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guqin-and-flute · 4 years ago

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Modern 3zun/A-Fu Verse--Baby Acquisition Continuation

[Part 1] [Modern A-Fu Verse] [AO3 Series]

[Crediting @little-smartass with a lot of the characterization/story beats because I’m positive we’ve had a conversation about this at some point]

“He really is as bald as a little cue ball, isn’t he?”

It took Meng Yao several seconds to register that words had been spoken, another to parse the words, then another to tear his gaze up from the pile of early childhood development books he was accumulating in his lap, color coded tabs bristling from the edges. Da-ge was sprawled in the corner of their enormous sage green couch in his slacks and undershirt, bathed in the ghostly, swimming glow of the TV on mute. He was looking down fondly at the newborn tucked into the crook of his arm, fast asleep with his fist shoved up against his face.

A newborn that was, in fact, very bald. And so very tiny.

“Is that normal? Is that a sign of something?” Meng Yao began to anxiously dig around in the plush crevices of the armchair he was folded into for his phone, preparing to search something along the lines of ‘is baby baldness bad??’

On the other half of the L of the couch from Mingjue, Xichen sucked in a shuddering breath through his nose, making them both freeze and look over. But all he did was sigh in his sleep and return to his motionless sprawl where he had collapsed about an hour and a half ago when Mingjue forcibly removed the baby from his arms and insisted he lay down. “Just for 5 minutes,” Meng Yao had also reasoned in a two pronged attack. “No one says you have to nap. Just close your eyes for a bit, then you can take him again while Da-ge makes dinner, if you want.”

Of course, he had fallen asleep immediately as they all had known he would. But one had to give Xichen explicit permission and then a backup compromise and then incentive before he considered doing something so selfish as making sure he wasn’t dead on his feet, even after a day of running errands with an 7 day old who was still suffering from stomach upset from travel. Meng Yao and Mingjue were long since practiced in being able to maneuver around his particular aversion of self care.

When their eyes met again, Mingjue’s were crinkled and he teased in a lower voice, “Being bald is a sign of being an infant, A-Yao. You really know nothing about babies, do you?”

Meng Yao aggressively squashed back the automatic bridling that happened every time a flaw in his...anything was pointed out. Instead, he primly brandished a pastel yellow book with curlicue flowers around the edge. “I am learning.” It’s not my fault I obtained all my siblings after adolescence. Not for lack of trying...

“I’m telling you, most of those are gonna be useless. Everyone’s got something to say and it’s all going to be different. You’re better off just winging it,” Mingjue stage whispered dismissively, rolling his eyes. “It’s just until Xichen’s uncle gets the custody stuff all worked out, so he’ll be gone before you know it. Just enjoy the baby-head smell while he’s here.”

The what? He narrowed his eyes at him. “You’re making fun of me.”

For some reason, a grin spread over Da-ge’s face--a delighted, self satisfied grin. “Oh.” He got up--(”Don’t wake him up--” Meng Yao hissed, stiffening, remembering his disconcerting little mewling cries from Xichen’s return from the store)--and easily cupped the infant up to his shoulder as he crossed the thick cream carpeting.

“Make room, come on,” Mingjue whispered, grabbing a stack of books in one large hand and carelessly tossing them onto the basket of neatly folded throw blankets beside the armchair.

Lips pursed and fully harassed, now, Meng Yao neatly piled the remaining books down by the leg of the chair. “Why do you insist--” When he sat back up, he immediately almost fumbled the armful of baby that was thrust into them. But Mingjue seemed to have been ready for this, because he just kept pressing him into his chest until Meng Yao’s hold came up automatically to support him.

The baby was warm and very soft, with no tension in him at all as he slept. And so light--almost like some sort of doll. It was hard to believe he was a real, living human being instead of some sort of strange hairless animal. Baxia had more heft, for god’s sake and she was a cat.

For some reason, Meng Yao’s heart rate immediately spiked as if he were being chased. His palms and neck began to sweat. It’s not like he hadn’t held the child in the day that he had been here, he just...well, he actually hadn’t. He hadn’t held any child before--his nephew wasn’t quite born yet and he had never been in a foster home with a baby. All yesterday and last night, he had shadowed Mingjue while he changed the diapers, observing techniques such as ‘The Turkey Hold’ and ‘Tissues Before Wet Wipes’. He had noted the ease with which Xichen just palmed him belly down like a fragile little football while packing the lunches Mingjue had assembled for him and Meng Yao to take to work, or patiently maneuvered his little sausage limbs in and out of clothes like he wasn’t afraid of breaking him.

And they certainly weren’t keeping him from Meng Yao--but he was still researching and information gathering while they had plenty of experience. And the stakes seemed absurdly high to chance a failure with this particular subject He hadn’t been avoiding it, just...he was sure the opportunity would present itself. Eventually.

His face was round and slightly alien in its minute proportions; a perfect miniature of a proper nose, a fine dusting of eyebrows above completely smooth little eyelids, a tiny squinch of a mouth that had fallen open in sleep. And he sort of smelled like...slightly sour milk and the floral baby detergent Xichen had bought. Nothing that special.

Cautiously, Meng Yao attempted a gentle joggle with his arms, then froze when those little fingers flexed and the baby made a noise, halfway between a snort and a grunt, but so tiny. How on earth did anything this tiny and helpless even exist? How was he allowed to hold something that had this much potential? This much importance? His father wouldn’t even let him touch his fountain pen at the office--how would he ever let Meng Yao hold his heir? “A-Yao, breathe,” Mingjue’s whisper was nearby and amused and when he looked up at him, Meng Yao saw his face was close, leaning down, hands braced on both arms of the chair. Blocking escape.

“I think you should take him back,” Meng Yao hurriedly whispered back. “I don’t think he likes me. He’s going to wake up and cry.”

Mingjue shrugged. “He might.”

Anxiety, old and choking, rose up in his throat like bile, like failure. “Then take him back.”

The asshole just raised his eyebrow. “No. If he does, it’s not the end of the world. Calm down, smell his head.”

“I can smell him just fine from here, I--”

“Smell his head, I’m telling you--”

“Mingjue--” he hissed, baring his teeth, instinctively looking over at the sleeping Xichen to be the tie breaker and peacemaker, but Mingjue just put the back of his fingers to Meng Yao’s cheek and (gently. Always gently.) pushed his face toward the tiny round head tucked to his shoulder.

Stiffly, he gave a grudging, perfunctory sniff, intending to follow the exact letter of the order and not the spirit, because if he was going to be forced--

Oh. Oh. What? Pressing his nose closer, he breathed in properly. What on earth...

His head did smell different from the old spit up and detergent. Warm and--and--almost sweet but not, somehow mild and calming? It felt familiar, even though it wasn’t. How was this unwinding something in his chest? Without intending to, he breathed out through his mouth in order to hastily draw in another breath, deep and slow. It smelled like... sleep and home and softness. Comfort. And he did have hair, actually--downy little fluff, close to the scalp, soft like velvet when he pressed his lips to it to take a third breath. How did the top of his head smell so good? Was it the baby soap they had used? No, it wasn’t, because he could smell traces of that, soapy and artificial. This was something completely organic that somehow exuded from his scalp?

Mingjue chuckled above his head and Meng Yao opened his eyes--that he didn’t even remember closing. He knew he should probably feel more annoyed at his partner’s smugness but the tension that had been humming through him seemed to have utterly bled away. “There, now, was that so hard?”

“What...is it?” he murmured against the baby’s head, unable to tear his nose away.

“Baby-head smell.”

“Baby-head smell?”

“Mm.”

“Do they--do they all smell like this?”

“More or less. It’s so we don’t eat them when they wake us up in the middle of the night, probably. Hormones and shit.”

“Has someone bottled this? Made it into a candle?” He whispered, affronted. “Is this known?” None of the early childhood development books he had read even alluded to the fact that baby heads apparently smelled like magic. “Does Xichen know?”

Mingjue snorted. “Of course you consider marketing. Yeah, most people who’ve handled babies know about the baby-head smell, so now you do, too. Instant stress relief.”

It was. It was like a drug, how instantaneously it worked. Meng Yao greedily breathed in again, cupping his tiny head closer to him. He could feel the thrum of his heart through his back against his forearms.

Mingjue huffed a fond laugh through his nose and smoothed his hand heavily down Meng Yao’s hair, swaying them both gently as one. “See? Not so scary. Now sit there and relax with baby. I’ll make us all dinner.”

Meng Yao could do that--and quite happily.

#modern 3zun #jgy #nmj #lxc #3zun #also yes the baby is A-Fu he just doesn't have a name yet #I wanted to give them a baby and give them a chance to name him because they don't have either opportunity in the other AU #ALSO GOD I MISS BABIES ;A;#Well it wouldn't be a JGY POV without the shadow of a panic attack but I FIXED IT QUICK #THIS IS A FUN AU. FUN FUN FUN #my stuff #my fic #'he's just here for a little while' suuuuuuure Mingjue >.>

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unovasrose · 2 years ago

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Don’t mind a friendly spiritomb following rosa, chasing after her if she runs like it’s a game

Hi anon! Actually, I will mind a bit... forgive me if I hijack this mostly inoffensive (I can't say well-meaning because it's actually pretty mean-spirited toward my muse) ask to make a small PSA.

We all just write some cool fictional little dudes on the internet so obviously no harm done... however, I'm not really cool with answering this sorta stuff. I know people find it amusing to send ghost-type pokémon-related stuff to Rosa to get a reaction out of her character, which I took in stride the first 20 times, but something like this is a bit of a step up and not something I feel comfortable touching upon with an umprompted anon.

Rosa's trauma surrounding ghost-types and Spiritomb in particular isn't like, say, Misty's aversion to bug-type pokémon in the anime simply because she finds them gross or icky. She had a near-death experience when she was a kid at the hands of a mean-spirited wild pokémon that she is nowhere near ready to face yet, and which would draw severe panic attacks culminating in a catatonic state followed by an emotional slump that would linger for days. While that's something I do want to touch upon at some point, please forgive me for not wanting to do so in response to a random anonymous ask with no potential resolution.

As a final note, I'm fine answering anonymous asks with questions about Rosa or any of my headcanons, as well as anything that merits a short response (such as a reaction to something amusing, funny, embarrassing, etc.) but I don't roleplay any serious topics with anons. Thanks for understanding!

#🌹 ooc.#🌹 psa.#i'm not offended or anything but I hope you understand!#of course I appreciate getting anons #i just realized I have never set any sort of boundary

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stillness-in-green · 4 years ago

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MVA In Memoriam (4/5)

The Comprehensive Account of the Butchering of My Villain Academia

(Introduction and Part One, Episode 108: My Villain Academia) (Part Two, Episode 109: Revival Party) (Part Three, Episode 110: Sad Man's Parade)

Part Four, Episode 111: Origin: Shimura Tenko

Chapter 233 – Bright Future

• Twice clearly having arranged a Skeptic puppet to where its arm can be used as a pillow for Toga’s neck. A cute little character detail while also being kind of disturbing? Very on-brand for the League! A not-immediately-plot-crucial visual of a member of the League demonstrating obvious care for another member? The guillotine awaits!

• A little explanation about how clones’ physicality and memories work relative to the last time Twice saw the people the clones are based on. This is a very useful little nod of explanation to something that remained unclear from the dialogue of Mr. Clone-press last chapter. Twice’s quirk is pretty arcane in its ins and outs, frankly, and the clearer those details are, the fewer plot holes you’re leaving for later.

• The scene of Skeptic being right on the verge of confronting Twice. Skeptic has, oh, about five moments where he’s obviously a big tense neurotic who’s unpleasant to be around if things aren’t going his way, and the anime deleted or downplayed all but two of them. As ever, it’s obscenely damaging to the characterization of the MLA cast, who we have little enough time with as it is. Further, it was a particularly weird choice to make with Skeptic, who is as of this writing the only major MLA character who’ll emerge still free and active from the War Arc. Why shaft the characterization of the one of new characters who’s going to be getting the most attention out of any of them in the next arc, with yet more scenes yet to come after?[1]

• A full page’s-worth of Spinner’s rationalizations on targeting Trumpet and ordering the Twice doubles to do the same. This lays out the details on why targeting Trumpet stands to relieve some of the load on Shigaraki. It isn’t because Trumpet’s quirk makes the crowds more dangerous, though that is true. Spinner targets Trumpet because he’s seen enough to know that attacking the MLA’s leaders gets them crazy riled up; he knows that if he makes himself a threat to Trumpet, then all Trumpet’s followers’ attention will shift focus to Spinner, leaving Shigaraki with less to deal with. Spinner also knows that that is ludicrously dangerous to him personally, given his weak quirk, but he actively makes that choice anyway, because that’s how much he’s devoted himself to Shigaraki without (yet) quite articulating the nature and reasons for that devotion. Targeting Trumpet without any of that reasoning made for a perfectly sound tactical decision, but it missed the regard Spinner shows the unnamed mobs of the MLA, and it really missed the probable savage beatdown and even possible death that Spinner consciously chooses to risk for Shigaraki’s sake. Of course, a chunk of what the episode deleted is flashbacks to scenes the anime also cut, so they couldn’t figure into Anime!Spinner’s reasoning. This does not excuse yet more cuts to Spinner’s arc and characterization; it only adds to how badly the anime maimed him. Also, on a less salty but still confused note, deleting all the Twice clones from the beginning of the scene and just having Spinner running along a wall past mobs of people instead of laboriously fighting his way through the street to the van was really dumb. Why did all those MLA people just stand there and let him run by? Where did all the Twice clones that just helped save Spinner from a huge flurry of long-distance attacks disappear to? Come on.

• Trumpet’s thought that using Sevens Loud will draw every bit of strength from their warriors, but that it’s necessary. Setting aside that it looks far less necessary when there hasn’t been a crowd of Twice clones fighting Trumpet’s people this whole time, just Spinner by his lonesome, we still lost quite a bit to this cut. Firstly, a nuance on the trade-off Incite gives—that its stat-boost is temporary, and that it’s borrowing from the future to pay for the present, a stock that is limited and a bill that will come due when the effect wears off. Secondly, it’s another demonstration that the MLA leaders aren’t just thoughtlessly wasting their followers’ lives; they’re very consciously doing cost/benefit analysis on how much danger their people are in versus what stands to be gained by the potential exertion or outright deaths those people will suffer. It’s cold reasoning, yes, but that’s how the Liberation Army operates: not for the personal gain or lackadaisical ease of the people on top—Trumpet would just have been in the tower speaking through city-wide loudspeakers, if that were the case—but for the advancement of the group’s ideals. It also just grants Trumpet some interiority, but of course the anime can’t have that.

• The note in Trumpet’s meta-ability explanation that the more his voice causes the air to vibrate, the stronger Incite’s effect. This is—good god, it is literally the entire design mentality behind Sevens Loud! Sevens Loud purpose isn't to make his voice louder so more people can hear him (which I would think is the most logical assumption an anime-only person would make as to why he puts it on); it’s to make himself louder because being louder enhances the boost. It’s about the quality of the effect, not the quantity of targets. This is why Trumpet has the thought about how using Sevens Loud will drain the strength reserves of his people. There’d be no correlation there if Sevens Loud were only about boosting his range.

• When Spinner got porcupined in the anime, they did a close-up on his face, possibly to avoid the gore of showing the spines piercing through his forearm. That’s fine, but they also emphasized the reaction by having him lose his grip on the huge fuck-off knife he had clutched in his teeth. In the manga, sure, he yells in pain, but he doesn’t lose the knife. Indeed, he gets the guy off him by slashing at him with it—a shot the anime dropped. So Spinner doesn’t even get to keep displays of his pain tolerance, a trait he doubtless improved during those six weeks against Machia. Why does the anime hate Spinner so much, you guys? Why did it go out of its way to make him look lamer, when Dabi and Toga were out there getting anime-original flourishes to make them look cooler?

• Spinner’s thoughts, “When I get inspired to act, I don’t know what the heck I’m doing! I’m just a loser jumping on a bandwagon. Or at least that’s what it looks like.” A humorous bit of self-awareness from Spinner here. The anime got at the self-awareness. The humor, as we’ll see, not so much.

• Spinner’s thoughts, “Look at me. Look at me!! With all that prejudice in your eyes!” Hah hah, laughed BNHA the anime nervously, what prejudice are you talking about, Spinner? No idea what you could possibly be referring to there! This one’s particularly annoying because, while one might think that the anime was just dodging the heteromorphobia angle it eradicated all references to back at the beginning of the arc, the prejudice line isn’t even about heteromorphobia, not really. See, the Japanese line there literally translates to, “With those colored glasses!”—to see with colored glasses being a Japanese idiom for seeing something from a biased viewpoint. So aside from being a wordplay jab at Trumpet’s choice in eyewear, it’s also about Trumpet’s expressed view that Spinner, having been a shut-in with a weak quirk who decided to take his resentment out on the world, can’t possibly amount to anything much. So, what, did the people in charge of making those cuts think Trumpet was right? Why even keep the line where he disparages Spinner if you’re not going to let Spinner call it what it is? He’s not calling out fantasy racism there, anime! He’s calling out the bias against weak quirks that even the good guys in this world sometimes partake in! Possibly it’s because non-villains in the world[2] sometimes use reasoning that leads logically to quirk supremacism that the anime got gunshy with it, or it was more reluctance to give the villains—and the Too-Real Iguchi Shuuichi especially—moral ground for accusations against their society that get too close to real life. Whatever the motivation, it’s a bullshit cut.

• Shigaraki calling RD “Detnerat,” presumably because he neither knows RD’s real name nor cares to dignify him by using his code name. The anime, again, made neither the connection nor Shigaraki’s recognition explicit, so it lost the specificity and pettiness of that little snub.

• A little exchange between Giran and a Twice clone as they flee. It doesn’t give you much you wouldn’t assume just from seeing them flee, but it always feels more immediate and empathetic when the characters talk and you can see their expressions, instead of just a quick shot of them from behind as they run away in complete silence. Heck, running away in complete silence is actively out of character for Twice!

• Because the anime has some kind of aversion/restriction on showing hand-related violence, it radically changed how Shigaraki lost his fingers,[3] resulting in the loss of several important shots. To the best of my parsing, in the manga, when Re-Destro makes that first big jump to avoid Shigaraki’s decay wave, he comes back down specifically aiming for Shigaraki’s outstretched left hand, spread wide and flat on the ground. Shigaraki tries to evade (you can see the blur of his left arm in the panel where RD lands), but either RD does manage to clip the hand or he simply hits the ground with so much force that the sheer explosive burst of rock shreds Shigaraki’s hand and part of his coat sleeve. Being so much larger, RD then simply snags Shigaraki by the wrist before he can get out of range. It’s very fast, a burst of speed and violence, and very different (read: cooler) from Shigaraki flipping end over end in slow motion in a way that seemed to imply visually that he was thrown well out of RD’s grabbing range. As to the shots we lost? I counted three. First, Hana’s hand crumpling amidst all the flying debris. Second, that big dramatic panel of Shigaraki’s maimed hand ribboning blood into the air as the narration box finally drops Re-Destro’s identity and code name. Third, the shot of him catching Shigaraki, almost delicately, between one thumb and forefinger and delivering the, “Was it this hand that committed such evil acts?” line—a clear threat to what of that hand Shigaraki has remaining—as we find out what his meta-ability is. This is all hugely dramatic in the manga, because, of course, readers always assumed Shigaraki needed all five fingers to activate his quirk, and here Re-Destro nigh-effortlessly robs him of fully half his capacity to use it. It’s a shocking turn-around and instantly ups RD’s threat level by allowing him to permanently maim Shigaraki in a way that no one, hero or villain, has done before or since. Robbing Re-Destro of the immediacy of that seemingly devastating blow—inflicted within moments of meeting the real Shigaraki—did immeasurable damage to his credibility as an arc boss. The shot in the manga is also just arresting visually, with RD finally getting to properly loom over Shigaraki. Most of the shots up to this point have been framed such that, while RD is obviously bigger, he and Shigaraki have still been moving and fighting in a pretty level way. This is the first place where the viewer is situated so squarely behind Shigaraki that they can really feel how massive RD is in comparison. It’s certainly a more impressive visual than this mess—thanks, anime; thanks, whatever broadcasting standards forced overworked and uninspired animators to undertake a redraw of RD’s quirk reveal panel when every other member of the MLA brass had theirs carried over directly from the manga.

