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#ghoul boys are back and they're better than ever
iamthecomet · 1 year
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it's been a long day and Aether is stressed!!! Mountain knows how to make him feel better though ;)
(could be fluff or smut, i won't complain)
Soft, stressed big boys. Just fluff/comfort. Because I said so.
It's been one of those days. The kind where everything Aether touches seems to go wrong. From messing up one too many times during rehearsal to accidentally lighting dinner on fire, he's had enough. It doesn't help, that on top of not being able to do anything right, he had more things to do than he ever does.
He agreed to work a couple hours in the infirmary to cover for another ghoul. He told Rain he'd help him with a difficult part of a new song. He offered to repot plants with Mountain.
By the time he drags himself out to the greenhouse he's sore, and tired, and miserable. The weight of the day dragging his shoulders forward, curling his body in on itself. The smell of burnt vegetables is stuck in his hair. He just wants to take a shower, forget any of this happened, go to sleep. But he said he'd help. So he's helping. He pushes through the greenhouse door. Mountain is standing at a long table in the center. He has his fingers deep in a terracotta pot, curling his fingers around the roots of a small plant Aether doesn't know the name of. Aether knows Mountain finds this meditative. That the feeling of dirt grinding under his fingernails doesn't set his teeth on edge. And sometimes, Aether agrees with him. Sometimes the oppressive humidity and the dense green scent of the greenhouse makes him breath a little easier too.
Not today.
Today it's too hot in here. There are too many things to smell, instead of mingling into something that smells like life, it's like they're warring with each other. Dirt. Lavender. Roses. Tomato vines. Aether cringes and walks forward. He said he'd help. He promised. He's here. Mountain looks over at him as the door closes softly. His brows furrow in as he drags his emerald gaze of Aether's body. He pulls his hands from the dirt, leaving the plant where it is. He wipes his hands off on his apron. "Aeth?" "You said you needed help. I can--"
Mountain shakes his head, his face contorting in confusion. "Aeth, you look..."
"Tell me what to do."
Mountain sighs. He cards one of his hands through his hair, it's loose around his shoulders. Aether really looks at him, barefoot, shoulders relaxed, dirt smeared across his cheek. Mountain doesn't tell him what to do, doesn't give him anything resembling instruction. Instead, he reaches behind him and unties the green apron. He takes it off and tosses it onto the table.
"What's wrong?"
Aether is supposed to be the intuitive one. Mountain isn't supposed to be able to take one glance at him and see him to his core. Aether crosses his arms.
"It's been a long day. I'm ok. Let me help."
"You don't want to," Mountain says. There's no malice or expectation in it. It's an observation, a gentle one. Mountain closes the distance between them. Aether doesn't move. He tips his head back to look up at Mountain when he gets close.
He's close enough now that Aether can see the freckles dotted across his cheeks, can see that there is more than just one smear of dirt on his skin. Mountain puts both of his dirty palms on Aether's cheeks, he holds him in place so he can really look at him. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"No," Aether says firmly. "It's fine."
Mountain rolls his eyes, but doesn't push. He just bends to press a soft kiss to Aether's lips. It's chaste, gentle.
"Can I help?"
Aether shrugs. "Maybe." Mountain sighs heavily. He laces his fingers with Aether's and pulls him out of the greenhouse, letting the door swing shut behind them. Mountain strides off across the darkening abbey grounds with Aether in tow. "What about your plants?"
"They'll be fine until tomorrow." Mountain pulls him toward the abbey, into the pools of golden light spilling from the upper windows. They go in the back entrance to the ghouls quarters. There's a peel of ruckus laughter from the common room. But Mountain tugs Aether down the hall, past it, until they're at the end of the hall, in front of Mountain's room. Mountain opens the door and gestures for Aether to step inside. Mountain's room is a contrast to the greenhouse. Dark, low humidity, cool. It smells alive, but not overwhelmingly so. Mountain closes the door behind him and pushes Aether toward the bed. "Mount--" "Relax. Let me help." Aether lets himself be pulled to the bed, lets Mountain wrap him in the cocoon of his arms.
Mountain rubs the back of Aether's neck--the spot Aether always rubs when Mountain gets one of his headaches.
"You do too much," Mountain whispers, pulling Aether down to lay his head over Mountain's heart. Aether isn't used to being held like this. He's big. He holds everyone else. But Mountain holds him tight, cradling his head against his chest. And between the steady thump of Mountain's heart, and the feeling of those calloused fingers against his overly tense muscles, he finds himself melting. Sagging against Mountain's body. "I do what I'm asked to do." "You're allowed to say no."
"Am I?" Aether asks. Mountains shirt smells like evergreen and rich soil. Home. Mountain slips his fingers into the short hair at the back Aether's head, dragging blunt nails over his scalp. He tips his head to press a soft kiss between Aether's horns. "Yes. You're allowed to take breaks too, and have bad days." Aether shrugs, "but you all need me."
"We need you whole. And healthy. And happy. Not this. Not burnt out and miserable. You're useless like this." "No--" "Stop. You know I'm right." Mountain rubs his hand up and down Aether's spine, he presses his fingers into the places along the back of his shoulders and neck that ache from the tension. "Rest." "I was going to help you," Aether says quietly. Just as Mountain starts to purr under him. A deep rumble that only serves to make Aether go more boneless. "Tomorrow," Mountain says. It sounds like a promise. He kisses in between Aether's horns again. "You can help me tomorrow."
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firephoenix23 · 7 months
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A Tad Discussion
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So, I kind of wanted to do this post for a while now. I was just never sure how to collect my thoughts about it because Tad as a character is very... interesting to me, specifically his motivation for why he hates Eli and his hatred for his dad despite acting almost just like him. So, sit back and relax as I try my best to understand and explain Tad.
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Tad himself, as a character was obviously not very well-liked when he was first introduced. Despite the fandom being really small at the time our tiny but mighty fandom had a bone to pick with Tad because he's just Twist but almost worse. It's like those goofy fanfic where they're like and then it turns out that along Dr. Blakk had an evil son or daughter. Like it's just really lazy and we already had a character that the fandom really liked do this plot so much better
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But I don't want to talk about Twist's motivation (I'll save that hopefully for another day), but I want to talk about Tad. First of all, his motivation for hating his dad really doesn't make sense... at first, I will explain. For example, he constantly says that he's picking up where his FEEBLE father left off and Tad I don't know if you've SEEN your father but that man is not feeble for the life of him lol.
But he continues to go on to insult him calling his dad a fool and even when Boss Ember calls him junior since I assume his full name is Thaddius Blakk Jr., it really pisses him off and his points his blaster at Boss Ember saying he's no one's junior. Speaking of his name it's interesting that he goes by Tad and not Thad. I guess you could argue that he was trying to hide himself from Eli and the Shane gang but considering how much he hates being called junior I feel like that's not the case.
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It's just strange. He's really pissed off at being called Junior and acts like he doesn't want to associate with him but then ACTS just like him. I mean not completely, he doesn't ghoul Peiper which is better than you can say for Twist, but it's almost like Tad knows the ghouling is wrong. Maybe that was a way to differentiate from his father. I know they say it's to control the ghouls better but still
Either way, what does this leave us with. A boy who had a horrible life on the surface that acts like his dad but doesn't want to associate himself with him and who literally says that he wants to be twice the man he was. Sounds like bad writing sure but I think it's something different. I think Tad is overcompensating.
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I mean think about it. Imagine you're Tad. You have a horrible life on the surface and your father either left you or doesn't even know about you only to spend all his time in this fantasy world building a business and a life that you're not a part of.
Only to later find a map or create a map I can't remember which one it was that leads to this underground, and you think I'm gonna go see my dad only to find that he was defeated by as he says "A kid my own age" I would be pretty mad too and it's clear just like Twist, Tad is taking out his problems as his frustrations out on Eli. Also, I will say I feel like the "evilness" from Tad came outta no nowhere or it could just be bad writing.
Either way, I still think he's overcompensating for his daddy issues. Everyone does something different. Some run away and become the protector of the world, some steal treasures, some become their enemy's associate, and others resurrect their father's business lol
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But to finish off, Tad clearly wants to show the world or eh Slugterra that he is clearly better than his dad and a better villain. He's kinda like, oh, you were a businessman and left me or didn't know about me well, I’m gonna be a better businessman than you ever were, and I’ll prove that leaving me behind was a mistake. He hates his father so much that he wants to prove to everyone and himself that he can be better than him and kind of show off that he never needed him. At least, that’s the kind of vibe I get from Tad.
I mean in the end, I'm probably just reading waaay too much into this character. More likely than not the writers probably were just like ooooo how cool would it be for Blakk to have a son that also lived on the surface and then betrays the gang... as if we haven't seen that before. Rip Twist
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fourleggedocto · 1 year
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Woke up early and got a little silly goofy, so here's just another short installment of "thoughts Octo wakes up too and just can't resist" Girls Club addition, featuring transmasc Dew and non-binary Rain.
"Rain is right there, it can't be a girls only club." The ghoulettes all hang off of Rain and gasp, offended.
"It's ok, he doesn't get it," Rain says much too soberly for the context. Dew rolls his eyes and considers just giving up, because he knows he's not winning this one, but then again when has he gone down without a fight?
"It's a no dicks allowed club, duh," Rain finishes.
"But I don't-" Dew cuts himself off, not liking the downright predatory looks that cross all three girls' faces.
"No, finish it. What don't you have Dewdrop?" Cumulus teases, leaning ever so closer to the fire ghoul and cocking a perfect eyebrow. Dew sucks in a breath through clenched teeth.
"I don't have a dick," he forces out. Now four sets of eyebrows raised at him, all in varying degrees of challenging him. He quickly feels the fight drain out of him. He's so out of his element. He gets the sinking feeling that the best way he's getting out of this is in a skirt soaked with his slick. It sends a shiver down his spine that he'll swear up and down is fear of anyone asks.
Suddenly all the attention is turned off him at once. A silent conversation happens on the other side of the doorway, one that they're obviously playing up so Dew can just barely catch the meanings without ever really feeling like he knows. The three pairs of hands hang onto Rain again when wide, pleading eyes turn back to the fidgeting fire ghoul.
"Oh Rain, this big scary boy is trying to take the girls only club away from us." Sunshine pouts and nuzzles more into the water ghoul's side. They rub at the base of her horns and shush her gently. Dew scoffs.
"He did say he's not a boy," Rain mutters into Cirrus's head on their other side, eyes locked on Dew.
"I did not! I said I don't have a dick, asshole."
"I'm getting a lot of mixed messages Rainy," Cirrus huffs. The others nod in agreement.
"You should double check Rainy, just so we know we're safe," Cumulus adds. Dew blanches, backing away a few steps with his hands up.
"I don't like what you're implying-" backing up proves to be a bad move, because it only lets Rain close in on him faster, pinning him to the wall behind him with a lanky hand. Their other shoves below Dew's waistband, fingers expertly framing his hard clit and giving a few teasing strokes so it fills out. Dew's protest cuts off into a reedy moan.
"Sounds like a girl," Cirrus lilts, now draped over the shorter two while they watch Rain's incredibly invasive inspection. Rain pulls their hand away, rubbing the slick between their fingers and pulling them apart to see it web between them. They hum low, dangerously.
"Bad news girls, he's definitely got a dick."
"You're a fucking dick, you know that?" Dew pants, brain still trying to catch up with what just happened while all his blood flows south.
"Yeah," Rain sighs dreamily, sticking their fingers into Dew's open mouth. His eyes slip shut as he starts to suck on instinct, cursing himself for it but not able to stop at the taste of himself mixing with a metallic earthiness that's so undeniably Rain.
"You did such a good job protecting up Rainy, I think you deserve to have that cute little pussy filled huh?" Sunshine praises, and Rain melts, all the playful dominance immediately draining away in just another display to make the fire ghoul's head spin. They pull their fingers out with a wet pop and wipe the spit on Dew's cheek.
Dew slides down the wall when Rain's door clicks shut, wondering what Swiss is up to at this moment, mourning the fact he might end up in a skirt anyway, but it'll at least be better than Rain leaving him like this.
(And then Rain gets three girlcocks and once and if you're really patient you might get to read that too)
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jungle-angel · 1 year
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11. Fall baking
With Rhett Abbott
( its one of my favorite things to do! Baking is a huge part of my family especially things like apple /pear baked goods. Home made ice cream, meat pie, candied carrots and oatmeal products!)
BAAAAAABES!!!!! Ya had me at Rhett Abbott (lol)
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Rhett was exhausted, even as he climbed over the paddock fence and back onto the grass. He wanted nothing more than to head up to the barn loft and go right to sleep in the hay, flopping right into it as he often did at night after the kids were all put to bed. Fall was always the hardest on the ranch and with it came more work to be done than during the summer.
It had been a hell of a morning. The kids had all been so excited since Halloween was right around the corner and they'd get to wear their costumes to school. The girls of course were no problem, but the boys? That was an entirely different story.
Tatum and Tanner had gotten really into watching Stranger Things on the weekends and both had wanted to go as Eddie for Halloween. You and Rhett saw absolutely no problem with this......until the rude awakening he had received that morning.
Usually Rhett got up about an hour after Royal did to go and help him with the cows, but Royal insisted that he try and get some sleep. Unfortunately, the two little ghouls had thought otherwise, both excited as ever to act out the part of Eddie Munson. Somehow they had gotten a hold of Rhett's old cassette player, hooked it up to the stereo system in the living room and proceeded to blast out "Master of Puppets", waking their father and you from your blissful sleep. Deep down Rhett was laughing, but still had given the boys an earful before you sent them and the girls off to school.
Back to the house he went, tired as hell, but surprised when the heavy smell of cinnamon, nutmeg and cloves reached his nose. "Darlin' you in here?" he called.
"Yep!" you called back.
Rhett entered the kitchen and sure enough, there you were, scooping something from a metal bowl onto a cookie sheet. "Whatcha got?" he asked. "Smells good."
"Pumpkin cookies," you told him. "A friend of mine gave me this recipe a while back and the kids will probably be hankering for something when they get home."
"Thank God they won't be home till three-thirty," Rhett chuckled.
"I hate to tell you babe," you said. "But it's a half day today and a three day weekend."
"Oh fuck me!" Rhett groaned, running his hands over his face.
"Well, I'd like to but unfortunately these have to go right in the oven," you laughed.
"I might just call Wes and see if he can bring'em on over to their place over on the Res," Rhett mused. "I mean, both sets of kids run around like a pack of wild coyotes anyways."
"Whatever you wanna do," you told him.
"What can it hurt?" Rhett said to you. "I mean, they'll wander till sunset and if they come home with cuts and bruises, then we fix it."
You shook your head and smiled as you finished your work before Rhett gave Wes a call to let him know that the kids could get off at his place and stay until dinner.
"Here, lemme help you," he said.
"You sure?"
"I've got nothin better to do today," Rhett said, his crooked little grin beginning to show. "The kids will be with Wes and Nora until dinner and all the critters have been taken care of."
"Alright, if you insist," you told him.
You were pleasantly surprised by how quick he was with everything, grabbing whatever spices you needed from the cabinet and sticking the cookie sheets in the oven before taking the others out to cool. "You sure they're supposed to look like that?" he asked. "They only look half done."
"They're supposed to look like that Rhett," you laughed.
You and him spent the better part of that late morning and into the afternoon in that kitchen, the heavy smells of cinnamon, nutmeg and all the smells of fall hanging about in the kitchen. Once the last of it had gone into the oven, you and Rhett stood by, his arms around yours as you leaned against the counters and him half asleep as he rested his head against your shoulder.
Rhett's head shot right up when the timer went off on the oven. You laughed a little, tapping against his arms as he let you loose long enough to get the last tray of cookies out of the oven. "If you wanna go upstairs and take a nap," you told him. "We've got plenty of time before Wes brings the little miscreants back."
"I might," Rhett said. "Care to join?"
"I wouldn't mind at all," you said, setting the tray on top of the stove and shutting everything off.
Up you went with your husband, the two of you practically falling into your bed before you curled into each other. Though fall came with all its hard work and heavy toil, you and Rhett never failed to find a moment of peace with each other.
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chasesylvan · 1 year
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I struggle a lot with asking for things even if they're being requested,, i.e this, my mind blanks and i want so desperately to give you as many ideas as i want but i can't bring myself to ask for a single thing.
Dew struggles too, always subconsciously putting everyone above him, it's always what everyone wants, not what he needs, he tries to ask aether for help but he doesn't even know how to begin to tell him that he needs help, luckily, aether is a good boy and understands just what dew wants and needs...
Dew angst comfort blease,, for the sad tortured souls who read fics and the sad tortured creatures (me) who listened to too much mitski today...
Dew puts everybody’s needs and wants before his, and he doesn’t notice but it’s putting a terrible toll on his mental health. Dew’s been in his room for a couple days, thoughts and thoughts swimming through his brain so fast, even he can’t catch up to them. He hears soft but firm knocks on his door but can’t find the power to get out of bed and open the door. So he sits there and just waits for whoever it is to leave, he’s not worth anybody’s time, is what runs through his brain.
His door opens, he must’ve left it unlocked, idiot, he tells himself. Aether walks through his door and is horrified at the state of Dew’s room. Photos strewn across his floor, some broken and out of their frame, his clothes everywhere and the smaller ghoul in his bed, sheets tangled around his lithe body. “Oh, Dewy, honey. What’s happened?” Aether gestures around his whole room, Dew just shrugs and goes back to staring into nothingness. Aether walks over to the bed and brings the little ghoul into his arms and everything breaks loose in Dew. He starts to shake and sob loudly and he repeatedly apologises to Aether about not coming to them for help or just comfort in general. “Shhh, shh, it’s not your fault at all, honeydew.”
“But it is! I bottle everything up and then the minute someone shows me or gives me comfort, everything explodes!” He continues to cry loudly while clutching onto Aether for dear life. Aether just holds the small ghoul to his chest and he rocks him from side to side which ends up lulling the tiny ghoul to sleep. Aether is gonna be there when he wakes up, cause he doesn’t want Dew to have another terrible sleep, Dew might not have seen it, but he’s been keeping track of Dew and he saw this coming.
He got himself and Dew comfortable and laid down to sleep, and he would hopefully talk to Dew about this tomorrow.
Morning comes and Dew is still peacefully sleeping on Aether’s chest, Aether admires how pretty Dew looks when he’s sleeping, he was admiring for maybe 10 minutes when the smaller ghoul began to stir awake. His eyes fluttered open and looked up towards Aether and gave him a sleepy smile. “Good morning, gorgeous.” Aether said in a deep, sleepy voice. Dew mumbled back a good morning and sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.
“We need to talk, Dewy.” Dew nodded and knew this was gonna happen. “Why don’t you come to us for help?” Dew looked down in shame and shrugged. “I’unno, ever since I’ve been summoned, I was always told to put people before me and I was never taught that I was allowed to ask for help, so I just didn’t come to you guys for help, m’sorry..” Aether tilted his chin up and told him, “You are ALWAYS allowed to ask for help, it is not a crime to ask for help. We are your bandmates, pack mates and everything else, we are here for each others needs.” This caused Dew to start crying again and he hugged Aether as if he’d let go, he’d shatter.
“I don’t think I could ever find a better pack then I have now.” Dew kissed Aether and they opted for morning cuddles rather than going to morning mass. Dew could not be more thankful for Aether and the rest of his bandmates.
eeee i had so much fun writing this! hope you enjoy it as well, raven! and everyone else who reads it! ^_^ <3
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muutos · 1 year
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It is easy to get swept up in the thrumming energy of a crowd, to feel the presence of a body behind him and react without really thinking. They want it, the congregation, and Papa Emeritus the Fourth reacts as any good Papa should. He turns on his heel with elegance, almost gliding, like a figure skater, mid-lyric, and grins to find Swiss there. Their usual set-up required too much space this venue could not accommodate; the multi-tasking ghoul could not be banished to his normal pedestal dais because it simply did not exist for this ritual.
All the better.
They want it. They want it. They yearn for things to turn into bite-sized tiktoks and reels, spreading from one show across the internet like a virus.
And he has given it to them, in small doses. Tiny little tidbits of dances, of leaning against Dewdrop, of caressing Aether's thighs as he drops to his knees next to him like a damsel on the cover of an old fantasy romance novel.
Copia pulls Swiss to him like they are magnets, colliding their bodies together in a way that isn't elegant or dance-like, cradling the back of the Ghoul's head before dipping him low and pressing their lips together before releasing him. It is all one fluid motion, gone and done in half a heart beat. Blink and you miss it. And Copia sings on.
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swiss is presently absent -- oh so blissful, during the majority of rituals. feet planted as hips gyrate. spinning, with human hands pressing microphone stand & leaning his weight upon it. pendulum swinging his body more rhythmically -- more shapely, & with much more finesse. round, wide movements entrance more-so than apologetic ones, & swiss was never one to hold back. especially when it concerns papa. papa emeritus the fourth, & the only papa he's ever known. sprung to this mortal coil, with the sole purpose of multi-purpose functionality. not specially created, but selected nonetheless. & he takes his role very seriously. loving & caring for the honorary emeritus, with almost awe-like qualities.
the reason for his being here, swiss is enamored with the glittering glamour & the pleasures of modern living.
both hands on the mic, swiss flashes quick teeth with a bashful yet playfully teasing demeanor. longs for papa's attention, since he doesn't receive it as often as the ghouls centre stage. often jealous of aether & dewdrop, for suckling the best of papa's flirtatious interactions. those swiss clings to, like they're the most sincerest & heartfelt of praise. the proverbial good boy -- attention making him feel worthy. & he encourages it. cocking his head, whilst he does a salacious little roaming of hand along chest. just as his hips begin to wind side to side. opposite fingers wiggling in a tame greeting, beckoning papa closer.
hands make it into belt loops, hooking thumbs to pull his hips with a haul. lolling his head about in the papa's sweeping towards him. he feels all the more a part of things, down here. enjoying his ability to move around... anticipating.
& when papa comes forth to replace his hands, hips collide...
giggling, they knock together. veiny hands pressing into papa's shoulders, whilst gloved fingers touch the base of his neck... hairs made to stand on end... the surprise is enough to almost crack swiss' gums open... or for his tail to spring forth, & beat against the floor in delight. but luckily, it doesn't. fangs just protruding when he smiles, & copia extends him downward.
fingers clutch fabric, whilst copia presses their lips together. & swiss scrambles to reciprocate with fervor, before papa flips him upright. leaving swiss hanging onto the microphone, when papa turns to leave. eventually falling to hang by his side.
he grins, & looks down at his boots with an innocent swing of the hips. hand raising to his mouth, in tiny little giggles. for the fans.. for those same reels...
but also, for himself.
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Do you ever think about the Tsukinamis undying pride? That Carla and Shin could in fact turn humans into (half)founders but refuse to do so? Because turning a human into a demon would require for the human to drink the demon's blood, but their pride stops them from doing so because they just can't let a human feed from them.
