'd risen above the ill effects of the tea and her fear, completely tossed aside the idea of resentment and grudges, and couldn't even act a little bit selfish when Yang had fallen asleep, sprawled out across the mattress.

She moved slightly, nuzzling further into pure white locks and taking a deep breath, drawing in the faint scent of lilac that she now strongly associated with her wife.

...... for the record, I love spiders and snakes and various creepy crawlies... but I get why most people are not fans.

#Freezerburn Arranged Marriage AU #Freezerburn #TRR writes #Queens of Vale fanfic

32 notes · View notes

thescribblinkgirl-blog · 7 years

Text

You’re still here.

Y/N - Your Name. Readers may insert any person’s name they wish to be a part of this short story.

Y/FS - Your Favourite Subject. Referred to using “they” in 3rd party narration to achieve gender neutral writing.

S/O - Name of Significant Other. Y/N’s other half. Referred to using “they”, so as to be gender neutral.

P/FS - Partner’s Favourite Subject.

While you are preparing to make a dinner meal for 2 - you and your partner, something halts you in your tracks; still holding kitchen utensils and cutleries in your hands, you start to focus your senses on what in particular it is. Your ears picks up on soft, almost inaudible sobs that sounds all too familiar to you - your S/O’s sobs. Although soft and quiet, it is overflowing with unspeakable agony that is way too apparent, at least to you. This is enough for you to put down whatever you are doing at the moment, and starts to pace yourself towards your partner’s SOHO in the cramp yet made-to-feel-cozy space that both of you shared since 4 years ago.

-Flashbacks to 4 years before: Y/N and S/O were college sweethearts who had just graduated from college, successfully completing their tertiary education. Both Y/N and S/O had taken their Diplomas, Y/N’s in Y/FS and S/O in P/FS respectively. Y/N came from an average family background, they were not poor but constantly struggling with debts from bad investments; so when Y/N wanted to subsequently further their education to Bachelor’s Degree, their parents was unable to provide the financial means to support their ambition. S/O is someone intelligent but never shown a lot of academic interest, their mother dropped them off to an orphanage shortly after they were born. S/O had never heard from their parents since then, but has always pestered the orphanage director - fondly known as Mother Delia, for any sorts of information she might have known about them.

Fresh out of school and without much of a support from home, both Y/N and S/O had to first empty their savings from the part-time jobs they worked while they studied, to pay the deposits for a humble studio apartment in a new city - a place where they could call their safe haven. While they landed on their then full-time job quite easily, their salaries as fresh graduates could barely scrape by their basic costs of living in a large town. They spent most of their waking time working, accepted ad-hoc jobs that might have helped to fill in the gaps for a better life, they even lived on all kinds of instant food to increase their savings, all of which caused them to see each other less than a few hours in a week. Fortunately, both of them remained as optimistic and determined as they could possibly manage to be, kept each other motivated through quick calls and texts and took on life’s shortcomings through gritted teeth.

This year marks the 5th year since the both of you have moved in together. The company that you have started and built with your S/O about 2 years ago is doing fairly well; with the business picking up steadily, your standard of lifestyle as a young couple is finally starting to improve. In addition to financially supporting your family, you even manage to help your parents pay off all of their debts; S/O has always maintained a good relationship with the members of your family, emphasising the importance of a family’s bond. Deep down your heart, you knew that S/O’s mind has never once forget the thought of getting to know their own family. All these times, they just kept it aside so it doesn’t become a distraction in both of your struggles to achieve success. You stand in front of the door to your S/O’s office, you snap out of your thought.

You raise your head to the wall clock hung on the white cream wall of your apartment to check the time, and realise that a good 20 minutes has passed. You gently pressed your ears against the SOHO’s door from outside, the sobs have steadied down but long and hitched breathing is still audible. You know that S/O hardly cries because they prefer to keep negative expressions to themselves, much to the outcome of being forced to be independent at such a tender phase of their life. The last time S/O had their tears shed was when the news of Mother Delia’s passing; you’ve met her a couple of times when S/O visited the home to their childhood. That woman was an amazing personality - she was a devout Christian, reserved but wise, stern but caring. She had many children under her care, she didn’t have a lot of time to individually spend with each and everyone of them but she made it clear that she deeply cares for their welfare.