• A chapter-ending cliffhanger of Slidin’ Go helping direct traffic on the outskirts of Deika and the warning rumble as Gigantomachia approaches. Aside from being a nice little tension boost—Will Gigantomachia roll up just in time to see Re-Destro making a mess of Shigaraki? Who will he target? Will Shigaraki ever be able to win him over if he sees a scene like that?—it’s good foreshadowing for what the news reports will eventually be saying. Remember, the claim is that a bunch of villains lured Deika’s heroes away and then attacked the city while it was defenseless; that’s why we never see any of the MLA’s heroes involved with the fight once it starts. And now, here, we find out where they’ve been the whole time: making sure no outsiders get in who might be able to undermine that narrative.

Framing Shifts

• Once again had an MLA member using their Detnerat item say its name out loud, when it’s clear in the manga that they’re just thinking the names internally. Once again, it was kind of silly.

• When Spinner flashes back to watching Stain on TV and being inspired, the manga uses a shot of Stain’s face, snarling and defiant. The anime used—a shot of Stain from behind, only visible from the shoulders to the knees, hunched so that his lower back and ass were towards the camera. Bones… What exactly were you implying lit Spinner’s fire there? Or did you just not have the time or budget to go pull Stain’s reference sheets for drawing his face?

• A tone issue, but a major one: Spinner should be grinning, face alight with accusatory challenge, as he hurls his accusations of the MLA/Trumpet being the same bandwagon-jumping nobodies that he is. This is the moment in the manga where we see Spinner truly throw his hesitations and his doubts to the wind and embrace Shigaraki’s nihilistic fervor and the beauty, value and profundity of emptiness. So what if I’m empty? So what if he wants emptiness? Who cares about other peoples’ ideals if their ideals leave no room for me? It’s not a heroic triumph, but it’s a triumph all the same, and losing Spinner’s smile made the moment far too bitter.

• Meanwhile, in exactly the opposite problem, Shigaraki by this point is not smiling. In fact, he’s barely on his feet, swaying violently in place with accompanying sound effects. While his words are openly mocking, he seems to wholly lack the energy to back them up with his usual verve. The anime didn’t have him smiling, admittedly, but the whole time the ‘camera’ wasn’t directly on his face, his voice actor was reading the lines with an uneven, chuckling cadence that suggested Shigaraki was seconds away from breaking into howls of laughter. He was also, of course, impossibly clean, at a point at which his manga counterpart is muddy, bloody and tattered from the horrifically extended combat he’s been living for six weeks. It’s stuff like this that made it so impossible to take the Army or even Machia as much of a threat in the anime, when, other than the red cords on his hands being broken, Shigaraki looked absolutely no different than usual.

Additions

• Gave Spinner a tiny bit of new animation when he got mobbed by people hopped up on Incite. It was nice, but if they were going to give him a flourish, I’d rather it have come when he swipes Porcupine Dude off him with a combat knife. Or, you know, just kept the bit of him telling the Twices to attack and his reasoning on why.

• Cut inside briefly to show a ballerina girl dancing through a darkened apartment right before she sliced a neat circle out of the wall. I love it, A+, exactly the kind of expansion on the action of the manga I wanted to see. My only complaint is that her manga self looked more like Pearl from Steven Universe.[4] XD

• A quick new shot of RD when Shigaraki was hounding him about his feelings. His teeth were visibly gritted, the corners of his mouth pulled down. It stands out because there’s only one shot of RD there in the manga, and in it, he’s smiling, close-mouthed and calm. The anime copied said shot, smile and all, then cut away, and when it cut back, Re-Destro had a totally different expression on his face. Baffling. Anime!RD having a dour scowl everywhere manga!RD is smiling in a tight, controlled way was all over the fight scene, and it detracted from the sense of RD’s menace every time.

Chapter 234 – Destruction Sense

• The illustration(s) accompanying Re-Destro’s, “Let’s not judge people by their quirks,” line. The pictures are cute, but the real loss there was the note informing us that they’re excerpts from a children’s book published by Shoowaysha—Curious’s outfit—called Quirks and Us. That’s a very concrete illustration of the kinds of things the MLA is getting up to in the world, and an equally concrete thing an anime-only viewer lost. Of course, that viewer never even found out Curious was in publishing, so it wouldn’t have meant anything on that front, but there is one other thing I think is notable: the way that book implies that the only people explicitly pushing a “don’t judge other people by their quirks” message are the radical Liberationists. See, the rest of the story touches on the virtues of a nonjudgmental attitude here and there, but actually finding people willing to say it out loud is—unprecedented, I think. Deku comes across situations where he could say something like that multiple times and he never, ever does—not to Shouto, nor to Shinsou, nor to Eri, nor to the giant fox lady. And that’s not even touching on Shouji’s mask, or the discrimination Spinner faced, or the CRC “losing support” without being declared illegal. I think the manga itself is against judging people by their quirks, but it’s interesting that it doesn’t make its characters into mouthpieces to say as much. This is because its characters are thoroughly enmeshed in a society that very much does judge people by their quirks, regardless of whether or not it will say that doing so is bad or rude or prejudiced. Re-Destro and the MLA aren’t immune, of course—Re-Destro himself says that quirks are linked to personality—but they adhere to a different set of values than the larger society does. While Hero Society talks about quirks in terms of being heroic and/or useful versus villainous and/or useless, the MLA spectrums instead emphasize how capable a person’s quirk is of helping them exert their will and how ambitious the quirk’s bearer is in that exertion. That is, their ethics are less about morality and utility-to-society than they are about aspiration and utility-to-self.[5] Both worldviews have their pros and cons, but that, I think, is what the children’s book is getting at when it says not to “judge”—don’t assign an arbitrary moral value to a quirk; judge a person by their actions. And isn’t it interesting, that the only explicit verbal statement of that value comes from the leader of a radical cult descended from a famous insurrectionist quoting a children’s book published by a member of selfsame radical cult? The value is not ever stated by a member of the heroic cast, so are we to assume that the heroes don't actually believe it? Do people profess to believe it but everyone knows it’s only for courtesy’s sake, with only the MLA willing to breach that wall of “things we don’t talk about in polite society” to actually talk about it in anything other than platitudes? Obviously, you lose this entire line of discussion when the "don't judge people by their quirks" value is just never mentioned at all.

• The phrase, “In that case,” from RD’s, “You will never measure up to me.” It establishes continuity to what RD was saying before. He’s not taking breaks from talking while Shigaraki has flashbacks; the two are happening concurrently.

• RD’s, “Cracking apart…?” reaction to his Decayed fingertip, and the dripping blood from the injury. I’m not hugely fussed about the former, but I like the latter as indicative of what Re-Destro’s Stress powers actually do. That is to say, he isn’t covering himself in a thick shell of Stress power or something; his Stress powers make him physically larger, infusing his body and swelling his size. That’s why he bleeds when Shigaraki touches his fingertip. Admittedly, the size distinction was more obvious in the anime, where the audience watched RD’s shoulders inflate like balloons last episode, compared to the manga, where you don’t get in-between animation. Still, given that RD still has that wound even when he goes back down to normal size, and is still wearing bandages for his speech a week later,[6] it’d be nice to mark the severity of the wound with a bit of blood. Oddly, the anime did keep the wound for the crater scene, visible red slices opened in the flesh along the length of his finger, very obviously the sort of injury that would have bled upon being first sustained. Maybe RD ran afoul of whatever the studio mandate is on when Decay has a dust effect and when it leaves gore? (More of that later.)

• Shigaraki’s, “Mother!” for the first panel we see of her. It’s obvious enough who she probably is, but odd that we got a whole bunch of narration for Hana, and likewise an acknowledgment of his grandparents, but not even a single word for Nao.

• Very significantly drops the grandfather’s, “Eating yummy things helps make the sadness go away.” Grandpa’s not just randomly handing Tenko his favorite snack in that memory—he’s trying to treat some kind of grief or wrong without actually addressing the wrong, opting to just put a flavorful band-aid on it. That could be fine if it were something outside Grandpa’s control, but we’ve already gotten some early hints from Hana’s phrasing that things are not okay in the household, and thus the grandfather’s attempt to bribe Tenko with sweets is just as ominous a sign of what’s to come as the grandmother’s attempt to guilt him into not crying lest he make her cry too.

• A little shot of Shigaraki stirring in the rubble when RD answers the phone. It’s a nice demonstration of their size difference, especially comparing both of them to Machia, who we just saw tearing through buildings like the kaiju his theme music declares him to be.

Framing Shifts

• When Shigaraki narrates that Hana always took him by the hand when he got weepy, she actually does take his hand in the manga, her fingers wrapped around his, his clasped over hers. It emphasizes that this is what he can’t do anymore, simply hold hands with people, the innocence lost aspect, and it suggests the closeness he once had with his sister. In the anime, she reached out a hand but wound up taking him by the wrist instead, his hand splayed open beneath hers. This suggested, albeit very implicitly, that maybe that innocence was something he never had from the beginning; it also suggested less reciprocity in his relationship with Hana. Even though Tomura said in narration that their hands were joined, what we saw was that Hana just pulled him where she wanted him and he didn’t fight her on it, not that he held her hand in return. Alternatively, the anime could have been drawing a parallel to how her hand would eventually be gripping his wrist in a much different context (a more necrotic one, for starters) later in life, though if that's what they were going for, they could have stood to tweak the dialogue so it actually matched the onscreen action. (Credit to @robotlesbianjavert and @aysall respectively for these two theories!)

• Shigaraki still having his fingers when Re-Destro squeezed his hand made RD look like a real moron. I assume the intention was that he assumed he’d done enough damage—broken bones, torn ligaments, etc—to prevent Shigaraki from being able to move his hand in more than spastic twitches, but like, if all it takes is a hard enough spasmodic clench to dust you, you are playing much riskier games than the MLA is generally portrayed as favoring. (Not that the anime kept many of the scenes that demonstrated all the planning and prep that the MLA did as groundwork for their attack, as I have complained about at length.) In the same sequence, Anime!RD turned and bodily hurled Shigaraki away from him, while Manga!RD threw him a similar distance with nothing more than a flick of a finger. Anime, why you gotta make Re-Destro look so lame all the time?

Additions

• Just one episode prior, the anime managed to turn in an entirely reasonable assemblage of swiping and dodging between Shigaraki and Re-Destro while RD was rambling on about the Mother of Quirks. What the hell was the excuse for this episode’s ridiculous shot of Shigaraki literally running circles—big, broad circles—around RD multiple times in the time it took RD to finish one (1) thought? For heaven’s sake, if you don’t have the budget for flashy, just use slow motion or more flashback animation or something. I know there’s more leeway for long thoughts in manga, where the reader understands that thoughts are moving far faster than action, and that it can be hard to bridge that gap for anime, where motion is motion but voice acting still has to rattle its way to the end of a sentence. I understand that measures have to be taken to account for that. Still, I promise, something that just looks a bit padded is much preferable to something that looks outright dumb.

• I admit to having found huge Stress monster RD pulling out a teeeeeny-tiny cellphone very funny—even more so the distinct cracking sound it made when Skeptic reported in bad news and RD’s fingers tightened infinitesimally—but the manga suggests fairly strongly that RD’s just answering on some kind of earpiece or micro-receiver, the same kind of thing Ujiko hands out and that Skeptic is associated with on multiple occasions. It’d be nice if RD could have kept more of the jokes he actually makes, the ones that stem from his native good humor, rather than the anime making up new ones based entirely in the contrast of Re-Destro and the viewer’s expectations of Re-Destro.

Chapter 235 – Shimura Tenko: Origin

• The man at the door, whom Nao is apologizing to at the beginning of the Tenko flashback and the apparent reason Tenko got busted for playing hero. I don’t love the way deleting this obscured that Tenko, in some fashion, troubled someone to lead to Kotarou dragging him down the hall (the anime also dropped Kotarou’s subsequent line, “Causing trouble?!” that’s supposed to supplement his, “Playing hero again?”), but it’s not like the manga doesn’t imply that the same thing would happen for any hero-based rules infraction, regardless of whether it troubled strangers or not. No, the much, much funnier thing to me is how it just fuckin’ torpedoed the most obvious thing people point to when they posit that All For One gave Tenko Decay, kicking off the entire tragedy: the man at the door with the conspicuously shadowed face and the even more conspicuously AFO-like suit and dress shirt with the top button unfastened. Listen, I hate that theory and what it would do to the narrative of Shigaraki Tomura/Shimura Tenko as Hero Society’s long-overdue reckoning, the villain they can’t put down and the victim they can’t silence, so watching the anime summarily cut out the scene that really kicked the theory into overdrive was very validating! Conversely, I still can't deny that it's a plausible theory, so if it does turn out to be true, that means the anime shot itself in the foot on the most obvious bit of foreshadowing this side of AFO addressing Tenko by name when he finds him in the alley. The schadenfreude of that would also be very funny. Really, unlike every other cut this season, I regard this one as win-win for my personal experience with the anime. Incidentally, I was very prepared to complain about the anime dropping all the changes of clothes the Shimura family goes through over the course of the flashback—I regard the timelapse as one of the major points against the AFO Gave Tenko Decay theory, since it’s never taken a quirk bestowed by AFO multiple days, maybe even multiple weeks, to kick in before—but it turns out I’m a lot less bothered about them not taking the time to change the side characters’ clothes when the anime also deletes the dude at the door who is the only reason I care about clarity re: how much time the flashback covers! But just for the record, while they had more outfits than I was expecting them to, the family did go through fewer changes of clothes in the anime than in the manga.

• The full echo of the line about kids being sneaky and simple in favor of Narrator!Shigaraki just letting out this exhausted, rueful, “Ahhh, kids are…” I actually rather like it. It’s a clear reference back to the earlier line without having to restate the whole thing, and Uchiyama Kouki’s delivery is really excellent.

• Kotaro’s first slap of Tenko, the only one directly portrayed on-panel, and Mon-chan’s barking in response. On the one hand, I think there’s an argument to be made for the scene flowing a bit better like this—why wouldn’t Grandpa try to stop him from going for that second slap; why wouldn’t Nao pass Hana off to Grandma and do something instead of just standing there yelling for the entire scene? It makes a bit more sense if they’re hesitant to intervene because Kotarou has “only” grabbed at Tenko’s collar and they don’t yet know how that it’s going to escalate to naked physical violence in a way that it never has before. On the other hand, that first slap is so visceral and shocking. Nowhere else in the manga is domestic violence portrayed more sharply and directly, in greater detail or more cruelly generous panel space than in this moment. It’s in the difference in size between Kotarou and Tenko, the force behind the hit that’s enough to knock Tenko clear off his feet, the pages upon pages of gut-churning lead-up to this moment and what we know will be following soon after. Also too, it makes the family’s failure to help Tenko much worse that no one else acts when Kotarou pulls back for a second hit. The first one, you could almost excuse because no one saw it coming; the second throws those justifications out the window and spits on them afterward. Two hits are important—not only for what they tell Tenko in the moment about his family's inaction, but because two hits speak in ways one hit doesn't to how wildly uneven the power balance is in the house, that Nao and her parents could witness something like that and not only fail to intercede, but then take who knows how long to work up the courage to confront Kotarou afterwards. I understand very well the fear of showing this in a family TV timeslot—the violence is so much more real than any big fantasy beat-‘em-up could ever be—but it’s the kind of thing that really drives home what Tenko needed to be saved from even back then, a social issue that heroes as they currently exist were in no position to address. Far from demonstrating that heroes aren't at fault for what happened to Tenko, though, what this scene truly does is vividly illustrate the flaws in All Might's social contract, in which his power and smile seem to promise that he can save absolutely everyone, only to leave children like Tenko out in the cold with no explanation as to why. It's brutal because it has to be, and the anime shying away from depicting Kotarou's physical abuse undercut that.

Framing Shifts

• There was a bizarre, nonsensical change to the scene at the beginning of the chapter where RD is figuring out how Shigaraki survived/got back up after taking a Burden attack head-on. The manga’s explanation is that Shigaraki didn’t actually take a full force hit because he was Decaying it even as it was blowing him back. This is somewhat silly, given that even a reduced-strength Burden is still strong enough to put him through multiple buildings. It is, however, less silly than the anime’s take, in which Shigaraki touched Re-Destro rather than the corporealized Stress of Burden. How Re-Destro survived a full-fingered touch from Shigaraki’s completely uninjured right hand[7] went totally unexplained; the problem was then compounded by Re-Destro delivering manga-accurate lines about Burden not being an evadable attack despite “evasion” having nothing to do with Shigaraki’s actions. Anime!Shigaraki didn’t dodge the Burden attack any more than Manga!Shigaraki did; unlike Manga!Shigaraki, however, Anime!Shigaraki also did nothing to reduce the impact of the attack. So not only was how Shigaraki survived the Burden attack not explained, the change to the material also opened up the plot hole of how Re-Destro survived a direct touch attack that Shigaraki in the manga never lands.

• There was also an extremely weird decision made to give Tenko dark, gray-blue eyes, obviously reminiscent of Nana’s, and suggest that they became red at the same time as his hair was changing to white. But in the manga, other than the size, there’s no difference between young Tenko’s eyes and how Shigaraki’s eyes have always been drawn—an unshaded iris with a visible pupil and a relatively thick line delineating the iris from the white of the sclera. Tenko’s eyes never matched those of anyone else in his family, least of all his dark-eyed grandmother. His hair changed color because of a trauma response,[8] but his eyes were always red.

• Relocated Shigaraki’s first, “Little kids…are sneakier than you’d expect. And simpler,” to underscore Hana showing him Nana’s picture in the study, squarely centering the line on her. And like, yes, that line does get its bitter echo later when Hana panics in the face of her father’s fury and throws the blame onto Tenko—but that line isn’t just about her; it’s also about what Tenko wanted to hear from the other adults in his life. It didn’t matter that his father didn’t approve; if he could get at least one adult to say he could be a hero, to take his side, then he could feel vindicated. It’s a child’s sneaky, simple reasoning: if an adult’s words are absolute, you just have to get one (1) adult to agree with you. It’s asking Dad if you can do something you don’t think Mom will agree to, and then going to Mom with Dad’s permission held defensively in-hand. Laying the line over Hana obscures that it’s as much about Tenko’s craving for external validation as it is Hana’s (entirely understandable) deceitful streak.

• After half a season full of internal monologue being voiced aloud even when it made little sense to do so, the anime decided to render clearly talk-bubbled dialogue—Tenko’s chatting at Mon about how he feels like he could take on the world—as internal monologue instead. Who talks to their animals in their heads when they could be talking at them directly like pet owners the world over?

Additions

• Added a few extra stills of Kotarou rebuking Tenko and dragging him around. I don’t think they’re inaccurate to the situation, though I wonder if it really needed to be underlined two more times than the manga did. Maybe they were trying to make up in advance for deleting the first slap?

• Added a few new stills of Nana and child!Kotarou. They hurt my soul and I love them without reservation.

Chapter 236 – Shimura Tenko: Origin, Part 2

• Hana’s second apology. What needs to get across was communicated with her first apology, but I do think the second one adds some naturalism to the dialogue. It feels very normal for a child feeling extremely guilty to apologize multiple times, like the more times they say it, the more true/convincing it will become.

• A bit of Tenko’s internal monologue—thinking Hana’s name, and Mon’s, and that he can’t talk. The anime slipped some attempts at verbalizing “Mon” into the dialogue, and it was painfully obvious just from listening to him gag and choke that he was too horror-struck to get words out, in ways that would be a little harder to convey on the page. Also, he thinks again that he can’t talk just as Hana runs away, so it gets across regardless. No real complaints here.

• Some thoughts about how he’s itchy, which, given what his itch represents (or at least what he thinks it does), they probably should have kept for continuity’s sake.

• Tenko’s last, “Hana-chan!” just as he grabs for her. I can imagine it having just that little bit more desperate impact, especially given Sekine Arisa’s great delivery of the first “Hana-chan!” but his delivery of the first one was great—weeks later, I can still remember it clearly—so it’s not a snip I’m inclined to doomsay about.

• Hana’s verbalization as the Decay hits her. Given that they kept Mon-chan’s last whimper, it’s kind of inconsistent not to keep this. It’s grueling, sure, but no more so than the rest of the horror show shortly to follow.

• An echo of Nao’s defense of Kotarou’s anti-hero stance. Frankly, I think anime already over-indulges in echoing dialogue we’ve heard not ten minutes prior, so I don’t mind losing this—in the manga, the moments would have fallen in different chapters, so it makes more sense to squeeze in the little reminder, but that wasn’t necessary for the anime, in which the original moment and the callback happened barely more than five minutes apart. It was obvious what the mental image was meant to draw attention to, since Tomura was narrating about exactly what his grievance was, and the image was followed by the two equivalent moments with the grandparents. (Admittedly, it hurt that correlation a bit that Grandpa’s line about the ohagi being intended to make the sadness go away got cut, but the sentiment was pretty clear from the man’s expression of nervy, abashed guilt regardless.)