I don't actually think they can turn humans into founders though?
I mean correct me if this has come up somewhere, but if I remember correctly, the only time Carla or Shin bring up turning a human into a demon, it's in their LP routes, and even then I think Carla says he could only do it because Yui already had the kleinoid? (I haven't been over LP in a while though >_>)
Anyway I tend to treat LP as psuedo canon if that makes sense because like this is such a weird detail to bring up and then literally never mention again.
And outside of this small incident I don't think they ever mention it, so I would assume that one of the differences between vampires and founders is that vampires can turn humans but founders can't. Especially as even though Carla and Shin are prideful, I think if they could just grab some random human woman off the streets, turn her and get to making more founders then they absolutely would. You have to remember they have no problem using Yui when she is technically human even if she has founder blood.
The other thing to consider is that I know there's a rumor that the Mukami brothers can't have kids (because they're half-bloods) but I do not know their routes well enough to know whether this is actually canon or not (and the DL fandom is notorious for having unconfirmed rumors). Anyway, if the above is canon (if anyone knows for sure, let me know) then I don't actually know if there would be much point in Carla and Shin turning humans as in that case they would just be left with a bunch of ex-humans they looked down on with no way to carry on their own bloodline which is part of the objective.
I agree that both Tsukinami brothers have an issue with pride (Shin definitely more so than Carla) but I don't think this is the best example of it. I think a much better example that we see in canon would be Shin saying he'd rather die than watch Carla, the future founder king, lower his head before the Vibora. And for Carla it would be in Lost Eden where he initially refuses to form alliances with the othe demon clans and then says he would rather die from Endzeit as a founder than become a ghoul (admittedly he goes back on this two of his endings but again this is showing he has less of an issue with pride than Shin).
Anyway TL;DR the Tsukinami brothers do have issues with pride but as far as I'm aware there's no canon evidence that they can turn ordinary humans into founders (and personally I think if they could just do that once or twice to solve the issue of their species dying out then they would). Plus we have to remember on a metatextual level that Rejet couldn't have included this plotline because if they did, the boys would have had no true need of Yui and so DF wouldn't have gone down as it did.
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night-fall-moon · 19 days
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Chapter 4: Remiss—Reckon
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previous chapter  masterlist next chapter
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As the case came to a close one of the Suzuya squad members abruptly spoke up, "By the way, I thought the Q's squad had five members?"
"Oh, the other two are..." Reina rubbed the back of her neck anxiously, knowing that Shirazu most likely gave up trying to wake up the blue sloth.
The other two—Mutsuki and Urie—beside her murmured quietly. "I wonder if he couldn't wake up Saiko.."
"Can't be helped, but it doesn't reflect well on Q's squad."
Mutsuki looked at the vacant seat across from him, "their squad leader isn't here yet either." He noted to the boy next to him.
And just on time the short male sprinted through the door making quite the entrance.
"Sorry I'm late!" He marched on in as his squad rose to greet him, a rush of good mornings flooded the room.
Once introductions were set, Suzuya turned to the two instructors and greeted them with open arms—but instead of a hug, Suzuya instead began to pat the taller man down. Handful after handful of candy piling up in the palms of his hands—stuffing them into his own pockets for later. He then turned to the girl and stuck his hands out expecting her to pull out another handful of treats just for him.
"You know candy'll give you cavities Juuzou." She said as she handed the small handful to him.
"This is less than last time." He pouted as he counted each piece.
"Did you not hear what I just said? Haise gave you enough as it is." She quirked a brow at him.
He smiled at her and popped the lollipop she gave him into his mouth before turning to Abara.
"Sir, the meeting has concluded.." the taller man noted.
"Then gimme the short version. But before you do-"
"I'm sorry... we're late!!" A loud voice echoed throughout the room and small snores could be heard from behind the man.
"Shirazu?!"
"Im impressed. Maybe putting Shirazu in charge was a good idea, Haise." She smiled at the younger boy as he blushed at the compliment, behind him Saiko seemed to have been half awake, mumbling incoherent words.
"I met them in front of the elevator.. give me the rundown once they're seated, please." Juuzou finished his sentence as Abara nodded at his word.
"Sorry Sassan, Nana.. we're so late.." he frowned.
"I-it's alright. Thanks for bringing her here... you did great!!" Haise smiled awkwardly trying to calm the panting boy.
"Stop acting like you did something bad," Reina rolled her eyes at the dramatic boy, "just be proud about the fact that you were able to bring her here. Give her to me, just sit." She extended her arms out and reached out to grab the drooling girl on his back.
She carried her to an empty seat and tried to wake her up.
"C'mon Saiko, you're here already might as well try and be present for the meeting, yeah?" She cupped the girl's chubby cheeks. Instead the girl just kept nodding off, a string of drool dropping onto the older girls arm.
Instead of getting grossed out by the wet feeling she just brushed it off and continued shaking the sleepy girl awake. "Saiko... if you try your best throughout this mission I'll buy you that new DLC you've been wanting." She bribed.
How the girl caught her words, she'll never know, but they seemed to work as the weariness was slowly washing off of her and a sudden consciousness came to front for a bit.
"You promise?" Her raspy voice called out quietly.
"Have I ever broken a promise, Saiko?"
"Nuh-uh."
"So you promise?"
"Pinky promise?"
"Alright, pinky promise." Both girls intertwined their fingers together swearing not to break this vow, not wanting to disappoint the other as it'd give them something valuable in return.
A significant gift from the girl she looks up to, and a better relationship with the girl she wants to protect the world from.
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A ghoul who consumed only genitals from the opposite sex wasn't uncommon to hear, but was pretty unsettling to hear the least. As her name suggested, she only ate testicles—and her traces were rather odd.
Cases of human trafficking in ghoul society wasn't uncommon at all. After all that's how the Gourmet's eat after all—and ghoul restaurants were still as popular as ever, but that may just be considered kidnapping and homicide.
"Well..?" Haise muttered into hi in-earpiece.
Seated at the designated restaurant, the Quinx squad was separated by tables. A group of three by the back of the restaurant and one closer to where The Nutcracker and her accomplice were seated, those being Mutsuki, Shirazu, and Saiko.
Haise, Reina and Urie situated farther away guiding the rest of the squad from afar. So far they were able to barely get anything in either of them.
"It's no good. My ears aren't up to par today." Shirazu scolded himself growing increasingly frustrated at his incompetence during an important point of their main mission.
Turning to the small blue haired girl, Shirazu nudged her and asked if she could hear anything, but all that came out was her describing the sound of the meat grilling in the kitchen. Unable to hold back his frustration he took it out in the girl and whacked her on the head while cursing her out.
Sighing, Reina looked up from her phone and turned to the other two boys beside her and noticed that they were equally as stressed, though Urie was hiding it a lot better than Haise. Speaking of the boy, he looked to be lost in thought until Shirazu spoke into the earpiece.
"What do we do? S-should we move closer?"
"No. Knowing that when ghouls are out they're already hyper aware of their surroundings. They'll just get more suspicious of us. Plus, you guys look so out of place." She scrolled on her phone and mumbled the last part more so to herself, but Urie happened to overhear her but decided not to comment.
"Shit, I can almost hear them too-" Shirazu's arm pushed his cup over the edge of the table. The fragile glass shattering as it came into contact with the floor. Shards of glass and juice spreading all over the floor.
Haise covered his face in dread, Saiko looked at the boy in an unimpressed manner. Mutsuki turned to nervously look at the boy who was probably shitting bricks and pissing himself right about now.
Trying to act nonchalantly Urie took a sip of his coffee, and Reina continued to scroll in her phone acting as if nothing ever happened.
The Nutcracker and her accomplice turned to look over her shoulder back at the blonde before she got up to pour herself a cup of iced coffee. Her gaze never leaving his.
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"I'm sorry Investigator Suzuya... the Nut seems to be returning home earlier than we expected. She may have caught onto us. I'm sorry. It was my fault.. yes sir." Haise cut the call and turned to the sulking boy.
"Squad leader. It's alright. We'll make up for it next time."
"Shirazu. Look at me," the girl ordered. He hesitantly looked up at her, "Mistakes happen. You'll get used to things not going as planned. Cheer up."
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Once the squad back home Shirazu locked himself in his room out of sheer frustration and embarrassment from his supposed failure. Leaving him be Reina went up to her room and grabbed a few toiletries before heading into the bathroom and taking a warm bath.
She stripped of her day clothes and stepped into the warm water, her mind running wild until she sat down letting the warm water relax her badly and mind. Slipping further and further into the tub she let herself get consumed by the water, numbing her senses letting the wave of calmness take over.
She recalled a memory. They were in the comfort of their own home, she was on her bed reading while her sister was by the windowsill painting her nails. She'd gotten to a chapter that described a new setting she was totally unfamiliar with.
The sandy, sunny beach. Where there was an infinite amount of sand and water—inches, feet, kilometers deep. Waves that crashed up against the rocks that bordered the shore line. The feeling of cold salt water splashing against their warm skin.
"Rize, what's a beach?"
"A beach? Well they're usually considered a tropical place, but not always. They're apparently great vacation trips for when you want to take a break from everything."
"How come we've never been to the beach?"
"That, silly girl, is because there's no big bodies of water here in the city. We need to be by the coast in order to be by the beach."
"I wanna go to the beach!"
"Do you know how to swim?"
"Of course! Why wouldn't I? Kichimura taught me how to-"
A knock at the door brought her back to reality. She pushed herself up and out of the water, hands wiping the water out of her face before responding.
"Yeah?"
"I need to ask you something."
"I'll be out in a minute—hold on."
She pulled the drain plug and stepped out of the tub onto the floor. Droplets of water soaking the dry floor. She wrung her hair and wrapped it up in a towel. She grabbed her other towel and began drying herself as quickly as she could. Deciding she was dry enough she put her underwear on and messily put her outerwear on.
Leaving the bathroom a mess she opened the door, her face being met with a poker face.
"What is it?"
"I need you to sign this." He handed the sheet of papear over.
Reading it over it stated the following, surgical consent form... frame procedure... healthy... next step.
"If I don't sign this, what'll happen?"
...
"And what did Sasaki say?"
"He'll give it some thought."
"Let's go to my room. We can discuss this more privately in there." She grabbed him by the shoulders and turned him around whilst guiding him to her room. Opening the door she pushed him inside and closed it behind her.
"Okay first thing first, why do you want to get it done?"
"I-"
"And be honest with me, I don't want a bullshit answer."
"As I was saying, I feel like I'm handling my kagune better than before and my rising RC levels have stabilized. Taking the next step in the experiment would be best for me."
"No. That's the answer you should give me, I want your personal belief. I know there's a stronger feeling that's making you feel strongly about the surgery."
...
Sighing she pinched her nose bridge knowing it would get her nowhere with him. Knowing Kuki Urie, there would be no coaxing his actual feelings out. He was a smart boy, knew exactly what his peers and everyone else wanted to hear. But when it came to Reina there was no use trying to suck up to her.
"Look, I know we're not as close as I am to the other members. But you keep pushing yourself away from emoting how you truly feel in the moment, and it's not just that. Remember how you asked for the reimbursement, and how you kept handing us receipts?"
He blinked.
"You never communicated with us. Had you told us your idea, your plan, anything at all! You wouldn't have put anyone in danger. You're holding yourself back and you don't even know it because that's been your whole li-"
"Don't act like you know me-"
"But I do know you. See how you're acting defensive? You know exactly what I'm talking about, Kuki Urie."
"Shut your mouth."
"You know, I wish you would just speak your mind no matter what. I can tell that you're hurti-"
"Will you sign the form? Or not?" He cut her off before she could say anything else.
"No." She crossed her arms, her voice dripping of disapproval.
He walked out of the room and slammed the door.
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"Please take a look at the files in your hands... it's a copy of a list discovered at The Nutcracker's residence.
"A list?"
"Yes. It's a grocery list. It suggests there's a connection between the Nutcracker and the madames."
"So the Nut also kidnaps people, maybe she's collecting things for the auction."
"An auction..?" Mutsuki asked after hearing the word during the case.
"It's a bidding event that the madames hold—similarly to ghoul restaurants. They bid off the victims they kidnapped," Reina explained simply, "or in other words human trafficking."
"The ghoul known as the Big Madame—the chairperson of the restaurant and the show—is notorious throughout the CCG. We've had numerous chances to eradicate her, but they all ended in failure."
"So she's a vicious ghoul..?"
"If the Nutcracker is working for the Madame this could be an important case."
"If needs be, we may work, with Countermeasure II..."
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Leaving the briefing was pretty eventful. With the newfound information of the case, everything had now changed. This was going to be the first case in a while where they would actively pursue a rate: ≥ A ghoul. It was like a scary thrill ride with how surreal the moment felt as it sank in.
The five of them walked out together and murmured a few words to each other about the case.
"Sounds likes it's bigger than I expected..."
"Yeah. A joint investigation with Countermeasure II rarely happens. Guess it's all up to the Nut... we need to be at our best." Haise stated, everyone else knowing that it was true. If they lacked competence in any way, shaper, or form they'd end up six feet under.
"Hey, Sassan, Nana."
Bothe mentors perked up at their names being called upon by the blonde boy beside them.
"Is Urie okay? Being sent to the hospital out of nowhere like that."
"Sorry, I don't know. I was just informed myself."
Reina sighed knowing exactly what happened. After the argument that ensued the night he presented her the consent form, she knew that he'd still get the surgery behind their backs. How he was able to go through with it? She didn't know, but she probably had a feeling he forged their signatures or something.
"I'm sure he'll be fine, Shirazu. Urie's a tough nut, he'll get through whatever's going on in his immune system." She reassured the boy, not letting anything slip.
"I don't know. I can't reach Dr. Shiba either."
"I hope it's nothing serious."
"They said he'll be back in a few days. It'll just be us then."
"We have a meeting tonight. Shirazu, there's someplace I have to go to after I lecture Saiko. Can I have the car keys?" Haise reached his arm out as the boy pulled the keys out without hesitation and passed them to the man.
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After Haise came back, he wasted no time to call everyone into the meeting room to announce their new plan. He sat everyone down and gave them the shorter version of what he was told,
"The Nut is scoping out potential victims in clubs and other places in the 13th ward. The list includes some unusual criteria for victims. Ocular prosthesis... vocalist, and some general ones like specific height and weight."
He stood up, " guys. We're going to become women."
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wc: 2.8k previous chapter  masterlist next chapter
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a/n: this’ll be the last chapter for the month, and I’ll be taking a break due to personal reasons. I’ll continue writing whilst I’m on hiatus, so it’ll be easier to post once I’m done and so I’m ahead of my schedule. I’ll be back by May! So I’ll see you guys then!
ps. I wasn’t going to post today at all, but I felt like I was depriving everyone and myself of giving y’all the next chapter, so here you are
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huenjin · 3 years
Text
the study of relationships.
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summary — college team's volleyball captain and your roommate-cum-best friend, hwang hyunjin argues with you over guys being better than girls in relationships to help you out of one. or in which hyunjin is in love with you for years now and he finally decides that maybe he doesn't want that best friend tag anymore.
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pairing — hwang hyunjin x reader, ft. minho
genre — fluff, angst | volleyball!au, f2l!au, roommates!au
rating — nc-17
word count — 15k words
note — kinda excited to post this very long plotted fic on here because first long fic for skz !!! this fic is brought to you by hq, hyunjin's long blond hair and b me mv that we never got. please please do send me constructive criticism so that i can improve on my writing for this community. happy reading!
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"Whoa, whoa, whoa."
Your best friend, Hwang Hyunjin yells at the top of his voice, pitch lower in precision as you open the door and slam it shut forcefully, the sound loud enough to bounce to him clearly. Your feet storm hard against the wooden flooring of your apartment, sound bouncing off from that again and Hyunjin pauses his video game to look at you.
It's a familiar sight. Hyunjin sighs.
"Hey," he tries catching your attention but he fails. You storm into your room, hair flailing behind you in your anger, eyes blurry with the angst you feel that wraps slowly around your heart. You walk into the room and slam the door shut, so loud that a chip of wood breaks from the top of the door and falls down.
"Jesus Christ! Y/N—" Hyunjin yells to no one in particular. However, he drops his controller to the side of the couch and jumps to his feet only after pausing his game. He takes big strides to your room and in high contrast to his rash movements, his knocking on your door is very gentle.
"Can I come in?" He asks, scratching the door absentmindedly. He presses his ear and head against the door to hear a response but all he hears are your soft cries and it makes him sad.
"Y/N—"
"Go away, Hyunjin!"
"Y/N, let me in," he stresses, his leg kicking the air slightly, dangling before that. "I—"
"You're going to make fun of me."
"Will not." Hyunjin knows where this stems from and he won't deny. However, at this minute, he just wants to be there for you. Teasing could wait for an hour or so after you've calmed down. "So please?"
You hum and Hyunjin waits for a sign of protest. When he hears none, he takes it as an approval to open the door and the sight before him hurts him ever so slightly.
You are wrapped in a cocoon of your white blanket and your head is buried in the sheets outside, not ready to look up at your best friend. He frowns as he walks towards you, letting himself to sit by your side. He stretches his arm out and stops when you declare,
"I'm a world class dumpee."
"You are," he shrugs, voice tainted with a slight tease and you look up at him, glaring with your red, puffy eyes. You try shoving him but the cocoon you are wrapped in slightly falls forward too in impact. Hyunjin laughs and stretches both his arms forward to prevent you from falling forwards.
You pout, mumbling with a voice that is strained and is your proof of the urge to cry, "You promised you wouldn't."
"I'm your best friend," he shrugs and pushes your body wrapped in the thick blankets backwards, your head hitting against the pillow. A soft whine leaves your lips, followed by an oomph. "You knew I was going to tease you at the very first opportunity."
And then Hyunjin pounces on you, tickling your sides over the covers and your tickle sensitive being rushes in sensation as you laugh your heart out, chest heavy and mind focussing only on your best friend that you forget about the boy who broke up with you an hour back.
"Stop," you laugh. "Hyunjin," you whine. "Stop, you idiot," you laugh again. "I'm going to kill you—"
Hyunjin's laughter fills the air along with yours. In your perspective through your watery eyes, you see a boy with no worries and all smiles and you want to be like that. You desperately want to be like that. You push your wrapped body upwards to shove Hyunjin to the side and it works. He laughs, slowly receding with yours and he lets out a loud relieved sigh as he looks at your face with less creases and tears that now fall due to laughter.
"Hey," Hyunjin says and you turn your head to face him. His face is rigid, the childish gleam that he had just a while back long gone.
"Yeah?"
He sits up, running a hand through his hair and folding his arms soon after. "The guy was a jerk," he tells, helping you up. His hand finds the end of the blanket and unwraps it slowly from your being. "He was a mighty jerk, okay?"
"He is your teammate, Lee Minho," you stare, dead into his eyes and he shrugs.
"I know," he sighs before shrugging, giving you a nonchalant look. "What was it this time? Let me guess, he broke up with you for no reason again."
You hit the blankets that cover your thigh hard and send imaginary daggers in Hyunjin's way, "Yeah! I just don't understand why he'd break up with me."
"Uh, possibly because—"
"Is it because I'm on like close friend terms with everyone in the college volleyball team? I mean, Lee Minho always said dating—"
"Dating you would be hard, Y/N," Hyunjin continues, mocking your ex-boyfriend's voice. "You hang out with so many guys and all your best friends are dudes that it makes me jealous," Hyunjin pauses, placing his hands flat on the bed from behind as he leans back. "Ah, Lee Minho, that bastard. He always did say that to you."
You look down, fidgeting with your fingers and you roar out in anger. Hyunjin looks at you amused until you say, "Why can't guys be more like girls?"
"Excuse me?"
Hyunjin's eyebrow is raised and he laughs mockingly. He lifts his arms from behind, stretches his back before sitting up straight. He kicks his legs and raises it upwards to sit cross legged, looking straight at you and laughs again. "You are totally kidding me, right?"
"No, I'm not, Hyunjin," your eyebrows furrow. "The reason behind most, if not all, break-ups is the guy."
Hyunjin agrees with you deep down. Okay, maybe not completely but at least a ninety percent and that's a good one. However, he knows how competitive you are and if there's something that can get your head out of this post break up blues, it's this.
A competition. And so just to entice you a little, he sneers, "If anything, girls should be more like guys."
"Bitch, no," you laugh, head falling back at the sheer stupidity that rolls out from your best friend's mouth. "Men are so conceited that they had to make a whole word for treating women equal."
"Not all men simp. Plus, it's an AAVE and that people should not use it. In my defense, I've treated you like a guy my whole life," he shrugs. Lies. Lies. Lies he spews out endlessly because at one point, without him even knowing, things did change and he's seen you as a woman; as a woman he now has feelings for.
Hyunjin, to prove his point, hits you on his back like you've seen him do with all his teammates and your torso bends forward from your hips on impact. "See!" He stretches his arms, tattoos on display in the loose half sleeved black top he wears and you wince, stretching your hand back to rub only for Hyunjin to stop laughing quickly and rub your back, mumbling, "Sorry."
"Hyunjin," you shrug, mumbling, trying to guide your best friend. "Don't ever use the not all men tag, please."
He slaps a hand over his mouth, realising his error, again apologising and you stretch your hand forward quickly to protest, "No, no," you tell, "You don't have to apologise. I just hope you know how it sounds."
"I do," he falls back, lying down against your mattress. "I do and I hate that I accidentally said it."
You follow suit, and fall on the bed, hair splaying around, some falling on Hyunjin's face. He groans, moving the hair away and whining, "It got into my mouth, ew." You laugh.
Hyunjin speaks out, staring at the ceiling, "Whose fault is it that a relationship goes astray?"
"Still going to say the men," you look at the same spot he stares at. "They're—"
"It's a war."
"See!" You exclaim. "This is the issue with men. They cut us off all the time."
Hyunjin laughs, hand stretching out to hold your wrist to soothe you down and mumbling another apology, he continues, "This is a battle, Y/N; a battle that's aged long and has never come to a conclusion. The battle—"
"Get to the point."
"Look who cut me off now."
"Touché."
"Anyhow," he continues. "The battle between men and women."
"You definitely sounded like a prepubescent boy there," you look at Hyunjin. His skin is so clear, you notice, making a mental note to steal his skin care products later. He turns a second later to face you and he nods, "Don't care. Definitely going to win this."
"You wish," you let out a condescending laugh. "I'm going to beat your ass, Hyunjin."
"Kinky," he smiles that stupid, toothy grin of his, "I likey."
"You gross pubescent boy," you shove at his arms only for him to quickly hold your hand, interlocking his fingers with yours in the midst of the squabble. You let him, still laughing lightly, lungs light and mind free from all the sad thoughts.
"I see that I've got an upgrade."
"You did."
You're about to thank Hyunjin for this small gesture that probably seems to be nothing when his phone rings from the other room. The scary unexpected track to Tokyo Ghoul's opening – Unravel – that you can't help but accept that you've grown to like, plays.