After you rearrange the thoughts and emotions that comes associated, you feel ready to be with a possibly depressed S/O. “S/O, dear, it’s me.” You gently call them out while placing a few knocks on the door, careful so as to not startle them. Taking in several long hard breaths, “Y/N.” S/O croaks, clearly resulting from their effort to silence their cries. You take slow and light steps into the office and shut the door behind you. Glancing around you, the room is lit only by S/O’s desk lamp with sheets of papers scattered not only on their desk but on the floors as well; squinting your eyes, you spotted S/O sitting on the floor, their head hung down with slouched shoulders they hug their legs against the chest, and their mobile phone still clutched in their hands. You casually place your a hand over theirs and the other remove the phone from S/O’s grip with caution, then walk over to place it on the nearby coffee table. Little did you realise, S/O had raise their head and their eyes are following your movements.

Turning to face them, you see a disheveled S/O clearly in a lot of distress; a condition not like you have never seen before, but you know that it must take something very serious for S/O to become like this. The ache in your heart is hard to ignore, to see the love of your life caught in such a devastating situation. Reminding yourself to stay calm, you suppress the urge to pound on your partner with interrogatives and advices like you normally react when problems arise, you find a spot beside S/O and lower yourself down to sit facing them. Both of you lock gazes and stay in silence before you said in a soft whisper, “Dear, something is clearly not turning out well for you... You can share it with me if you feel like it, otherwise... just allow me to sit beside you for awhile.” You hear their breath hitch as you cast your gaze down to your hands, so that they wouldn’t feel like they’re stuck in an inquisition.

It took another half an hour of dead silence before S/O takes one heavy breath and speaks up, “Y/N, it’s not just something that is not working out for me. It’s everything.” Hearing this, you can tell that your heart drops to your stomach. Am I losing them? What went wrong? Has their feelings worn off of this relationship? I thought we were doing great... Words of endearment has also stopped coming from them anymore... Maybe... Just maybe, we’ve come to the end of us... You desperately want to ask a question, say a word, or a sentence, but nothing finds its way out of your throat as you feel like they’re going to slip away from you. Sensing your discomfort, S/O apprehensively continues, “This is not going to work, nothing will fix it. It’s all over, and it’s all my fault. We’re done for, Y/N.” What? What have they been hesitating to tell me, the truth? Why now of all times, when we are doing well? Tears dangerously threaten to gush out from your eyes, the violent effort you need to take to keep them at bay and to remain as composed as you can is driving you hysterical from inside.

“W-what is g-going to make y-you stay?” your voice wavers in fear, but you immediately decided that the worst thing that can ever happen to you is to lose S/O. “What in the world?! Why would you still want me to stay, Y/N?! I would think it is of your best interest to leave me. It’s rational and best if you can go away this instance.” S/O spurts out. So, this is it. They're going to leave. Was that the reason why they’ve been so deep in contemplation recently? Thinking of a way to leave me? Anger quickly took over all the fear that has been growing fiercely just a while ago, “I will leave you if you give me the truth I deserve.” Thinking about how silly S/O makes you feel when you thought being tactful will make it work with them, you decided that you’ll fight, if not for the love you have for them, it’s the possibility of “us” for the both of you.

“This isn’t a bargain, Y/N.”

“You’re right, it’s not, it’s a demand.”

“...Y/N, stop acting childish and please don’t make this harder than it already is.”