• The line of Decay that splits Nao’s eye, one of the more vividly horrific little grace notes in the chapter. It undercut the grotesquerie just the tiniest bit, but the scene’s grotesque as-is, so I can understand that slight edit for TV standards. The discrepancy between Decay-to-dust and Decay-to-gore, discussed below in Framing Shifts, was much more damaging.

• A shot of Kotarou just after he hits Tenko with the tree pruning shears in which he looks, briefly, incredibly distraught, like he’s just realized what a monster he’s become. The anime didn’t make the slightest of attempts to keep that spasm of horror, grief, and regret, and thus lost that last moment of sympathy for a man deeply traumatized by a heroic character’s actions. It’s my only complaint about Anime!Kotarou, who I was otherwise far more pleased with than I was afraid might be the case, but it’s a complaint I must register nonetheless.

• A bit of inarticulate yelling before Tenko screams, “You... Die!!” It helps get across Tenko’s rage overflowing, to have that wordless garble before he can actually wrap words around it. He was still having trouble talking, too, so it makes sense that his first vocalization would just be a long, incomprehensible screech. That said, with the music there to supplement the mood in a way the manga would lack, I don’t think the anime’s rendition of the scene suffered overmuch from its absence.

Framing Shifts

• The anime, of course, has always gone the dust route for Decay because Decay is a little too gruesome for family hour TV, and anyway, when Tomura gets as fast with Decay as he is in Deika, he really is just insta-dusting people, such that not even blood remains. But he wasn’t that fast or that thorough as a child, hence why it’s all so much gorier—and it needs to be, because it’s hard to imagine Hana freaking out like she does if all she sees is a pile of dust instead of, well, dog gobbets. (Also, if his family had gone the dust route, it would have been very hard to convince the audience that Tomura’s hands are his family hands and not fakes provided to AFO by Ujiko.) This obviously put the anime in a difficult spot, but apparently the decision they settled on was—to not decide? Everyone we saw in the active process of decaying decayed into dust as usual, but then once they were done decaying, once that transition from person to ruin was complete, there were all these heaps of gore everywhere. It was a very strange and distracting inconsistency that hurt the scene much more than any of the nearly invisible cuts, and I hope the blu-rays will change it.

• Added Grandpa catching Grandma as she staggered at the sight of things in the yard. Since his body language in the manga (the only non-Decayed shot of him in the sequence) has him leaned more forward, like he’s still halfway through running towards the kids, I thought this was a nice little touch on why he stopped, for reasons other than just the obvious.

---

Episode 111 was about half of a really strong episode. Most of my complaints about the Shimura Family flashback are very minor, and most of the ones that are less minor are still easy to overlook when the rest of the presentation was so strong. Unfortunately, the non-flashback half of the episode had as many problems as ever, and those aren't over yet.

Come back next time for Part Five, Episode 112: Origin: Shigaraki Tomura. Assuming my complaining about the finalized gutting of Spinner's arc doesn't get too out of hand—which it may; if so, I'll tack on one final part to wrap things up—I'll also be running down a quick overview of the Paranormal Liberation Front scenes in the Endeavor Agency arc and some various odds & ends.

FOOTNOTES

[1] Yes, I know the Skeptic Confronts Twice scene goes nowhere, but maybe, instead of deleting it, they could have patched it up by showing Skeptic turning away from the confrontation when the tower went down? You know, actually made an effort to improve on the material?

[2] Bakugou, of course, but also Inko, Kotarou, and, very prominently, even All Might. Deku circa MVA has an entire arc lying in wait for him about how much he’s internalized All Might’s paternalism re: having the strongest quirk.

[3] Indeed, as of the scene in the crater, he still hadn’t lost them at all! He had his prosthetic by the time of the speech, so I guess we’re meant to assume that Ujiko or some MLA doctor declared them past saving and amputated them. I hope I don’t need to tell you how unbelievably lame it is to have a shounen manga character sustain a permanent injury like that off-panel.

[4] It’s the pointy nose.

[5] That, at least, is the best way I’ve found to reconcile all the related-but-distinct values professed by the various members of the MLA brass, from Re-Destro’s focus on liberation and purpose, what exactly Trumpet chooses to cite when he’s talking about Spinner not “amounting” to anything much, Geten’s open extolling of quirk supremacy, and so on.

[6] In the first big double-page spread. Oddly, no bandaging is visible in the other panel that has a good shot of that hand, possibly because Horikoshi was more focused on drawing RD’s empty pant leg. The anime kept the obvious wound during the crater scene, but not the bandages during the speech.

[7] I assume, anyway, that Re-Destro only survives Shigaraki’s first touch because it’s a weaker Decay, coming as it does from only from two fingers rather than five.

[8] The fabled Marie Antoinette Syndrome. Never been scientifically documented as such (hair can whiten because of extreme stress, but not overnight) but it endures in fiction because it’s pleasingly dramatic. Trauma-based eye-color changes, not so much.

#my villain academia #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha #bnha meta #my writing #stillness has salt

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13uswntimagines · 5 years ago

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Learning to Love (Preath x Adopted Teen!Reader)

Request: could you do something where christen and Tobin adopt teenage r whose been through a lot and shows her how to accept love or something fluffy and angsty like that

Pt 2

Author’s Note: So this was really difficult for me to write for some reason. it’s also super long, but I wanted to include several learning moments. I’m going to put a warning on this for mentions of abuse, but nothing graphic. I hope you enjoy this! Send me Requests, Questions, or if you just wanna say Hi! Let me know what you think, your comments mean the world to me.

You woke with a start, a cold sweat covering your entire body, your breathing heavy, and your brain trying to remember where you were. You clutched at the old hoodie you were wearing, pulling the collar to your nose and breathing in Tobin’s soothing scent.

You had stolen the Thorns sweater awhile ago and never given it back. You found comfort in one of the several items that had become your own the 8 months that you had been with the women.

You had immediately clicked with Tobin. Her overall laid back demeanor had set you at ease. Your mutual love of art always gave you talking points, whenever you actually felt like talking. But she never pushed, she was just as comfortable in silence as she was when you were conversing about art.

It had taken you a little longer to become comfortable around Christen. She was the observant one. The one who always knew when you weren’t telling them the whole truth. The one who always pressed you to explain why you felt the way that you did, and at first that had unnerved you. She wasn’t pushy, but she had a way of getting you to open up that terrified you.

You were like Tobin in the fact that you were never very good with words. You didn’t know how to articulate your feelings verbally, and the more… positive emotions confused you. Your parents had both been drug addicts, more interested in their respective highs than your actual wellbeing, or teaching you what affection was. You had only been removed from the home after your mother had tried to sell you to an undercover cop in exchange for drugs. You had spent the next 10 years bouncing around through the foster system, with each home only building on the scars that the last had left behind.

Then by some miracle, you had met Christen and Tobin, who seemed determined to teach you about the happier emotions. The emotions that you didn’t understand. Hell, you had nearly jumped out of your skin the first time one of them tried to touch you. The going was slow, but it wasn’t in their nature to give up.

You glanced at the clock, sighing at the blinking 4:40 that you found there. It was too early to be up, but you didn’t know if you could go back to sleep after your dream (memory?). You sighed, sliding out of bed and heading for the one room in the apartment that you knew could help you. The room that both women had made sure you knew was open 24/7 the moment they found out about your propensity for art.

You were so engrossed in your project that you didn’t hear the door to Tobin’s studio open. She looked you over from the door, watching as you traced one of her canvases with a dark charcoal color. The painting before you was striking. A perfect rendition of a man's face over a cowering form. The only happy portion of the canvass was a warm red in the distance.

“Hey kid, what ya up to?” She asked quietly, don’t her best not to startle you. You jumped anyway, dropping the paintbrush with a loud crash.

“I’m sorry I- I-I didn’t…” you stuttered turning to face her, your cheeks very red. She held up a hand to stop you. She wanted to say that this response was unusual, but it wasn’t. Your go-to was to immediately apologize for whatever.

“Slow down kid, we told you that you could use this room whenever you wanted,” She soothed, moving to stand beside you and rubbing soothing circles on your back. Your shoulders relaxed, and your gaze returned to your masterpiece.

“Okay,” You breathed out.

“It’s really good,” She said in awe, taking in the detail of the piece. Your lips twitched up slightly, and Tobin was glad you didn’t try and fight her on it. You weren’t used to complements without strings, and they were still teaching you to accept them.

“Thanks, I couldn’t get it out of my head,” You mumbled, biting your lip, shaking your head slightly. You ran a hand through your hair, and Tobin resisted the urge to laugh when a red paint line followed the path of your hand.

“Nightmare?” She questioned as casually as she could. Yes, she had read your file, but she wanted to hear about your experiences from you when you were ready. So far the only thing you had told them was that the man you kept drawing was father number 4.

“Mmm,” You hummed back, tilting your head to the side.

“You know you can always come to get me or Chris if you’re too scared to go back to sleep,” Tobin asked for what probably was the millionth time. You gave her a slight nod. People always said that but the moment you started asking for things, the moment you became more work than what you were worth, they would throw you away.

There was a beat of silence between the two of you, and you felt the urge to finally tell her more about the painting. About why he was always so much bigger than you. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, trying to find the right words. Tobin shot you an encouraging smile.

“Hey, you two breakfast-“Christen’s voice called out before you could divulge any secretes, before cutting itself off “whoa baby this is fantastic,” She said the second she saw the painting.

You pulled your lips into a tight line and nodded your thanks, grabbing her hand and pulling her into a hug. You buried your face in her shoulder, taking in gulps of her scent, allowing it to soothe you. She wound her arms tighter around you, running careful fingers through your hair.

You had taken a long time to warm up to her, but you loved her cuddles, and this was a typical good morning gesture after a hard night.

“Can I ask you a question?” Christen questioned softly, her and Tobin’s hands running circles on you back.

“Hmmm,” was your only response to her, not willing to leave your new favorite hiding spot yet.

“You’ve told us about this part, but what’s this?” She asked, pointing to the bright spot that was a new addition to the image the women had become very familiar with. You had known this part was coming. It was part of your therapy, to explain some parts of the painting to them. It was difficult, but in the end, it helped. It made everything a little less scary.

You but your lip in thought. Truth be told, you weren’t sure what the bright light was.

“It’s-, I’m always trying to get to it. I know that whatever’s behind the door is… safe? That’s not the word, it’s more than that it’s… I don’t know how to explain it,” you stuttered out, furrowing your eyebrows in concentration. You were good at naming the negative emotions, but oftentimes the happy ones evaded you.“I don’t know what’s behind it, only that I need it,”

“That’s ok baby, wanna come eat some pancakes?” Christen sent you a blinding smile, and Tobin Laughed as your face lit up. You loved pancakes.

“Can I finish it?” You asked hesitantly. You hated leaving things half-done.

“Yeah baby, come find us when you’re done,” Tobin nodded, patting your back before they both took their leave.

You watched them go. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but you knew they cared for you in a way you had never experienced before.

****

Camp was an… experience, and meeting so many new people was frightening, but Tobin and Christen had kept their promise to always protect you. The team had been understanding about your aversion to touch and never pressured you to join in their shenanigans. They also gave you more people to draw.

You sighed leaning back against the bench that was acting as your backrest, pulling your knees closer to your chest and digging your feet into the grass of the practice field. You rested the black sketchbook that had always been your companion on your knees, bringing it closer to your face. You held your pencil between your teeth, your eyes flicking between the fine lines sketched on the page and the two women who were depicted. You were sure that the realistic picture was almost done, but something was missing. Something you couldn’t put your finger on.

“What ya go there kiddo,” Christen asked, stopping several feet away from you and gesturing to the space beside you. You sent her a careful nod, and she sat down a few feet away from you on the turf.

That was one thing that you appreciated about the women, they always came down to your level to make you feel more comfortable.

“It’s Becky and Alyssa, but something’s not right,” You mumbled, scooting closer to the woman, who smiled softly at you.

“I’m not a sketch artist, but I could check it out if you want,” She offered, bringing her hand up to rub your back. Her smile widened when you didn’t immediately flinch away at the contact.

It was a slow process, but little by little they were showing you how nice human touch could be. You loved morning cuddles, but you only liked touches that you initiated. You bit your lip in thought and sent the woman a very tiny nod, before carefully sliding over the book. A small gasp left her lips when eyes landed in the pencil sketch.

“This is incredible,” Christen said in awe, her fingers running lightly over the near-perfect replicas of her teammates. You shrugged, your eyebrows furrowing.

“Something’s missing, but I don’t know what. Like it doesn’t feel right,” You murmured, glaring at the sketch in frustration. The picture was missing the key element that would make it come to life on the page. You didn’t know what it was, so how could you add it?

Christen glanced up at you. You rested your chin on your knees, hugging your legs, knowing that there would be no way of completely getting out of this conversation. You didn’t typically bring up your feelings, and Christen wasn’t one to let that go.

“Why doesn’t it feel right?” She questioned softly, bringing her hand up to gently smooth out the wrinkles in your forehead, and run her thumb down your cheek. You sighed and tilted your head into her hand just slightly.

“It’s just…” you stuttered, trying to find the words to describe the women. It wasn’t just one thing. It was how their bodies always seemed connected, even from across the field. How their eyes always seemed to be on each other. How they touched each other with such care. “The way they’re so… drawn to each other.” You finished after a few seconds, shaking your head. It was so much more than that. It was an extremely deep connection that went beyond simple care. “I don’t understand how…” You trailed off, pinching your space between your eyes.

Your sketch was missing the connection between the two. The ease they clearly felt with each other. The amount they… cared.

“They love each other,” Christen responded gently, watching your reaction very carefully. Your lips formed an even tighter line. Your childhood had shown you that love didn’t exist, but the thing between the women was so defined. So alive and vivid. Could it be love?

“Hmm,” you hummed, pulling the book back towards you, scratching behind your ear. Maybe it was love.

Tobin watched you from afar, her lips quirking up at how well you were doing with Chris.

“She’s a little shy, but she seems to be doing ok with all of us,” Ash mumbled, standing beside her and watching your interaction.

“Kid has had it rough,” Tobin husked out. How someone could treat a child the way you were treated, she would never understand. Hell, you had been removed from one of the foster homes for suspected poisoning, and you were petrified to eat anything you didn’t open yourself. Your file was as almost as tall as a toddler, and she wondered how you had slipped through the system for so long.

“We don’t doubt that,” Ali said gently, rubbing Tobin’s shoulder in a soothing fashions

“She seems pretty close to Chris though,” Ashlyn smiled when you leaned into Christen’s hand, the comfort you took from the contact obvious from the look on your face.

“Sometimes,” Tobin shrugged. It was odd. There were moments where you were completely open with them, and then two seconds later you would throw all your wall up again.

“She draws a lot,” Kelley pointed out, joining the three women in their observation of you.

“It’s the only way she knows how to express herself,” Tobin hummed shrugging.

“That’s not surprising,” Kelley said, and all the women turned to look at her.

“she was probably punished for showing any emotions at all,” Ash added with a thoughtful look on her face, and Tobin nodded. She had seen the scars, both physical and mental. Though you hadn’t unpacked them all with them, it would be impossible to hide the marks that would be with you for the rest of your life. It was also something your therapist had told them both in the beginning.

“All I know is that it gives us a way to start that conversation without making her too uncomfortable” Tobin shrugged. It was true, you wouldn’t tell them what was bothering you until it was drawn on a page. It was your process and that was ok. They were showing you that feelings were ok. “She’s come a hell of a long way,”

****

Your eyes traced the faces sketched upon the page, your eyebrows furrowing because there was something yet again missing. Your dinner sat untouched on the plate in front of you, as you were far too focused on your drawing of the two blond women.

You felt the presence behind you before you saw her, and you didn’t mind. Yes, Emily was a little hyper, but she was funny and sweet, and you had known her and Lindsey longer than you had known most of the other women. You had gotten to know them on the many times you had accompanied you m-. Tobin. The many times you had accompanied Tobin to practice. The same went for Kelley.

“Holy shit! Tobs was right, you do have some skill!” She exclaimed, placing two hands on your shoulders. You jumped at the contact, squeezing your eyes shut, dropping your sketchbook on the table with a thump. The noise lost in the general chatter in the room (though Tobin and Christen did send you a worried look from where they were talking with Alex and Kelley.)

“Disonny, remember we had this talk?” Lindsey said as she appeared on your other side, sending Emily a disdainful look. The women knew that you didn’t like surprise touches, it was one of the many rules that Tobin and Chris had given them.

“Oh, right. Sorry kid. But like that drawing is fire,” Emily jumped back quickly, sending you a regretful look. She pointed to the chairs next to you, and you nodded with a small smile.

“It’s not right…” You murmured, returning your attention to the drawing, biting your lip.

“What do you mean, it looks just like us?” Lindsey asked, leaning forward to get a better look at the picture of her and Emily. You had drawn it during the tactics meeting. There was just something about the way Lindsey’s hand was placed in Emily’s back, and how Emily was watching her instead of Vlatko that had been irresistible to you.

“It’s missing something,” You grumbled shaking your head. You missed the glance that the two women shared. They knew that Chris and Tobin were trying to teach you to open up about your feelings.

“Like what?” Lindsey asked carefully. Placing a gentle hand on your back and rubbing soothing circles like she had seen Christen do about a million times.

“It’s something about the eyes. They get this glint when you look at each other,” You said, turning to the two women. Your hands moved animatedly as you tried to explain the thing that you knew was missing. The thing that you didn’t have a name for, but you could see clear as day. The thing that you just couldn’t capture on paper.

“It’s because we love each other,” Emily explained as gently as she could, and you tensed. As far as you were concerned, love was a myth. A thing people used to give others hope or to justify their despicable actions. Dads 3 and 9 had proved that to you with their twisted definitions, and all of the families that had packed you up and shipped you off had destroyed any understanding of the concept. To think that someone would have such a deep level of care for another, only expecting the same in return was mind-boggling to you.

“Love doesn’t exist,” You huffed, turning away from Emily’s kind eyes, and running a frustrated hand through your hair. The women resisted the urge to sigh. This wasn’t an uncommon occupancy, but your absolute denial was still a little disheartening, as everyone was doing their damndest to show you differently.

“You’re allowed to feel that way, but I’m going to disagree with you,” Lindsey murmured, carefully untangling your hand from your hair and holding it in her own. You tended to take out your frustrations on yourself. A habit, among many others, that the women were working to break.

“How do you know you love her and not something else?” You questioned, staring at the two women. The let your challenging tone roll off of them. They knew you had some deep-seated beliefs and that it took time to change them.

“I care for Lindsey so deeply that I would do anything for her,” Emily started, grabbing her girlfriends hand and looking at her with so much devotion it almost took your breath away.

“I always want to be around Emily. I want to protect her and make her feel better when she’s sad,” Lindsey finished, an equally adoring glint in her eyes. What you would give to be able to capture those looks perfectly on paper. Do be able to do that look justice.

“I don’t, I just-,” You stuttered, your eyebrows furrowing. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, trying to figure out what you were trying to say. Tobin and Christen were always trying to make you feel welcome to make you feel better. Could that be what they meant? “She makes you feel safe?” You asked hesitantly.

“The safest I’ve ever felt,” Lindsey said solemnly, and Emily nodded her agreement. You glanced over to the table where Christen was sending you a questioning smile. You smiled back.

Lindsey and Emily shared another look, realizing that your doubts about love had nothing to do with them, but were instead about how you were feeling about your moms.

“That’s how they make me feel,” You mumbled, looking down, almost ashamed. Tobin and Christen had done nothing but try and get you to open up to them. To make you feel safe and comfortable, and you couldn’t get a grip and call them Mom or tell them that you cared about (loved?) them.

“For the record, they have the same glint when they look at you,” Lindsey whispered into your ear, pulling you into a hug. You gave her a tiny, not quite believing nod. You wanted to believe her, but how could anyone love a messed up 13-year-old like you?

****

You woke with a start, sitting bolt upright in your hotel room bed. Your heart was racing so fast that you thought it might beat right out of your chest. You clenched your eyes shut in an attempt to rid the images out of your mind. To rid the smell of his breath, that evil glint in his eyes, or the pain he had inflicted on your lower half from your brain.

“Hey baby doll, you alright?” Tobin’s sleepy voice broke you out of your spiraling thoughts, and you bit down hard on your hand to prevent the sob from leaving your lips.