He lets go of your hand and jolts upwards, jumping off the bed. A small whine leaves your lips unexpectedly and Hyunjin smiles at that. He pulls up the blankets over your body that he shifted, mumbling, "You should sleep early. You had a tough day."
"No," you whine yet again, "Let's talk more—" His phone rings louder, the scream part of the ringtone jolting you up and your hand falls on your chest in shock. "Hate when your phone does."
"And yet you sing along to it," he sings, humming the tune.
"Pfft," you scoff, holding onto the blanket, scrunching it in your grip. "Go. It's probably about the practise match against Yonsei University."
He hums in agreement, folding the blanket again carefully, right below your neck, his cold hands brushing against your clavicle and the temperature difference runs a shiver down your spine.
Hyunjin switches off the light as he walks out, gently closing the door shut and you watch your best friend throwing a small smile at you before leaving. Did you really deserve all this care? Perhaps not.
Hyunjin, on the other hand, dashes out to get the phone before the caller cuts the call in frustration. He's definitely not spending the money to call back whoever it is. That shit is expensive. He jumps a couple of steps and grabs his phone, accepting the call before looking at the name of the caller.
"Hyunjin…" It's Lee Minho. "Can you come over?"
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"I really want to throw a punch at you, you bastard."
And Hyunjin does. Virtually, of course. Over the game they are playing. He couldn't afford to injure a fellow teammate when the preliminaries are right around the corner.
"Bro," Minho sighs. "Can you go easy on me?"
His game character hits Minho's again, the energy bar of the other drastically going down on the screen. Hyunjin can't stop. The frustration that he has pent up over the last hour after seeing you cry and crumble over being dumped by his other friend drives him to the edge and he delivers another punch. Minho's character dramatically collapses as soon as the energy bar is empty and he drops the console by his side, pressing his back against the sofa, arms wrapped against his chest, pouting.
"I—"
"Go on," Hyunjin glares at him. "You better have a good explanation."
Minho runs a hand through his hair and sitting up straight, turning his torso to face Hyunjin, he tells, "I don't."
"You're lucky that we have a match soon, else you'd be six feet underground," Hyunjin sighs, throwing his hands over his head and folding it behind. "I can't believe you did that to Y/N."
"I fell out of love with her," Minho says. He doesn't dare to look at Hyunjin because he fears if the glares would actually result in him six feet underground. "Can't that be the only reason?"
Hyunjin chuckles, moreso at himself than at his friend, mumbling under his breath so low that Minho thinks it's just him humming, "Is it possible to fall out of love with her?"
He wishes Lee Minho could tell him how.
Hyunjin stands up, patting his denim jeans and looking at Minho, he warns, eyebrows furrowing, "I'll help her out with this. Just don't be a jerk and start dating in like two days."
"I—" Hyunjin glares at him. "Fine."
"Practice at seven," he adds and grabs the key of his motorcycle from the table before him. "Don't be late and act normal around Y/N."
"Fine, sir," Minho rolls his eyes. He won't admit it ever but the man warning him could be the reason for his breakup. That and his insecurity and fear of you cheating on him. But it's mostly Hwang Hyunjin. He knows how he feels even if you didn't.
Hyunjin walks out of Minho's house, closing the door on his way out and getting on his motorcycle, he rides back home to you. Just as he had promised you.
He opens the door to your room as soon as he enters his house, removing his shoes and placing it to the side, only to find his ears listening to the soft snores that let free from your lips. Carefully he walks towards you, his thumb and forefinger holding your chin lightly and tilting your head upwards to help you breathe properly.
He pauses for a minute just to watch you. Your eyebrows that you dislike so much just because according to you, it's not thick enough. He loves it however, even though you would never listen to him. Your eyelashes cast a gentle shadow on your high cheekbones and he gasps because you're so beautiful. You're so near to him and yet so far.
He bends forward, pushes your fringes to the side and places a soft kiss against your forehead, mumbling the words he wishes he could tell you straight up. Even if he did, you'd probably laugh and scoff at him.
"Beautiful girl," his lips graze the skin by your forehead, "You are a fighter. You have always been a fighter. You are stronger than you think. You are braver than you believe. Every challenge that life has thrown at you, you've conquered every obstacle that has been placed in front of you. You've overcome every single one of them. You are unstoppable and unbreakable and right now, you are filled with more faith than you have ever been."
Hyunjin pulls away, softly caressing the hair by the side of your face, "So please believe in yourself. You're worth so much love. So much of it, Y/N."
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"The jerseys came!"
Bang Chan screams, a huge grin on his face as he opens the door for you. He runs to Felix and holds onto his shoulders before jumping up and down in joy. He is so delighted. "It looks so good, dude."
Hyunjin smiles, running towards you and helping you with the cardboard box. "It's alright," you mumble. "I'm the manager. It's my job."
"Pfft," he scoffs. "And I'm your best friend. It's my job." He picks the huge box that covers your entire upper half, easily and places it down before the coach and the team.
Jisung rushes to your side, nudging you with his elbow, "We've got a pretty good manager." He bends down and rips open the box, taking his jersey in his hand, "Number 13, bitches. Nothing shows what an amazing libero I am like the number most feared." You laugh.
"Number 10 isn't that bad, I guess." You hear Minho's voice break through the cluster of voices and your movements still. You turn your head to look at the brown haired boy who towers over you, wearing a smile so pretty that your heart still skips a beat.
"Hey, Y/N," he smiles. "Thanks for bringing this over."
"Uh," you fidget with your fingers, averting your gaze everywhere else besides at Minho. "I guess. It's my job, yeah."
Hyunjin notices. He always does. The boy runs towards you with his jersey. Number 1 printed in big behind. The setter brings the jersey so close to your face that it's buried in the fresh opened shirt. "Number 1, of course," he laughs, scrunching the shirt in his hand as he raises both his arms above.
"Oh, shut up, Jinnie," you laugh.
"Yeah, shut up, Jinnie," Jisung echoes. The middle blocker, though not the tallest in stature, is excellent at his position and has the biggest love-hate relationship with your best friend. He folds his arms and mocks Hyunjin.
Hyunjin places his right hand down on Jisung's head, ruffling his hair after pressing down on it. He scolds the older boy, "Don't call me Jinnie. Y/N's the only one who gets to call me that."
"Stop gathering around people," The captain claps his hands together to gather all of your attention. You quickly rush to his side and he smiles at you warmly, before looking at his team and glaring at each of them as they gather around him. "Yonsei University was kind enough to arrange a practice match with us thanks to—"
"Y/N," Jisung shouts, pivoting his arms by their sockets before lifting them both high above his head, cheering for you.
"Don't cut me off, Han," the coach shoots daggers at him, frowning visibly at the disobedience. "One more time and you're running around the gymnasium twenty times."
Jisung groans, only after winking at you. You chuckle under your breath, covering your face with the notepad in your hand. Hyunjin rolls his eyes, nudging Jisung to 'keep it in his pants' in the scariest voice ever. You could feel the dark clouds around Hyunjin, the aura darkening for a split minute before he breaks out into a huge smile as he looks at you.
The coach instructs out commands; strategies to help the team win against Yonsei. Moves that he's studied after watching their matches. You know this because you watched Hyunjin do the same at home. He does it at odd timings though.
You would wake up at three in the morning to grab a glass of water and you'd find your best friend squatting in front of the television as he watches every single one of Yonsei's matches. He wouldn't listen to you telling him to go to sleep because, "Being the captain is hard, Y/N. The whole team's banking on me to set the ball perfectly at the right time. I can't..."
And you understand. You understand the worries that go around in his head, the anxiety of being the best because he's no genius. He got to the top, made a name for him all thanks to his hard work and if he needs to keep it — he won't have it any other way — he swears to god that he would practise and study till he drops dead. Hwang Hyunjin loves volleyball that much.
So, you do what any friend would do.
You would make two cups of coffee, one for him and one for yourself. You sit next to him and watch the match with him. Your head lays back against the soft material of the sofa, just watching Hyunjin's eyes fixed on the screen, studying each movement of every player, gasping occasionally at how the setter of Yonsei's team leans his head back to decoy the opposite team only to dump the ball.
You don't remember much from that night because you fall asleep way too quick in the silence and in the presence of a focussed Hyunjin, your cup of coffee half empty. You don't remember anything from that night besides the fact that you woke up in your bed the next morning, or more like, Hyunjin waking you up the next morning because you overslept. Either ways, you were back in your bed and for that, you were grateful.
And as soon as the coach is done with the instructions, the team members scramble before splitting themselves into two groups, first to do serves and then perfect shots and finally, have a practice match.
You sit next to the coach, watching each and every member. That's what the previous manager told you to do. To observe. That's what the manager must do. To observe so well that you know each member well enough to know how their mind works, how their personalities are and who they truly want to be.
This is exactly why you can't seem to ever hate Lee Minho. Because you've seen him on the court, at his very best.
He's the best darn middle blocker you've ever seen. He doesn't tower that much over people with his height but when he jumps, lifting off his feet, he is as good as a wall cemented and strong before the opponent. He has only got better with every practice match and you realise that he wants to be better. And that's how he truly is. The constant urge to do better than the person he was before and perhaps, to Minho, you are someone he wants to leave behind in the past.
There's no one to blame here and you realise that it's a lot better if you accept the truth before it hurts you more than it should.
But then, in a second, Hyunjin takes your attention away whole heartedly. The boy arches his body so beautifully as he sets the ball for Jisung who slams the ball over the net with such force that leaves you gaping, notebook slamming your thigh. The coach stands up, his heels slamming the ground first before his toes do and he is as stunned as you are, eyes wide.
Funnily, Jisung's surprised too.
"We did it!" He says slowly, his words gradually making sense to him and when it does, he rushes to him, holding his shoulders and jumping ecstatically, "Hwang Hyunjin, we fucking did it!"
"When did you guys practice that?" The coach cuts the commotion short with his question. Hyunjin turns to face him along with Jisung, scratching the back of his head. Jisung is so overjoyed that he rushes to the coach, "Today morning! It sounded delusional but we pulled it off, coach."
You look at Hyunjin, who turns his attention back to you as soon as the coach is scrambling off to tell more instructions to Jisung on how he should time it a little bit earlier to hit it with even more impact. You smile, giving him a thumbs up and Hyunjin laughs, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Are you guys finally dating now that Minho's out of the picture?" Chan nudges Hyunjin. The man stumbles a step forward on impact only to quickly look at the older with eyes so wide that he wonders if it were possible.
"What?" He splutters the words out, voice haphazard after the cough.
"Everyone in the team thinks you guys should," Chan shrugs and Hyunjin's face morphs into that of seriousness almost instantly and shoots the other male with, "Did Minho hear of this?"
"Perhaps," Chan catches the ball Felix throws at him. The coach claps his hands to bring the attention back to him, barking out orders to resume the game. Chan pats Hyunjin's shoulders, "You know what we always tell, Hyunjin, in this sport—"
"Take the shot when you see the opportunity."
"Exactly."
"Or someone's going to block again," Chan sniggers and looks at Minho, who was trying his very best to avoid your gaze, "This time round, it could be someone better than our middle blocker."
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You're picking up the volleyballs lying around when the guys go to shower and change, dribbling them slightly and smiling to yourself. A figure towers over you as they drop a ball into the huge bucket. You turn around to look up at Minho.
"Can we speak?"
"Do we have more to say?"
"I guess," he shrugs.
"We can still be friends, Minho," you sigh, eyes closed. "I also won't be those annoying types to tell Hyunjin to stay away from you because you broke up with me. You should know better."
"I didn't mean that," Minho looks offended. "I wanted to apologise. I should have tried harder perhaps."
"You should have."
"I know," Minho sucks in his lower lip. "I really should have but you know—"
"Lee Minho," your voice is firm. "I've told you a gazillion times that Hyunjin and I are just friends, Minho. Somehow you made up this sort of weird thing in your head so don't drag me into this mess. This is yours."
Minho scoffs, "You're going to eat your words soon," and picks up another ball. You remember the task you had forgotten in the heat of the moment, rushing to pick up a ball to put it back. The rest of the team is slowly making their way outside.
"I doubt," you sigh, throwing the last ball into the bucket and dusting your hands together. Jisung's darting towards you, hands in the air. Minho moves to the side, gliding against the floor, making way for the shorter man to reach you, bubbling with such enthusiasm you wonder what the cause of it is.
"Felix is treating us!"
Ah, so that's the reason. You smile at Jisung, nodding your approval. You push the bucket to the side of the gymnasium with Minho's help and switch the lights off as the team exits the gymnasium.
"Lee Minho!" You hear a feminine voice through the air, your eyebrows quirking upwards automatically. Hyunjin walks to your side, sighing as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his sports jacket, mumbling so softly that you barely catch it, "I warned that asshole, God damn him."
Minho's face lights up in a way you haven't seen in a while and your heart is heavy. The woman, Irene — you hear Chan shout her name and wave at her — locks her arm with Minho's and walks with him, the man doing nothing to push her away. It shouldn't affect you. Not anymore now that the two of you have broken up and yet it hurts.
Hyunjin quickly pulls you away, preventing your eyes from lingering further even a minute more. His hand holds yours and he drags you to his motorcycle. You look down, biting the insides of your cheeks, alternating between the right and left every time you taste the copper of the blood.
"Your hand is so small," Hyunjin says. "Like look at how it fits into mine," he laughs, lifting your hand upwards as he clasps it tightly. He mumbles, "So small."
You break into a smile, watching Hyunjin tease you, momentarily drifting from the thought that upsets you and it leaves you wondering how Hyunjin does it all the time. He lets go of your hand, ruffling your hair as he bends lightly, "You've got this."
He quickly turns on the heels of his feet, pulling out the keys to his bike and igniting it. You hear Jisung scream from behind, "I thought you were taking me with you!"
Hyunjin screams back, "Carpool with the rest. I'm taking Y/N."
He lifts his leg, straddling the bike as he holds onto the handles, kicking the support free. He turns towards you and tells you to hop on and you do as he says. Your fingers hold his jacket, making sure you're not hugging him from behind. Minho's words run in your head and Hyunjin notices this small gesture of yours but he pays no heed. After all, it's been a while since he realised that what he has with you is better when it's platonic. He is too afraid to lose you.
"Jinnie," you tell him as he starts the motorbike, accelerating behind Jin who leads the way. You hear your best friend scream, "Yeah," through the loud winds that hit you.
You lean forward and speak closer into his ears, your jaw hitting his helmet, "Remember how I said the guys are to be blamed in a relationship."
"Yeah," he hints at you to proceed.
"Here's my first point. Minho back there," you point out. "It was that easy for a guy to move on. That easy," you stress your word. "While I'm here repenting if there was any way to get things back to where it was. However, there's no use in me trying because there's Minho with Irene like our relationship was a thing in the past."
"That doesn't mean he didn't care about you during the relationship. That's how guys are. They give it their everything when they're in the relationship," Hyunjin reasons and you laugh sardonically.
"You're kidding me, right? The girl definitely cares more. It almost seems so easy for the guys to break up and move on. Remember the time when you broke up with Lisa," you speak, raising your tone a little more so that Hyunjin can hear you. The motorcycle moving against the wind causes your hair to touch your mouth and you're spitting hair out facing the side. Hyunjin laughs, his grip on the accelerator tightening as he speeds up just a little bit, causing you to hold onto his jacket pockets a little tighter.
"Bro," Hyunjin mutters when you bring up Lisa. "I cried enough when she broke up with me, okay?"
"You did, for a day or two," you state. "The girl cried her heart out for a whole week. You went partying that Friday with Jisung!"
"Are we now using quantitative measurements to determine how deep our care and love is?" Hyunjin gasps, sounding very offended. "This reminds me why most relationships don't work. Because girls are shallow as fuck."
Hyunjin accelerates, missing sight of the speed breaker in front of him. It hurls you onto his chest, your arms wrapping around his waist to keep you safe. A soft scream leaves your lips as the side of your face buries into his broad back.
"Sorry," Hyunjin apologises quickly. "Didn't see that!" Hyunjin prays that you don't move your arms away but you do and he sighs, face falling. He is glad that you can't see him. Your hand is back to gripping his jacket and head back in this battle of words you're currently having with your best friend.
"It's okay," you tell him. "What's not okay is how you think women are shallow."
"They are!" He takes a turn to the left. Your thigh muscles tighten as it straddles the seat, fingers digging into his side for support. "I mean, let's be real, sweetheart. You take an hour or more to get ready for college."
"Because I want to look presentable!" You hit his broad back and he chuckles.
"Lies! You're shallow!"
"Says the person who walks around shirtless at home and stares at the mirror, lightly touching your abs and saying perfect," you tease and Hyunjin turns to look at you for a minute with his eyes wide before he turns his attention back on the road.
"You saw that?"
"Of course. I see that every day."
"But you're watching the television, how?"
"Reflections," you state.
He's gasping. The motorcycle slows down as it reaches Pizza Alvolo. The pizzeria is adjacent to a pretty park and you can hear the birds chirp lowly right before the sun is ready to set. You jump off the motorcycle, dusting the denims covering your thighs and Hyunjin removes his helmet, hooking it to the handle securely.
The rest of the team are seated in the pizzeria already waiting for the two of you, waving at you as soon as you enter the place. You rush and sit next to Jisung who has been aggravatingly patting the seat next to him. Hyunjin sits opposite to you, next to Chan. He snatches the menu from him and the elder male whines at the behaviour.
You look around and notice that Minho hasn't reached the place yet. Not that it mattered to you. You will slowly learn to stop caring so much for a man and you will soon be able to look at him and think of only the fond memories and nothing more.
Or so you thought.
The minute you see Minho walk into the pizzeria, although not with Irene, you feel the ground slip underneath you. Jisung is nice enough — albeit not knowing of the whole pickle you are in — to hold your wrist and turn your attention towards the stack of pizza boxes that come your way as he gleams, "Pizza! Pizza! Pizza!"
You look away from Minho and toward the direction Jisung points before turning to look at Hyunjin who lets out a loud sigh. You know that he's clutching at his thick thighs, nails digging into it at the sight of your uncomfortability. Hyunjin knows it will take you days to get over this break up, maybe weeks and that as a good best friend, he should wait. He should understand.
But it frustrates him so much. The sight of you being in pain, in hurt because of another man — his other best friend at that — pisses him off way more than he thought it should at first.
Hyunjin quickly takes his phone out and you narrow your eyes at him, mouthing, "Rude. Put it back into your pocket." In a second, your phone dings and you take yours out. Minho sits by Jisung's side in that second, a seat away from you and your heartbeat accelerates. You unlock your phone to see a message from Hyunjin and you lift up your head, raising an eyebrow at him and he eyes at you to open the message.
Jinnie: do you want to leave?
Your eyes widen and your lips part slightly. You don't respond immediately, locking the phone and shoving it back into your pocket. You smile at Hyunjin, trying to signal that you were alright so far. Jisung opens the cardboard boxes of the pizza and squeals. Chan looks at the situation, analysing if it'd be bad for the team on a bigger approach. Hyunjin might be the captain but had it not been for Chan's guidance, the volleyball team would not have lasted a day more with the differences.
Felix announces, "Eat to your heart's merry! I might never treat again." He takes the first bite for courtesy's sake before telling everyone to join in.
The team laughs and Minho smiles, the skin by his eyes wrinkling and your heart stops to remember all the reasons you were so madly in love with this man. It is at this minute you realise it'll take you maybe a little longer than you thought, a little longer than a casual fling and a little lesser than a long term relationship. You should have known this is bound to happen the minute you allowed yourself to let your petty emotions take over.
And maybe, just maybe, it is the fact that you have to pretend to be alright with having Minho around you that makes this heartbreak pain ten times worse.
Surprisingly, Hyunjin already seems to know because he doesn't stop glancing at you after every bite of the slice he has in his hand.
You stretch your arm out to take a slice of the pepperoni pizza on the table at the same time Minho stretches his arms out to take one. Your fingers brush against his and you jolt your hand backwards, mumbling, "Sorry."
Jisung laughs without knowing and teases, "Why would you apologise for brushing your boyfriend's hand?" He takes a bite of his pizza and as soon as he finishes chewing, he continues, "I mean, you guys do nastier stuff and suddenly, you all are prim and proper, Y/N. Love the contrast you exhibit. It's beautiful. You guys could be at it every time I catch you in the gymnasium alone. Also, you're his longest relationship. You should pride yourself—"
Jisung is speaking and you won't look up. Hyunjin has dropped the knife slightly just to try and get him to stop, though in vain and Minho's looking at you. His eyes won't leave your frame and you just want to leave. It is too early for you to be alright with this. Way too early.
"Stop, Jisung," Chan tells him, reading the situation in the room.
"Why?" Jisung's laughing. Felix understands by now, seeing your face hung down and so does the rest of the team besides the man himself. You can't even come to be angry at Jisung because he seems so innocent, unaware of it all.
You spill the beans for your own heart's safety, "Minho broke up with me."
Minho doesn't shift his eyes at anyone else and Hyunjin holds the knife again, a little too tight this time. Jisung's smile turns instantly into a frown and he turns his head to glare at your now ex-boyfriend.
He doesn't bother to filter his words. "Why the fuck did you do that, you arsehole?" Minho turns to look at Jisung for a split second before his eyes are back at yours. You lift your head to lock gaze with him and you feel your chest tighten, eyes water and it hurts.
Everything seems so much more painful.
Chan says once again, his voice firm, ready to not listen to one more word of the conversation, "Stop it, Jisung. Read the room."
You stretch your arm out to have another bite of the pizza and everyone eats in silence. The room is pregnant with the most awkward silence you had been in your whole life. You take your phone out, unlocking it and finally replying to the message.
Jisung puts another slice of pizza onto your plate and you smile at him. Felix tries breaking the uneasy tension by talking about this dude he met in his neighborhood that was kind of cute. After sitting for another two minutes, you push your chair back to Jisung's surprise and stand up. Hyunjin stands up instinctively, his calves pushing his chair back and everyone at the table looks at the two of you.
Jinnie: do you want to leave?
"I just realised I have to do some grocery shopping," you laugh nervously. "There's absolutely nothing back at home. Not that Hyunjin would buy anything and keep, right?"
Hyunjin chuckles and everyone in the room knows quite obviously that you are trying to escape the scene. They are kind enough to let you. Felix asks, spilling the oregano seasonings on top of his pizza slice, "Is Hyunjin going with you?"
"Ye—"
"No," you cut your best friend before he can give his approval. "I'll go alone." You stretch your arm out, palm facing upwards, "Keys, please?"
"Don't hurt my baby," Hyunjin's sincerity is voiced and you laugh genuinely. Little did you know he meant both you and his motorbike. He drops the key to his motorbike onto your hand and you do a little cheer. Jisung mumbles, "Cute," before stuffing his face with pizzas.