CHILDISH! I’m called CHILDISH for wanting to know what is going on?! I can almost see through every shield they’re holding up against me, I just need. Need. to. know. What exactly is hidden under those defences? This is also when you lose it. Your cool. Forget about staying calm. It’s never your demeanour like this anyway. You’ve always been the fiery one, passionate, aggressive, pumped up in whatever you do and say.

“S/O. I’m trying very hard for you. Of all people you should know that playing the calm card is so not me. Please consider doing me one last favour. WHAT THE H**K IS GOING ON? DON’T YOU THINK I DESERVE A ‘RATIONAL’ EXPLANATION IF LEAVING YOU IS THE ONLY ‘RATIONAL’ WAY OUT OF GOD-KNOWS-WHAT!? SITUATION?” You shot up from your position beside them. All your pent up emotions and questions from such a sudden outburst by your partner’s behavior erupted into a scream, for your own salvation, sadly. “Y/N...”, S/O relents and stands up to join you. Right, go on and stick some more shields. The more they do it, the more you’re going to pierce through each and every single piece!

“I’m confused. T-this is so sudden. Please at least make an attempt to explain the situation to me.” You softened to a plea, feeling like your yelling may have been a bit too much for them.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. Please, just go. I’ll get all your belongings and send them to your family home within the next 12-hours.” S/O refuses.

“I don’t understand how you arrive at so much hate for me. I just need to know... S/O, please. I’m not sure about you but, the truth, is very important to me. I-I promise, I’ll l-leave once you tell m-me. I promise.” You attempt to plea again, on the verge of bursting into tears.

“Y/N... No... Please, no.” S/O’s resolution is cracking your sanity, and they know it. Have they been so stubborn before? I thought I was the one. Why’d they gone out of character? How am I going to move on without ever knowing the things that gone wrong...?

“S/O. You know. I did not, have not, and will never break my promises. I’ll keep it even more so if it is you... I’ll believe you no matter what you tell me. I promise I will do anything as you say, after you let me know what is really going on here. Just, please. I beg you.” You beg. You, Y/N, begged. I can almost feel me smirking to myself. Your deadpanned eyes met theirs, they look so rueful... You can’t help but feel like something is not right. Their eyes should portray determination, but instead all you got from them are a vision filled with regret, sorrow, doubts, and the most irregular one: a fear that matches yours. You mustn’t give up now, especially not now. You wait, you wait for a response.

20 minutes of awkward silence later, “I’ll take your words of promise, Y/N.” S/O heaves out a long sigh.

“T-Thank you. Please, go ahead. Don’t mind me.” As you complete your sentence, your hand finds their favourite bean bag chair and lets yourself plop onto it, releasing all the strength you gathered earlier just enough to keep you standing. “Okay, I just hope that you’ll not regret this.” S/O says. “You can cross it off the list as you have one less thing to worry about.” Your tone flat. Finally it has come to this... God... I pray for you to give me the strength to not break down in front of the only person I’ll ever love in my lifetime. Please. Please. Please.

S/O clears their throats and goes on, “The private investigator that I hired 3 months ago has managed to scour information on my parents’ whereabouts. Last week, he handed me the set of documentations related to my case file. Our interaction concluded with a final payment of their service fees and case closed.” S/O takes another breath while he walks over to his desk to retrieve a huge ring file. They put the file in your hands and takes a place on the floor beside you. Pointing to a few of what seems like copies of family photographs, “See the woman in blue? She’s my birth mother. Her name is Grace.” You see an attractive, dainty lady in a pastel blue dress with dandelion prints that tugs around her small delicate figure.

“She’s truly beautiful.”

“...And you no less. I couldn’t agree more.” A half-smile breaks into S/O’s lips. Huh? A compliment out of nowhere...did I just hear them wrongly? Perhaps, I was being a tad bit delusional. You quickly shake it off.

“Where is she residing at now? W-w-Y-you could visit.” You pull yourself back from hopeful as you remind yourself of your promise earlier.