“Hey, Y/n are you alright?” She said, flipping on the light, which startled Christen awake. They both took in your shaking form. Your face was pale, and you were rocking back and forth in the bed. You stared unseeingly at them, almost as though you were in a different world.

The two women immediately jumped into action, Tobin rushing to grab a warm washcloth from the bathroom, and Christen slowly moving to sit beside you on your bed. Her hand came up to gently run circles on your back.

“Y/n, baby,” She murmured, afraid that she would startle you more than you already were. Your eyes snapped to her and you shook your head rapidly, tears flowing freely down your face. You leaned further into her touch, collapsing in her arms. She pulled you closer to her, rocking you back and forth as you sobbed into her chest. Tobin ran a comforting hand through your hair when she returned, unwilling to coax you out of your hiding spot in her wife’s chest.

She held you tight as if to reassure you that she was there, and she was never leaving. She and Tobin shared several worried looks, unsure of how to proceed. It was rare that you showed them any emotions besides happiness and frustration. They knew you had nightmares, but they had never been involved in the aftermath of one before.

They half you between them, cooing soothing words and reassurances into your hair until your crying slowed.

“Hey, baby can you look up at me?” Tobin asked softly, running the warm cloth over your features when you glanced up at her. You sighed into the touch, unused to the warm feeling that settled in your chest.

“Can you tell us what’s going on?” Christen murmured into your hair, never stopping her comforting rubbing on your back or her rocking back and forth. You rapidly shook your head, returning to your hiding place. You knew that they had read your file before they adopted you, but reading a second-hand account of events and hearing it were two very different things.

“Why not baby? It might help to get it off your chest,” Tobin pressed just a little, and she saw your shoulders deflate.

“You won’t want me anymore,” You said so quietly into Christen’s shoulder that it was almost inaudible. The women gasped.

“We will never not want you Kid” Tobin declared firmly, as Christen’s rocking picked up to ebb the tears that had started to flow again.

A choked “Why?” left your lips, muffled by the soft material of Christen’s shirt, and you felt both women tense. You had been to hell and back, and you just couldn’t understand why the women hadn’t given up on you yet. Perhaps it was their competitive nature. Always wanting to overcome every challenge they face. But perhaps it was something else, the little voice in the back of your brain said.

“Because we love you,” Christen whispered into your ear, and your tears increased.

“You’re an amazing kid, and you bring so much light to our lives, despite all of the shit that you’ve been through,” Tobin added, wrapping her arms around both of you. You sighed into their touch.

“Will you stay with me?” You whimpered softly. They made you feel safe, and you knew that you wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep without them.

“Always kiddo,” Tobin hummed, pulling the covers back and allowing Chris to maneuver you had her underneath them before joining you. You sighed deeply, relaxing at the feeling of both of them. You felt so safe, so protected between them. You felt… something so much greater than care. Something that you had been avoiding.

As you drifted off you released a soft “love you mom and mama,”. You missed the shit-eating grins that took over both women’s faces, as they had been waiting for this moment for 8 months. The moment where you would finally accept their love, accept their invitation into their family. But you did catch the soft “love you too baby,” that came from both women.

Things weren’t perfect, but they were heading that way. Sure, it would be a challenge, but they would never give up on you. You were theirs and they were yours forever and always.

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #preath x reader #preath imagine

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alpacaparkaseok · 5 years ago

Text

The Other Side

Part Two

Genre: KSJ Soulmate au

Warnings: none, it’s pure fluff with some emotional jazz I guess

Word Count: 8.8k

Yuri jams her body between me and the door, staring me down as I rattle the handle.

“You locked it!” I shout, seeing red. The door doesn’t budge as I continue to try to break out, the sounds of people shouting outside only spurring me on.

My friend gives me a stern look before nodding. “The door is locked, yes. It will stay like that until you get your heart rate under control. And you want to know how-”

“Yeah, whatever. Get it set up.”

I wave her off, Yuri laughing as I’ve come back to my senses a bit. She rummages through her bag before pulling out a handheld heart monitor. While she pulls a chair over I sink down to my knees, sitting against the door for support.

The second I lean against it, the door jolts. It would appear that Jin has finally arrived.

Yuri has a wide-eyed gaze as she watches the door shake. Jin’s voice rings out loud and clear as he comes to the realization that the door is indeed locked.

“Key. Now.”

Several voices answer him, but he pays them no heed.

“Who locked it.”

His voice is low and monotone, barely sheathing the sharpness that’s threatening to break free and cut down anyone in his path. Just the mere sound of it is enough to make my heart jump again, and I close my eyes against the stars in my vision.

Yuri notices and kneels before me, looping the heart monitor around my finger before lightly tapping my shoulder.

“The senior assistant is on his way, he’ll get Jin under control. For now, do you think you could tell him to calm down and put the heart monitor on?”

I know what she’s saying, but it still takes me a moment to wrap my mind around her words. Once I do, I take a deep breath and give her a shaky nod.

“Sure.”

Rising from the ground, I pause and beg the rational part of my brain to make an appearance. A wry smile cuts across my face.

“This is probably the worst first day ever.”

Yuri shrugs. “Or the best.”

Shaking my head, I knock lightly on the door. I have to do it a couple of times before it’s quiet enough out there for Jin to hear me.

When it’s quiet but nobody responds, I attempt to speak.

“Seokjin?” I wince at how informal I sound, but I’ll just have to dwell on the logistics of it all later on.

Footsteps draw nearer until they’re just before the door. “H-Haneul? Are you ok?”

My cheeks burn bright red as I realize that he remembered my name. “I’m fine, but I need you to do me a favor.”

“Anything,” he responds without a moment’s hesitation. “What do you need?”

Finding encouragement in Yuri’s proud smile, I close my eyes and lean my head against the door. “There should be another heart rate monitor in my bag; I left it in the other room. You need to put it on.”

“You...want me to leave and grab it?” There’s a note of panic in his voice which matches the hitch in my breathing as I think about Jin leaving.

“No! No, don’t leave.” I take a deep breath, fighting to remain in control of my senses. “Just have someone grab the bag and bring it back. Yuri said that the senior assistant will be up shortly - he’ll know what to do from there.”

I’m sure that there’s a crowd of people outside the door, because I hear several feet hurrying away. Despite hearing Jin’s obvious aversion to leaving, I still start to panic as I imagine him leaving.

What if he doesn’t come back? I mean, Bighit probably won’t want me for the job anymore, seeing that I’ve complicated everything. Maybe Jin’s disgusted with me and will just leave before word can get out that his soulmate is a soulmate assistant. My status alone would result in a PR disaster as is-

“Haneul?”

I didn’t even realize how hard I was pushing up against the door until I hear Jin’s voice on the other side. Head jolting up, I gulp down air to fill my empty lungs.

“Yes?”

Now that Jin has calmed down a bit, he sounds a bit timid. “They brought your bag back. Is it ok if I open it?”

“Oh.” The ghost of a smile flickers across my face. “Yeah, that’s fine. The monitor should be in the right outermost pocket.”

I listen intently as my bag is unzipped and Jin begins trying to work the heart monitor. A few people help him with it, while someone else says something about grabbing a chair. About a minute of silence passes before Jungkook’s timid voice rings out.

“Um...Miss Choi?”

“Yeah?”

“What is your heart rate at right now?”

Yuri holds the actual heart monitor, and she quickly consults it before answering. “Haneul’s is currently at 162, it appears to be dropping at a consistent rate. What’s Jin’s?”

Before Jungkook can answer, somebody else arrives. There are low voices consulting outside the door; one of them I recognize as Sejin. I’m about to start pounding on the door and demanding answers when the newcomer speaks up.

“Yuri, are you in there?”

Yuri jumps up. “I am. Is everything ok out there?” When I give her a questioning look, she mouths ‘senior assistant’ to me. I let out a long sigh, feeling a little relieved to know that someone legitimely qualified is out there with Jin.

“Jin is doing fine, however his heart rate is still abnormally high. Jungkook told me Miss Choi is coming down from 162. Is that still the case?”

“She’s down to 158 now, still dropping as it should.”

There’s a long pause before he speaks again. “It would appear that Seokjin here is having a harder time getting his heart rate under control. He’s stuck.”

If my heart wasn’t still beating so fast it would have probably spiked from the panic that sets in. Resting my hand on the doorknob as though it will magically unlock at any given second, I ask what I know I must.

“May I know what his heart rate is, sir?”

“You’re the soulmate?” He sounds a bit uncertain, but Yuri steps in before I decide to break down the door and strangle him.

“She is, but she’s also a highly trained central assistant. Haneul is in control of herself, there’s no need to worry.”

Yuri sounds firm enough that it leaves no room for argument. I make a mental note to buy her dinner or something after all of this blows over.

“Alright,” he sighs. “Seokjin is maintaining a heart rate of 198.”

I gasp before putting my hand over my mouth. “198?” I hiss, whirling to look at Yuri. She has a cool and calm expression on like a mask, but I can see right through her. I would be doing the same thing if I were her; but I’m not.

This is the moment I’ve been waiting for my entire life; it’s the moment I was just dreaming about last night! Yet I should have known that it wouldn’t be so easy. Not only is my soulmate one of the most recognizable idols in the world, he’s also experiencing what is commonly referred to as “stationary shock”.

In other words, Jin has something going on in his head or heart that has him staying in the initial wave of shock that usually only lasts the first 60 seconds.

Yuri is asking questions, but it sounds like she’s speaking underwater. While she’s doing her best to understand the situation, I ease the heart monitor from her hands and stare down at the numbers there.

Instead of continuing to decrease, my numbers remain the same as well. This is what I was expecting; Jin’s predicament directly affects my own. How can I relax when I know that he’s on the other side of that door in a state of shock, unable to calm down?

My feet carry me away from the door, wandering over to a nearby window. Standing before it, I notice with a start that it’s beginning to snow.

The clouds, heavy with water, have decided to gently let go of their burden.

Perhaps I’ve lost just enough sanity to start pondering the lives of nimbus clouds, because suddenly my mind is rushing with the possibilities of the clouds before me.

Just like that, my mind begins to race with all the information I’ve learned over the years about stationary shock. Usually the people who experience it are the same ones that have a history of anxiety when it comes to the topic of soulmates.

There’s a famous example of a couple from the 1960’s that had an encounter similar to anybody else’s; except for the fact that the woman's heart rate refused to come down. What usually takes fifteen minutes ended up going over the three hour mark.

Little things brought her heart rate down: talking to her friends, drinking water, and voicing her thoughts. However, what ended up being her saving grace was her soulmate who took matters into his own hands and talked her down. From their conversation soulmate specialists were able to deduce that she had major anxiety in regard to soulmates due to personal issues. It was only as she was able to open up to her actual soulmate that her heart rate was able to come back down and away from physical harm.

As I watch the snowflakes drift through the sky, I come to the root of it all.

“I have to make him snow,” I mumble. Turning around to where Yuri remains talking through the door, I wave to get her attention.

It takes her a moment, she’s clearly focusing hard on the issue at hand. The hint of a smile cracks her icy expression before she walks over to me.

“What’s up?”

“I think I have to make him snow.”

Yuri tilts her head to one side, looking at me quizzically. “Snow? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“He’s going through stationary shock, isn’t he?” Once she nods, I continue on in my plea. “Don’t you think this could be like that couple, you know, from the 60’s? We need to get him to snow...you know, open up. Let everything go.”

She hesitates, entertaining the idea for a moment. “First we need to go through the normal procedures; chances are the normal steps will bring him down a bit.” Yuri stops me before I can jump into action. “Everyone is bringing up different items for him to go through, Mr. Chung is having him drink some water and stretch right now. Let’s just see how that goes first, alright?”

I look at her incredulously. “Who on earth is Mr. Chung?!”

Yuri laughs, “The senior soulmate assistant, loser. So let’s just let him do his job before we try to pry the nasty truth from your soulmate, ok?”

Blushing madly at the casual way Yuri mentions my soulmate, I give her a reluctant nod. “Fine. But if he’s not better in ten minutes, everybody leaves and I get to do it my way.”

“Let’s say twenty.”

Glaring, I clench my jaw. “Fifteen.”

Yuri sighs before walking back over to the door. “I’ll see what I can do.”

☆

Focusing on the five senses is the first thing all soulmate assistants are taught to do when faced with stationary shock. It helps the person to calm down when they can focus on one thing at a time.

First: Sight.

“Ok Seokjin, my grandchildren have a horrible habit of making fun of how many crooked teeth I have,” Mr. Chung starts. He sounds ultra calm and soothing, I find myself sitting before the door again and being lulled into a calming state just by the sound of his voice. “I’m going to give you my best smile, please pay attention and tell me if my grandchildren are right.”

A few seconds pass before Jin says anything. “You have a lovely smile.”

“Thank you very much, that means a lot coming from an idol such as yourself. Shall we move on to the next step?”

Second: Sound.

“Would you like to listen to some music? Perhaps there’s a piece that helps you to think clearly-”

“No.” Jin’s voice is solid as he rejects the idea. “No music, please.”

Ok, scratch that.

Mr. Chung goes through the other senses, bringing up some tea for Jin to drink and taste, wafting smellings salts under his nose, even bringing up an RJ for him to hold and touch. We’re coming up on fifteen minutes when I give Yuri a knowing look.

“Yuri, Mr. Chung...this is crossing into dangerous territory,” I squeak out, trying to breathe properly. “I think it might be best to give Jin some space for a little while.”

Yuri stares at the door, waiting for Mr. Chung to speak. Holding my breath, I drop my head in my hands and stare down at the floor even as tears prick at my eyes.

This must be my punishment for not being patient enough to just wait for my soulmate.

Right now, sitting so close and yet being undeniably separate, I feel that this is the consequence for not trusting fate enough to just trust its timing.

Now that I’ve fought and clawed my way to the top, I’ve put my soulmate in danger. My heart begins to tear itself apart as I realize that while I’ve been ready for years to meet him, my soulmate was not.

Jin wasn’t ready, and I’ve taken that away from him.

Hot tears are threatening to spill out onto my cheeks, but I brush them away before they get the chance. This isn’t about me, this isn’t the time for self-pity. This is about making sure Jin comes out of this alright.

“Han?” Yuri taps my shoulder, handing me something. I look down to see it’s a paging device. “We’re going, but if you need us, press this button. We’ll be just down the hall.”

I gape up at her, surprised that my request was granted. “You’re actually leaving?” Suddenly my stomach suddenly sinks as I realize that I didn’t really think past this point. “What am I supposed to do?” I whisper.

Yuri fixes my hair, giving me a glowing smile. “There’s a reason he’s your soulmate, Han. Just do what feels right.”

If I wasn’t nearly sobbing before, I definitely am now. Trying my best to swallow my emotions, I nod at her. Yuri walks over to the door, knocking on it.

“We’re ready on this side.”

There’s a few footsteps outside the door and I imagine they’re moving Jin away. For good measure I turn away from the door. The last thing we need is face-to-face contact jolting our heart rate again. I’m not sure how much more I can take of this; let alone Jin.

The sound of the door unlocking reverberates through my entire system, and I cling to the chair I’m sitting on for dear life.

“Quickly, quickly,” Mr. Chung instructs. A moment later, the door shuts and locks again. I can hardly breathe as I hear them moving away, a muffled conversation taking place between Mr. Chung and Jin.

Then all is silent.

Suddenly alone in the room I gaze down at my monitor, watching at my heart rate jumps around a bit before settling back down at 142.

Still too high.

According to Mr. Chung, Jin’s heart rate came down a little bit during the 5 senses procedures, however it was still dangerously high. If everything has stayed the same he should be hovering around 160.

My ears strain to hear if Jin has returned to the door, but I hear nothing. As the seconds tick by I become more and more concerned, remembering my thoughts from earlier.

Jin clearly was not ready to find his soulmate. As far as I know, he had some major issues to work through before we met.

How am I supposed to feel right now?

How am I supposed to react when I’ve finally met the person I’ve been searching for my entire life, only to find that they weren’t ready to receive me?

The question that I’ve buried deep down for the entirety of my life comes bubbling back up to the surface in the face of this new dilemma.

Am I somehow too much?

As I get up out of my chair and sit with my back to the door, I stare out the window at the growing winter storm.

How many times have I wished to let myself go like that? No more small flurries that have people stopping to enjoy before scurrying on; I want to let go of everything I’ve learned and held inside until it’s a blizzard that has cars stopping and school cancelled because to ignore the blizzard is to ignore me.

My vision is blurry as I look down at my hands, almost expecting to see snowflakes falling from them.

Fate is a funny thing. It decided to pair me; a reserved girl with an endless internal blizzard raging and Jin. Jin, the man that flaunts himself with no reserve and infinite confidence.

I wonder if Jin has ever looked inside himself and felt like he was too much. The thought is a comforting one.

A slight push against the door notifies me to the presence of someone else sitting on the other side. Back to back, with only a slab of wood between us, my soulmate and I huff out a sigh at the same time.

It takes me by surprise, and it clearly does for him too. Jin chuckles, the sound sending a thrill through me despite my depressing thoughts. I chew on the inside of my lip, thinking of what to say.

The voice of my friend who found her soulmate years ago comes to my mind, taking me off guard. “And you think he isn’t ready to be found? Nobody ever is. But I can guarantee that the two of you are both ready to be loved.”

Like a lightbulb turning on over my head, I realize that I’ve been worrying over the wrong thing. Sure, maybe Jin wasn’t ready to be found yet. But if I’ve met him doesn't that mean that I should love him regardless?

“Hey Seokjin.”

Leaning my head back and closing my eyes, I can almost hear Jin’s deep breaths. No doubt he’s still trying to breathe deeply so he can get his heart under control.

“Hey Haneul.”

Those two words are enough to have me floating off the ground, a silly grin spreading across my features.

“Do you still have RJ over there?”

“Oh yeah, he’s right here.”

“Is he doing alright?”

Jin chuckles. “He said he’s fine. How are you?”

“I’m ok, I think.” My eyes drift open again and stray back to the window. “Did you know that it’s snowing right now?”

“Really?” Jin sounds strangely familiar, like we do this all the time. “Is it just a little?”

I shake my head even though he can’t see me. “No, it started slow but now it’s really coming down.”

“Good.” I would never be able to guess that Jin is still going through a bout of tachycardia judging from his even tone of voice. “I’d rather it be a blizzard than anything.”

“Me too!” I exclaim. “Much more satisfying.”

“Mm.”

It’s silent again, but this time I don’t feel like the walls are caving in on me. A quick glance at my monitor has me smiling.

I’m down to 135. Once we reach 80 we can open the door.

My heart rate spikes again at the thought of opening the door, and I take a deep breath to calm down.

“Would you describe it to me?” Jin’s voice is quiet, but I hear it clearly in the silence of the room.

“The snowstorm?”

“Yes.” He’s quiet for another moment before adding, “Please.”

Squinting, I stare out the window. “The snow is white.”

The door rumbles as Jin laughs. “We both know that’s not what I meant.”

Laughing to myself, I try to come up with something poetic for my soulmate. “Like I said earlier, it started off slowly. I could see that each snowflake was individual as they came down. Now, they’re in clusters, all big and fluffy. The kind that people try to catch on their tongues, you know?”

“Ooh, right.”

I pause, trying to figure out what else to say. “It makes it look not so cold. Earlier it looked kind of miserable and freezing, but now with all the snow coming down it just makes me want to walk around outside. It’ll be warmer, and quiet.”

Jin hums in acknowledgement. “I like it when it’s quiet after it snows.”

“Me too.”

“That’s probably why we’re…” Jin trails off, and I understand why he doesn’t say it. Just to even think about being soulmates with him has my heart clenching.

“Yeah, probably.” I supply.

“So how’s your first day at your new job going?”

I croak out a laugh, rolling my eyes. “Do you want the honest answer or the lie?”

“Both, please.”

How is he so polite even in teasing? The media has always portrayed him as a free spirit that doesn’t care much about what others think, and yet he’s said please more times in the past twenty minutes than I’ve heard all week.

“It’s great, thanks for asking.”

It’s quiet before Jin speaks up again. “Which one was that?”

I shrug, my shoulders rubbing up against the door. “Probably both, I haven’t decided yet.”

Jin’s laugh sounds loud and clear, but I can’t help but wonder what it would sound like if there wasn’t a door between the two of us right now.

The minutes pass as we continue to chat, each minute bringing my heart rate down a bit more. Once I reach 100, I let out a shout of triumph.

“What happened?” Jin asks.

“I hit 100! What are you at?”

It’s quiet for a long time before Jin responds. “Do you want the honest answer or the lie?”

My stomach drops but I try to keep my tone light. “Honesty is always the best policy.”

“It says 154.”