"Have a good time, guys," you wish them and grab your bag, hanging on the chair. Jisung waves enthusiastically. Felix, Chan and the rest of the team waves too. You smile fondly at your team and walk towards the door only to find Hyunjin following you.
"What do you think you are doing right now, mister?"
"Can't I walk you out at the very least, woman?" Hyunjin gapes in dismay. He pulls open the glass door and you laugh.
"Sure thing," you say and walk towards his motorbike. Hyunjin leaves the door after stepping out, the glass door swinging back to shut itself. You swing your legs over his bike, straddling the automobile and dropping your chest slightly to balance the heavy vehicle.
"You sure you'll be alright?"
"Don't you trust your teaching? You taught me how to ride this thing. Don't worry."
You look over Hyunjin's shoulder to see Minho still looking at you, worry smeared all over his face and you feel your throat constricting again as you do your best to tear your eyes away from him.
Hyunjin takes a step closer, making sure everything's alright with the vehicle so that it doesn't endanger you. He places his hand over your wrist and you look at him in confusion, "Promise me you'll take care of yourself."
"I will," you laugh. "What are you? My daddy?"
Hyunjin stiffens for a minute before he lets go of all the inappropriate thoughts that fill him for a minute there before teasing you, "Do you want me to be your daddy?"
"Nah," you throw your head back. "You aren't that rich enough." You place the helmet over your head and look at him. Hyunjin taps your helmet and hugs you slightly.
"I'll see you at home."
You start the bike on ignition and look over Hyunjin's shoulder one last time to look at Minho, locking gazes with him before you pull yours away from him towards Hyunjin.
You look ahead, the clear road in front of you and turn the accelerator only after telling Hyunjin, giggling slightly,
"Sure thing, Daddy."
Hyunjin, on the other hand, is too caught up in his worry, eyes lingering behind the trailing presence of yours that finally disappears from his sight into a speck that fades away. In any other circumstances, he would have found your petite figure driving the huge motorcycle and you even calling him daddy, although in a teasing tone, insanely hot.
Right now, however, he just hopes you are safe. He wishes he could be by your side at every second.
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Gaho's Stay Here blasts on the bluetooth speaker. Hyunjin pulls open the door only to find you lying on the couch, staring at the ceiling with the most emotionless face he has ever seen you with. His eyes dart towards the empty bottles of soju on the small table in the hall.
"Y/N?"
You sit up, looking at your best friend and your lip pucker out quickly pouting at the sight of him and you stretch your arms out wide, squealing, "Hyunjinnie. You are home."
Hyunjin walks towards you, plopping on the couch and sitting next to you. He quickly lifts his arm up, hand darting back and forth at the air to steer the smell away as he frowns at you, "You reek of liquor, dude."
You quickly hug him, wrapping your arms around his frame from the side and snuggling your face into his shoulder. Hyunjin stiffens under your grip and he looks down at your being with eyes closed and he realises that you might after all just be a small being in need of some loving. He wishes to be the person to do that. Hwang Hyunjin utterly and truly wants to be your person.
Hyunjin takes your phone to stop playing the music — Stay Here that's been currently playing on repeat for the twentieth time straight — and you whine against his skin, tickles running down Hyunjin's spine.
"Don't stop the music," you mumble and Hyunjin looks at you and your figure that hugs him securely, head snuggled by his neck, chin digging into the skin by his collarbone and all Hyunjin can focus on is his heart that is beating furiously against his chest.
"Y/N," Hyunjin's voice seems like an anchor to your woozy mind and you hug him tighter, gripping stronger on to his white shirt. You hum in response and Hyunjin continues, "Gaho's music doesn't seem very fitting for the minute."
You pull apart, your face morphing and changing into that of offense as you glare at him, mumbling, "Gaho is the only one that understands me." You play the music again, the bluetooth speakers blasting with the sad slow tune in the air and you feel the want to cry all over again.
You stretch your arm out to take a soju bottle from the table to down it all out when Hyunjin stretches out to stop you, his fingers wrapping around your wrists. He locks his eyes with yours and in the softest, most caring voice you've ever heard from him, he says, "Don't, Y/N. It hurts me too."
"Can I hold you?"
In a split moment, the room is filled with just the soft beats of Gaho's Start Over playing, your raspy breaths and Hyunjin's lost stare. His grip on your wrist tightens and your mind is far too intoxicated to think if this friendship could be ruined. Your heart is heavy, chest tight and you want someone to free you. Anyone. You are clawing at the imaginary wall all by yourself and anyone could be a help. Anyone that is not Lee Minho.
"Yes," and you fall on Hyunjin at the exact same moment he pulls your hand closer towards him. The timing seems to have lapsed on to each other. Your chest on Hyunjin's, eyes looking up at him as your arms snake slowly over his torso. You snuggle forward, rubbing against his body slightly and Hyunjin sighs.
To Hyunjin, the scene is a lot dramatic just because of the soft music playing and because you are drunk off your head according to him, barely able to make decisions. He just doesn't want to do anything that will make either of your friendships but right now, in this minute with you almost on top of him, locking your eyes in his, your arms around his torso, close enough to feel every part of your being, he wants to be drunk too.
Hyunjin wants to be drunk so that he can make a mistake. Hyunjin wants to be so drunk that he can't think just because he is a coward.
"Do you feel better?" He asks and you snuggle into his chest, burying your face into it as you hold him. Your lonely heart being comforted by just his presence and in the back of your drunk head, you know you feel a little bit more that causes your heart to flutter when Hyunjin cares.
You and Hyunjin are both cowards — two small people in this big world with big emotions unwilling to risk one status for another, over the fear of losing each other.
But Hyunjin wants to risk it tonight. After years of pining, he wants to risk this golden friendship he has shared with you for years now. You are the trigger, however. You lift your face away from his chest and crawl slightly towards him, pushing yourself against him. You look at him, lips pressed together and you stretch your right arm upwards to hold his face in your hand.
"Jinnie," your voice lets out his name in such an airy tone that it seems to disappear away even before it reaches his ear. His eyes are glassy and his heart is in his throat, eager in nothing but anticipation that is risen from all his hoping.
It happens as he has imagined. You lean forward so slowly that he pictures every second vividly and in an instant, your lips are on his. Hyunjin knows it should have felt wrong but God, save him — nothing felt more right than this.
You kiss him and his whole world falls away. It lingers, like a memory that stays behind. Your lips are slow and soft against him, comforting yourself and him in ways that words would never be. Hyunjin's hand slowly lifts up to rest below your ear, his thumb caressing your cheek as your breath mingles only for a split second — one filled with hesitance and uncertainty — before you pull away, looking at your best friend.
It is just a second of a kiss. Something so small and insignificant to seemingly anyone else yet it means the whole world to Hyunjin. It is the whole world to Hyunjin because this is all that is needed to let him astray, hinge released of the stupid restrictions he has made up in his head over you.
Your small kiss is all Hyunjin needs to hold on to because in the next minute, he is pulling you towards him, hands cupping your face tightly and angling it to kiss you, encasing your lower lips in his as he moves against your coral ones. You let out a small gasp and run your fingers down his spine, holding him as close as possible until there is no space left between the two of you and you can feel the beating of his heart against your chest. Loud, clear and unknown to you that it beats for you in this minute.
Hyunjin's lips are slammed against yours, nearly knocking all wind from your lungs and you don't know if it is your feelings or Hyunjin himself. He presses his tongue to the seam of your lips and, the minute you let him in, he delves inside your mouth. Hyunjin kisses you like he thinks it is the last time he will ever be able to have his lips against yours.
Your arms move up his back and tangle around his thick, strong neck. In an instant, you pull away and arch up into his broad chest, moaning in the contact of body heat against your own, before you draw back into his lips. Hyunjin can feel the burn of hard soju in his mouth, thanks to you, and it rolls off your tongue into his, seeping down  his throat and he can't hate it. There is a thrill in its own that Hyunjin knows stems from you.
If it was possible, Hyunjin would slow down time.
You pull back eventually only to hug him, humming against his neck, lips pressed against the soft expanse of his skin. Hyunjin's hand is pressed against your back as he pats you in a steady rhythm, instinctively humming to a tune that could calm you.
"Jinnie?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you," and he feels your weight fall on to his shoulder as you snuggle closer into his neck, your warm breath fanning against him, sending shivers down his spine. "For everything."
Hyunjin holds you for a while, silence and nothing but your breathing that is soft music to his ears, till he hears your soft snores buzzing against his eardrums and he knows you have fallen asleep in his arms, against his chest.
The next morning, you find yourself magically in your bed, comforter on top of you covering every inch of you, head aching thanks to your reckless drinking last night with no memory of whatsoever that happened. Lightheaded you should have known better.
Hyunjin chooses to be a coward, the morning after.
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The greens that cover the campus is the only other thing that keeps you sane in this university. The first being, the volleyball team. However, you don't know anymore if it is still, in the present.
You sit on the same bench before a beautiful fountain with a tiger head right in the centre, watching the vast basketball court. A place that holds way more memories to you now than it did a year before.
You shake your legs, feet pointing forward as you listen to music with about half an hour in your hand to waste before you head down towards the gymnasium to meet with the volleyball team. Besides few people that walk down towards their classes, the campus looks pretty stranded as you watch every single person stay happy in their sphere.
"Y/N," you hear your name being called out through yet another one of Gaho's songs and you lift your head up, to look at the person by your side, standing and providing you the shade they probably didn't intend to.
It's the man himself, the one who broke your heart for an explanation that made no sense to you. Lee Minho.
He stands tall, towering over you and your neck aches from looking up at him that you decide to stand up, removing the earbuds and placing it on the wooden bench, next to your phone.
"You're here." You gulp. "Aren't you supposed to be headed to the gym for practice?"
The fountain is everything you associate Minho with — moreover, it is perhaps the relationship with him that you associated the beautiful water fountain with. To see the very same man before you right now is needless to say surprising.
"I could ask you the same thing," Minho chuckles. He takes out a small cone of butterscotch ice cream and extends his arm, offering it to you. You smile softly, thanking him, sitting down back on the bench. "Can I sit here?" He asks and you nod, unwrapping the wrapping paper around the ice cream.
"Yeah," you tap on the seat by your side. You take a bite of your ice cream and Minho visibly flinches, mumbling, "Still the same."
"You broke up with me like two days back. What did you expect? A nirvana attained me?" You scoff. You take another bite of the ice cream, the sensitivity hitting your teeth and you hiss.
"Brutal," Minho chuckles darkly. You scoff, turning your head away and taking another bite of your ice cream. Minho opens his ice cream and you raise an eyebrow at him, mumbling, "You don't eat ice cream though."
"Thought you might want another one," he smiles and the thought of a second ice cream lights you up. "There you go smiling like a dork as always at the thought of it." Minho laughs and you bend forward to take it, your left arm stretching forward. Minho tugs it backwards and your body moves a little more to grab at it until it's too far for you, bringing you to your present position.
Your hand is on Minho's chest, his eyes locked in yours and you are surprised. This is not in your to do list and yet with Minho's grip on your wrist, you drop your ice cream as soon as he edges closer. His face is so close that you can see the perfect plump lips pout slightly, his face glistening in the bright sun and you gasp softly. It has been a while since he has been this close and he still makes your heart go livid within you, beating crazy.
He drops his ice cream in a second, his hands pressing forward to cup your face and pull you into him to kiss the living hell out of you. Your eyes widen, arms falling limp on either side as you stiffen.
"Can I try something?" He hesitates, iron grip on you.
"Try?" You look worried and the next minute, Minho is kissing you, his plump lips on yours for a while before he moves them against yours, taking hold of your lower lip.
It is an instinct. You choose to blame it rather on instincts. Your hand moves to grab the linen draping his arm as you hold it and kiss Minho back. It is as bitter as coffee thanks to all the memories that go along with it and yet — you find yourself drowning. You find yourself wanting more. You find yourself hoping if Minho could stay, if Minho could just pretend to love you, if not.
And it breaks your heart.
All over again.
A lone tear leaves your eyes and then another, till you are crying as you kiss him. A wet messy affair at its finest. Minho pulls back in surprise feeling the wetness against his skin. He cups your face and holds you, looking at you to check for damage — little does he know of the emotional one. Or maybe he does and he chooses to ignore. Typical Lee Minho.
"Did I hurt you?"
Your emotions take over, sanity pushed to the back. You are pulling yourself from Minho as he tries to hold you to calm you down. Your fist plummets down onto his hard chest once and then, for the second time till you are hitting him over and over again till you completely break down in front of him. Minho quickly pulls you into a hug, holding you close till you completely soak his white shirt with your tears.
"I hate you, I hate you, I hate you—" It's a repeated chant. Over and over again till you don't remember how many times you told Minho the same thing. Your mind goes insane with the overdrive of emotions. Did you like Minho still? You don't know. You don't know whether it's the familiarity of his hugs or his kisses or his whole presence that you crave or if it's his love.
"I'm sorry," he whispers and you accept because it's the first time an apology from Lee Minho sounded this sincere. "I'm sorry for breaking your heart." He snuggles into the crook of your neck, swallowed by guilt. Perhaps this is why one should never date their friends; because you lose something much greater.
"I hate you more now for kissing me here," you manage to say, throat rasp from the crying. "How could you stain this memory too? How dare you stain the memory of the location of our first kiss? It was supposed to be a bittersweet memory when I sit here and think." Minho is still hugging you.
"I'm sorry."
It is still bittersweet in a new way, you realise — the fact that Lee Minho kisses you for the last time, you swear to God, in the very same place he kissed you for the first time. The weather changed, the people around changed and the emotions changed. Even after all that, the fountain stays proud and mighty and bears witness to more new relationships and new heartbreaks. Nothing changes besides you. Nothing changes besides what we want.
You pull away from him. Sitting straight, facing the vast basketball court and the juniors playing the game, you make a decision, firm and determined. The soft pink petals fall down from the cherry blossom trees over the two of you and Minho looks at you, and then at the spilled ice cream. To see the boughs that were so bereft in the snow become so beautifully adorned should lift your spirits infinitely and it does slightly. Their scents diffuse in the warming breeze and you hold your head high to savour it.
"Let's stay away from each other for a while."
Minho's eyes shoot up, head lifting up to face you. He does not refute. After all, he knows he has to take a step behind after breaking your heart. What he does not understand is how the two of you could stay away from each other when your friend circles overlap to a large extent.
"How?" He finally asks. "How do I help you with that?"
"By doing just that. Give me space and time to get over you. I'll come back asking for your hand in friendship again," you smile. Your tear stained visage and the difficult smile you put forth is a funny combination but you manage to pull it off well, you'd say. "You don't have to take the first step this time. Let me do this on my own, Minho."
You stand up on your own, grabbing your earphones and your phone. Minho stands up, following suit and asks, "Are you leaving?"
"Yes," you turn only to look at him as you walk backwards. "And you have to head for practice. So get going. I won't have you mess up your performance by all means." You turn back and move ahead. From everything.
"You know I wouldn't," Minho screams back and the last syllable ends with a laugh. You lift your hand to wave and you leave, far, far away from him.
You now have an open wound to stitch back and you know you have to do it on your own.
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Hyunjin's phone rings right when he decides to serve the ball. He drops the ball in surprise, the sphere rolling all the way to where his phone is placed. Chan groans, stopping his pace at the sound of the phone ringing, and yells, "Yah! Hyunjin, how many times should I tell you to switch off your phone?"
Felix walks in exactly at that minute, laughing, "Anyone from outside would totally think Chan's the captain!"
Hyunjin runs to his phone, his blond hair strands falling forward, ponytail swinging left and right. Felix laughs at the sight, walking towards the ball and picking it up before throwing it at Chan who catches it swiftly. Hyunjin sees your name on the phone, eyes lighting up instantly and a smile prominent only for Chan to announce, "It's Y/N."
"Of course, it is," Felix scoffs. "Where's the rest of the guys? I thought you said we were to come early—" Felix pauses, eyes widening and gasping, "Hold up! Y/N is late. Whoa!"
"They are probably running towards the gym right now," Hyunjin says before picking up the call. He mouths to the rest, "It'll be short, I promise," and pouts. Chan sighs, only to smile and wave his hand at him to take the call.
"Y/N," Hyunjin cheers up instantly. "Where are—" He hears a choked sob from the other hand and Hyunjin stiffens, face losing the smiling in a second. "Are you alright?"
"I am," you strain it out. You barely manage through with the chokes and that pain that ripples through in waves but you eventually find the words to tell him, "I won't make it to practice today. Yeah?"
"Where are you?"
Hyunjin is angry and he doesn't even know who it is aimed at. He is just beyond mad at the fact that you are crying and someone made you cry. The thought of the skin by your eyes aching and eyes red and burning over anyone made him so angry that he could punch a wall through.
"I'm not telling you," he hears you say and he clenches his fist.
"Stop being a brat, Y/N," he stresses and Chan gestures at him, asking if there was something wrong. Hyunjin nods. "Where are you?"
"Leave me alone, Jinnie," you tell him through the phone, "Please,"  and his eyes widen before he calms himself down, realising that you are trying to cope all alone, a pathetic self-destructive quirk of yours that he had learned to live with after all these years. He gulps and realises you truly needed time alone and he hums in approval.
"Please reach out to me when you need me," he begs. "Please, Y/N."
Felix and Chan are staring at Hyunjin in worry when the door to the gymnasium opens and Jisung rushes into the room. He is panting and he looks around, searching for someone. Hyunjin turns away, his attention back on the call in his hands and he ends the call quickly, making a note in his mind to check up on you after practise. Not that you would let him miss practise. (Not that Hyunjin would do it to himself in the first place. He'd kill for volleyball.)
He walks towards the rest when Minho walks in, black duffel bag on his shoulder. Jisung is quick on his feet as he runs towards the other man, hands on his shoulders and he shakes the living hell out of him.
"He's gone crazy, dude," Felix mumbles and Chan laughs.
Hyunjin stays at a comfortable distance still, looking at his phone in worry every now and then. The man lifts his head and brings his attention back to the present only when he hears your name leave Jisung's mouth.
"Whoa, dude. You got back together with Y/N?"
"What?" Chan is the first to respond. "You did what?"
"I didn't get back together with her," Minho says, his voice is monotone and lacks anything more than nonchalance and it pisses the hell out of Hyunjin who has his fists still clenched tightly.
"I saw you kissing her but. . ." Jisung drops the bomb all at once in such a lost way that he doesn't realise the impact it was to have in this large gymnasium.
Hyunjin is charging forwards all at once, yelling, "You bastard," as he throws a punch at Minho. The blond dyed man is quick to put two and two together and realise that you are after all, crying because of the black haired man before him.
He pushes him back, Minho hitting the floor and Hyunjin's on top of him, punching him with his clenched fist, mind void and painted in hot red anger. Minho has his arms, blocking his punches and chooses to play on the defensive side.
In fear, we are all monsters. Hyunjin believes that he would be afraid of himself had he astral projected and looked at himself in this minute, all unhinged because of one girl — one girl he would set the world on fire for.
All that rage comes out faster than magma for Hyunjin and is just as destructive. More so because he's the captain. It consumes all that he is, so delicate under that carefully ordered world and carefully put up feign that he is alright with Minho breaking the heart of the girl he loves. Minho shrivels before him but Hyunjin does not stop. He relentlessly keeps going, stopping short of physical violence but doing far more damage with the words that he throws.
Chan tries to pull Hyunjin away as Jisung drags Minho from underneath him. The black haired man is left with bruises and a busted lip. On the other hand, Hyunjin is still fuming, along with Chan, sporting a few cuts from Minho who decided to throw a few punches in the last moment.
"Can you all stop?" Felix sighs.
"Why would you bastard make her cry again?" Hyunjin raises his voice. He's yelling at this point, loud enough for everyone passing by the gymnasium to hear. "Why the fuck would you make Y/N cry again? I told you to leave her alone!"
"This wouldn't have happened if things went different—" Hyunjin tries to rush forward to hit him again upon hearing his words, but Chan and Changbin, another teammate, have a strong grip on him. His blond ponytail lashes in anger and he fights against the two, trying to let go of himself. Minho yells back, "I would have never broken up with her if you never liked her, Hyunjin."
"What?" He stops still in his tracks, limbs falling and Chan lets go.
"How am I supposed to think it's alright for you to randomly stare at my girlfriend with heart eyes? For fuck's sake, you guys hug way more than I hug her," Minho glares, chest rising up as he vents everything he has bottled up so far. "If you had always liked her, you should have told me! I shouldn't have overheard it from Chan telling you to ask her out." Chan's face pales visibly. "I would have tried making her stay. I would have made her stay. I would have," Minho's voice lowers. "I still did, but I was too late."
Hyunjin has no words to refute. His eyes widen and his heart is in his throat, barely being able to say, "You could have taken it out on me. Why would you drag her into this? She loved you. She still wavers because of you. Your faithless love was the only hoax she was forced to believe."
Jisung pouts in awe at the words Hyunjin spills and Minho mumbles, "I don't know. I couldn't think straight."
Felix drops the ball with force, suddenly. The ball squelches before raising high and hitting the wall with impact. He folds his arms and speaks up, "Stop acting like kids." He points at Minho. "You, stop putting the blame of your failed relationship on Hyunjin. Him liking Y/N did not ruin your relationship. You killed it yourself."
"But he—"
"I liked her even before you made a move on her. Nothing has changed, Minho," Hyunjin inhales sharply.
"It's because you're a coward, you arsehole."
Hyunjin closes his eyes, looking away, mumbling, "Not going to even bother denying that. I'd be dating her if I wasn't this scared of losing her."
Felix proceeds to point at Hyunjin, glaring sharply at him, "You call yourself a captain? We have a match in a few days and you decide to lose control and beat up your teammate? One of the best middle blockers out there! What in the world are you thinking, Hyunjin? Jesus Christ, when Y/N hears of this, she's going to beat you up so bad for doing this to him in the name of the team."
Hyunjin doesn't dare to look up at Felix, shuffling the balance of his body from one feet to another. He is embarrassed. He should have never let his emotions take control of his body and yet he did.
Chan walks towards Felix before announcing, "We'll start practice in five. I want the two of you to sort this out by the end of this day. If you haven't, I don't want either of you coming to practice tomorrow."
"I'm the setter!" Hyunjin protests.
"Jeongin can do a darn good job too, so shut up and listen to me well."
"Now," Felix claps his hand, smiling once again brightly before running to pick up the ball. "Let's practice like the perfect team we are!"
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"And like I couldn't stop myself. It's like something dragged me to move forward and the next thing I knew, I was on top of Minho—"
"Fuck, that'd be hot."
"Y/N, focus. And like I was beating the crap out of him."
You dab an alcoholic swab over the small wounds on his face as he seethes in pain and you sneer, "Deserved it."
"Ouch," Hyunjin fakes offense. "Side with me at least now. You aren't dating him anymore." You stop, your hand midair and you dab constantly over his wounds till Hyunjins screaming, "Ow, ow, ow. I'm sorry," and holds your wrist and pulls it away.