“She no longer lives in our world.” You shrink and apologise, as S/O points at another photo of an impassive looking, tall and slender man holding a newborn baby who you can only assume it is S/O. There was also Grace who looked extra pale and fragile, stood by his side with a weak smile that feels so forced it causes your body shift in an inexplicable uneasiness. “Whatever you’re feeling now, I assure you that it’s absolutely true. This photo, taken just a week before mom was left with no choice but to entrust her baby to Mother Delia, one of her childhood friend that was not made known to my father - who also happened to be running a small children's home.” S/O pauses and hesitates. You knew they grew up in a reputable orphanage that Mother Delia tirelessly developed, but as confused as you are to why they were sent there in the first place, S/O too was always kept in the dark about their biological caretakers.

“It’s okay, please stop if telling me these is going to put you through such pain.” S/O understands you too well to know that you are just being considerate, but your curiosity will eat you up. They hang their head to face the floor, to hide the emotions that they expect to roll into them shortly, “That man was my father, Raymond, who happened to be the criminal of Mom’s murder which took place almost immediately after she sent me off to the orphanage.” Caught off-guard with the knowledge, you winced. Tears start to well up by the sides of your eyes when you think about how this must have been so much more devastating to your love. Momentarily, you couldn’t come up with anything appropriate to say to S/O that’ll take the agony away from them.

“Raymond’s family was well-off and he managed his family’s business after the passing of my grandparents. He was the only child, just like me. They met at a bistro bar where Mom happened to work as a part-time waitress to support herself and pay for her own education. My maternal grandparents left Mom alone due to a traffic accident when she just turned 18. Raymond and Mom hit it off quickly, fell in love and then got married by the time she was 24; he was 6 years elder. Mom resigned from her job and became a full time housewife as Raymond took care of business, they lived a comfortable and lavish life. Things were great until the 2nd year into their union, Raymond made a bad decision in business that cost his entire fortune including the inheritance from my grandparents, to a competitor; who was known to have been one of Mom’s admirer from the bistro bar.”

You listen intently as S/O’s tries to move their face to look anywhere but in your direction, only for you to notice the grimace laced with both fresh and dried trails of tears on their facade. Only if I’m allowed to get closer to you... I’d do anything to protect you... Even if it takes my life. S/O straightens up, “It was catastrophic enough for Raymond. He shrivelled into a completely different person. He accused Mom and conveniently left her to take the blame and face all the adversities alone while he wasted himself away in alcohol and illegal gambling. From his newfound bad habits then, he accumulated substantially high amount of debts, became abusive to Mom, and continued to hold her responsible for his failures. Mom soon discovered that she was pregnant... with me. In consideration of her baby’s safety, she was determined to leave him; he found out and took advantage of Mom’s vulnerability. Raymond threatened to harm her body so bad that she’d never be able to have her baby see the light if she left him, so Mom put up with him until the day her pregnancy was due even after the abuse escalated.”

Blowing a troubled sigh, S/O goes on to say, “3 days after Mom gave birth to me, Raymond visited her at the hospital, the exact day that the only piece of my biological family photo was captured, the same one you just saw earlier. Before he left the hospital, he whispered to Mom that he had to be hidden from moneylenders for awhile and intends to take the baby home on his next visit, finally assured her that they’d become rich again. Mom’s panic button was pushed, she instantaneously knew what Raymond was planning: He wanted to sell the baby. She grew terrified cos she had no idea exactly when would he drop by again. Coincidentally, Mom bumped into and reunited with her childhood friend - Mother Delia, who sent one of her children for medical check at the same hospital. Devoid of options, Mom spilled out every single detail about Raymond’s plans to her childhood friend and studied the time patterns of patrol nurses from dusk to dawn for days before decided it was time to escape the building with me. Mom insisted to go back to the hospital so that no traces could have led Raymond to me. Raymond was there the moment she arrived back at her confinement ward. Infuriated, he beat her to her death as she refuse to reveal my whereabouts... The rest was history from there.”