My eyes grow wide as I sit straight up, wincing as my tailbone feels sore from sitting on the hard floor for so long.

Jin hasn’t hardly dropped at all and it’s been...18 minutes since we were left alone.

“You’re not saying anything.”

I scramble to come up with something to say, but I don’t want to push him too hard. How am I supposed to get someone to open up to me that I only met thirty minutes ago?

Honesty is the best policy, I guess. “I just thought we were getting along well, that’s all.”

I wish I knew Jin well enough to picture what expression he’s wearing right now, but all I can imagine are his wide eyes as he reached out to me when we first saw each other.

“No, we are,” Jin reassures me, guilt evident in his voice.

Turning around to sit cross-legged before the door, I stare it down like I can see through it to Jin. “So...what are you still so freaked out about?”

Jin doesn’t answer, but I hear him shuffling about and suddenly a card slips under the door. I grab it, flipping it over.

“We’re going to have to open this door eventually, aren’t we?” Jin asks as I study the photocard he just pushed under the door.

“What does Jimin’s photocard have to do with that?”

In response another card slips under the door, followed by another and another until I have six photo cards spread out before me. I’m about to ask where his own photo is until it comes flying under the door, Jin’s serious face looking up at me from where he sits in the picture.

Adding it to the collection before me, I furrow my brows, still not understanding what he’s trying to say.

“I’m assuming you’ve heard of me, right?” Before I can answer, Jin continues speaking. There’s an edge to his voice now as his anxiety makes an appearance. “You’ve probably seen photos just like these for years now. People say that we look beautiful, like some fallen gods or something. Untouchable, yet so many can’t seem to keep away.”

Biting down on the questions I have brimming in my mind, I allow Jin to continue without interrupting.

“This is what people are trained to see. Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice to be loved. But they just don’t get it. If they could see past all of this - the photos, the extravagant clothes and performances, even the funny shows! If they could see this. Right now, me cowering on one side of a door, hiding from my s...soulmate, they wouldn’t want anything to do with me.”

“That’s not true.”

“You have to say that! You’re my soulmate!” Jin’s voice rises in desperation, making me wince. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell.”

“It’s ok,” I breathe out. “Go on.”

Jin pauses before speaking again. “I’m not like everyone else. I wasn’t meant for this life. I’m not saying that I’m not grateful for every second of it; I am. It’s brought me more joy than I ever thought possible, but have you ever stared into the faces of thousands of people who love you and do everything for you, and just knew, deep down, that you don’t deserve it?” Jin is nearly panting as he asks the question again. “Have you, Haneul? Have you ever had millions of people love you but it leaves you wide awake every night staring at the ceiling because no matter how you do the math, there is no way you can ever make it up to them? I don’t deserve this, but you do deserve to know that I am not everything I’ve been portrayed to be.”

Suddenly I find myself wishing for rain rather than snow. The snow is silent as it falls, right now I need rain to pound against the windows and roof, to drown out the ache in my chest as I listen to Jin’s voice shake.

“I...I can’t open this door for you, Haneul. Because what you’ll see is so much less than what you’re expecting, and I can’t stand it.”

I never thought it was possible to drown on dry land, but as I gasp for air I find that there is none. I’m drowning beneath the emotions that Jin has thrown out into the void with such disdain, I’m drowning with the knowledge that I don’t know.

I don’t know what it feels like to be loved by people I’ve never met and still feel like I’m not enough. My own problem seems to wither in the face of Jin’s; feeling like I have to hold back just so I can fit into normal society.

As I stare down at the photos, I wonder which is worse: not feeling worthy of an unconditional love, or knowing nobody will ever love you for who you truly are.

Perhaps it doesn’t matter which is worse. At the end of the day, we’re both hurting.

Slowly gathering up the photo cards, I push them back under the door one by one. Jin says nothing as he collects them.

“First,” my voice is thick with emotion but I push through. “I have heard about you. I’ve seen your face literally everywhere, it’s exhausting to think that I was staring at my soulmate this entire time without knowing it was actually you. On the bright side, now I don’t feel so guilty for thinking that you were cute.”

Jin’s dry laugh tells me that he’s not feeling much better and is certainly not much more inclined to open this door.

“Second, I have no idea what that’s like. It sounds...terrifying and beautiful and just weird. Do you actually have that many fans?” I shake my head. “That’s not the point. You’re worried that I won’t want you because you’re not the ‘Jin’ that the world knows?”

Jin gives a muffled response that I interpret as a yes.

“In what world would that make you less in my eyes? I was never expecting to be paired with a world-renowned star and you feeling so inadequate about it all only confirms that I’m not paired with one!” My voice rises as my heart starts to pump harder. “In all reality, I’ve somehow been paired up with a person that’s normal enough to realize that they’re in way over their head, but they’re brave enough to keep swimming. So instead of tiring yourself out and refusing to let me see you for who you are, why don’t you let me throw you a life jacket or something?”

Jin sounds defensive as he questions me. “What are you even saying?”

“I’m making an analogy, Seokjin, let me think.”

He lets out a startled laugh, not saying anything else. As I ponder what to say that can have any sort of effect on him, I remember the storm outside.

Stretching and scooting even closer to the door, I close my eyes against the rising embarrassment. “Just, this is how I think about things sometimes. Hear me out, ok? Then you can decide how you want to do this. It’s your decision as much as it is mine, I won’t force you to do anything you’re not comfortable with. I promise.” I barely make it through my promise, squeezing my eyes extra tight in hopes that he won’t just decide to get up and leave right now.

“...I’ll listen.”

Rubbing the temples of my forehead, I send up a silent prayer that this will make sense.

“It’s snowing, right? I think you might be like those clouds outside right now. You’ve traveled all over the world, picking up little bits and pieces along the way. So many have looked up at you, wishing they could be up there in the sky with you. You’d love to bring them up with you, wouldn’t you? But it’s impossible for a cloud to pick up a person and carry them to the sky.”

“Ok,” Jin interrupts, and I notice with no small amount of relief that he almost sounds like he’s smiling. “I get where you’re going with this, but first I just have to say that I can’t believe you’re comparing me to a cloud.”

“Are you quite finished?” I quip out, grinning.

“For now.”

Sighing, I continue on. “Well, you’re afraid of what people might see if you let go. They’re so used to clear blue skies that you don’t want to scare them away with a bit of bad weather. Sure, sometimes you can send down a few snowflakes. You know, the kind of flurry that melts by morning. People like that, the snowflakes are beautiful and it let’s them know that you’re living in the same miserable world as the rest of them.”

“But?”

“But I think you’re like me. There’s so much going on inside of you; like doubting you deserve everything you’ve been given. You’ve become so good at managing your persona that you’ve forgotten how to let go when you need to. And you’ve forgotten that your soulmate is the one person guaranteed to not mind at all when you feel like everything is too heavy to hold onto anymore. I wouldn’t even bat an eye. It’s normal to feel that the weight of people’s love is sometimes too heavy to bear, Seokjin.”

I’m not sure if I should wait for him to respond, but I sit there quietly as I collect my thoughts. A glance back at the window shows the snow coming down in those same thick clusters as before, the world outside turned into a sheet of white.

Lost in my thoughts, I don’t even realize that minutes pass in silence. This small sliver of time has become infinite for the two of us. We’re too busy looking up at the clouds in our minds and wondering if today will be the day they rage and storm to notice a thing as trivial as time.

“Haneul?”

Jin’s voice brings me back to reality, the door a cruel reminder to our predicament.

“Yeah?”

I can hear him shuffling around again before he speaks. “What if when I start, I can’t stop?”

How do I tell him that I don’t have an answer? I’ve wondered the same thing my entire life.

“I...I’ve thought the same thing.” I admit.

“Really? About yourself?”

“Yeah, of course. Actually, I bet everybody has. But I’ve never heard about anyone going insane from venting their emotions and being honest before, so I think you’ll be able to stop.”

Jin breathes deep, and I wonder if he’s breathing better now. I don’t want to ask what his heart rate is just yet.

“And...you’ll be with me, right?”

I chuckle. “Yeah, with the lifejacket, remember?”

Jin joins in the laughter, the sound easing up some of the stress laid on my shoulders. “You need to decide if we’re talking about clouds or swimming.”

“Right, right.”

What I hope Jin is starting to understand is that I’ll willingly jump in alongside him and swim the length of the ocean if it means he’ll open the door.

It’s been so long, I want to say. I’ve been waiting for you for so long. Can’t you open up?

“See, what I can’t believe is that you didn’t keep my photo card.”

I look at the door with an incredulous expression. “Are you kidding me?! You hypocrite, you need to decide if you’re an arrogant idol or tortured soul!”

We burst out into laughter, amazed at the strangeness of the situation.

“What, I can’t be both?” Jin asks, still laughing.

“Whatever. Do what you want. You don’t happen to have a cushion that you could slide under the door, do you?”

“No, no cushions over here. I feel your pain though; these tile floors are merciless.”

I hum in agreement, switching positions so my legs don’t go numb. It’s quiet for a little while before I yawn, suddenly exhausted by the events of the day.

“So…” Jin starts. “What made you want to become a soulmate assistant?”

I purse my lips, wondering where to even begin. “I’ve always been fascinated by the idea of soulmates, I guess. Why we have them, what their function is, what leads us to them. It just made sense to pursue a degree in soulmate studies, and then obviously this was the next step.”

“So you just applied for Bighit out of the blue?”

Shaking my head, my eyes drift shut as I try to figure out a way to explain this in a way that doesn’t make me sound crazy. “I applied on purpose, it wasn’t just some random job to me. It made sense. I wanted to travel the world...find my soulmate along the way. This job provided the perfect opportunity to do just that.”

Jin must be changing his position as well, I hear him groan a little on the other side. “Well, congrats. You found him, and all within the comfort of Seoul!”

I chuckle, nodding. “That’s right. Now I think it’d be nice to travel, though. I think I’ll be able to enjoy it more.”

“Where do you want to go?”

There’s a part of me that wants to ask if he’s going to join me, but I bite back the comment for now.

“Honestly, I’m not sure. Before, I just wanted to go everywhere. It gave me higher chances of finding my soulmate. Now, though, I’m just realizing that I’ve never thought about going somewhere for the fun of it. Do you have any suggestions?”

“I might have a couple.” Jin pauses. “You really wanted to find me that badly?”

My cheeks burn with embarrassment at his question. “I..yeah, I guess I did. But I was also terrified of finding you.”

“Really?” Jin’s tone is so curious, it makes me smile. “Why would you be scared of finding me?”

I roll my eyes, wanting to tell him that he was obviously scared of being found. Instead I just answer him. “I was worried that you didn’t want to be found.”

It’s silent as Jin processes the new information. I begin to wonder if I’ve made him uncomfortable with my honesty, I can hear him taking slow, deep breaths.

“I’m sorry.”

The way he’s apologizing I know that he really didn’t want to be found. Letting out a dry laugh, I apologize as well. “I’m sorry, too.”

Jin moves around outside, I can feel the door moving under his weight. “This is weird, isn’t it?”

“I mean,” I start, grinning at his innocent view on things. “If you think about it, this is really just another day for me. This is my job, after all.”

Jin snorts. “Don’t tell me you’ve been in this position before.”

I shake my head, forgetting that he can’t see me. “No, never quite like this.”

“Can I…” His voice trails off while I strain to listen, making sure to not miss a single syllable. “Would it be weird if I took you to dinner tonight? You know, to celebrate your first day at your big new job.”

There’s a part of me that wants to tease him for asking me out before even opening the door, but there’s a part of me that’s too busy melting at his kind gesture to say anything of the sort.

“On one condition.”

“Yeah, I know,” Jin huffs. “We’ll open the door soon, I’m almost down to where I should be-”

My laugh cuts him off. “Well, yeah, I guess that’s a pretty good idea but I wasn’t going to say that.”

“Oh.”

“I’ll let you take me anywhere if you give your photocard back.” I jump away from the door as I hear loud noises from the other side, the door itself shaking. “What is going-”

My question is answered as Jin’s photocard is shoved under the door, a bit crumpled but worth it. I can’t keep in my laughter at Jin’s eagerness, Jin himself cracking up.

“I’m so glad you didn’t ask for someone else’s,” he pants, making me laugh even more. Carefully smoothing it out, I place it between my phone case and phone. Slipping my phone back into my pocket, I sneak a glance at my monitor.

72.

“Hey…” I hate to have to ask, in fear of what the answer may be, but I have to. “Has your heart rate come down at all?”

When I hear his machine beeping, I start to panic.

“Seokjin? Seokjin what’s-”

“Sorry,” Jin’s sheepish voice floats through the door. “I took it off a little while ago, I’m just booting it back up.”

I’m completely frozen, staring holes through the door. Slapping my hands against it, I vent my anger with him for nearly giving me a heart attack.

“Don't” bang! “do” bang! “that to me!”

The classic windshield wiper laugh that I’ve come to associate with Jin is what answers me, making me roll my eyes and slump back down. A few more seconds pass as Jin fiddles with the machine, trying to get it to read his heart rate.

“Hey!” He shouts excitedly. “I’m ok!”

This has me straightening right up. “Really? What does it say?”

“77!”

I gasp, grabbing the paging device but stopping before I can press it. “Wait, so you’re feeling better now, right?”

Jin laughs, the sound much lighter than before. I can almost feel his relief through the door. “Yeah, I’m great.”

“So...can I get out of this room now?”

The second I ask the question I curse myself, wishing I hadn’t. I probably should have talked to him a bit more, prepared him more before I threw this onto him.

Jin is quiet as he speaks. “But then what happens?”

I chew on my cheek as I ponder how to best prepare him for the rest of the day. “Well, we say hi to each other first. I’ll probably show you where the loose thread is on your sweater, it’s been driving me crazy this entire time.”

He laughs. “You noticed that?”

“Yeah, I did. I’m sure I have food on my face or something, don’t I? That would be just my luck.”

“No, you don’t.” Then, quieter, “You’re perfect.”

As a blush overtakes my face I choose to pretend I didn’t hear him. “We’ll have to go through the typical procedures, you know, going over the packet I have in my bag that’s for new soulmates, that kind of stuff. We actually have a really boring day ahead of us, Seokjin.”

“Just Jin.”

I blink at the door. “Oh, o-ok.” Then, “I’m just Han, if you want.”

“Like Han Solo?” I hit the door again, making Jin laugh. “Kidding, kidding.”

We chat for a couple more minutes, going over the plans for the day. It’s as I’m finishing to explain the trust exercises we’ll have to perform that Jin interrupts me.

“Sorry, but I just realized that I’d much rather have this conversation face to face. If you don’t mind.”

My eyebrows jump up at how confident he sounds. “Really? You’re sure?”

“I’m sure. Just, go easy on me, ok? I’m not all I’m cracked up to be.” He tries to brush it off as a joke, but it’s clear that he’s still feeling a little insecure. I guess that’s something I’ll just have to help him with over time, starting with today.

Pressing the pager, I smile as I watch the snow fall. “As long as we fix your sweater, I’m happy.”

Jin is laughing, claiming he can’t find any loose thread when the sound of footsteps approaching stops him.

“How’s it going, Seokjin?” Mr. Chung’s happy tone greets him.

“It’s going pretty well,” Jin politely replies. “I think we’re both ready to get up from off the floor.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Yuri’s voice rings out. “We should have brought you a chair, that’s all our fault.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jin responds as he groans getting up from the floor. “You don’t have to worry about me. Han, on the other hand, is a little intense. You might want to watch out for her analogies.”

“Hey!” I shout as everyone laughs. Mr. Chung checks Jin’s heart rate, making sure everything is clear and ready to go. Getting up from the floor, I smooth out my clothes. I head over to the window area again, checking my hair in the reflection.

Looking up at the snowy sky I hear the door unlock.

Whirling around, I stare at it as though it might suddenly come to life and attack me. When a soft knock sounds, I jump back.

It opens just enough for Yuri to stick her head in, grinning once she sees me.

“Hey, are you ok if we just use this room for the rest of this day? Or do you wanna switch?”

I’m mute, waiting to see my soulmate. I just shrug, letting her know that I don’t care. Thankfully Yuri is an expert in anxious soulmates, so she interprets my meaning just fine.

“You can head in, Seokjin.” Yuri says as she heads back out, leaving the door slightly ajar.

I cling to the window frame, knuckles white as I stare out at the storm. Focusing on breathing in and out, I don’t even notice that Jin has entered the room until I see his reflection in the window.

The world moves slowly for a moment as I look up at him in the window, his hands fidgeting at his sides as he waits for me to turn around.

His cheeks are pink, the periwinkle color of his sweater offsetting his dark brown hair that he has swept back. He’s chewing on the inside of his cheek like I am, causing his lips to pout.

“We might not be able to go out and eat if it keeps snowing like that,” Jin breathes out. Even though we were a mere inches apart before, the only thing keeping us apart being a door, I can’t help but hold my breath as I hear him speak.

Taking a deep drink of whatever courage I have left in me, I turn to look at him over my shoulder.

He almost looks away upon meeting eyes with me, but something keeps him planted where he is in my gaze.

“That’s alright,” I mumble, eyes sweeping over his face and heart clenching as I see him shifting from one foot to another, clearly uncomfortable to be under such direct scrutiny. “I don’t mind cooking.”

Jin gives me a soft close-lipped smile, his cheeks rounding out. “Me neither.”

I turn back to the window, standing on my tiptoes as I watch the people scurrying below. One person is trudging along holding more bags than I thought humanly possible, making me smile.

“Come look at this,” I wave Jin over, hoping to let him know that my attention is no longer solely on him.

Jin ambles over, pausing for a moment a few steps behind me before taking the last couple of steps. I point down at the person holding their bags, grinning as another person stops to help them.

Through the reflection in the window I can tell that Jin isn’t watching them at all, his head pointed down but his eyes looking over at me. Something tells me that if he knew I saw him, he’d pass out right here and now, so I pretend to not know.

As the two people share the load of bags and walk toward the nearest bus stop, I sigh. “See? There are still good people out in the world.”

My hands are still clinging to the window frame, my tight grip the one thing that gives my anxiety away. To my eternal shock, Jin raises one shaky hand to my own, his warm hand resting over mine before gently detaching it from the window and smoothing it out.

Neither one of us dares to breathe as he repeats the action with my other hand, taking extra care to smooth out my clenched fingers before releasing them.

I look up at my soulmate, my exhausted heart managing to pick up some speed as I find him looking down at me already, his eyes alight with stars.

His voice is low as he mumbles out, “You’re different from what I thought you’d be.”

The way he’s looking at me feels like walking out into the world the morning after a blizzard, everything hushed and glittering. It has this way of making my own thoughts quiet down, focusing on just this one thing.

I’m not sure how to put anything into words, so I just smile up at him. “That’s good, right?”

Jin nods, a bit of his hair falling forward with the action. “Yes.”

My attention returns to the snow outside once I see the tips of his ears going red. My smile is reflected in the glass, and my heart stutters as I see Jin’s mesmerized smile mirror my own. Locking eyes in the hazy reflection, I laugh a little.

“What’s so funny?” Jin asks, turning to look at me.

Shaking my head, I look down at my shoes before glancing up at him. “I’m probably not what you expected because I compared you to a cloud.”

He grins, looking down at his shoes before glancing up at me. “Yeah, that stung a little. I try very hard to maintain a nice figure, and yet here you are, comparing me with a big, fat fluffy thing.”

Laughing at his offended expression, I shrug. “I had to come up with something! It’s weird; for all the times I’ve dreamed about meeting my soulmate, I’ve never come up with what to say. That was the best I could do under pressure.”

“No, you did great, really.” He smiles easily now, feeling a bit more comfortable. “You’ve never really thought of what to say, though?”

I shake my head. “No, have you?”

Jin gives me a long look before nodding. “Oh yeah, definitely.”

“Let’s hear it, then.” I nudge him, Jin swaying on his feet as though I had shoved him across the room. I roll my eyes at his dramatic manner, loving every second of it.

“I’ll tell you under one condition.”

“What?”

Jin sighs, coming to stand behind me. The hairs on the back of my neck stand straight up with goosebumps as he brings his arms around me, gently grabbing my hands and slowly bringing them up to cover my eyes.

“You’re not allowed to look at me while I say it.”

He keeps his hands over mine as they rest over my eyes, effectively shutting out the rest of the world. I keep in my laugh, not wanting to deter him.

“Ok, I won’t peek.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

“Good.” Jin’s voice is low and quiet as I nearly jolt out of my skin when I realize just how close he is. He waits to make sure my hands aren’t going to move from my eyes before he removes his hands, one coming to rest on the small of my back before he moves away. I’m left feeling suddenly cold, almost reaching out for him but reminding myself to stay still.