"But you messed up your team dynamics just because of your anger," you frown. "You and Minho better sort it out quickly, Jinnie. Else, I swear to God." You glare at him.
"What will you do?" Hyunjin laughs, scrunching his nose and teasing you. You place the bandaids over the wounds and raise an eyebrow. Hyunjin prompts, "Bite me?"
"I will," you warn and Hyunjin scoffs, "As if."
You bite him. His shoulder, to be exact. Your teeth hold onto his socket for a good one minute tightly till he is yelping, hitting your back to let go of him as he hisses in pain. You let go of him and narrow your eyes at him. Hyunjin is shocked. So shocked that he blankly stares at you with his mouth wide open.
"Are you a dog?"
"I could be one if you taunt me too much."
"Wow," he blinks and you poke the insides of your cheek with your tongue. "Wow, you're truly one of a kind." And Hyunjin breaks down laughing, holding his shoulder with his hand and bending forward overcome by intense laughter.
"Buy me mint choco," he prompts. "Because now you injured me and I want compensation."
"Excuse me?"
Hyunjin pushes himself forward, edging closer to you, looking you in your eyes before saying, "You know you have to," in a low guttural tone that your heart does a whole somersault, triple axle and then lands with an ovation. "You hurt me."
You push him away and you leap onto your feet, your eyes wide and your hand over your chest. Hyunjin looks at you with a raised eyebrow. To change the mood of the situation, you quickly announce, "Fine. You'll get mint chocolate only if you get ready and come out in five minutes. Else you pay for it on your own."
Hyunjin stands up and holding your wrist, he pulls you with him to the door. You look at him in utter confusion and ask, "What are you doing?"
Hyunjin stops in his tracks and turns to look at you, blond strands leaving his ponytail to cover his eyes slightly and pink lips so plump that you wonder how they feel. The realisation that you have started viewing your best friend as someone more than just that hits you and you look down instantly. When did this happen?
"I'll just wear a coat and so should you," Hyunjin laughs. "Ice cream can't wait."
People think of laughing as a noise that comes from the mouth more often than not, but when Hyunjin laughed it was nothing like that. The laugh is in his eyes, in the way his face changes into that vision of relaxed joy and unrestrained mirth. And yet, in all honesty, it is not in his face either. His laugh comes from within, it is just the way he is wired with the instant ability to comfort someone. Just the sound of his gales, his snickers, his giggles, was enough to transport you far away from all your worries and the tension your life has in the minute.
Enough to make you forget that you have to tell him today about the decision you have taken.
Hyunjin and you walk down the stairs and off onto the road in five minutes as planned. The cool air of the night hits you and you hold yourself closer, the long coat held tightly to your body surface. Hyunjin laughs before wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you close by just a little bit and yet enough to share his body warmth.
"Mint choco, here we come!" And he runs with you.
The thing with your stupid heart is that you don't understand why it is beating so rapidly in this moment, your heart beat easily jumping to more than 95bpm and all because Hyunjin holds you. You look at the man by your side, his blond hair moving with the air, exposing his face and you wonder — had Hwang Hyunjin always been this beautiful?
You have known Hyunjin for a long time now. Too long for you to realise that your heart had a change in its plans for emotions recently. You have known Hyunjin way too long to know that you want him for a lifetime by your side, as a best friend at the very least and the thought that if you did act upon your new emotions that you have just discovered in this cold, breezy night, you are screwed.
Hyunjin turns to look back at you after hearing absolutely no sound from you. His face pales when he realises you are looking far ahead and he wonders if you do remember now. If you remember the drunk night.
So he asks to put himself at ease, "Y/N?"
"Huh?" You jolt up to consciousness, looking properly at Hyunjin. "Yeah?"
"Do you remember the night a few days back?"
"Night? Few days back?" You ponder. "When I was drunk?"
"Yeah," Hyunjin mumbles and you raise your body in anticipation, finally wanting to ask about the magical teleportation.
"Now that we are on this topic," you fold your arms and raise your eyebrows at your best friend. Hyunjin shuffles his balance from his left to his right. "Did you carry me to bed that night?"
Hyunjin chokes on air, sputtering out incoherent words before finally forming one proper sentence, "You knew?"
"You're the only other person I live with and I don't have any recollection of going to bed so like I presumed," you look down, heat rising to your cheek and you fidget with your fingers. "That you carried me to bed."
"That's all that you remember?"
You lift your head up, lips pursed and eyebrows furrowed, "Is there more?"
"Uh," Hyunjin turns back to face forward, his broad back in your vision again as he walks forward to the ice cream parlour by the junction.
"Hyunjin?" He walks quicker. "Yah! Hwang Hyunjin!" You follow him with quick, short strides, almost jogging up to him. "What did I do, Jinnie?" He opens the glass door to the ice cream parlour. "Yah, Hwang Hyunjin, tell me no matter how embarrassing it is." You follow him into the white aesthetically pretty place.
You finally catch hold of his coat and tug at it. Hyunjin turns, his cheeks flushed and you wonder what in the world happened that night. Yes, you have vague memories of hugging Hyunjin and passing out, but for him to act like this — wait, you didn't empty your stomach out on him, did you?
"Did I—" Hyunjin's eyes widens. He turns back, his attention on the man behind the counter and he points towards you.
"She's paying."
"Okay," the man nods and turns to look at you, waiting for your order. You sigh, glaring at your best friend before ordering one quantity of mint chocolate ice cream. Your eyes waver to the green ice cream and you frown in displeasure, something Hyunjin catches sight of your expression.
"How dare you?" He folds his arms, dramatically. "The only people that matter in this world are the one that like mint chocolate." The man at the counter smiles at the two of you.
You open your mouth, clicking your tongue, "I'm not paying money to eat toothpaste."
The man behind the counter laughs out loud and Hyunjin glares at him, scoffing. He takes the ice cream from his hand and waits for you to pay. The tall man looks at the two of you, again, before finally telling, "Good luck on your relationship. It's always fun to see couples have an argument over mint chocolate and still be so in love with each other." He turns to look at Hyunjin only, "For your information, I like mint chocolate."
Both Hyunjin and you look at each other, either of you waiting for the other person to disagree with the man but there is just silence. You can feel Hyunjin looking at you through the corners, waiting for you to refute like you always do. You don't and you do not even know why. The heat builds up beneath the apples of your cheek and the thought of being in a relationship with your best friend strangely brings about a wave of calmness within you, doing its best to shove the uncertainty of so many things away.
"Thank you for the ice cream," you say and walk to an empty table. Hyunjin thanks the man too, and follows you, sitting on the seat opposite to you and places the mint chocolate in between.
He watches you, unsure of the situation and you bite your lower lip nervously before shoving the cup closer to him and mumbling, "Eat. We came all the way here for you."
"You should have gotten another ice cream," Hyunjin frowns.
"It's past nine," you laugh, your hair falling over the chair as you lean back. "I can't let fat into my body after nine. You know that."
"Why do I know you?" Hyunjin puts his hand on his forehead looking at you and then he pushes the cup of ice cream towards your side. "Disappointment." You look at your best friend, disgusted and he won't take the disrespect though.
"It's a refreshing taste," he digs in and takes a big bite. "Plus, it's the right balance." He lifts the spoon with a small amount of the mint ice cream and shoves it right in front of your face. "The perfect amount of mint, chocolate and milk to make the world's most perfect ice cream."
You push his hand away and glare, "Why would you ruin two beautiful sweets," you raise an eyebrow, "Chocolate and ice cream by including," you fake a gag, "Mint?"
"Because mint balances the sweetness of the chocolate," he scoffs. "All you mediocre people won't understand. Mint chocolate was created for the elite class."
"Did you just call me mediocre?" your jaw drops and Hyunjin laughs. It's soft, airy and so carefree that you don't mind the fact that he is laughing at you and not with you. You don't mind one bit when you break down and laugh with him, unable to keep your face straight as you lean forward on the table, your head resting on your hands and you watch Hyunjin.
You decide to tell him of your decision in this minute.
"I'm going to make Seungmin manage the team," you tell Hyunjin and he stares at you, the spoon dropping from his hand and clattering against the glass rim of the ice cream cup. You continue, "He's always wanted to manage the volleyball team and I thought I should let him—"
"Why?" He sounds hurt. Disappointed, in fact and your heart plummets down.
"I thought it's time to move on."
"From the team or Minho?"
"Minho," you say, nibbling on your lower teeth. "I want to go back to him—"
"What?" Hyunjin feels his heart sink.
"Don't cut me off, hoe," you click your tongue. "I want to go back to him and be his friend. I'm not ready to ruin a friendship over this. I just won't."
Hyunjin looks down at his cup of ice cream. His spoon digs into the cold dessert over and over again till he realises that he'll do what he has always done for you — be right by your side as your pillar.
"Feed me," Hyunjin prompts and you stare at him with a void expression, mouth still open, wondering if he suggested this only and only to change the topic. Hyunjin stretches his arm out to shut your mouth. "People are going to think I'm starving you here."
"Whoa." You lift your head up. "And if I do that, people are going to think we're possibly the cutest couple out there still in our glorious honeymoon phase of it."
"Okay," Hyunjin shrugs and leans back against the chair, folding his arms against each other.
"Okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine with that."
You sit up straight and look down before finally saying, "Don't say that."
"Say what?"
"Those words that make my heart flutter. I don't know what to feel, Hyunjin." Hyunjin is too stunned to react and whine over the fact that you called him properly by his name in your conversation. The fact that he too can cause your heart to race a little bit just like you have with his all these years. "Don't say them to me if you won't ever be ready to take responsibility over them."
You place your thumb and forefinger on your forehead, squeezing the skin slightly to calm the slight ache you can feel, the vein throbbing slightly and you know it is your anxiety that kicks in because you almost spilled everything out. You quickly stand up and holding your coat tightly, you look at Hyunjin who is still seated and looking at you intently.
"I need to go to the pharmacy next door. I'll wait for you there. Finish your ice cream and come."
You don't turn to look at Hyunjin as you walk out, slightly embarrassed by your own behaviour. Between you and Hyunjin, you are the one who had to keep your cool, making sure you didn't slip up or make a mess so that you could at least have time to clean his spilt milk.
You push the door of the ice cream parlour and walk out, the doorbell ringing at your push and you hold yourself in the cold breeze. If Hyunjin did not respond to it, it is only safe to presume that he feels nothing more towards you. You could at least put two and two together. Or so you thought till Hyunjin is chasing after you, big strides and dark blond hair in the wind as his rubber band comes loose and slides off a bit.
"Y/N!" He shouts and quickly holds your wrist, pulling you so quickly that you stumble forward into him. Hyunjin grips your arms to steady you and he looks at you, his brown eyes trying to peep into your soul. He smiles, hand running through his hair only to bring more strands forward, covering his vision.
Falling in love with Hwang Hyunjin, you realise, is the easy part. He makes it so easy to fall for him — when he smiles at the sun, covering his eyes or when he is covered by the dogs in dog parks all eager to hug him because that's how he just is. You don't even realise when you fall for Hyunjin but when you do, you know you are already sinking and you are far too gone for saving.
It is, however, admitting to yourself that you fell for your best friend that is hard. The Hwang Hyunjin that you have seen since the five year old boy moved next door to you. The Hwang Hyunjin that would cross dress in your clothes. The Hwang Hyunjin that would steal your dumplings. It is the same Hwang Hyunjin that you fall for. You had all these doors with specifications that opened to only men like Lee Minho and yet like the rude asshole that you oh so adorably love he seemed to tear them down. Or perhaps those doors were meant for others and Hyunjin always had a door of his own for your heart.
You should have asked yourself why but would it have really mattered? You're here with Hyunjin by your side, whether he knows your feelings or not and you couldn't be any less glad, even if you are sometimes hiding, imagining a distance instead of seeing Hyunjin right there.
"I'll come back, Jinnie," you tell him, looking up at him and coughing slightly, trying to move back slightly to put some space between the two of you. "I'm not running away. I just need to buy some strips of paraceta—"
"I want to be responsible for them," His gaze doesn't leave yours. "I want to be responsible for you, your emotions and everything you are, if you let me."
You wouldn't dare to shift your eyes away, or focus on anything else. Just Hyunjin. Just your Hyunjin. Your heart beats so fast against your chest that you wonder if it ever had this much for any man or woman. And when Hyunjin pulls you into him, his arms wrapping around your frame, hand flat against your head that buries your face into his chest, you learn that Hwang Hyunjin's heartbeat is always your metronome — the beat your entire life seemed to have moved smoothly to.
You giggle against his chest, breaking into a smile, "Are you asking me out, Jinnie?"
"I guess," he chuckles into your hair, snuggling himself into you. He pulls you back to explain. "My original plan was to ask you out after the practice match that I'll make sure we win, but you could possibly not be there as our manager and what if I miss the chance?"
"You lovesick boy," you laugh, smiling stupidly at him. Hyunjin cups your face and presses his forehead against yours.
"I've liked you for so long, Y/N," and you blush, lips pursed and you smile back, heart fluttering.
"Thank you," you press a kiss against his cheek.
"For what?"
"For being you and for always loving me."
Hwang Hyunjin holds your face and kisses like he is capable of getting rid of all your worries, slowly bleeding into your marrows and cells and soaking you of the very essence he is. He holds you like you are a precious being — and to him, you are because he finally has you after all these years; he finally gets to call you his.
His lips are warm and tasted of mint; obviously from the mint chocolate ice cream earlier. His hands are wrapped around your waist and yours are locked around his neck pulling him down slightly. His strands of blond locks brush against your face, ticking you slightly and you giggle into the kiss. He laughs against your lips before kissing you slowly, drawing the kiss for as long as he could. When you break apart for air, you lean forward and rest your forehead against his, gathering some much needed oxygen. His smile tells you everything you need confirmation over and you smile back, sinking into his hold.
Hyunjin hugs with gentle arms that still gives the space to breathe; yet it is the hug of a strong pair of arms that tells everything that you are - every fibre of your being - that he is with you, and you wonder how he is capable of that. How he is capable of holding like you are his whole world — like he rather hold you than anything else.
Hyunjin does exactly that. He holds you tight and close to him in this cold night, ignorant of everything else around the two of you, like you and him only mattered in the place, like you and him are fireworks in this velvet dark, the blaze that dares to light up the night.
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sebastianshaw · 3 years
Conversation
RP Meme from The Lost Boys
I told you to stay off the boardwalk.
Hey, I liked that song.
I don't see any boogeymen or nasty guys.
Wait. That's from my era!
That's the ocean air.
Smells like someone died.
Looks like he's dead. No, he's just a deep sleeper.
If he's dead, can we go back to [PLACE]?
What's wrong with this picture? There's no TV. Have you seen a TV? I haven't seen a TV.
You're the only woman I ever knew who didn't improve her situation by getting divorced.
A big legal war wasn't going to improve anybody's situation.
Ouch. My hair.
Talk about the Texas Chainsaw Massacre.
We've got some rules around here. Second shelf is
mine. That's where I keep my root beers and my double-thick Oreo cookies. Nobody touches the second shelf but me.
There's another rule around here, and I want you to pay
close attention. Don't touch anything. Everything is exactly where I want it.
There are some bad elements around here.
You're telling me we've moved to the murder capital of the world?
If all the corpses buried around here were to stand up all at once we'd have one hell of a population problem.
I just like to read the TV Guide. Read the TV Guide, you don't need a TV.
I was so worried. Don't run off like that.
We were that age, too, once. Only they dress better.
You have a generous nature. I like that in a person.
So how may I help you this evening? We have it all.
I look that needy, huh?
You're chasing that girl, aren't you?
I'm at the mercy of your sex glands.
Don't you have something better to do than follow me around all night?
Just scoping your civilian wardrobe.
Listen buddy, if you're looking for the diet frozen-yogurt bar, it went out of business last summer.
That's a very serious book, man.
Only five in existence.
Where the hell are you from? Krypton?
Nobody drives this baby but me.
We have to let it warm up a little. Hear that sound? Just like a baby pussycat.
That's as close to town as I like to get.
It's a pretty cool place. If you're a Martian. Or a vampire.
Are you guys sniffing old newsprint or something?
You think you really know what's happening here, don't you? Well, I'll tell you something. You don't know shit buddy.
This is just our cover. We are dedicated to a higher
purpose. We're fighters for Truth Justice, and the American
way.
Think of it more as a survival manual.
There's our number on the back and pray you never need to call us.
I'll pray I never need to call you.
If you want your ear pierced, I'll do it.
I came this close to being called Moon Beam or Moon Child Or something like that.
I can't beat your bike.
You don't have to beat me, [NAME]. You just have to try
and keep up.
Just you! Come on! Just you!
That's what I love about this place. You ask, and then you get.
I can never sleep with the closet door open, either. Not even a crack.
Don't sneak up on people like that!
What, you don't like rice? Tell me [NAME], how could a
billion Chinese people be wrong? Come on!
You're eating maggots. How do they taste?
Sorry about that. No hard feelings, huh?
Drink some of this, [NAME]. Be one of us.
Give me those sunglasses.
You need sunglasses to talk on the phone?
Are you freebasing? Inquiring minds want to know.
Anything in here that might pass for after-shave?
Have a big date tonight, [NAME]?
Lose the earring, [NAME]. It's not you. It's definitely
not you.
All you do is give attitude lately.
Go take your bath.
What did you do to my dog, asshole?
I didn't hurt him. He bit me. This is my blood.
Why did he bite you, huh? What did you do to him?
He was protecting you.
Look at your reflection in the mirror. You're a creature of
the night, [NAME]. Just like out of a comic book.
My own brother/sister/friend/etc, a goddam shit-sucking vampire.
You wait 'til[NAME] finds out!
Just let me talk. Wait a minute! [NAME]!
You did the right thing by calling us.
Does the sunlight freak him out?
He wears sunglasses in the house.
He always had bad breath, though.
He's a vampire all right. Here's what you do.
I can't do that! He's my brother/sister/mother/friend/etc!
You better get yourself a garlic T-shirt, buddy. Or it's
your funeral.
I think we have to have a real long talk about something.
[NAME] help! He's coming to get me!
[NAME], help me! Open up! Help me! [NAME], open the window!
So what are you, the flying nun?
We're gonna work this out. We*re gonna work this out. Trust
me, okay?
I thought I saw something on my window, but I guess I got carried away.
I would like to have a personal life too.
Can I sleep in here with you tonight?
You smell like garlic.
What's happening to me, [NAME]?
I don't know how to help you.
Aren't we friends anymore?
Then let's act like friends. Let's talk.
We could talk about anything you want to talk about.
I have more serious things on my mind than girls and school. Things I'm dealing with.
Looks like I wasn't the only one who got lucky last night.
The dog chased my mom like the Hounds of Hell from Vampires
Everywhere.
We've been aware of some very serious vampire activity in
town for a long time.
[PLACE] has become a haven for the undead.
As a matter of fact, we're almost certain that ghouls and
werewolves occupy high position at City Hall.
Kill your brother/sister/boyfriend/aunt/best friend/etc, you'll feel better!
Look, it says here that if you kill the head vampire all half-vampires will return to normal.
Does he know who the head vampire is?
You'll have to kill him. And if you don't, we will.
Vampire require a daytime protector, a guardian to watch
over them as they sleep. Fierce dogs, the Hounds of Hell,
are often employed for this purpose.
Truth, Justice, The American way triumphs.
Smells good. When do we eat?
Are we gonna have company again?
Well, you are the man of the house and I'm not coming in until you invite me.
He promises to behave if you come back.
I didn't know you were having guests.
Our batting average isn't terrific, is it? Zero for two.
You're so sweet to him.
I don't know what got in to him. He's not like that.
If you ever want to see [NAME] again, you better come with
us now.
Initiation's over, [NAME]. Time to join the club.
Don't kill me, [NAME]. I'm basically a good kid, so just
don't kill me.
Just work with me and I can help you. You'll be okay.
Is she one of them?
You shut the window and lock your door.
She's one of them! And don't tell me it doesn't make her a
bad person, [NAME]!
Yes, and it's my fault. You would've not met me, if I
hadn't liked you. I tried to warn you.
You drank someone's blood? Are you crazy?
We're not them.
Why didn't you kill me last night?
You're supposed to be my first.
What are you doing here? What do you want from me?
Don't kill anybody until we get back to you!
I got connections.
The night crawler. The bloodsucker. El Vampiro.
I don't want you going down there.
Look, this isn't a comic book, [NAME]. These guys are
brutal killers.
Who'd you rather go down in with you? Them or me?
If something happens down there, I won't have the strength
to protect you.
This time I'll protect you.
Even though you're a vampire, you're still my brother/sister/friend/etc
If you try to stop us, or vamp out in any way, I'll stake
you without even thinking twice about it!
Where did you say you met these guys?
Don't you touch her. Stay away from her.
Flies and the undead go together like bullets and guns.
There must be coffins here someplace.
I thought they'd be in coffins.
That's what this cave is. It's one giant coffin.
Right now they're at their most vulnerable. Easy pickings.
Remember. You just have to kill the leader.
We don't know which one he is.
I guess we'll just have to kill them all.
What's that, a little vampire humor? It wasn't funny.
Good night, bloodsucker.
We blew it, man! We lost it!
We unraveled in the face of the enemy!
They pulled a mind-scramble on us!
We don't ride with vampires.
"Burn rubber" does not mean warp speed!
Your dog knows a flesh-eater when he smells one.
The sun goes down. They'll be looking for us.
[PLACE] is crawling with vampires
They're coming to the house as soon as it gets dark!
I'm gonna see [NAME] tonight, and you're trying to ruin it for me.
I don't know what you don't want me to see.
I'm not talking about [NAME]! To hell with [NAME]!
Good. That's just the way we like it.
We've got a date tonight?
They'll be coming for all of us.
It's just old memories coming back.
Why are you so jumpy tonight?
He seemed so sincere, but it's insane.
Tell me. I promise not to laugh. Honest.
I think I should warn you all when a vampire dies, it's never a pretty sight.
Some yell and scream. Some go quietly. Some explode. Some implode. But all will try to take you with them.
Don't go out there! Stop him!
I say we terminate them right now.
You're mine. You killed [NAME]
Try the holy water, dead breath!
I nailed one of them downstairs with a bow and arrow.
We trashed the one that looked like Twisted Sister.
We totally annihilated his night stalkin' ass!
Death to all vampires!
We are awesome monster bashers!
Holy shit! The attack of Eddie Monster!
Stop! Get away from him! Just stay away from him! He's just
a little boy.
You're afraid to face me, [NAME]?
I tried to make you immortal.
You tried to make me a killer!
Stop fighting me, [NAME]. I don't want to kill you. Join us.
It is too late, my blood is in your veins.
Don't let them see me like this.
What happened to your face?
I knew it. You are the head vampire.
You're the secret [NAME] was protecting.