A thought flashes across your mind and you promptly start flipping through the ring file. “Y/N, What are you doing? I’ve told you everything, please... It’s time to keep your promise now.” their tone of voice unsettled. You arrive at a section of the documentation that explains Raymond’s incarceration, and the pieces fit in perfectly. Raymond was charged with a mere 25 years imprisonment to a 2nd Degree Murder, he’s due for official release in the next 5 days. Now you know why large sums of monies were paid from your company account to services that were foreign to you when you checked the audit report. You strangely find yourself in a relief. They’re acting exactly like their selfless mother, Grace, worried that Raymond might recognise them in the press related to our company and come after us - be it for money or for revenge, and are pressed for time to get me out of possible dangers the best way they know how.

Feigning tears, S/O muttered in remorse “I-I’ve just recognised Mother Delia’s intention when she kept apologising over our phone conversation starting weeks before her passing, it must have been so difficult for her to carry such a secret burden on her shoulders when she always emphasised the importance of an honest life. I-I’ve a-also been utilising our funds to pay off the private detective agency fees and lawyers legal charges to find an alternative to prevent Raymond’s release... W-without informing you. Unfortunately, nothing much could be done legitimately even if I wanted him behind bars forever. I’ll never acknowledge him as my father. Not after all the things that he did and all the responsibilities he shirked from. Y-you have every rights to hold a grudge against me b-but I’d appreciate it if you could do as you promised.”

Losing S/O is more lethal to you than losing to Raymond, and/or a rapidly depleting monetary reserve that you both have spent the years sustaining, you wish they’d know but now you have a promise to keep...

You coolly rise from the bean bag chair, look S/O in their face, flash them the most demure smile you can offer, making their heart skip a beat. “Can I please get my last bear hug before I leave?” you chirped. S/O is totally puzzled by the positive change in your reaction; assuming that you may just be putting up a cheery front to minimise the hurt, they oblige to your request anyway. The thought that this would be the last chance to revel in the sweet scent of your presence is tearing them apart too. They expected that they’d have to be going through a tough battle that you always put up before you are to give in to them, thinking that they might have just succeeded in their effort to let you go to safety this time...

You’d like to send them off-limits from their expectations, your heart and soul danced with glee at the thought of your secret little reverie.

“I promise, that I’ll leave after you tell me the truth... ...and head to the kitchen to prepare our supper. I’m famished.” You whispered into their ears while your head rests upon their shoulders, still stiff from surprise.

Before S/O could recover from agape and utter a response, you chime in and set forth a new promise, “I’ll never ever leave you, S/O. I’ll always be by your side no matter what happens, to support you, to cherish you, to care for you, to understand you, to be there for you and to love you for all of who you are and what you are, regardless of what is contained in your past. We are to Grace-fully experience the highs and lows of life and grow old together. This I promise you, all of those things I said, I promise to keep it till the day I die!” Before you know it, the arms that wrapped around your waist tightens to a firm embrace like you’re their lifeline, and you feel a side of your shoulders start to get drenched by warm droplets of tears. As long as you love me, no matter how you push me away, I’ll find a way by your side to stay.

“You’re impossible, Y/N. I can’t believe you’re still here, knowing full well all the hazards that may entail a relationship with me. I promise only you’ll have my love forever, please never doubt that.”

“I don’t think you’ll ever be able to get rid of meee!” You hum as you return the hug with a same intensity that matches S/O’s own and nuzzle against their neck.

“I love you, S/O. I really do. Thank you so much for trusting me, my guardian angel.”

“I love you more than you’ll ever know, my peculiar celestial beauty. I thank God everyday for letting me have the honour to hold you. Thank you for stepping into my life, Y/N.” . . . Aaahhhhhh my heart is swelling, or maybe it’s just me. Anyways if you are reading this, THANK YOU for reading!

#love #i love you #vows #short story #writing #romance #couple #sweet #love story #cheesy much?

1 note · View note