His voice comes from before me, just off to the right as he begins to speak. I can almost picture him leaning against the windowsill, watching me with those bright eyes.

“I’m not extraordinarily talented at a lot of things,” Jin starts, the sound of his voice immediately begging me to gravitate toward him. “I can’t paint you beautiful things or write you award winning songs, because sometimes the things that go on inside my head can’t be translated onto paper. I might not be able to sing for you the way you’d like, because my voice has a tendency to shake when I’m alone with someone I care about.”

Warmth fills my chest at his words even as I want to tell him that none of it matters. His lack of skill in all areas of life is only natural, and I have a sneaking suspicion that he’s better at it all than he lets on.

“I’ve been learning to play the piano, but I’m no Beethoven. If I mess up the keys it’s because I can feel you looking at me, and I just can’t help it.” Jin pauses, taking a shaky breath. “There might be times when I can’t be there for you, because I’m over on the other side of the world on some stage, but there are a few things that I can promise you I’m good at.”

Jin’s hands are warm as they wrap about my own, slowly pulling my hands away from my eyes. I blink them open, looking up to see my soulmate standing before me, still leaning up against the windowsill just as I pictured. His cheeks are pink as he looks down to where he holds my hands in his, making no move to let go.

“I can work the knots out of your shoulders when you have a long day at work, and I promise to remember your favorite meal. When we’re far away from each other, I’ll send you annoying messages every chance I get so you know that I’m thinking of you.” I chuckle a little, the sound bringing Jin’s eyes back up to my face. “I’ll keep the receipts for everything I ever buy you. The dishes won’t be left in the sink overnight, and I’m really good at listening.”

My vision begins to blur as tears threaten to spill over, but Jin doesn’t stop. The snow falling behind him frames him in a winter wonderland, and my mind burns the image into my memory.

“I’m not very good at much, but I’ll be good to you.”

Staring at him, I start to see the pieces that Jin hides from everyone else. I squeeze his hands, pledging to take the time to learn everything that there is to discover about him.

My eyes drift down to land on the single loose thread on the collar of his sweater, and I laugh even as a tear escapes me.

Reaching up to pluck the thread, I give my soulmate a wink which he immediately returns almost out of habit.

“You remember asking me how my first day of work was going?” When he nods, looking a bit confused, I continue. “I know what the honest answer is, now.”

Jin looks intrigued as he gives me a shy smile. “What is it?”

Stepping in a bit closer, I pull his arms around me before lightly feathering through his hair. “Pretty great.”

The last thing I see before Jin leans forward to plant a delicate kiss to my forehead are the clouds that have finally stopped snowing, no longer weighed down by their heavy burden.

Fin.

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cheri-translates · 5 years ago

Text

Watermelon (a translated one-shot)

I translated this fluffy and mildly suggestive one-shot originally written by 八重垂樱 on Weibo, with permission

Contains references to four e-mails from Gavin’s 100 Days Event. They don’t spoil anything about the main storyline, but don’t continue if you’re averse to anything CN-related!

“Eli took a trip to the countryside and returned with several watermelons. He left us one each...”

“And then?”

Expressionless, your arms are folded across your chest as you look Gavin up and down, noting the sheen of sweat on his forehead. Seeing the way you’re glaring at him, the tips of his ears are tinged with a red hue, and he starts tripping up on his words.

“You know that the fridge at my place isn’t very large, so it can’t hold two watermelons... and watermelons spoil easily when left out. So why not eat it while it’s still fresh? So... so I specially rushed over to bring it to you...”

As he says this, his eyes flit upwards to meet yours. He seems to be pleading for sympathy, and it makes you feel infuriated yet tempted to laugh at the same time.

You deliberately maintain a cold expression on your face and accept the watermelon. “Got it. I’ll take the watermelon, and please thank Eli on my behalf. You can leave now.”

“Ahem. I...”

Gavin freezes, then holds onto the door frame, afraid you’d shut the door on him. With this sight before you, you no longer suppress the laughter bubbling to the surface, and you chuckle.

“Come in, blockhead.”

You stuff the watermelon back into his arms, then pull him into the apartment, letting the door shut behind you.

The cold war began a few days ago. Officer Gavin, who had promised you ten thousand times that he’d take care of himself, led a fleet of men into the midst of out-of-control Evolvers for the ten thousand and one time.

The worst part was that he tried hiding his injuries from you. Upon leaving the hospital after getting his wounds bandaged, he pretended that nothing had happened, accompanying you to Loveland High to visit Mr Keller.

If your suspicions weren’t raised when he kept refusing the glass of wine from Mr Keller’s wife during the meal, he would have hid it from you forever!

Your mind was preoccupied for the rest of the meal. After finding an excuse to leave, you said goodbye to Mr Keller and dragged Gavin back to his apartment. Then, you forced him to take off his clothes to let you check for injuries.

After confirming that his injuries were not life-threatening, you gave him a harsh glare. Without waiting for the man - who now knew that he was in the wrong - to stop you, you grabbed your bag and slammed the door.

Just like that, the two of you entered a cold war.

On the first day of the cold war, Commander Gavin sent a message:

“Thorny hasn’t had much energy recently. I think you might need to visit him.”

You replied: Maybe it’s grieving over Greenie, who didn’t know how to take care of itself properly.

On the second day of the cold war, Commander Gavin sent a message:

“Minor recommended a gift. After checking its reviews on shopping websites, I think he’s not reliable.”

You replied: Minor also recommended a new flavour of cup noodles. Commander, please enjoy it by yourself.

On the third day of the cold war, Commander Gavin sent a message:

“The wind says that you’re always staying in the office. It can’t feel you, so it misses you a little.”

You replied: Please tell the wind that I'm grateful for its concern. And also get it to remind a certain bad egg who goes back on his word to keep his promises to me.

Actually, your anger had already vanished very early on. You found yourself thinking - about eight hundred times a day - about whether Gavin’s wounds were healing properly. And whether he returned to eating cup noodles since there wasn’t a canteen in STF, and without your handmade bento boxes.

But if you were to forgive him so easily, this fellow would hide his injuries from you again!

Mm, a longer punishment is necessary.

“Are we eating the watermelon?”

His voice pulls you back to the present.

Gavin is at a loss as he stands in the middle of your living room, hugging the watermelon to himself. Not knowing if you’re still angry with him, he tests the waters with the question, carefully gauging your reaction.

To the Commander of STF who fears nothing on earth, there is nothing more frightening than his girl giving him the cold shoulder.

Instead of giving him an answer, you fire a question.

“How are your wounds?”

“They were fine since a long time ago. They weren’t anything serious to begin with. In the previous mission...” When Gavin sees your expression, he cuts himself off sharply. “Don’t worry, I’m really okay.”

“’Okay’? ‘Wasn’t anything serious’?! Mr Gavin, are you sure?”

Your volume spikes. Why is this guy always like this? He calls it nothing serious when there’s clearly a deep gash on his shoulder?!

“How serious do you want your injuries to be? Like the time Eli had to carry you straight to the hospital? Gavin, could you please place more importance on your life! I already told you, you aren’t alone anymore! If you continue treating yourself like this, I... I will...”

Gavin frantically sets down the watermelon and embraces you.

“All right, all right, don’t be mad. It’s my fault, it’s all my fault.”

Furious, you struggle in his arms for a second or two before remembering that there are wounds on his body. In the end, you surrender and lean into his arms obediently.

“I’ll vow on Thorny’s life that I won’t do it again!”

“What’s the use of vowing on Thorny’s life? Didn’t you say it was already lacking vitality! Maybe after a few days, you would enrage it to death!”

“Then... Pearly? Or Flyer? Mini Thorny?”

“Gavin!”

“All right...” Gavin tightens his hold, caging you in his arms. He lowers his head and draws nearer to your face, his warm breaths brushing your ear, leaving a numbing sensation in their wake. “Silly. I understand everything you want to say. No matter how dangerous a mission is, and no matter how far I have to go, I know that I always have a home with its lights turned on for me, and a girl waiting behind the door...

“For her, I’ll remember to take good care of myself, and come back safe and sound.”

“Because I’m no longer alone...”

As the voice grows soft, his searing lips gradually meet yours...

In the midst of being kissed dizzy, the only rational thought that drifts to your mind is -

Does this even count as a lesson to him?

Whatever. Since we’re already here... we’ll talk about the rest later.

---

You feast on the watermelon in Gavin’s arms, and a droplet of bright red juice pelts onto his bare chest. Feeling mischievous, you lean over and lick it off directly, successfully re-igniting the flames in the eyes of the man before you.

“Don’t move. We haven’t finished our earlier discussion.”

Swatting away his hand before it comes an inch closer, you lift your chin and look at him teasingly. “So who is the one who misses me? Thorny? Sparky? The wind?”

“Cough.”

“Tell me quickly, or else...”

Pretending to bare your fangs and brandish your claws, you lunge onto him, but accidentally press the remote control in the process. The television on the wall switches on, displaying the news.

The person who is having an interview just happens to be the one who gave the two of you watermelons - Eli.

“Most of the employees in STF are amiable and approachable, especially the aunties in the canteen - they would always pile on more dishes for relatively skinny-looking members...” Eli dons his best smile as he tells the public more about STF, with absolutely no idea about the tragic fate awaiting him the next day.

[Important Context] The official MLQC Weibo account posted fun facts of Loveland City in celebration of the game’s 1000-day anniversary (which I translated here). One of the facts concerns STF, which is basically what Eli is saying above

However, in “Go See Him”, Gavin has a line where he says: “There isn’t a canteen in STF, but the nearby eateries aren’t bad.”

In another line, he says: “My colleagues would sometimes bring handmade bentos...”

So... is this a genuine mistake on Papergames’ part, or has Gavin been lying so MC would make him bentos LOL

"Yes, there has always been a canteen in STF ever since it was built. Apart from the Commander, other team members can also have their meals there.”

“What does the Commander eat? That’s a secret for you to find out the next time you interview him directly hahaha.”

...

"G A V I N.”

You boil with rage, whipping your head around to glare at the “Serial Liar”. Before waiting for you to continue, he acts first, flipping you over and pinning you underneath him.

“Give me a proper explanation about the canteen!”

“All right. But... we’ll talk after getting our fill.”

The sweet fragrance of watermelon permeates the air.

On this late summer evening, it seems like this man will need a very, very long time to be satiated...

[ Permission to Translate ]

八重垂樱: Sure, thank you for liking it

#mlqc #mlqc gavin

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poptod · 4 years ago

Text

Cambridge Ghouls pt. 3 (Ahkmenrah x Reader)

Description: Your friend’s antics has pulled you and Ahk out of your comfortable library and into Scotland.

Notes: been a hot minute since i updated this so renewal on what is going on here: you are a zombie named crayon who lives on the grounds of cambridge university. your friends are ahk, a revived mummy; amy, a ghost; phillip, a vampire; rose, a corpse; and benjamin, a human. i wrote and came up w this while high and i feel like im following in the footsteps of shawn, the writer of natm. enjoy the story i tacked onto the one drawing i made WC: 6.8k

The pressure of your head on his shoulder, face hidden in the beaded cloth of his collar, was the only sensation he cared to feel. Early hours of night often lead to this position––cradled in blankets, trying to learn English, and trying to cope with the new world the both of you were vomited into. Tonight was much the same, though the familiar warmth of the hearth was cold in the dusty dark of the library room.

Your friends had yet to join you, a fact that had Ahk glancing at the door every five minutes. It was unlike them to take so long. If he had to guess, he'd surmise they'd gotten into a spot of mischief, and were held up with their own problems. That happened an unfortunate amount of times, but Ahk didn't mind much, as it often left the two of you in peace and quiet. While the four of them cavorted off on school grounds, he kissed the top of your head.

"- and did I ever tell you where I got that from?" came from behind the door, muffled but growing steadily closer. The footfalls of several people followed, and Ahk assumed it was his friends finally visiting you and him.

The door slamming open startled you into a jump that pushed your cat off your lap, knocking Ahk's jaw as you frantically scanned the room. His lower teeth clashed with his upper, sending a sharp wave of pain through his skull, one that quickly dissipated upon seeing his friends. Phillip, leading the pack, was talking loud and fast with wildly fast hand movements, and was clearly not being understood by anyone present. Amy followed close behind, floating above the heads of the others for ease. Then came a very distressed-looking Ben, whose usual soft features were contorted into panic.

Phillip continued talking for a minute, unchallenged for attention, until Ahk, who grew easily irritated at times, finally stopped him.

"Phil!" He said, his accent still twisting his words. "None of us can understand you."

"Wh -" he paused at last, looking to each of them, "I – Ben lost my violin!"

"A what?" Ahk said, taken aback.

"I'm sorry!" said Ben in a fluster.

"He did what?!" said Amy.

You stumbled over quietly, hanging off of Ahk's arm as you attempted to listen.

"I got that violin from my grandfather, crafted out of this beautiful wood and enchanted, and... ohh! You are so irritating sometimes," Phillip whined, growing into a growl as he pointed a finger at Ben.

"Enchanted? What, like a magic violin?" Amy asked.

"Precisely like a magic violin," Phillip said with a sigh, looking dramatically morose. What else could you expect of a vampire from the 1600's?

"Can someone please tell me what a violin is?" Ahk said, glancing between Ben, Amy, and Phillip.

"It's an instrument like the harp or lyre," Amy quickly explained. "Ben borrowed a 'special' violin from Phil after almost failing music class."

"I can't afford to fail another class," Ben moaned, "I'm already two classes over the limit, and my parents can only do so much."

"Mein Gott," Phil said under his breath.

"Is your grandfather going to be mad?" Ben asked nervously, turning to Phil.

"No, they're not hard for him to make. He's just the only one who's capable of making them, and the wood is very specific. It's the only kind that can channel pure magic."

"So... the Tree of Life," Ahk said. He had his hands folded beneath his chin, eyes concentrated on the vampire.

"Something like that. It's just – look, I need that violin, too. We can go and try to find that tree and ask my grandfather to make another, and you can use it to pass the class, but after that it comes back to me. Don't take music next year," Phillip said, turning to face Ben.

"Damn it," Ben cursed. "Fine. Deal."

"Wonderful," Phillip said with a curt smile, shaking Ben's hand firmly.

Once he let go, Phillip went straight to the bookcase, supernaturally fast eyes scanning the many titles. Ahkmenrah watched on for a moment in mild confusion before his attention was diverted to you, your weight falling onto him as you leaned.

"Careful there," he murmured, helping to rebalance you. You wouldn't understand him, but the sentiment was there, and you stayed close-by.

Ben, being a tall lad, looked over Phillip's shoulder every time he pulled a book down. While he did that you got distracted by your cat Winchester purring at your feet, kneeling down to gather him in your clumsy arms. The undead cat––much like you––didn't weigh much after the rot.

"Amy, are these books up-to-date on their information?" Phillip asked, ignoring Ben's breathing in his ear.

"Why should I know that?"

"Because you know an absurd amount of things that don't really matter except for in certain, usually odd instances," Phillip replied without looking up.

"... most of them are up to date," she mumbled. Phillip thanked her before promptly returning to his search.

You tugged on Ahk's sleeve again, opening your mouth to say something but only a soft whine leaving you. He took your hand, facing you with concerned eyes, but said nothing. Instead he scanned your expression, waiting to see if you would motion or signify anything. You wouldn't understand his words, anyway.

"Hunngryy.." you suddenly breathed out, your fingers coming to rest on high on his cheek, dragging down to the end of his jaw. His eyes widened.

"Hungry?" He repeated.

Ahk turned to the others, contemplating how he would get you something to eat. There was no food in the library, and very little food in the whole of the school, what with the winter break nearing. Best choice would be to keep with the others, he decided.

"You'll be alright for a little bit, right?" He asked you. You showed no signs of any reaction, only staring at your fingers touching his face.

"Ahk, we need to go to Scotland," Phillip said, snapping a book shut and sliding it back into its' place on the bookshelf.

"What? Why?"

"Because of the British," he seethed, promptly whipping around and walking out the door.

Ahk watched on in his usual state of confusion, but knew better than to ask questions. As much of a leader as he was born and bred to be, he was happy to follow the vampire's lead, to look after you as the others panicked about their petty things.

So he took your hand––followed only when everyone else was out the door, and locked the library behind him, fingers still entwined with yours. Though your hands were in a constant clumsy blunder, you tried your best to keep still in his touch. He never minded. Your fingers, while a little cool, had a forgiving magic that calmed him easily.

Brisk night air hit his face the moment he exited the school, following his friends through the grassy fields growing outside the brick and mortar building. Disappointing as it was unavoidable, none of the stars showed in the sky, blurred by the bright streetlamps lining the puddle-filled roads. The distinct scent of rain––petrichor––intoxicated the air he breathed, a leftover of the rains plaguing the city all day. Cars passed by, though luckily not often, as the sound of a roaring engine followed by rainwater splashing up his leg was not something Ahk enjoyed. His beautiful, golden robes never fared well in dreary English weather.

You showed no aversion to the cold or the wet. He had never seen you shiver, or wipe rain off yourself, or avoid stepping in puddles. You tried to stay out of mud, yes, but that was about it.

Phillip paused at the roadside, glancing out at the street with wide, searching eyes. Ben joined him on his right, and the two of them began to look for a cab, a fact that Ahk only knew because it was how they always got around. Once you caught up to Ahk halting, you bumped into his shoulder. Winchester followed you in a quick strut, ever loyal to his owner. For a second you stumbled back, but with a tug from him you were centered, once again resting part of your weight on him. Without him, you slouched in a noticeably-undead way.

"Can I ask what we're doing?" Ahk asked Amy, though he kept his eyes on the two men trying to hail a cab.

"One moment," she said.

A second later and he noticed the car driving up, rolling wheels flicking water onto the shined ends of Ben's tailored shoes. He stepped back with a gasp, backing into Phillip, who quickly pushed him away. Once the cab came to a full stop, Phillip made his way to the front window to speak with the driver. After a quick conversation, the five of you crammed into the back of the cab, your knees held up high to your chests with each of your hands in your respective laps.

"Now can I ask what we're doing?" Ahk asked again.

"We're going to Scotland to get the tree," Amy said.

"It's a specific strain that doesn't exist in England, but there should be a few up in the highlands," Phillip further explained.

"Are we taking a cab all the time?"

His slip-up in english was overlooked as Phillip said, "we're getting to the train station. Won't be a comfy car but we should get there in time."

"We'll need you two to get the tickets for us. They see Ahkmenrah, or Crayon, they're going to ask questions. If they see me, well... um.. I suppose I could just act like a ghost," Amy said, trailing off as she thought strategically.

"Good point. And we need an excuse for when they come to check our tickets," Phillip said as he leaned inward into the group, his right leg bouncing up and down.

"Movies! Or – or a musical, how's that work?" Ben suggested in a sudden moment of brilliance, a wide smile matching his sporting tone.

"Good idea, for once. And – wait," Phillip paused, "is the screen between us and the driver...?"

"It's there," Amy said, sparking a sigh of relief out of Phil.

"Gott sei Dank," Phil mumbled.

For the next 10 minutes of driving that should've been six without traffic, the three of them discussed the technicalities, the lies they would have to formulate in order to achieve their goal. In that time you began to gnaw on your fingers, hunger tearing at your already shoddy intestines. Ahk scolded you twice, though it never worked, and the third time he did so you whined and hid your face in him. He sighed quietly, leaning in to kiss the top of your head.

As the cab began to slow to a halt, Benjamin pulled out his wallet, handing several notes to the driver through the tray given. With that the five of you stumbled out of the tiny black automobile, watching it speed off only to stop at the next hailing woman.

"Alright, you guys wait out here. Benjamin and I will be back in a couple minutes," Phillip said, halting you, Ahk, and Amy beside a bench near the entrance.

Though clearly irritated by the command, Amy took the invisible seat beside the bench. Ahk took a seat as well, and you easily followed, fidgeting with the skin on your hands.

"How long will they take do you think?" Ahk asked.

"Ten minutes maybe? Neither of them have great... people skills," Amy said hesitantly, her eyes never leaving the doors of the station.

A tug on his head stopped him from asking for clarification, and instead he turned back to you, patiently but quietly asking what you were doing. You hummed something unintelligible, continuing to pull at his crown. To spare himself the headache he took it off for you, handing the heavy gold to you, and chuckling softly when you couldn't quite carry it.

To your side sat Winchester, who gingerly sniffed the shining metal before shrinking away in disdain. You mumbled something again before landing a kiss on top of the cat's head.