Don't ever invite a vampire into your house, you silly boy/girl/etc.
It renders you powerless.
Has everyone gone crazy? What's the matter with all of you?
It was you I was after, all along, [NAME]
It was all going to be so perfect, [NAME]
Just like one big happy family.
Great. The bloodsucking Brady Bunch.
I still want you, [NAME]. I haven't changed my mind about that.
I didn't invite you this time, [NAME]
Don't you touch my mother/father/son/dog/etc
Don't fight, [NAME]. It's so much better if you don't fight.
How much do you think we should charge them for this?
One thing about living in [PLACE] I never could
stomach--all the damn vampires.
11 notes · View notes
caranfindel · 4 years
Text
Fic: Flies in the Vaseline
Tumblr media
gen, preseries | about 1700 words | PG-13 for language | characters: dean winchester, john winchester, sam winchester | warnings: gratuitous use of second person
Synopsis: The best hunters don't smoke. Inspired by a Tumblr post (waves to @road-rhythm​)
. . . . . . .
The first time your father caught you smoking, you braced for impact, literally and figuratively. You half expected him to smack the cigarette out of your lips. You definitely expected an angry lecture. But he just looked at you, so calm it was almost scary.
"That's not your first one," he finally said. "How often are you doing that?"
Emboldened, you finished the cigarette in one long, last draw, tossing it onto the asphalt and grinding it out with the tip of your boot. "Not a lot. Not every day. Just… sometimes."
"Mmm hmmm." He was still unnaturally calm. "You think that's a good idea?"
You swallowed a laugh at the possibility that smoking might be what got you in the end, rather than a claw or a fang. "I'm not letting it get out of hand," you said.
"Oh, so you think you've got a handle on it." Ah, there it was. That patented John Winchester attitude, disappointment garnished with a dollop of sarcasm. And it pissed you off.
"Yessir, I think I do. I don't think one cigarette to help me relax every once in a while is going to hurt me." Not any more than the constant infusion of Jack Daniels is hurting you, you wanted to point out, but you were not stupid enough to say that out loud.
He stared at you a little bit longer. Maybe thinking you're old enough to make your own decisions, but more likely thinking you dumbass, I don't even know what to do with you. Finally he said "All right, if you think you've got this situation under control, let's see how that works out for you. But don't let Sam see you doing it. You know how the kid looks up to you."
You replayed every word in your mind, looking for the command. It wasn't there. "So you're not telling me to stop?"
"Would it matter if I did?"
That felt like a trap, and you didn't answer.
He didn't mention it again, and didn't see you smoking again, until a couple of months later. You'd successfully cleaned out a pack of ghouls with some friends of his (no, not friends, associates; John Winchester didn't really make friends), and when Ripley pulled out a Marlboro and then waved his pack at you, you took one. Your father watched and scowled and didn't say a word.
But later, when you were in the car for the long drive back to the motel, something clicked. Or snapped. Because you were almost eighteen years old, you'd been hunting monsters since you were barely old enough to jack off, you were younger than all the guys you'd hunted with tonight and still better than most of them, and you'd just killed your first ghoul. And he didn't say good job, Dean or I'm proud of you or anything. He just bitchfaced about your smoking. And you'd had enough. You drank like a man and fucked like a man and hunted like a man and you weren't going to hide cigarettes from your Daddy like a little boy any more.
You reached into your jacket pocket and pulled out the half-empty pack that had been stashed in there for a couple of weeks. And this time you didn't expect it at all, so you jumped when your father slapped the cigarette out of your hand.
"Not in my car," he snapped.
"Jesus, Dad," you said, embarrassed. "Chill out. All you gotta do is ask."
"No, I don't have to ask," he growled. "I'm telling you. Not in my car."
A couple of miles went by before he spoke again. "Dean," he said, "I know you're going to do what you want to do, when I'm not around. I just want to make sure you're making an informed decision. You know what smoking is going to do to you, right?"
"What," you said, "give me lung cancer? Like I'm gonna live long enough to worry about that?"
He sighed. "Yes, I do hope you live long enough to worry about that. But I'm not talking about lung cancer. I'm not talking about long term. I'm talking about right now. The way it affects your lungs. Do you think shortness of breath is an advantage for a hunter?"
"Didn't seem to hurt Ripley."
"Oh, Ripley." His lip curled. "So that's your goal, then? To be as good a hunter as Ripley?"
You wanted to scream that it was so fucking unfair, that you'd done every goddamn thing the man ever wanted. That you were already better than Ripley and most other hunters and the world wasn't going to end if he loosened the reins just the tiniest bit. You wanted to ask him if he was ever going to be satisfied, if you were ever going to be enough.
You didn't. You tucked the half-empty pack back into your pocket and rode silently back to the motel.
. . .
And now it's the next morning. There's no post-hunt day off, no downtime, as usual. Your father barks a reveille at o'dark thirty, and by the time the sun comes up you're shivering on an empty high school football practice field. Sam peers up at you through messy bangs, silently questioning. You shrug.
"Sam?" Dad asks. "How fast can a black dog run?"
Sam looks pleased that today's training includes a mental component, since that's the only way he ever comes out on top. "They've been clocked at twenty miles an hour," he says. "Maybe up to twenty-five. For short bursts, anyway. Not long distance."
"So let's say twenty miles an hour. Convert that to yards per second."
Sam gives him a puzzled look, then closes his eyes and furiously calculates in his head. "Um… ten. Almost ten yards per second."
"Good job." Sam practically glows in the wake of Dad's faint praise. "Okay, Dean, your turn. Couple laps around the field. Fast."
Fine. You sprint down the field, legs and arms pumping, watching Dad and Sam out of the corner of your eye. They're still standing at the edge of the field, talking. Well, Dad's talking. Sam is listening. Your brother reaches out to high-five you as you pass. The little shit's in a good mood after getting to show off his mathlete skills.
You circle the field again, fast, because you're not going to give the old man a reason to bitch at you, to give you the disappointed turned-down mouth and the narrowed you've failed me eyes. At the end of your second lap you pull up, sweaty and out of breath, ignoring the stitch in your side.
Your father gives you an enigmatic smile. "You doing okay, son?"
"Yessir."
"All right. Stay here for a sec." He puts his hand on Sam's back and steers him down the field. "Here's the scenario," he calls, when they stop. "Your brother's 30 yards away from you. His leg is broken, so he can't run. And there's a black dog 40 yards away from him, about to pounce. You're out of ammo, so you have to take it down with a knife. So you've got to get to Sam before the black dog does."
Forty yards. Four seconds. Motherfucker.
He looks at his watch and barks "go!" and for a moment you think you might be able to do it. Maybe if you'd already been in motion, you would have had a chance. But you can't sprint forty yards in four seconds from a standstill. You just can't. Even if you hadn't been out of breath to start with, it would have been difficult. You're still almost ten yards away when your father grabs Sam from behind. Sam shrieks with laughter (it's a happy noise, you tell your panicky lizard brain, a happy noise, goddammit) and his skinny legs go flying as Dad spins him away from you, out of reach.
You pull up and lean over with your hands braced on your knees, acting like you're stretching, because you don't want to look up into your father's smug smile.
"Okay, Sam," he says, "your turn. Two laps. Go."
When your brother is out of hearing range, you straighten up and try to force yourself to breathe normally. When you can speak, it comes out in short bursts.
"You know that's… a bunch of crap… right?"
"What's that, son?" he says mildly, his eyes following Sam down the field.
"The smoking's got nothing to do with… with me being out of breath right now… I hardly smoke at all… it takes me the better part of a month to finish a pack… and that's gonna bring me down like, one percent, tops… and me reducing my lung capacity by one percent isn't gonna affect anything… I couldn't have got to him in time… smoking or not."
"That's true," he says, turning to you. "Sometimes even a hundred percent isn't enough. And most days, it won’t matter. Most days, ninety-nine percent is going to do the job. But one day you're going to need a hundred percent. And you never know when that day's gonna come, Dean. So, is tomorrow gonna be a ninety-nine percent day? Are you ready to bet your life on it? My life?" He turns to look at Sam, loping back up the field toward you. "His life? Something happens to him, it's gonna be bad enough knowing you couldn't have stopped it. How's it gonna feel knowing you could have?"
You don't have an answer for that, but your father's not waiting for one. "Sam!" he yells. "Kick it into gear the rest of the way! You're in a sprint, not a marathon!" Sam ducks his head and runs, slender arms and legs frantically churning as if something dark is snarling at his heels.
. . .
(Tonight, in your nightmares, you'll be unable to breathe, running slow and sluggish like you're pushing through chest-deep water, like you’re drowning in Vaseline. You'll watch helplessly as Sam falls, screaming, taken down by something dark, something snarling, something hungry with fangs and claws. You'll wake with a pained gasp and flush the last of the cigarettes down the toilet. You’ll spend half an hour silently watching your little brother sleep, still hearing him scream your name. And you'll know you're a failure, you let everyone down; you can never, will never be enough. )
(And the next day, you’ll go out and try anyway.)
~ ~ ~ ~
The title is from Vasoline by Stone Temple Pilots, but the actual product is spelled Vaseline and therefore I insist on spelling it that way.
52 notes · View notes
fallout4reactsblog · 5 years
Note
Companions react to in-game glitches and other inconsistencies happening around (/being used by Sole)? Flying on an engine, cars jumping around spinning at crazy speed, corpses/items moving like they're possesed, settlement structures hovering in the air with a single ladder piece attached, people "swimming" on land, instantly getting all items from a smallest piece of meat... (Just not normal gameplay features like saveloading and Pip-boy stopping time, but 100s of items in pockets will do)
 Cait: She wiped the sweat off her brow, letting her ball bat hang loosely at her side. A trail of blood followed her fingers as her eyes surveyed the room, taking in the blood, guts, and general gore that now decorated the floor and walls. Her and Sole sure had made a mess.
They folded their arms, a satisfied smile on their face. “The loot’s gonna be great. You take that half of the room, I’ll take this half?”
“Yeah, alright.”
She moved toward her half as sole crouched down in front of a man whose head had been cracked open like a walnut, brain spilling out of the ruined shards of his skull. Without hesitation, sole picked up a lump of brain flesh, turning it over in their hands before sinking their fingers in.
“Sole, what the fu-”
Her words stopped short as sole pulled a 10 mm pistol from the chunk, looked it over and made a face, then tossed it to the side. They pushed their hand in again, this time emerging with a stimpack, which they tucked into their pocket.
“What the fuck?” Cait whispered as sole pulled out several pieces of armor, a set of road leathers, and a tattered but still-intact box of InstaMash.
Sole looked up, the box still in their hand. “What’s wrong?”
“You just- all that- from one chunk of brain?”
“Uh, yeah? That’s the stuff they had on them. Not much of interest.”
“Normal people don’t do that.”
They just laughed.
“I’m serious, sole. That’s fucked up. You can’t pull a pistol out of somebody’s brains and not expect people to look at you funny!”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
Curie: “Madame/Monsieur, do you think that man is… alright?”
“Which one?” Sole looked up from their drink, peering around the bar.
“The man over there, who is having a seat on, ah, nothing.”
Sole squinted toward where Curie was pointing, and sure enough, some strange man was relaxing next to a table, seemingly comfortable in a ninety degree squat. He took a sip of beer as if to prove it.
They hummed, eyebrows furrowed. “Goodneighbor folks sure are strange, huh?”
“I do not think he is well.”
“Maybe he’s just had a bad dose of Jet? Or too much to drink?”
“Best not to stare, I think. It is not polite, oui?”
They laughed a little and turned into their drink. “I suppose so. let him do what he needs to do.”
“At the very least, it will be an excellent workout for his thighs.”
Danse: He’d pinch the bridge of his nose, if not for the power armor, so he settled for folding his arms instead.
“Sole. Carrying all of that junk around is just going to slow you down. Let it go.”
They huffed, shoving another tin can into their pocket. “They have more uses than you think they do.”
“Is the same to be said for the empty beer bottles?”
“Actually,” they said, scooping two up and shoving them into the same pocket, “it is.”
“The alarm clocks?”
“Even more useful.”
“The typewriter?” he asked, watching them shove a whole one into the chest of their vault suit, never to be seen until they found a workbench.
“The most useful of all.”
He eyed how smooth the pockets of their suit were, despite the number of items he knew they were carrying. He was surprised they had room for junk at all, given the number of weapons, ammunition, and armor they were carrying.
“Sole, how strong are you, exactly?”
“Not sure,” they replied, scooping up a screwdriver and a hammer, tucking them into the same pocket the tin cans and beer bottles had gone into.
“Better question, how do you manage to pack all of those items into your pocket?”
They looked down at the pocket, which hadn’t even begun to look full. “I don’t know. I just put stuff into there until I can’t carry any more.”
“That works?”
They shrugged. “Somehow. How do you think I get you to carry all that stuff?”
His eyebrows shot up. “I’m carrying things?”
“Uh-huh. You’re great at it.”
“What am I even carrying it in?”
They just smiled at him. “Does it matter if I take it all out after?”
“Yes. It does.”
They refused to answer, and all Danse could hope was that they didn’t try to store things in his power armor joints.
Deacon: “Hey, sole, come over here a sec.”
Sole wiped the super mutant blood off their arm, flicking it to the side as they picked their way over to him. “What’s up?”
He pointed wordlessly at the body of a super mutant that was slowly sinking into the ground, headless. Sole stood silently at his side, watching the Earth slowly devour the carcass, inch by inch consuming it. They seemed to stand there for hours as it sank. There was no sound, no wet sucking or movement of Earth. Simply a super mutant defying any laws of physics that Deacon had ever known.
When all was said and done, and the last of the body had disappeared, Deacon nodded sharply. “His soul and body are with Todd now.”
Sole stared at him a moment before laughing, an ugly snort-laugh that turned their voice up an octave. “Todd? Who the hell is Todd?”
“I don’t know,” he said, giggling a little himself. “Someone who likes super mutants I guess.”
“He must like them a lot!”
They laughed a moment longer, then sole sighed and reached into their pocket for a tin can. Solemnly, they placed on the spot that the super mutant had disappeared.
“Here lies Howard, consumed by Todd. May he find his peace.”
“Howard is a terrible name for a super mutant.”
They stuck out their tongue at him. “I don’t see you coming up with any ideas.”
“Super mutants need weird names, like ‘Blood’ and ‘Guts’ and, uh…”
“Hamburger,” sole supplied.
He nodded sternly. “Exactly. Now you’ve got the hang of it. Here lies Hamburger. May he find peace with Todd.”
Sole placed another tin can on top of the other with a flourish, and they walked away, discussing other good super mutant names.
Gage: “Boss, I’ve got a question.”
“Shoot.”
“How, uh, solid would you say the average ghoul is?”
“Depends on the ghoul. Bloated ghouls are about ten percent, because they’re all, y’know, bloated. Your standard run-of-the-mill crazy ghoul is about forty percent. They get pretty squishy because of the rads. Sane ghouls are a solid eighty, which is higher than the human seventy, because they lose a lot of soft tissues.”
“So they should not be able to be halfway through walls?”
They hummed thoughtfully. “Not unless they’re in a hole.”
He eyed the wall the ghoul was stuck in, nudging it with the butt of his gun, and determined it to be quite solid. “No hole. Just a ghoul through a wall.”
“Gage, ghouls can’t go through walls if the wall is solid. Someone chopped a ghoul in two and mounted it on either side of the wall.”
He poked at it a little more. “It’s definitely in one piece, boss.”
“Gage.” Their tone was warning. “I’m going to come over there, but if I find out you’re fucking with me, or pulling my leg, I’m going to kick your ass. Got it?”
“Yeah, sure.”
They appeared at his side, almost scarily quiet. He gestured to the body vaguely, half-disgusted.
“Yeah, they shouldn’t do that.” Sole nudged at the thing with their boot, making a face. “Just leave it.”
“Doubt I could get it out of the wall anyway.”
They snorted, then leveled their pistol to put one round in its back. Gage leapt away as the wall suddenly decided the ghoul shouldn’t be in it and launched it across the room. Sole’s hand shot out as if to protect him, and they stared at it a moment.
“Just leave it,” he echoed.
“No kidding.”
Hancock: He stared down the road at the body of a now-dead raider, one hand gently rubbing his forehead. He turned back to sole, who was now shaking out their wrist. He looked back down the road.
“Damn, this batch of Jet is fucked.”
“What makes you say that?”
“I swear you punched that guy all the way down the street.”
“Oh, uh, yeah. That actually happened.”
“Huh?”
He peered back down the street, suddenly trying to put reality together where he thought there was only illusion. “So, how strong did you say you were?”
“Definitely not strong enough to punch a guy down the block, I’ll tell you that.”
He considered that. “So the Jet’s not fucked, but physics is?”
They laughed. “Seems so. Gravity decided to not come in today.”
“Hey, he earned it. Hardest worker around. Let him take a vacation, right?”
“As long as I don’t go floating off, I’d love to keep punching people and watching them fly away.”
“Pretty entertaining if you ask me.”
They turned to him with a mischievous smile. “Bet it’s even better on Day Tripper.”
“I’ve got some of that. Right, ah, here.” He pulled a bottle of pills from his pocket, shaking it enticingly.
“Well, let’s go find some more raiders and see if we can make it happen again.”
MacCready: He stretched out, listening to the bones in his back pop. “I say we call it a night. It’s dark, and I’m getting tired.”
“I could go for a nap,” they replied, though they didn’t look all that tired. “I think that Outpost Zimonja is close to here, we can catch some shuteye there.”
“It’s safe?”
They chuckled. “Should be. I built the place myself.”
“I guess it’ll have to do then,” he said teasingly. “Though how good your judgment is, no one knows.”
“Jury’s still out,” they replied, happily playing along, “but the other settlers aren’t complaining yet.”
They made their way to the settlement, sky darkening around them. Sole pushed through the gate at the front of the settlement, and showed him past the turrets and guard tower to the rest.
It was small but otherwise cozy, and sole beckoned him over to the workbench. “I need the stuff you’re carrying for me.”
“Sure.” 
He rifled around in his pockets, passing every item to sole’s outstretched hands. That it took a few minutes was expected, but after the tenth desk fan and thirtieth ball peen hammer, he was getting suspicious at the amount of stuff he was finding on him. How did he carry that much weight? It seemed, well, impossible.
“That should be it,” they said after nearly twenty minutes, tucking a handful of pencils into one of the workbench drawers. “Thanks.”
He stared down at his thin arms, trying to imagine how he hadn’t even noticed all the items he’d been carrying. “What the heck did you do to me?”
“Oh, with all the stuff you were carrying. I just asked you to pick it up. You don’t seem to notice when I ask you to grab it for me, as opposed to when I hand it to you myself, so I just asked you to grab the junk I couldn’t carry.”
“But- I- I don’t-”
They slapped a hand on his shoulder. “Try not to think about it too hard. Let’s just get some rest, okay?”
“Sure,” he said, but the way his thoughts were spinning told him he wouldn’t be sleeping at all.
Nick: “Sole,” he said, honestly trying his hardest not to laugh, “you can’t do that.”
“And why not?” They grinned at him, hands on their hips, clearly pleased with their work.
“It’s just- It’s not right sole. You can’t put beds in walls and expect everything to be okay.”
“I think I can,” they replied. “The settlers can sleep in it just fine.”
“How the hell do they do that?”
“Simple. They lay in the wall too.”
That was enough to make Nick Valentine, synth detective, lose his composure, and he burst out laughing. Not a small giggle, either, a full laugh, one that left him doubled over and leaning against the wall for support. He hadn’t laughed so hard in a long time, but the thought of some poor settler laying in a wall to sleep had him in absolute fits.
When he finally calmed, only a smile lingering on his face, he gestured to the half-inside, half-outside bed and simply said, “How?”
“Oh, silly Nick,” they teased. “It’s on a rug! Don’t you know that if it’s on a rug, it can do anything? I can put beds through walls, I can put bookshelves though walls, I can put anything through a wall, as long as it’s on a rug.”
“Oh my God.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, still smiling. “I don’t even want to know how you figured that out. So you saw the ways you could break all the rules and immediately decided you’d put beds through walls.”
“Of course! What else does one do with such power?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. Are you going to put the bed back inside?”
“Heavens no. Then it wouldn’t be funny at all, just boring. It’d look like every other house out there.”
“It does add a certain, ah, uniqueness I suppose.”
They bumped his shoulder with theirs. “Now you get it.”
Preston: “Sole, when I asked you to build a settlement in Hangman’s Alley, you know this isn’t what I meant.”
They shrugged. “You said to build a settlement, so I did.”
He raised an eyebrow, still staring at the supposed settlement they’d built. A single staircase touched the ground, and the rest of the building expanded from that, hovering above a grid of garden plots that held the crops and water pumps that fed the settlement. As impressive as it was, he couldn’t imagine it was safe.
“I know what you’re thinking.” They spoke before he could even open his mouth. “I promise that it’s safe. I just got tired of building the same old buildings over and over again, so I wanted to do something different. I tested it before I let anyone in and I did the math, and I swear that it’s not coming down anytime soon.”
He glanced over at them, and though they were his general, all he saw in their eyes was a need for approval. Maybe a hint of embarrassment at having been caught, but mostly a need for him to trust them and like it as much as they did.
“Well,” he sighed, turning back, “it’s definitely new. And practical, given the small space.”
“Do you like it?” Their voice was so hopeful, so bright, and yet so fragile.
“Yeah,” he said with a smile. “I like it a lot.”
“Do you want to have a look inside.”
“I’d love to.”
X6: “You cannot fly.”
“Yes I can,” they said cheekily.
“No, you cannot.” He folded his arms. “Not without the assistance of some sort of machine.”
They held their hand out. “Give me your jacket.”
He raised an eyebrow, clearly conveying his displeasure with that idea.
“I promise to give it back,” they huffed. “I’ll even clean it for you after. I just want to show you that I can, in fact, fly.”
He considered the offer a moment, then begrudgingly removed his coat. Their face lit up and, for a brief moment, he almost didn’t regret it.
“Alright, X6. Watch and learn.”
He watched, slightly curious, as they laid the coat on the floor, the crouched down and positioned themselves so they were standing on it. He almost protested their dirty boots on the leather, but they had offered to clean it, so he decided against it.He simply observed them grab to solid handfuls of fabric, getting a good hold on it, and then he watched them jump.
And somehow, they stayed there, floating in the air on top of his coat.
He slid his glasses down his nose, and softly murmured, “Holy shit.”
“See?” They jumped again, rising further into the air. “I told you I could fly.”
“You did. My apologies, ma’am/sir. Though I would recommend you bring this to the attention of our scientists immediately.”
They released their hold on the coat, falling gracefully to the floor. “Why, you think they’d be interested?”
He leveled a stern look at them over his glasses. “You just broke physics, ma’am/sir. I think the term ‘interested’ is an understatement.”