"I'm going to need that back, you know," Ahk said with a chuckle, bringing your attention back to him.

You just tilted your head and smiled, slightly spaced out but eyes filled with a warmth. Every now and then he glimpsed this, this spirit that had nothing to give but kindness, who shone from the best center a human can have; honest adoration for another. You raised your hand, tangling your fingers in his dark hair and ruffling the curls there.

For a moment you tried to say something, but as it continually didn't come out right, you instead attempted bopping his nose with your fingertip. Attempted meaning not successfully; you missed and almost poked him in the eye, but Ahk flinched and you just poked him on his cheek. He chuckled, took your hand, and kissed the back of it.

A blush of sorts took to your cheeks. Like most times, you had little idea why you were feeling strangely, and thus pulled away from his touch. He knew not to mind by now.

"Amy?"

"Mm?"

"Do you think they have any food in there?"

"Nothing that's open. Might have a coffee place still up, but... well, they might have some croissants. Bread," she said, taking a moment to think before she spoke.

"I don't think Crayon would eat it," Ahk said.

"Probably not." Amy looked past Ahk to you, watching you for a moment before continuing. "The dinner car might be open, though. Depends on how expensive the tickets are."

"Hmm," he sighed. "Thank you."

She nodded with a smile before turning back to the train station, the warm light of lamps both indoor and outdoor illuminating the empty waiting lines and streetsides. Those still outside were dressed in coats and scarves, though weren't piled up in different layers––those would have to wait for colder months, which would not come until the warmer ones came and went.

Most people ignored the three of you. Close to no light shone on the bench shadowed by the overhang, and since you kept quiet, no one bothered to spare an extra glance. In the dark, Amy was mostly invisible. You and Ahk didn't have that power, but you mostly looked like a homeless person, and Ahk... well, he wrapped himself up in his cape, and that was about the best disguise he could manage.

The door of the station clicked open, drawing all eyes to the approaching figure of Phillip, silhouetted against the lights of the station inside.

"Ben's inside, we booked a room and we're leaving in five minutes," Phillip said, almost out of breath as he stopped in front of you.

"Five minutes?" Amy asked as the three of you stood. "Rather last minute, isn't it?"

"It's a night train, no one's got tickets anyway," Phillip said, tapping the backs of each of you as you passed him, coralling you all into the building.

It wasn't warmer inside as Ahk expected, leading him to thoughtlessly tuck his arms into himself. He'd been looking forward to some warmth. Hopefully he'd find that on the train. Just as Amy surmised, most of the restaurants inside the building were closed, iron grates pulled over once-colorful shops. Ahk paused to take in what little architecture he could see in the dark, but was soon pulled away by Phillip leading the group onwards.

Once again he tapped your backs, counting each of you as you entered the halted train. You reached for Ahk's hand as you walked down the long hallway, searching for the right room number, which only Benjamin and Phillip knew. Most of the lights outside the train were dimmed by the darkened windows, and instead the way was shown by tiny lamps lining the hallways and rooms.

"Here," Ben said, stopping those ahead of him. You and Ahk turned, and the five of you piled into the little room, whose velvet seats were soon covered up by your group.

As usual, you took your seat beside Ahk, who had claimed a window seat that happened to be near the table as well. On the other side of the train car, there was nothing but empty tracks and the eerie darkness of cities at evening. You sniffed and leaned back against the Pharaoh.

"Mmm," you mumbled, turning to press your face into his side, "hunngryy."

"I know," he said softly. "Do we have a food car?"

"I don't know if they'll have any real food, but they probably have snacks," Phillip said, still situating himself in the crowded room.

Ahk looked to Amy, who shrugged.

"Might as well try," she said, and with no reason to refute her, Ahk clumsily led you past the seated legs and back into the hallway.

The train began to rumble forward as the two of you walked. You bumped into Ahk's back when it happened, but you regained balance easily, and two train cars down you found the dining car. Only one light was on, sat upon the bartop beside a single bowl of nuts. The windows, lined by red and gold curtains, showed nothing but speeding darkness outside.

You moaned uneasily, tugging on Ahk's sleeve as your eyes remained entranced upon the flickering buildings outside.

"Fast, isn't it?" He said softly, glancing to you before looking back outside. "You'll be alright?"

Of course you didn't understand his words, but seeing as he wasn't upset by the high speeds, you calmed down. He then glanced over the bar counter, searching for any food besides the bowl of nuts. Upon finding nothing his face screwed up in dissatisfaction.

"Will you eat nuts?" He asked as he took the bowl, handing it to you.

You fingered through them, pushing aside the ones you deemed inedible. He watched you for a little while––and you did take a while to sort the whole bowl––but in the end you only ate about three. It might tide you for a little while, but you would have to eat again later.

After thoroughly searching the train car, the two of you returned to the rest of your friends, who had made busy discussing the fickle state of Phillip's teeth. Phillip himself wasn't engaging much considering he didn't find the topic an agreeable conversation point, and his stubbornness had led way to Ben and Amy getting once more embroiled in debate.

"I honestly think his teeth grow. I'm pretty sure I've heard of that being a condition, and I mean, it happens to rabbits. It could happen to humans," Ben said, crossing his arms but keeping a polite tone. Amy, however, had no consideration for such niceties.

"I... I don't care to unpack all that, but we've told you this before. He's a vampire. He can retract his teeth, and that's why they have different sizes at different times," she explained in a seething voice, her teeth clearly gritted behind her lips.

"Where would someone store a retracted tooth? It's not like claws, there's no space in the skull," Ben said, completely passing over the very clear indicator of something he had yet to figure out; Phillip was a vampire.

"Tiny bit of food over there, but I'm still going to be looking," Ahk said halfheartedly to Amy, crawling in beside her on the bench. "How long's this ride supposed to be?"

"Ten hours," Phillip replied gruffly, his half-lidded eyes staring vacantly out the window. He slouched against the wall, balancing his cheek on his palm, elbow rested on the tiny desk beneath the glass.

"Oh dear," Ahk said, his voice suddenly small.

"Yes, well," Phillip sniffed, shifting in his seat, "we'll have to be quick once we get there. Our ticket back is for the coming morning."

"Wait, morning?! Have you forgotten Crayon and I can't see the sun?"

"Oh, shit, my apologies," he said, eyes wide as he remembered your unfortunate curse. He stood, smoothing out the wrinkles in his suit. "I'll, um, I'll go see the director. I'm sure I can get something sorted, trade in your tickets for, um... tomorrow night. We can get you a hotel room or something."

He left quick after that, scooting past all your legs before pushing himself out the door. A deep uneasiness settled itself inside Ahk, appearing in the form of a racing heart, and paranoid thoughts. To die, to risk seeing the dawn just for a violin, seemed to him a strange way for his story to end. He had a feeling––one that would never go away––that he would not die to the sun. Not him, the undead King of a sunkissed land. Still, just because he was somewhat-certain about himself not dying, he had you to worry about. You didn't understand the whole 'sun will kill you' thing all that well, and you had no fear regarding the morning. He would have to keep an eye on you the later into the night it got.

The stars, once clogged by streetlamps and busy restaurant lights, shone brighter in the suburbia sprawling out across the land. Very slowly the tall buildings began to fade, and the homes grew less and less frequent till each one had a personality of its' own. Grass and overgrowing flora took the place of wide, car-lined streets, and eventually the short brick walls flanking either side of the train tracks fell away to show the whole of the land.

Ahk didn't need sleep. You didn't either, but the two of you nonetheless curled into one another, dozing in the warm light as the others conversed quietly. He overheard little (considering he didn't care to listen), but the others seemed to be in good spirits despite the loss of an apparently valuable violin.

Brakes screeching outside brought him to stir, dazed eyes landing first on the pale sky, and then to you, completely zonked out. He chuckled but had no time to comment on it before Phillip was rushing the five of you out, grabbing the few coats you kept in the top rack and coralling you down the hall.

The air here had a certain taste; that was what Ahk first noticed upon exiting the train. Although the sky was already beginning to lighten, it was clear the sun would not come for a good several hours, as the stars still shone in the darker pockets of space. Rolling hills and jagged mountains surrounded him, framing the tiny train station that remained entirely unoccupied save for him and his friends. Down the grass-filled valley lay a town whose houses consisted of wood, painted dull colors but decorated with flowers, petals of red, yellow, and purple lining the brick roads. Very little light from the horizon reached the town.

Phillip hit Amy on the side. "There," he said, eyes trained on the distance as he pointed across the outdoor station, "tree groves. Looks like pine."

"Indeed it is," she said with a smile.

"Is that what we need then? A pine tree?" Ben asked.

"Well... sort of," Phillip said, shrugging.

He scanned the train stop, and in less than a second he began to go in the right direction, headed for the tall bridges that crowned the railroad. The others followed quick behind, though Ahk had to grab your hand and pull you away from the alluring lights of the town.

"Hunng..gry," you whined, stumbling over your feet as you tried in vain to escape Ahk's grasp.

"Crayon, you can't go down there," he said, feeling more and more as though he was taking care of a child. "Come now."

You whined again but made no more attempts to refuse. Once you caught up to the rest of the group, the sudden loss of speed in Ahk's step had you bumping into him again, but once your head rested on the back of his shoulder you stayed put. Each time you rested yourself on him in any way, a fluttering light would suddenly overtake him with a blush. This was only strange because you did that a lot––each night, multiple times, you would put your head on his shoulder, lean on his chest, rest your hands in his lap. Another charm of yours.

Freezing damp surrounded his feet, open to the coming breezes since he never wore anything but sandals. His state of being mostly-undead kept him from feeling a good deal of the cold, there was still a tingling numbness, apparent in all of his fingers and the tip of his nose. For the first time he shivered, helpless to the vibrations pulsing through him.

"Ah, careful here," Phillip said, slowing the pace to make way for a long, stone fence ranging all the way down into the village. "The rocks are still very wet, so..."

Amy floated on over the wall, materializing her hand to help Phillip step over. He took it with a thank you, balancing himself on her, and soon helping Ben and Ahk over as well. Even Winchester got over, his large paws landing on the stones before jumping back down into the mud and grass. Unfortunately, you were still on the other side and incredibly confused. Your head tilted to the side, brows furrowed deeply as your mouth hung half-open.

"Take my hand, dear," Ahk said as he held out his own hand, which you gingerly took.

Your grip remained as gentle as you could manage, a habit you grew after accidentally hurting Ahk, but the habit had you nearly slipping and cracking your skull further.

"Woah there," Phillip said, instinctually zipping over to catch you. "Just – sit on the rocks."

Although you didn't understand, Ahk made sure to motion to you, and you reluctantly sat on the rocks. Your face scrunched up as your pant soaked from waist to ankles. With a little help, you swung your legs over.

"Alright, good?" Phillip asked the group at large, looking to each of you. When he received all nods, he continued onwards to the nearing grove of trees, searching carefully for any dips in the terrain.

"How are you, my dear?" Ahk asked to only you, his voice a murmur in your ear. He leant in to speak more secretively, an action that made you giggle, which in turn brought a smile to his face. Of course you couldn't verbally respond, so instead you gently headbumped him in the shoulder.

The same questions as always rang in his head as he watched you, wondering if you understood any part of him at all. It was clear by now there was something in your head––you had learned the word for hunger, and you showed affection to him specifically. Was that because he was a safe space, or because you loved him? He tried to never contemplate it, as it was likely he would never get answers, even if he wanted nothing more than that.

"Alright, so, we're looking for trees that can support magic. It's relatively easy to test it," Phillip said, ducking beneath the unavoidable branches to continue through the grove. "Just concentrate your magic into the tip of your finger and put it to the tree. If it leaves a burn mark, it isn't magic, but if the light flows through the bark, it works with magic. It'll look a bit like glowing veins."

"You'd know all about that," Amy mumbled beneath her breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing," she said, and he didn't pry further.

"Um, Phillip?" Ahk said slowly, raising a single brow as he scanned the forest. "How do we, um, consecrate magic?"

"Concentrate," Amy corrected.

"What? I thought you could. You're a cursed mummy, why wouldn't you have magic?" Phillip said with a frown.

"I don't have it either," Amy said, raising her hand slowly, reluctant to meet his eye.

"You're – okay, alright, it's fine. I suppose I'll... just have to check myself," he grumbled, cursing under his breath as he turned back to the woods.

"So how do we do the magic?" Ben asked quietly once Phillip had left earshot.

"Unless you come from sorcerers, we don't," said Amy.

"What's sorcerers?" Ahk asked, and although he hadn't meant to, Amy began to grow irritated.

"A type of person who uses magic. Come on, let's catch back up," she said, expertly pulling the conversation off of her, and onto the path ahead.

He didn't remember when you stopped touching him, or when Winchester had disappeared from sight, but as he looked behind him panic filled his lungs. You were not there. Actually, you weren't anywhere in sight––you, and your cat, had run off.

"Amy!" Ahk said, eyes widening as his face paled. "We've got to find Crayon!"

"Wh- you let them run off?!"

"I thought they were still with me!" Ahk cried, holding his head in his hands as dread dripped from his eyes like tears.

"Ben, go find Phillip. We have to find Crayon," Amy said, and with that Ben sped off, and Amy floated above the trees. "I'll try and find them in this direction. Go fifty paces that way and then come directly back, it won't work if you get lost as well."

"Um – what's paces?"

"Fifty steps or something," she said.

"I'm.. really sorry, what's fifty?"

She sighed but floated back to the ground, patiently taking the time to write it out in Egyptian numerals in the dirt.

"Ohhh," he mumbled. "Thank you."

"Of course. Now go," she said, pushing him back to it.

Paranoia pounded in his heart as he walked, carefully counting the number of steps he took, and carefully keeping in the right direction. Much of his concentration stayed in keeping the right path, but the good rest of it was absorbed in looking for you. He was easy to spot in both day and night with his golden robes. You, on the other hand, blended in nearly everywhere. Perhaps your cat would give you away, but he didn't rely on that happenstance.

Throughout his search he remained in high alert, paying special attention to each of his senses. As much as he wanted to run through the forest, looking for you at every turn, it would do no more than waste his energy and get him as lost as you. So he kept to his pace no matter what his instincts told him, and retraced his steps once he hit 50.

"Any sight of them?" Ahk asked once Amy appeared from among the twisting branches.

"No," she said with a curt sigh. "No sign of the cat, either."

"Damn," he cursed. "Where would they have gone?"

"I don't –"

"AMY??!"

Phillip's voice nearly echoed with the strength of it. Amy just sighed, again, but took off in the direction of the yell. He followed quick after, following her ethereal form through the pines. The two of them soon came to find Phillip and Ben standing beside a tree that, as expected, had glowing tangles of string lining up and down the bark, much like veins.

"Find it?" Ahk asked, panting slightly from the exertion of running.

"Yes, but we've run into a horrible problem," he spluttered, clearly overwhelmed by the whole of the night.

"What's that?" said Amy.

"We forgot the ax," Ben said, hiding his face in his hands in such a way that his voice came out muffled.

"Oh... fuck," she said.

Muffled grumbling dragged him out of the conversation, though seeing as no one else turned, Ahk assumed he was the sole listener. For a moment it sounded like a wild animal, and his heart began preemptively racing in its' cage. Then came movement––the rustling of bushes and trees, footsteps sloshing in the mud as though something was being dragged.

Thick, clotted blood ran down from your mouth, streaking down your shirt and staining both of your hands. Flecks of it had landed all across your torso, coloring the dull mud caked onto the shirt. Winchester stood at your side, looking lovingly up at you, and on your other side you clutched the leg of a creature long-dead.

"Crayon," Ahk whispered out, and the conversation behind him fell silent, all eyes turning to you. No one moved, entranced in the strained breaths heaving your chest up and down.

You made your way forward, passing Phillip and coming to the tree, whose veins still held the eerie glow. Ignoring the sharp needles and branches, you grabbed the trunk. With a mighty shout and a horrible cracking that likened far too much to bones for anyone's comfort, the tree came crumbling down, a victim to the uncontrolled strength of the aggravated undead.

The four watched on in great surprise and mild horror as you turned back around, looking as though you'd done no more than picked up your cat.

"Ahhk..m," you mumbled past blood-soaked lips, shuffling forward. Halfway to him you dropped the leg of what was now clearly a sheep, and soon you bumped into him, leaning part of your frail weight on him.

He didn't react, too flabbergasted to do so. A number of things had him petrified, and all together it was too much––you going missing and then returning, covered in blood no less, and then the part he didn't know what to think of.

You said his name. Out of all the words you could have learned, you decided his name was most important; second to hunger, of course.

"Ummm..."

You hummed, satisfied, and wrapped your arms around Ahk, squeezing him. As much as he wanted to return the affection, you were still covered in blood that was now painting his stomach. Another horrid part was the smell––the raw meat you'd torn into and the half-dry blood beneath your fingernails, paired with the corpse of the sheep, whose white coat was now soaked in both blood and clotted sludge.

"Well... at least Crayon's back," Amy said, gesturing vaguely when Phillip raised his brow. Both were at a loss.

"Sun will rise soon, we need to get the tree back. Ahk," Phillip said, motioning the Pharaoh over, who quickly obeyed.

Phillip stood near the trunk end, split open to expose the raw wood, and Ahk stood at the tip on the other side. Once both were situated, they heaved upwards to balance the weight on each man.

Rain began to pour as the five of you made your way back to the train station, you remaining adamantly at Ahk's side despite his pace being a little too fast. After your massive splurge of strength, your muscles ached, and your mind was beginning to slow. Amy suggested that perhaps you got stronger––both physically and mentally––when you had a decent diet of raw meat.

"Do you think we could get food to them more often, then? Obviously it makes them feel better, so long as you don't exert too much of it at once," Ahk said, eyes narrowing playfully as they fell upon you. You made no sign that you understood but giggled from his expression.

"I don't know, raw meat can –"

"Crayon can just eat my leftovers," Phillip said, grunting as he adjusted the tree beneath his arm.

"Leftovers?" questioned Ahk.

"I get most of my blood from raw meat that you can get from a butcher. The meat'll be a tad pale, but it should work. Might even be less messy," he said.

"/Anything/ would be less messy than that," Ben said as he gestured to you.

"Don't bother about him," Ahk said, swiftly kissing your forehead. "He's just jealous you're stronger than him."

While Ben and Amy stood right outside the train station, guarding the tree, Phillip took you and Ahk down to the town down in the valley. The walk down was long and rainy eough that by the end of it, there was no need to go wash off in the river. Most of the mud and all of the blood had washed away. The only problem left was Ahk's clothes––to remedy that, Phillip gave him his long, sunproof coat, just for the morning.

Warmth finally enveloped him as the three of you entered the tiny hotel, glowing with yellow light but occupied by only a ticking clock and a woman behind the counter. Much of the rainy streets outside were blocked by the overgrowing flowers lining the windowsills. Phillip, using his human skills and human money, booked one of the five rooms available in the whole of the small hotel.

"Don't get much business here, do you?" Phillip asked as he rooted around in his wallet.

"Do, actually," the woman said with a sigh. "Ever since the castle got refurnished, that's the only place people want to stay. Plenty of customers, no business. Been here 50 years and that hasn't changed."

"... my apologies, ma'am."

The cheaper room happened to be the one with no windows which, for Ahk and Phillip, was a win-win. While Phillip could make do in the sunlight, wearing long coats, gloves, and bearing umbrellas, Ahk would not have that freedom. The two of you would have to stay in the little town with your tickets back until the next evening. Phillip left you there to rejoin Amy and Ben, hopefully to find Phil's grandfather and recarve that special violin.

"Nice enough room," Ahk commented once the two of you were left alone.

It wasn't anything grand––of course it wasn't, but it had that certain charm that made it feel quite cozy. An electric heater sat behind the door, and beside it stood a table, two chairs tucked into it and a small clock atop it.

He sat on the bed and you followed, fingering the scratchy blanket placed above soft, worn sheets.

"Don't wander off like that again," he said softly in his native tongue, concern in his tone as he raised your head to look him in the eye. "I get horribly worried about you."

Slowly you raised your hand, coming to rest your palm against his cheek. Your dull eyes, rimmed with red, told him of a sadness you couldn't quite articulate. In its' place you gave what would best substitute the words––a kiss on the forehead so carefully gentle he barely felt it. The way you moved, slow and cautious, made him feel as though he were made of porcelain.

"I feel as though we are the only sane people in the world," he admitted with a smile, blushing from your affection. "That's silly of me, isn't it? For the undead Pharaoh to think he and his undead friend are the sane ones. My old self would find this hilarious."