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austenpoppy · 5 years
Text
A review of "The Wonderful Won-Won" chapter 4 (part 1 because I'm a fangirl)
@hillnerd I said I would do it after my exams to take the time to say all I wanted to say and so do justice to your work, so here I am ! I always keep my promises. But Tumblr would not let me reblog this particular chapter, that's why I had to do a separate post.
Edit : I have seen your post about your father. I send you my best regards and all the hugs. I know it is hard. Love you. I know it's not much but I hope it will cheer you up a bit.
So if you want to find the chapter I'm talking about, go see Hillnerd's blog or follow this link : https://m.fanfiction.net/u/666390/
I recommend you all the other fics written by Hillnerd, they're fantastic.
So... yeah, my reaction to your chapter when I read it for the first time...
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OH MY GOD ! OH MY GOD ! OH MY GOD ! Oh mon Dieu !
I'm smiling, a huge grin on my face even if nobody can see it because I'm alone, in my student room, at 2am and I'm too lazy to revise. I'm squealing on my bed, my face is tear-strained because I cried, and I feel very emotional. I swear, my heart swelled at least twice its size !
This is definitely one of my favorite chapters in fanfiction ever.
Let's go back in time to see what happened :
"The brain's tentacles were ripping him to shreds and reality was warping around him as an unsteady pulse echoed in his ears. Spiders the size of houses walked over him while their young devoured his limbs, leaving him unable to move. Powerful convulsions constricted his chest and air bellowed over his shredded lungs. All he could feel was pain, a tangible darkness, and the sensation of being drowned, but backwards?"
It feels so realistic. You got all the sensations of being in great pain yet being unable to move. I especially love "the unsteady beat in his ears". The spider anecdote makes me shudder. How awful !
"The only real thing he could think about, besides the pain, was her. What was her name again?"
Oh man, Hermione is on his mind and in his heart at all time, even in his darkest hour. She's the only thing that can take his mind off pain *eyes water*
The convulsions struck again and again. He longed to be able to lose himself in the darkness, but something kept tethering him to the unimaginable pain. He was drowning again, and his limbs were back, stiff as lead.
No no no my Ronnie is suffering so much he wants to black out, and what if the darkness meant death ? How come this is totally canon ? How come I enjoy this ?
If he could only say her name one time, maybe all of this would end? It almost seemed like an answer to a riddle. He just couldn't think what the riddle was or what the name was he should say. It was like trying to hold a fist full of sand, with each grain slipping through his fingers until he only had a few grains left.
Argh, my little Romione heart. Touché. He tries to hold on to her, the key to happiness, the light in the dark, the fire of comfort.
"How long was he—"
It's nothing really. A tiny sentence. But the fact that the person who said it was unable to finish it is just so perfect, so moving - as if the idea of Ron suffering was unthinkable. *eyes water again*
Why could he not control his body?
Oh god, I know this frustration. Your writing is so moving, you are able to convey so much feelings in the simplest sentences.
Ron did as he was told, even though the light was so bright he could feel it throbbing in time with his heartbeat. A loud ringing tone pulsed in his ears, high and sharp.
I can feel exactly what he is speaking about.
"Can I… Can I touch him?" his Mum ask Pomfrey, sounding teary.
Aaaaaaaah you got me again. The hesitation in her voice when she probably wants nothing more, when she probably craves to touch him... That's it, my vision is blurry, I need to take a tissue (fortunately there's a box on my bedside table)
Ron tried to form a word, any word, to say to his mother, but as soon as he could so much as rasp a coughing fit took him. It rattled and tore through him unlike any cough he'd ever had before. Dark red blood exploded from his lungs and splattered the matron's apron. His lungs rattled as cough after cough shook his chest and tore through his throat.
I just felt a pain in my heart. A pang. It's so heartwrenching to see him suffer like this.
Ron had to concentrate, but was able to barely wiggle them and they felt whole enough.
Oh Ron, how can you make me laugh in a moment like this ?
He tried to wipe the back of his arm across his mouth, but his arm just wouldn't move off the bed, lamely twitching at his side. A slimy trail of sputum and blood oozed out of his mouth, but Pomfrey wiped it away with a handkerchief.
All is in the details. I'm picturing Ron, unable to move, his eyes open and unfocus, a trail of blood flowing from his mouth that he can't even wipe and MY HEART CAN'T TAKE IT.
"We love you, sweet boy. We love you so much,"
Yes ! Give him love ! All the love ! I love you too Ron !
Ron began to panic as he tried again and again to make words. He couldn't. Tears came to his eyes and he started to breathe hard.
Nooo he can't speak my poor little Ronnie he must be so afraid and nooo he has tears in his eyes, my heart felt another pang why are you so good at this ?! That's it, I need a pause because I am actually crying. I am sniffing in my bed, tears have rolled off my cheeks and dampered the mattress. Damn you !
Ron tried desperately to say yes, but all that came out what a strange sound similar to the ghoul that lived in his attic. He tried to nod his head but it wouldn't do what he said and just barely moved to the wrong direction. What was wrong with him? He was trapped. Trapped in his own body unable to say or do anything!
I just want to hug you so much Ron. I can't but I really, really want to. That's one of the worst things in the world, being conscious but not being able to do anything.
"You are alright. What you are experiencing is temporary. You will be able to speak later. Maybe in a few hours. This is not permanent. The part of your brain that forms speech is injured, but will be healed - probably by the time you wake up tomorrow. You will regain movement in your body as well, but that might take longer before it's completely healed. Do you understand, Ron?"
You are such a good healer Mrs Pomfrey. And you need a raise.
"The bleeding will continue on and off again the next few days."
How come people think that the Bezoar erased every consequence possible of the poison ? Ron did not spend so much time in the infirmary for nothing !
"Hermione was here?" Ron asked, trying to sit up as quickly as he could. Instead his head rose off the pillow a few centimeters and he weakly collapsed back onto the bed. He gave another attempt to sit up, but the Matron of the hospital wing made it impossible to succeed.
He seems so surprised it is awful but so sweet. The fact that he tried to sit up twice pulled at my heartstrings.
"Did Hermione seem upset?" Ron blurted before realizing it was Pomfrey he was asking.
God the sweetheart somebody helps me !
Your heart stopped, and you weren't breathing for a few minutes, so it might take a bit for your memory to be back to normal.
HIS HEART STOPPED ! HE WAS NOT BREATHING ! OH MY FUCKING ALLMIGHTY GOD !
What happened? Why am I in the hospital? Who visited? Who poisoned me? Will I be ok? Was Hermione here? Where are everyone? Was Hermione upset? Is everyone else ok? Where's Harry? When can I leave? Will I be able to play quidditch? What potions do I have to take? Where is Hermione? Should there be all this blood? Are you sure this is normal? When will I be able to walk again? How am I going to the bathroom? Did anyone but my parents see me when I couldn't talk? When will I be able to sit up on my own? Why can't I use my hands? Do I still have to do my homework? Can't I drink more water than that? When can I eat? Can Hermione visit me again?
Oh. My. God. My heart swelled. I am once again crying thank you very much my bed is now full of dirty tissues. But like, this list is one of the sweetest and most heartbreaking things ever. I need to squeal. So I put my phone aside and do just that (which means rolling in my bed, laughing and probably looking like a maniac). "Did anyone but my parents see me when I couldn't talk ?". How perfectly insecuringly Ron that is (yes I invent words and no I don't care) ? "Is everybody else okay ?" . Man you just got poisoned, you are in unberable pain and you still ask for everybody else ? You're just so... so caring and I love you ! "Can Hermione visit me again ?" God the sweetest of sweethearts 2.
He coughed and felt some blood beginning to make its way down his throat. 
Somebody do something ! My little Ronnie ! Bad, bad Draco !
How could one person look so perfect and make him feel magically better?
He's so in loooove. That's why I love Romione : the raw love and painful need for each other.
 Well, better besides the feeling that he was choking on blood and couldn't fight off a possessed scrambled egg if he had to.
How dare you make me laugh again ? A possessed scrambled egg *snorts loudly*... I'm laughing through my watery eyes...
...he couldn't help but smile.
That's my sweetest of sweethearts Ron 3. He is in pain yet he smiles because the person he loves most is there and he's my little sun.
Last thing he wanted was the sight of bloody teeth sending Hermione away.
*snorts again* *then feels her heart pang again because it's an horribly sad piece of humor*
Ron could vaguely recall reading something about a poisoning, so nodded, hoping that would leave him alone with Hermione.
*shakes her head and smiles* That's so Ron. He just wants to be with the people he cares about.
"You're really here," Ron smiled hopefully. He thought he'd never have Hermione to himself again. She was biting her lip with worry, but she was there. She was beautiful, though a bit paler than usual. Was she in the hospital wing because she was injured? "How are you feeling?"
FOR F*CKS'S SAKE ! WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME ! SH*T ! I NEED ANOTHER TISSUE ! AND I AM NOT HALFWAY THROUGH THE CHAPTER ! P*tain de b*rdel de m*rde ! It is so incredibly perfect and moving and Romione-y. The fact that Ron does not believe his eyes that she cares for him, that he smiles hopefully, that he thinks he would never be with her again, the fact that Hermione is biting her lip but does not say anything, and the selflessness of Ron who as usual does not think about himself at all but worries about his loved ones even though he just got poisoned...
"Better, now that you're awake."
My Romione heart swelled again.
Her hand gently made its way into his, sending a thrill through him like the first time he'd ever ridden a broom. He tried to squeeze it hard back, partly to ground himself that this was real, and partly to let her know something of how happy he was to see her, but all he could manage was a limp clammy hold. She didn't say anything to him, simply putting another hand on top of his one weak one.
I am at a loss for words. I am just so emotional. This image of them together is exactly why I love Romione so much. It is very poignant and moving.
"So… I kind of lied. I don't entirely remember what's been going on… I just wanted to see you," Ron said quietly.
At this point I just want to cherish this chapter forever and I definitely need another box of tissues, so I stand up and go search it. It's the "quietly" that actually killed me : picturing Ron, searching Hermione's eyes, whispering this to her is so sweet.
"Oh shit! Please don't leave. I'm so glad you're here. It's fine… I can catch up on this crap later."
He is so emotionally open I just... Hermione, cherish this boy.
He honestly didn't care if he sounded pathetic or desperate. She was the one thing he could hold on to when time was bending, and he wasn't sure of what was real and not.
My Romione heart does not thank you for the emotional roller-coster.
"I'm not going anywhere,"
Aaaah Hermione you pulled at my heartstrings. No, not you too ! I have enough heart pangs with Ron thanks !
"Sorry I'm so stupid right now. I just can't seem to keep a hold of things in my mind for long."
There self-depreciating Ron goes again... Like, am I hallucinating, or is he actually apologizing for not being well after having been poisoned ?? #Rontheboywhoapologizesforeverything
"You're far from stupid," Hermione said with her trademark scowl, and he grinned at that. "You were nearly killed. You had anoxia, where your brain didn't get enough oxygen. It's literal brain damage."
Yes, Hermione ! Tell him he's great ! Prevent him from being self-depreciating ! I love it so much when people let their appreciation of him shine through ! And she's so cute when she gets so anxious and worried that she has to ramble about facts, explain things and expose her knowledge !
He almost laughed at being brain damaged, but tears began to pool in her eyes.
Again so perfectly Romione-y. Ron sees the funny side of things, or the sadly funny side of things when he gets self-depreciating, and Hermione cries because she saw all the implications.
If it weren't for magic you might not be able to remember anything ever again, or talk, or move, and could have been mentally infirm the rest of your life. It wouldn't have been temporary. You'd not be yourself and I just — I just can't stand the thought that-that someone as alive and as - as wonderful as you could ever be struck down and unable to be yourself and I was so so afraid I was going to lose you and the last things I ever said to you were-were horrible, and I just —"
Oh my Romione. And my eyes are watering again. She's so devastated at the idea of a tetraplegic or diminished Ron, and I am too, that's the wrongest thing ever in fanfiction; and she's using the world "alive" to describe Ron and that fits him so well, and she feels so guilty that's awful even if it pleases me a little (I hate it so much when in fanfiction Hermione "accepts" to forgive Ron for Lavender. 😒)
"Oh, Hermione, don't—" he said while weakly raising his arms as high as he could so she'd come into them. 
My HEART ! YOU STABBED ME ! I NEED A F*CKING TISSUE AGAIN HE'S SO CARING AND SWEET !
~ Squealing time interruption ~
Hermione needed facts and figures to comfort her. "Hey, according to this parchment, I'm going to be ok, right?"
He knows exactly what to say to makes her feel better and that's instinctive. That's my Ron and I love him.
She gave a great wet sniff and nodded, though she looked even paler than before.
They're so terribly cute together. Hug her Ron, my girl needs it badly !
He'd have to humiliate himself a bit to get her to laugh, but it would be worth it.
So you are once again going to be very self-sacrificing, okay Ron, but what are you talking about ? How could you...
"And apparently there are some spells in place, so we don't have to worry I'll wet myself in the bed, even though I'm so mentally infirm," he said with a conspiratorial grin.
*jaw drops, eyes water (my fucking god I really am a mess and I look like I just had a heartbreak but okay), heart swells with enough Ron-love to fill a swimming pool*
~ squealing time interruption ~
Okay, I'm extremely moved and that's for a very personal reason. I have had 16 general anaesthesias in my life, yet I have always refused, even when I was seven, to use bedpans to... you know, because I am so proud; I hate admitting weakness and that felt so degrading, even if it's totally normal; so for Ron to humiliate himself like that just to make Hermione laugh is quite extraordinary and extremely selfless. I would never have done that.
End of part 1
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uci-fanfic-requests · 7 years
Note
Oh, how about some urban fantasy au? Like they're all humans just living their lives, but in meanwhile they have to deal with evil spirits, mad youkais and ghosts of dead people. Also thank you for your hardwork! Your fanfictions are great!
Admin Notes: So that’s what those genre are called! I’ve always wondered! I’ve been calling them “normal life except there are youkai” AUs. Thank you for your support, I really like this! Okay! Time for a human Kirishima to cause some havoc! –Admin Hirahara
Kirishima mindlessly looked out into the hallways, conveniently seated right by the wall of his classroom. Obviously, nothing of interest was happening (everyone was in class or ditching somewhere they couldn’t be caught), but it was better than listening to the teacher drown on, and on, and on, about history. Not that he didn’t like history or anything, it was just… He was learning it through different means.
“…shima!” He heard his name shouted from the front of the room, and he quickly swung his head around. The teacher – a tall woman with blue hair and serious features – was glaring at him. He straightened himself up, wondering if he’d been called to answer a question which he hadn’t been paying attention to at all. “Since you seem very focused, why don’t you tell us why the god cutter sword was forged?”
At least, Kirishima sighed, he knew the answer to this. “Kanakiri was forged as an omamori to protect the Inari shrine from evil spirits that lingered since the Heian era.” He explained, trying to remember what he was told. “Ever since, it’s been sealed away under the Gokuto shrine.” The teacher nodded her head slowly, thinking that perhaps, Kirishimahad been paying attention.
“That’s correct,” she said, turning back to the board. “As you all know, with the current beliefs in Japan, it hasn’t been necessary to act on superstitions like this…” Kirishima went back to staring at the hall. His teacher, he had wanted to say, was only half right. A few months ago, the azure eyed boy had the misfortune of stumbling upon the storage of said Gokuto shrine, where he had seen Kanakiri for himself. He’d broken the seal somehow, on accident, and in turn, released a lot of other malevolent things back into Kyoto.
After that, he found himself in possession of Kanakiri, bestowed to him by the ghostly guardian with red eyes.You have to catch all the things that were sealed away. All while still attending school, completing his duties as the kendo captain, and helping his mother around the house. At this point,something was going to be lacking.
His last class drew to an end, and kendo club went as usual. He and the vice captain, the ever strong willed Tanizaki, had their usual match, which Kirishima won, of course, and he helped some of the newer members adjust to their equipment. He wasn’t finished for a very long time, so he didn’t actually expect to see his friends waiting for him at the front gate.
“Kirishima!” The light haired Saeki waved, stepping away from the other boy. “My piano lessons finished late, so I thought I’d wait for you.” Kirishima nodded, glad to get to walk home with someone else. Hirahara, the other boy, saw Kirishima then, and jumped over to throw his arm around the shorter boy’s shoulder.
“Ki-ri-shi-ma!” He chimed. “You’re club runs way too late.”
“You don’t do any clubs,” Kirishima stated. “What are you still doing here?”
“I got detention,” Hirahara smiled, like it wasn’t a big deal. “I had to stay for after school study.” They continued talking as they walked away from the school, starting their way home.
“Did you hear?” Saeki added, once the boys were getting close to a crossroads. “There’s some sort of bear wandering around this area.”
“A bear?” Kirishima asked, thinking it was impossible. They were pretty deep in the urban city; no where close to a forest or anything.
“I heard it was a beast of some kind,” Hirahara corrected. “Some old world thing that eats people!”
“Wah, scary…” Saeki frowned. “It must be a bear, Hirahara.”
“You never know,” the golden eyed boy smiled. “All sorts of weird things have been happening, right Kirishima?” Kirishima did his best to pretend he had no idea what Hirahara was talking about. Still, he wished the two a safe trip home when they split up. He continued up the hill to his small house on his own, thinking about what chores he’d have to do when he got home.
He wasn’t paying too much attention to the things around him, so he didn’t realize that the street lights hadn’t turned on at all on his street alone. Something was lurking in the shadows, slowly following the boy. “…have to sweep, for sure,” Kirishima was muttering to himself, wondering how much homework he could get away with not doing. Maybe he could sacrifice sleep.
“…Lone boy…” Kirishima stopped when he heard a low hiss, too close for comfort. He turned around, but there was nothing behind him. Not that he could see, anyways. It was surprisingly dark, and now he was starting to realize the lights weren’t on. “Poor… lonely boy…” From the darkness, a pale hand shot out, surprising Kirishima. He jumped back, looking hard for the body.
“Who’s there?” He asked, throwing his bag aside. “Show yourself.” There was the sound of hissing, like someone had a hard time breathing. Kirishima clicked his tongue, regretting leaving Kanakiri in his bedroom. Weapons weren’t allowed at school, and really, there were only two of three times he excused bringing in the sword for “kendo practice”.
“Lonely boy…” the voice came again, and a figure of a woman with hair over her face stepped out of the shadows. Her smile was curled in such a way that it made her cheeks look extra stretched. “Come… come to me…” Kirishima shook his head, thinking he could outrun her easily. He couldn’t risk bringing it to his house, though, so he wasn’t sure where he was supposed to run. He could try to lose it in the street, and then make a break home, grab Kanakiri, and come back to finish the job.
With that plan in mind, he slowly backed up the hill, ready to run in a split second. The ghoul looking woman continued to sway towards him, her arms in front of him like she was ushering him to her grasp. “Come, come here.” She kept singing. In two more steps, Kirishima took off. He turned on his heel, blasting as fast as he could through the streets. He heard a roar, thinking he definitely pissed off the spirit by fleeing. He didn’t turn back, thinking that if he looked, he’d slow down.
He regretted not checking to see how fast this woman was. Something gripped his leg, and he went down, hard. Kirishima flipped around, only to realize the woman was practically on top of him. “Bad…” she muttered, staring blankly into Kirishima’s eyes. “…Should have come…” She raised her hand, ready to strike him down when-
“Seal,” Kirishima heard just behind the woman, and at the words, the woman let out a shrill shriek, stumbling off. Kirishima quickly got up, scooting away. A lazy looking boy with amber eyes was standing there, a talisman in his hand. “Kinoshita, she’s all yours.”
“Thanks, Tagami!” Another voice called, making Kirishima turn back. On a rooftop of the house right next to Kirishima, a boy stood with a long staff in his hands. “Spirits like you should take a moment to repent,” he said jumping down with the staff over his head. “Otherwise, you’ll just return to… Hell!” With that, he stabbed the spirit right through the chest, gaining another scream before the girl slowly disappear.
“…?” Kirishima blinked, looking over the two new people. They seemed older than he was, and they were certainly not dressed in typical clothes. “Who…?” He asked, wanting to thank them.
“Kid, you make our lives hard,” the one that was probably named Tagami groaned.
“Excuse… me?” Kirishima frowned, having no idea where that came from. The taller boy, Kinoshita, made a ‘now, now’ hand gesture, and Tagami clicked his tongue and turned away.
“Sorry about him,” he smiled at Kirishima. “We’re from the Gokuto shrine. I’m Kinoshita, and that’s Tagami.” He pointed at the other man, who looked like he was looking for a place to nap. “You’re… the boy who took Kanakiri, right?”
“You… know?” Kirishima asked, this being the first time he’d ever actually met anyone from the shrine he’d gotten his sword from. “Wait. Youknow?” He emphasized, realizing that he was probably in serious trouble for letting loose a whole wave of evil spirits.
“Saitou told us,” Tagami rolled his eyes. “He said Rokkaku’s spirit was sturring, and when we went to check, the sword was gone.” Kirishima only knew Rokkaku’s name, since he’d been the one who sent him to carry Kanakiri on a quest to undo his own mistake. Saitou… Must be the one in charge at the Gokuto shrine, he thought.
“We’re exorcist,” Kinoshita added. “It’s our job to keep youkai and evil spirits away from humans.”
“Did you want me to… return the sword?” Kirishima asked, not sure what they wanted from him. “I can, if you want.”
“No, it doesn’t really work that way,” Kinoshita shook his head. “Kanakiri’s only going to listen to the person who drew him.”So… I’m stuck with it, Kirishima wanted to correct. “We’d like you to come help us out at the shrine,” Kinoshita confessed. “So that we can quickly capture all these spirits that have appeared.”
Kirishima thought about it, but felt like he was already so busy. It was already late, his mom was probably expecting him, and he had to do his work. Tagami seemed to notice how much he was hesitating, so he rolled his eyes, giving another suggestion. “Just in your free time.” He offered. “You do whatever kids do, and just stop by the shrine to see if we need you for something.”
“Well,” Kirishima thought, debating his options out. It might be nice to have some help anyways, since he was having to deal with ghosts anyways. “I guess… it would be nice to work together.” With a smile, Kinoshita stretched out his hand, offering it to seal the deal. Kirishima shook it, deciding to trust these two people.
“Welcome aboard,” Kinoshtia smiled, letting go. “I hope we all get along.”
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caranfindel · 5 years
Text
Recap/review 14.05: “Nightmare Logic”
THEN: Maggie. Lucifer brings her back to life but she's not okay. Maybe Jack can help us stop all the evil in the world. But then what would we do? Michael is making super monsters. The hunted become the hunters.
NOW: Maggie? Are they really still trying to make me care about Maggie? {sigh} Fine. Maggie is on a hunt, all on her own, in Claremore, Oklahoma, which she calls "delightful" but I'm pretty sure she's being sarcastic. She's in what looks like a mausoleum, hunting what she thinks is a ghoul, and we know all this because she took a camera out of her bag and started talking to it. She's wearing light pink pants that are gonna show ALL THE BLOOD, so you can tell she's still a newbie. And then the ghoul gets her. Bye, Maggie?
Title card!
Bunker. Sam seems to be leading a small hunting class. He wraps it up quickly when Dean comes in, and it seems like he still feels uneasy being a leader when Dean's around. Which makes sense. Dean's been the leader all of Sam's life. For his part, Dean actually seems to enjoy watching Sam in this new role, although he's a little sarcastic about things like hunter check-ins ("that's adorable!"). He asks Sam if he's getting any sleep, and we know the answer is "no" because Sam doesn't really answer. He's got 16 hunters on case, not including Cas and Jack (who are in Sarasota) or Mobby (who are in Texas.) You know, I'm okay with Cas being gone, but I'm not okay with him taking Jack with him. Just saying.
Dean thinks the new people don't need this much help, since they all survived a war, but Sam explains that a war is not hunting. Which begs the question, why are they all hunting anyway? Sam's right - the angel war wouldn't really prepare them for hunting monsters. So why are they doing it? Just because they live in the bunker now, so they have to be hunters? Is that why Maggie's out there in her damn pink pants trying not to get killed again?
As Sam's talking, he gets a notification that Maggie missed check-in. Ruh roh! {Sidebar: Seems like having to call in at a pre-scheduled time would be really inconvenient for hunting, so I've decided this just means she has to check in at least once every 24 hours.} Next we see the guys in the library, with Dean calling Maggie and not getting an answer as Sam works on the laptop. He has pulled up footage from Maggie's bodycam, which surprises Dean and me, but Sam says having the new hunters watch each other hunt is the best way to learn. You know, I'm thrilled with Sam's little vocational training program here, but I think the best way to learn would be to send the newbies out with experienced hunters, instead of sending them on their own and putting bodycams on them so everyone else can watch them die. But what do I know?
Sam says the bodycams upload directly to the server, so I guess Maggie had wifi in a mausoleum somewhere in delightful Claremore, Oklahoma. Of course, if Sam provided them, they'll have wifi everywhere, so let's not concern ourselves with minor details. They watch the ghoul from Maggie's POV, and Sam's clearly upset and afraid she's dead. Dean points that she might be okay, because 1) they didn't see her die, and b) ghouls are scavengers that don't normally feed on the living. Sam says "Yeah, but remember the ones that killed and ate Adam and his mom? And were eating me alive before you killed them?" No, he doesn't say that. But he should. Someone should. Instead he just asks why a ghoul would attack her. Because it's a monster, Sam.
(Hey, remember when Sam was tied to the table and the ghouls were eating him? That was a good episode.)
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But this one has several good points too, including the fact that Sam looks like he might be growing the beard again. (I know he's not. Let me dream.)
Cut to a nice transition video of the Impala zooming down the road, and then the brothers in the cemetery where Maggie was last seen. Dean comments that a private cemetery must be nice, because it would be convenient. Yeah, when you die as often as these two, a cemetery in the back yard would be handy. On the other hand, they're usually not buried, so. Maggie was working this cemetery in the first place because some kids said online that a walker tried to end them. Sam then tries to mansplain (Samsplain?) walkers to Dean, who is very aware of what they are.
They enter the mausoleum and go down a flight of stairs. Damn, this thing is big. I've seen little mausoleums in cemeteries before, but nothing like this. They find drag marks on the floor. "But no blood," Dean says, "which means Maggie could still be alive." But those pink pants are gonna be really dirty.
(Hey, remember the last time Dean and Sam and Maggie were in a dark underground place, and someone got attacked and dragged away? That was a good episode.)
(Are you really doing this again? We get it. The show repeats itself and has frequent subtle and less-sutble references to older, better episodes. Can you stop now?)
(Fine. Geez.)
Sam doesn't think that's likely, because "ghouls don't take prisoners." I mean, I guess Sam wasn't technically a prisoner when he was tied to a table, but he does at least have to acknowledge that they won't necessarily eat you quickly. Dean's being oddly optimistic, saying that it might have taken her elsewhere to eat her, and maybe "hasn't finished the job yet." So, maybe only her arms and legs have been eaten? Well, that's encouraging. They're interrupted by a groundskeeper, so Sam introduces them as Harrison and Byrne (Talking Heads, so that had to be Sam's choice, not Dean's) from the Historical Preservation Society, sent by the city who wants to make the property a historic site. Oh, and can they speak to the owner?
When we get a view of the house, it's overgrown by weeds and out-of-control shrubs, so I think that groundskeeper needs to concentrate more on his gardening and less on who might be lurking in the convenient private cemetery. The somewhat geeky owner is very excited, saying he always knew this house had historical significance. He invites them in, but is surprised to see them, since it seems like the two who are already there should be enough. Whaaa? They walk into the living room to see the other two "historical preservationists" - Mary and Bobby.
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And Bobby is wearing Michael's hat! RUN, BOYS, RUN!
Sam pointedly says he wishes they'd checked with "the main office" before coming all the way out here. {Sidebar: You know, the Show plays fast and loose with geography on a regular basis, but I like that Sam and Dean came from down Kansas and Mary and Bobby came up from Texas and they met in Oklahoma in a completely plausible timeline.} Bobby says they don't need permission from the main office to look at houses, "especially when the main office is run by a bunch of idjits."
OH WHAT THE HELL FAKE BOBBY! WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? I WILL NOT STAND FOR THIS.
Mary pulls Sam away for a private talk while Dean questions the owner, Neil. But it turns out he's not actually the owner, he's only the nurse the owner, Mr. Rawling. Meanwhile, Mary explains to Sam that she and Bobby had been talking Maggie through her hunt, giving her pointers. (Gee, maybe you shouldn't have sent her off alone, Sam.) When she stopped texting, they got worried and came to check on her. Sam asks if they found anything, but before she can answer, Dean calls Sam into Mr. Rawling's room. He's unconscious, in a hospital bed, and they both agree that he looks exactly like the ghoul they saw on Maggie's video. (Which is odd, but what's even odder is that Mr. Rawling is getting a blood transfusion. Why?) If the ghoul is here, they wonder, where's Maggie?
Cut to Maggie, alive and conscious somewhere. She's strung up by her wrists and surrounded by blood bags. Hmmm. Looks more like a djinn to me.
Back at the house, Neil explains that Rawling had a stroke. Just then, Rawling's daughter Sasha shows up. She is considerably less excited to hear that the National Historic Preservation Society is interested in the house. She doesn't even know how long her father has lived here, and she's just here to wrap things up before he dies. She says it's been "a really long week," so I guess the stroke happened recently. And I'm pretty sure old Rawlings would still be in the hospital if his stroke was that recent, so put another check in the "odd" column. Sam does his best empathetic face, but she doesn't want to deal with the National Historic Preservation Society right now and asks them to leave.
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Have you ever noticed that when Jared narrows his eyes a little bit, it emphasizes their tilt? Because I have.
The team regroups at the Impala. On the one hand, I like them working on their hypotheses and eliminating monsters based on their extensive knowledge. On the other hand, none of their extensive knowledge seems to have much basis in canon. First Bobby declares Rawlings "not a ghoul" because he "checked him out pretty good back there" and didn't find any bites. So I guess you stripped the old guy down under Neil's watchful eye, Fake Bobby? I don't think so. Mary suggests a shifter, but Dean says shifters don't hang out in graveyards. Sam suggests possession, which Nasty Fake Bobby dismisses because a demon wouldn't have put him back in bed after using his body, and he sprinkled him with holy water anyway. Dean calls him on his even-grumpier-than-usualness...
Something on your mind, Bobby?
Yeah. Your brother. He let Maggie come here when she had no idea what she was walking into. She wasn't ready.
Oh, come on. When is anybody ever ready?
You are or you ain't. A real leader would have seen that a mile away.
Well, okay then! Clearly I was at fault for accepting AU Bobby so quickly. He's not our Bobby at all. He's not just adorably surly, he's mean. And he's wearing that hat. And now I'm seriously starting to wonder if this is really even Fake Bobby. Did he pick that hat up at the church, after Dean took it off? Is that when Michael made him his vessel? Is Michael that attached to the damn hat? Is the hat a possessed object? Something evil is afoot, and THE HAT IS PART OF IT. I'M SURE.
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This is a pretty scene, but my favorite part is Dean's "why are you being mean to my Sammy, old man?" face.
Mary smacks Fake Bobby back down, and then says they should split up. She takes Sam. Aw, this is twice that she's pulled Sam aside to take care of him. I like anyone taking care of Sammy. As she and Sam walk, she tells him not to listen to Bobby, but Sam wonders if he's right about everything. She says no, he's born to do this, and he could respond with "Actually, the only thing I was born to do was to be Lucifer's vessel," but he doesn't.
Mary continues, saying that if Bobby can't see what a natural born leader and generally awesome human being Sam is, it's not the only thing he's missing. Oh god, is she talking about what I think she's talking about? Do I even want to KNOW what Bobby is missing? Sam thinks the same thing, and segues into a talk about their relationship. Mary says that ever since they've been back (from AU Land, I guess), Bobby hunts all the time. "He won't take a break, not even for s-" and I swear to Chuck I thought she was going to say for sex, but she says "for a second." And then they have this exchange:
Bobby's not open like your dad.
Wait. Like MY dad?
Okay, at least he's not like your dad was when I knew him.
Oh my Chuck, Mary and Sam are talking about John. Poor Sam, who wasn't even allowed to talk about his mother for most of his life, now gets to talk TO her. About his father. Someone hold me. It's also funny and sad that the John he knew is so, so different from the John she knew. And now I'm imagining drunk Sam and Dean telling stories about their childhood, and Mary being absolutely horrified.
Anyway. Mary says Bobby has "walls" and she doesn't know if she can handle that, "if I even put myself out there again." Oh, wait, so she wasn't out there? So she and Bobby aren't actually in a relationship? They're just flirting and making googoo eyes and hunting together? Huh.
Sam makes an uncomfortable face, and she realizes he's not the best audience for this discussion, and it's all very weird and sweet. I'm going to stick with Mary and Sam rather than going back and forth like they do in the episode. Sam tells her that "our Bobby" wasn't very open either, at least not at first, and that he had to kill his wife and they had no kids. And Fake Bobby's walls are probably there for a good (bad) reason. Oh, Sam. You know about walls and reasons, don't you? He suggests that, if she cares about him, she won't give up on Bobby and his walls. Then they see something that looks like a pile of cloth. It's a jacket or something, and it comes with a pile of IDs - FBI, DEA, Forest Service. Must be a hunter!
Meanwhile, Bobby and Dean are having this talk:
You think I was too hard on your brother back there.
He's doing his best. He's doing better than his best. This whole hunter 5-0 thing, he's killing himself over it. He doesn't eat, he doesn't sleep, he grew himself one of those Kenny Rogers beards... no offense.
How much do I love Dean standing up for Sam, noticing everything he's doing? SO MUCH. I mean, I'm sure part of it is the classic "no one gets to talk smack about my little brother except me," but part of it is that he really is proud of Sam and what he's doing. And really is worried about him.
Dean and Fake Bobby come up on an old shed and open the door. It seems to be full of pelts. Dean goes inside, but Bobby sees a man in the woods and runs off toward him. Without saying anything to Dean. Dammit, Fake Bobby. Dean finds a body. Must be a dead hunter! He turns toward Bobby, just now realizing he's been left alone, and then something attacks him from behind. It's the old man Rawling ghoul! Dean grabs something off the windowsill, I can't tell what, and stabs the ghoul with it. The ghoul dissolves into dust. Huh. Weird. Bobby returns to find Dean covered in ghoul dust.
Back at the house, Sasha is going over some paperwork when she hears noises that seem to be coming from upstairs. She goes up and wanders down an oddly angular hallway. She opens a super-squeaky door and a vampire leaps out. On first watch, I only noticed the teeth, but on rewatch, it's one of the AU-style vampires, with the big pointy ears. She flees and falls {Sidebar: At this point, The Husband asked why women are always falling when they run away from monsters; I said it's the high heels} but as she cowers on the floor and awaits her doom, she realizes nothing is after her. The vampire is gone.
Sam and Mary are back at the Rawling house, and while it was bright daylight when they were wandering around and Sasha was being attacked, it's dark now. She explains that whatever she saw couldn't have been real, because it looked like a vampire, and Sam tells her she's not crazy. She gets the "monsters are real" speech, and Neil is more disappointed that they're not from the Historical Society than he is to learn that monsters are real. Then Dean shows up.
You're not gonna believe what I found in the shed.
You hunt monsters!
Oh, good. You told them.
What did you find in the shed?
Dead guy.
Hee! This little scene just cracks me up. Dead Guy matches the fake IDs, and Sam tells Dean they think something is killing hunters. Mary notices Bobby's gone, and Dean says he went to get something out of the truck. Alone??? She runs out after him. Dean tells Sam about Ghoul!Rawling attacking him, and Sasha's all, "he's right there," and Dean turns toward Rawling but all we can see is the foot of his bed, so I'm fairly sure it's going to turn out he's not right there after all. (Spoiler alert: I'm wrong.) Sam tells Dean about the vampire, but since the vampire didn't feed on Sasha, and the Ghoul!Rawling "died weird," Sam suggests maybe these aren't monsters at all (relieved sigh from Neil) but some kind of manifestation (not-relieved, confused looks from Neil and Sasha) like B.J. Hunnicut Fred Jones, who made all the Looney Tunes violence.
(Hey, remember when Fred Jones made the Looney Tunes violence, and Dean's gun had a flag that said BANG? That was awesome.)
(I can't help it, guys, the Show is feeding them directly to me!!!)
Sasha assures them her father is narcissistic but not psychic, and Dean wonders why he would manifest a vampire to scare his own daughter. Well, I mean, sounds like he was a bad father, so. When Sasha tells them what happened, Dean notices that she was scared away from what she was investigating, which is probably the reason the vampire was... manifested. Sam volunteers to go upstairs and investigate. Dean hands him a machete.
Downstairs, Dean sharpens another machete while Sasha downs some pills, and I know how you feel, Sasha. I've felt like cracking open the Xanax this week myself. She vents about her father and reveals that, because he was gone all the time, she was the one who found her mother after she (I assume) killed herself. "You what the most ridiculous part is?" she says. "I worshipped him when I was a kid. Didn't know any better. He's the only family I have left." Oh, gee, who else in this room can relate to that? Dean offers her some advice, which is to let it go. "The past is... nothing you can do about it now, so. It's just baggage. Let it go, you'll feel a lot lighter." She asks if that's what he does, and he says "I try. Every single day." Oh Dean!
Upstairs, Sam walks carefully down the oddly angular hallway (really, it makes NO SENSE) and opens the door Sasha had been peeking through. It's access to the attic. Sam peers around with his flashlight find finds old toys and a spooky taxidermied animal and blood bags and Maggie, strung up like the victim of a djinn. He pulls a needle from her neck and she wakes up, saying "it's here." There's a growl behind Sam and then the AU vampire attacks. {Sidebar: I wonder what kind of PTSD flashbacks Sam's going to have the next time he tries to go to sleep?} Sam hits it with the machete and it explodes into a cloud of dust, just like Dean's ghoul.
While all of this is happening, Mary goes outside and finds Bobby isn't at his truck. We see him walking in the dark, and then the man he ran after earlier comes out from behind a tree. His eyes are burned out.
Daniel?
Hey, Dad.
OH SNAP.
Bobby is shocked to see him, since apparently he died in AU Land. He kicks the crap out of Fake Bobby and then pins him to a tree with an angel blade through the shoulder, even though he doesn't stab him nearly hard enough to go through the tree, and even though Bobby remains completely level instead of hanging from that point. Mary shows up and Bobby yells at her to run. She shoots Dead!Daniel instead, but bullets don't do anything. As Dead!Daniel chokes Mary, Bobby pulls the angel blade out and falls down from the tree. He says "I'm sorry" and stabs Dead!Daniel with the angel blade, which causes him to explode into a cloud of dust.
Downstairs, Dean and Sasha go into Rawling's room, where Neil is fiddling with something. Dean finally asks what I've been asking the whole time, which is, why is the old man getting a blood transfusion? Neil says it keeps up his iron. Dean gives him a funny look and then asks Sasha to go make him a sandwich. She's all, what, seriously? He mouths go and flicks his eyes at Neil and she finally gets it and she's all, yes, that sounds like a great idea, I will go make you a sandwich.
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He's so not subtle at all. I love him.
Dean pulls his gun and says he recognizes the rig now, from when he was hooked up to it. "You're not giving him blood. You're taking it." We see a flashback from "What Is and What Should Never Be," with Dean strung up in the djinn's warehouse.
(HEY! REMEMBER WHEN DEAN WAS CAPTURED BY A DJINN AND HAD THAT WHOLE DREAM LIFE? THAT WAS AMAZING.)
{Sidebar: The thing is, this would never work. The blood bag is hanging above Rawling's head. If you've ever given blood, you know the collection bag is hung below the needle. Your blood's not going to flow upstream. Gravity, people.}
"You're a djinn," Dean says. "But you knew that already, didn't you?" says Neil, as his eyes flash blue and his tattoos briefly appear. Dean asks why he's going after hunters, and he says "Because you told me to! Is this still part of the game?" Um, whaaa? Neil thinks Dean is Michael. The Michael who told him to set up a trap for hunters. He thought this was just a test. The new power Michael gave him is the ability to read minds and see nightmares just by touching his victim. And he can bring those nightmares into the world and make them do whatever he wants. Rawling's nightmare was dying alone in this house, and Neil is making it come true. Maggie's nightmares were the AU vampires. Ah, that explains why the monsters disintegrated - they weren't real. And it also explains why the AU vampires were over here. They came from Maggie's head.
Dean is still threatening Neil with the gun, and Neil says it won't kill him, and he's pretty sure Dean doesn't have a knife dipped in lamb's blood. (Silver, Neil, it has to be silver.) Dean does what I always wish they'd do in a "your mere gun won't kill me" situation, and shoots him in the knee, cause it's gotta slow him down, right? But it doesn't actually slow him much. He lunges for Dean and says he won't hurt "Michael's favorite monkey suit," but he does want to see his nightmares. He smacks a hand on Dean's forehead and is horrified. Neil backs away and says "you... you..." and then Dean says "I don't have a blade dipped in lamb's blood, but I can improvise," and smashes Neil's skull with a bookend. Okay, but. If that would work, why would you need a silver knife dipped in lamb's blood? Isn't it a lot easier to destroy the head?
It does work, but Neil has some evil plot to reveal before he dies. "You think I'm the only one? The only trap? He made dozens of us. Just out there, waiting for you, and your family." Dean shuts him up with the bookend, and then unloads his gun into him for good measure.
So, let's talk about this. What did the djinn see? I mean, Dean's been to Hell. His nightmares are pretty awful. Was that it? Or was it something else? Something, someone, maybe, hiding deep inside?
Aftermath! Dean pulls the needle out of Rawling's arm. It's daylight now, so I wonder why he waited for the sun to come up before ending the poor old guy's misery. He tells Sasha that he'll come back around after the djinn's poison wears off.
Back to the bunker, which is full of refugee hunters. Everybody joyfully greets Maggie and her dirty pink pants. "You did this," Dean tells Sam. "You got her home." Sam smiles, but it's quick and kind of sad.
Elsewhere in the bunker, Mary is bandaging Bobby. He tells her that he was a hunter in AU Land because his wife was killed by a monster, and then his son Daniel was taken by angels because Bobby got him involved in the angel war. He feels guilty about it, but it's not like the kid would have been safe even if he hadn't been fighting. Bobby always thought he'd die in the war, but he didn't (does that mean he considers the war over? he's never going back? because there's still a bunch of angels over there), and now he's "considering other options." So the constant hunting has been a way of trying to get killed. Nice of you to drag Mary into that, Fake Bobby. She tells him she's not letting him give up, and they'll find another way to live.
Sam's reading at the map table (wearing that magnificent red plaid shirt) when Dean comes in with a couple of beers. He says he talked to Maggie and she "can't wait to get back in the saddle." Sam's surprised to hear it, and I'm surprised to hear that Dean was the one to have this conversation with Maggie. How close do you suppose they are? Because really, the most time they've spent together was the long walk to Dayton after Sam was killed, and I can't imagine Dean was a pleasant companion. I'd think she'd be terrified of him at this point. Anyway. Dean says "she learned from the best," and again, Dean noticing and commenting on Sam's actions just makes me melt into a happy little puddle.
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Sam's red plaid shirt also makes me melt into a happy little puddle.
Bobby and Mary come in and say "we need to talk," and the next thing we see is Sam arranging for them to stay at Donna's cabin. Which OF COURSE has a garden gnome. Bobby calls Sam aside and Sam is SO NERVOUS to be talking to him alone, and dammit, Jared, you break my heart on a regular basis. Bobby says "this job is no picnic, and I don't know if I ever really had it in me, but you do." You know, I think it's great that people are acknowledging what a good hunter and leader Sam is. But I just can't forget how much he didn't want to do this. I know he's accepted it now, and he claims to love it, but when someone tells him he's good at it, his smile is too tentative, too fleeting. I'm probably reading too much into it, but to me it says "Yeah, I'm good at the one thing I tried to get out of doing, yay me."
Mary and Dean say their goodbyes, and he actually seems to be okay with it this time. We do get the sad piano music, so we know it's significant. But the door slams shut and Sam doesn't flinch, so all is well.
(Hey, remember that time Mary slammed the door and Sam flinched? I loved that.)
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Bye, Mommy! Bye, New Daddy!
Next we see the guys calling every hunter they know, warning them about super monsters. "Use the buddy system," Sam insists. Dean feels guilty about the whole thing, and says he knows it's not his fault, and he's trying to move on from "what I - what we - what he did," so it doesn't sound like he's moved on much at all. Sam says they'll work harder.
How, Sam? You get three hours of sleep a night.
Then I'll sleep two.
Oh Sam! I love his "I will do anything you need, even if it kills me" determination. He insists they'll find Michael and kill him, and Dean asks how. Sam brings up Monster!Kaia's spear again, and WHAT ABOUT THE FREAKING ARCHANGEL BLADE???? WHY HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN IT????? But the scene ends with Dean sadly walking away (something else I love? Dean's "I'm gonna pretend I believe you can fix this but I know you can't" expression) and Sam sadly biting his lip and oh, so much sad.
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So much pretty, pretty sadness.
So! A little bit of nonsense, but mostly a pretty decent episode. I do wonder why they brought up Jack's powers, and the possibility of "ending all of this," in the THEN, since it wasn't addressed at all. But we got Chief Sam getting the respect he deserves. Some nice brotherly stuff. But most importantly, this episode made me realize that if monsters are the Big Bads this season, that means mytharc episodes can also be MOTW episodes. Praise Chuck. This could turn out to be a pretty decent season after all.
Please help me stay unspoiled, thanks!
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