"Ahhk," you mumbled out, moving attentively till your arms wrapped around his shoulders and neck, your cheek squished against his head. You kept moving, moved to your knees, and soon you were pulling him down to lay on the bed. He laughed and held you back, keeping your fragile form comfortably on top of his chest.

"You are, undoubtedly, one of the kindest creatures I've met," he said, whispered against your temple. Energy was beginning to leave him––/life/ was beginning to leave him, as the sun rose hidden behind the hotel walls.

Since you couldn't manage any more strength for words, you kissed the top of his head once more. As numbness filled his limbs, he tried not to think of the coming hours, how the two of you would be no more than corpses in a bed.

You were the first to stop breathing.

In the next evening the two of you snuck back onto the train, enjoying 10 hours to yourself before you were racing back to Cambridge. The sun would rise soon enough, and neither of you had money for a cab home, thus leaving only one option: sprinting.

The two of you collapsed with laughter as you slammed the door of the library shut behind you, the light of the sun already peering over the horizon.

"Gott sei Dank, you're safe," Phillip said, greeting the both of you with a smile and outstretched arms.

"Phillip, my friend," Ahk said, laughing, "thank you for your jacket. I don't think they would've let me without it."

"Of course!"

"And of the filing?"

"The what?"

Soft violin came from around the hallways of bookcases, filling the room with music just as the fireplace filled the room with warm light. Ahk took your hand, and the three of you made your way to the hearth, Ahk taking his seat on the floor with you, cradled in a swath of blankets. Above the two of you Ben played, dressed in a fitted black and white suit that accentuated the strength of his chest and his lean waist.

"You two have a fun evening?" Amy asked, careful to keep her voice below the volume of the violin.

"Wonderful," he answered for both of you. You nuzzled further into him, and with your head tucked below his chin, the two of you finally relaxed back in your home.

#ahkmenrah x reader #Ahkmenrah #Night at the Museum #rami malek #ahkmenrah x male reader #ahkmenrah x female reader #rami malek character

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dxppercxdxver · 5 years ago

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A Note on the Use of Distance, Or: The Evolution of Nines's and Gavin's Relationship as Seen Through Body Language and Physical Proximity, Or: Sparrow Writes 6k About DE That Is Literally Just a Narrative Analysis

Apologies in advance, this is gonna be a long one. If you stick to it and read the whole thing, I will love you forever. (Also, @domlerrys, I’m tagging you because we talk about meta a lot and I think you’ll like this.)

And Michelle, I’m sorry for the length, but there’s just so much to talk about, I had to. Also, “brevity” is not in my vocabulary. Oops. (I’m also sure you know most of this already, but I had a blast analyzing this.)

So, it’s been about a month, and I think it’s about time I typed up some of my thoughts about the use of distance in Detroit Evolution. (For those of you who haven’t seen it yet, 1) What are you doing? 2) Go check it out, it’s a beautiful feature fan film made by the lovely people at @octopunkmedia, and if you like good ace representation, I think you’ll like it.)

To give us the proper background, let’s establish our characters’ relationships with touch. (For those of you who’ve seen the movie, you know this. This is just for our friends who are unaware.)

RK900, or Nines, is very asexual. Not necessarily touch-repulsed, but touch-uninterested, unless it’ll make somebody else happy (namely, Gavin).

Gavin Reed is allosexual, but has a long, complicated history of abuse and psychological manipulation, most of it revolving around intimacy, and, as such, is extremely touch-repulsed. He does not allow people to get close to him.

Throughout the film, they’re very careful to keep physical distance between them, and if they’re forced to be close together, their body language is usually very closed off. Which lends this sense of relief to a pivotal moment in the film later. The very important exceptions are the moments in the Zen Garden, and moments of extreme duress.

Let’s break it down scene by scene.

We open on the Zen Garden. In this mindscape, we know Nines and Gavin behave as though they’re been married for several years. Their interactions are comfortable and familiar, though entirely imaginary, and this is where the use of touch and distance starts to show. Even though this Gavin does not have any of the same touch aversions as the real world Gavin, he keeps his distance from Nines, and Nines, in turn, does the same. When Gavin greets him, he’s standing ten or so feet away; when they walk together, Nines hangs back, and the both of them keep their hands in their pockets, avoiding direct eye contact. Obviously, any more romantic gestures are kept offscreen for audience suspense, but still, what’s shown is equally important. The two main exceptions to this rule are when Gavin reaches out to adjust Nines’s collar and when Nines reaches out to touch Gavin’s face. However, even when Gavin is unbuttoning Nines’s shirt, his arms are perfectly straight, leaving about two feet of space between them, and when Nines cups Gavin’s cheek, it’s not really a romantic gesture. It’s almost a reverential one, and he still leaves about a foot between them. This may not seem like a lot, but considering that this is Nines’s ideal world and even his deepest desires leave that space between them, it reveals how much relative distance matters with these two.

Onto the next scene. Protest. We start in the car, with Nines staring straight ahead, avoiding Gavin’s gaze. Gavin only touches Nines to shock him out of his trance with a gentle slap, then turns his body forward, effectively closing himself off. He maintains this distance, even straying almost twenty feet in front of Nines on their walk up. Here’s another major exception, a moment of extreme duress: Gavin takes Nines’s hand and guides him through the crowd, despite the fact that Nines could easily surpass any one of the protestors in a fight. Even here, however, Gavin keeps his back turned and does not make eye contact. For all he physically reaches out, emotionally, he’s incredibly closed off. Same deal inside Jericho; table between them, avoiding eye contact, careful distance. And even in a more lighthearted moment of banter (Nines mimicking Gavin’s delivery), Chris is standing between them as a physical mediator, and he remains between them the whole scene.

Onto the D.P.D. and the famous first instance of “I hate you.” “You love me.”!

When Nines brings Gavin his coffee, his body language is very open: arms spread, standing over Gavin. However, Nines is also intensely aware of his partner’s issues regarding physical proximity, and quickly draws away, clasping his hands behind his back and retreating ever so slightly to give Gavin his space. Once Nines has spun Gavin’s feet out of the way, they are closer, yes, but Gavin’s back is turned and Nines is careful not to lean in too close over his shoulder. They’re very closed off, and remain this way for much of the scene, never directly facing one another. Gavin stands up, spins counterclockwise to keep his back to Nines until he’s behind Nines, at which point he’s in control of the situation and flips Nines off. When they speak face to face, Gavin’s legs are kicked up on the table or he’s using the coffee mug as a sort of psychological shield. Nothing direct, nothing open.

STAKEOUT! This is a really good example of something Michelle does—that isn’t like other romance movies —that I really love. A common thing in a lot of romance movies is that “almost kiss,” but in a movie like this, where the main romance emphasizes a mental connection over a physical one, that sort of play would feel cheap and out of place. Which is why I love the stakeout scene so damn much. The stakeout is the perfect time for an “almost kiss” moment, BUT! What we get instead is so much better, with two people desperate to let their feelings out but too scared to fully voice them. So you get this awkward dance of them abstracting the concept and refusing to look at one another, deliberately avoiding eye contact. Both of them are faced forward and stay solidly in their seats, leaving as much space as they can allow, and the only times they look toward one another, the other is looking away. They can’t say what they feel unless there’s that protective bubble of space between them. So you get an “almost confessing I like you” scene, with beautiful moments of almost closing that physical distance, but instead staying firmly planted in their seats until Lazzo arrives. Even when Gavin and Nines are forced to be close together, they maintain a healthy distance between them, and their “almost kiss” is swapped out for an “almost admitting I have feelings” moment. (Plus, a bonus of great asexual dialogue, yay!)

Lazzo’s scene isn’t that notable, other than Nines’s and Gavin’s hands brushing on Lazzo’s shoulder, but again, Lazzo is between them and they’re focused on other things. Still got that distance.

The infamous jacket drape, one of the moments Nines breaks the pattern of distance. Gavin is still facing away from him, yes, but Nines deliberately reaches out to touch him in a non-invasive way, one of the only times he does so. Progress! Still a one-sided gesture, though, and even the height difference emphasizes the space between them, with Nines on his feet and Gavin slumped in a chair. Still not breaking that “arm’s length” amount they’ve set. (Tying this into the @high-on-otps‘s analysis about moments of vulnerability occurring when Gavin’s wearing fewer layers, Nines seeing Gavin in just a t-shirt and gifting him his jacket takes on a whole new meaning, with Nines almost stepping in to protect Gavin’s heart. Anyway, that’s a thought for another day.) On another note, this is also one of the two main instances where you see one of these two fools being open only because they think the other won’t notice: just a selfless gesture they don’t want to have to dwell on.

Now! Onto Gavin’s house, where the pattern starts to change. It’s a great way to track the progression of their relationship. They start out separated, with Nines pulled into himself, tablet held out, and Gavin hiding behind his computer, avoiding Nines’s eyes. However, I think this is when Gavin’s starting to realize that he might have feelings for Nines and the reverse might be true (hence his moment of contemplation in the car after he notes the parallel uses of the word “charming” as applying to him and Nines’s possible love interest), and being as tired as he is, his inhibitions are not necessarily gone, but at least hampered. So he allows himself to get close physically, and sort of mentally as well. He’s conflicted, and that’s written all over him, as he puts himself right up against Nines to steal his tablet, but also refuses to look him in the eye and quickly moves to stand up later. This conflict is also incredible to watch in general, but you can see his overwhelming desire to get closer and his defense mechanisms battling in his mind in how he sits: pressed up against Nines’s side, but none of his body overlaps with Nines’s at all, and he doesn’t look at him. Nines makes the first move, leaning his head almost onto Gavin’s shoulder, but not quite. They’re still not there yet. Of course, once Gavin leaves, he keeps his back turned, meeting Nines’s eyes once, for a split second, before entering his room and shutting the door. (And tosses him some gym shorts, of course, because nothing says “I love you” like “hey, you can borrow these sleep shorts.”)

Reentering Nines’s mindscape, we see a little more conflict from his end. (I love how we actually get visual representation of Nines’s internal conflict, while Gavin’s can only be gleaned from how he moves and holds himself. It’s a nice contrast. Frankly, I adore it. Good writing.) Once again, there’s still a fair amount of space between Nines and Zen Gavin, as Nines is burying his feelings in his work. The closest Zen Gavin comes is right behind Nines to talk about what Gavin might have been about to say before walking into his room, but he doesn’t make eye contact, and moves away quite quickly. When he is open and actually making direct eye contact, he’s standing over five feet away, and Nines deliberately turns away. You see? It’s a visual metaphor for the growing emotional tension! Yay!

Nightmare time! This is one of those moments of extreme duress I was talking about!! Also one of my favorite scenes! This is the first time, in the whole film, where all three of these criteria are present: physical proximity, open body language, and direct eye contact. Nines is holding Gavin’s arms, Gavin meets Nines’s eyes, and Gavin’s arms are spread out, not crossed over his chest or in front of his face. Obviously, this moment only lasts a second, as Gavin quickly moves Nines’s arms away, Nines backs up, and Gavin averts his eyes, but for an important beat, that distance was closed, only to be reopened again. Then, of course, they have their “should I stay” moment, where Gavin is sending mixed signals: body is turned toward Nines, but he looks away repeatedly, and Nines is standing a respectful distance away, waiting for permission to come closer or leave. Eventually, Gavin verbally and physically opens himself up: while he avoids looking directly at Nines, he keeps his arms at his sides and doesn’t turn away (huge steps for someone like Gavin), and as for Nines, he does the opposite, maintaining direct eye contact, but turning his body away to give Gavin the space he needs without pressuring him. When Gavin finally welcomes Nines into his bed, he’s making a huge step in his own personal growth. Similar to the couch setup from earlier, except reversed, with Gavin initiating the touch, and with two crucial differences: Nines and Gavin make the briefest of eye contact as they lean in (a silent agreement of “yes, this is a thing we’re doing”) and their bodies overlap. There is an intimate touch in the way they hold hands, fingers interlaced, instead of sitting ramrod straight side by side without making a conscious decision to reach out to the other. Add Nines retracting his skin on top of it, and you get an extremely psychologically open moment. A moment of duress, a moment of comfort (but they still aren’t facing each other yet, and the way it is now, it’s almost like Gavin’s afraid to acknowledge it, to believe it’s real).

NEXT MORNING. Hoo boy this one was a doozy, because it takes the openness of the night before and turns it on its head, twisting and distorting it. Gavin, before he’s awake, displays very physically open body language: spread out on his blankets, arms thrown out to the side up, stomach up. Nines is almost equally so, keeping his arms open as he hands Gavin his coffee and turning more towards him as he sits on Gavin’s bed. But Gavin, regretting the choices he made the previous night, avoids eye contact, curls into himself, and takes the earliest opportunity to put his back to Nines and retreat into the closet. His whole demeanor radiates “get away from me,” but of course, Nines hasn’t picked that up yet. So he presses a little closer, and Gavin makes his point by getting up in Nines’s space, but very deliberately avoiding looking at him and still keeping a couple feet of space. When Nines feels Gavin mentally retreating, he pushes his luck by abusing his commanding presence to intimidate Gavin into cooperation (drawing himself up to his whole height and putting his face right in Gavin’s eye-line). And what does Gavin do? When Nines gets in his space ("I'm not leaving just because you regret having acted like a person"), Gavin makes direct, meaningful eye contact (something he almost never does) and is facing Nines (another big thing), but every part of him screams "get away." In particular, the hands raised in front of his chest like a shield. The whole pose is supposed to look aggressive but every goddamn part of it belies him going into defensive mode. It's FASCINATING. He’s trying to intimidate Nines into leaving him alone because he is so scared of what Nines has seen and what he knows now. This conflict of wanting to accept Nines’s help and push him away is so clearly demonstrated in how part of his body language is geared toward Nines (the eye contact) and how part of is is blocking Nines from coming any closer (his raised hands). He holds this eye contact until Nines leaves.

The next time we see Gavin is back at Jericho, and anyone can sense the tension coming off these two (except, apparently, Chris Miller). They keep a table’s worth of distance between them. Nines, clearly still feeling snubbed from the night before, makes very pointed looks in Gavin’s direction; they’re barbed, full of accusation, very uncharacteristic of Nines, but Gavin did just tell him to wipe his memory, so he definitely believes it’s justified. Gavin avoids eye contact wherever possible, simply because he does not want to deal with this shit right now. I don’t know if he does this consciously, but after Nines’s reference to “last night,” he tucks his hand in his pocket, perhaps an unconscious recoil from Nines’s act of intimacy (holding hands), suppressing that. Cut to them standing in the hallway, Gavin is standing with his arms crossed, looking away, while Nines leans in closer with a much more open stance. He continues probing and Gavin shuts him out entirely, not even deigning to look at him properly before turning his back and walking away. This is one of the tensest moments of their relationship, where Nines is trying to build up the trust they had and Gavin is feeling hurt and betrayed and confused and is falling back on his coping mechanism of shutting people out. The physical distance and body language between them reflects that.

Onto Burn’s Alley! This whole setup is interesting; it’s a social situation in which Gavin and Nines are almost required to interact, as they have a shared obligation to make Chris’s promotion party a pleasant experience, but the tension from the previous night is definitely still bleeding into their conversation. Although they’re crowded around the same table, they put several people between them and focus intently on their drinks and their other friends, never directly addressing one another and avoiding eye contact (again, this movie might as well be subtitled “the one where Nines and Gavin can never actually look at each other for one goddamn second”). Once Ada arrives, Nines makes fast excuses and leaves the conversation, at which point they go back to their previous dance of throwing longing glances at one another when the other isn’t watching. Very good, much yearning. More internal conflict, Gavin can’t deal with his own warring desires of apologizing and running away, so he retreats outside, and Nines follows because now’s his chance to rebuild that trust he lost.

I’m classifying the alley argument as a whole new section because it’s honestly a caliber all its own and deserves a separate analysis. The use of distance here is so good. Nines, though eager to be allowed back into Gavin’s space, is respectful of his partner’s boundaries and situates himself across the alley, though his posture is more open, with his hands behind his back and a gentle lean forward (though this openness is quickly shut down once Gavin snaps at him, you can see Nines’s face fall, and it hurts). Gavin, on the other hand, is violently looking away, body turned in a completely different direction; every part of his posture is unapproachable. And as the argument progresses, we get more of that weaponized distance closing. When Gavin snaps at Nines (”Don’t bother.”), he finally makes eye contact, even keeping his posture more open (arms at his sides, face toward Nines, body mostly angled toward Nines), so Nines is, for the first time, able to properly see all the hurt Gavin’s been bottling up. And Nines steps closer. But, his hackles are raised, shoulders tensed, arms clenched tightly at his sides. They’re both spilling their hearts out, but it’s bitter and cruel and even at their closest, there’s still a foot and a half of space between their chests. When Gavin spits smoke in Nines’s face, the recoil is immediate, and Nines takes his leave of Gavin as Gavin turns away from Nines again. Once again, in a moment of emotional duress, they get closer and closer, but never quite close that gap, but this time, like that morning, the openness is weaponized and aggressive, with Gavin trying to force Nines away by saying “This is me, this is all you’re gonna get, so you might as well run” and Nines trying to get back in by saying “I don’t care, you will listen to me and you will let me care for you.” But because of the violent mannerisms, it backfires. And then the distance grows again.

Watching Nines walk Ada home from the bar, Gavin keeps a huge amount of distance between himself and Nines, both because he doesn’t want to be spotted and because he can’t bring himself to come any closer. With his hood up and hands in his pockets, he’s at his most closed off of the film, and because Nines’s back is to him, it’s obvious to see he’s being shut out, or at least feels like he is. At this moment in time, Ada is the literal and metaphorical wedge between them. Her presence is keeping them apart.

Alley ambush time. This scene. Oh man this scene. Aside from the blatantly romantic reunion scene and balcony scene, this scene has about the most touch and is a perfect narrative foil to Gavin’s nightmare. (I can’t believe I just realized that now, while I was typing this. Michelle, you are a goddamn genius, every major moment has a companion, mirrored moment; Nines giving Gavin his jacket, Gavin doing his speech to Nines and leaving his jacket there; Nines comforting Gavin after his nightmare of dying alone, Gavin comforting Nines and staying by his side to ensure he doesn’t die alone; parallel confessions in the car; of course, “I hate you” “You love me,” there’s the obvious parallel; Gavin initiating a kiss in the reunion, Nines being the one to move first on the balcony; they each get their own moment to shine in the same context and it is beautiful. Hats off to you, Michelle Iannantuono, really. Okay, back to the plot.) Gavin’s body language is at the most vulnerable it’s been all film, because Nines is in danger and he’s panicking. But even with his hands cupped around Nines’s face, Gavin keeps a little bit of distance, that same bare minimum “arm’s length” we see so many times. And the questions he asks are non-invasive, once he realizes that mentioning Ada just freaks Nines out, and then the questions just turn to pleas: “Don’t fall asleep.” Only after Nines falls unconscious does Gavin allow himself to get any closer, but even then he doesn’t let himself be face to face with Nines. The first thing Gavin does is turn Nines’s back to him, forcing that emotional distance, the exception being the arm slung across Nines’s chest to keep him upright. This is the closest they’ve been, other than after Gavin’s nightmare, and Gavin is still keeping that emotional distance by deliberately pushing Nines away from him.

Onto CyberLife. Here’s the other instance where they’re only open when they believe the other won’t know. This shit also hurt like a motherfucker because Gavin’s internal conflict is at its peak here. You can see he’s having a, for lack of a better word for it, “deathbed” moment; a sort of “now or never” feeling. He’s terrified of acknowledging how he feels, much less verbalizing those feelings to the man he loves, but at the same time, he’s worried that if he doesn’t do it now, he may never get a chance. And this is demonstrated wonderfully in how Gavin approaches Nines (and, once again, he’s down to one layer of clothing, just a simple t-shirt). At first, he hangs back from Nines’s hospital bed, looking anywhere but Nines’s face, and talking about how they need Nines for the case; vague, impersonal, dancing around the topic. Until Tina knocks on the window, basically giving him silent permission to switch tracks entirely. It’s at this point that Gavin closes some distance and parallels Nines’s earlier gesture after his nightmare, when Nines reached out to hold his hand; he reaches out and places his hand over Nines’s. (Also, another brilliant parallel? Nines reaching out to touch Gavin when he’s at his lowest point—after his nightmare—and holding his hand, basically saying “I accept you,” and Gavin reaching out to Nines when he’s at his most vulnerable—doubly powerful because Nines’s skin is deactivated and Gavin used to hate androids, so seeing him like this is his truest form—at the hospital, basically saying “I accept you.” God. Poetic cinema, my dudes.) Even moves the chair closer. And then he finally looks Nines in the face and spills his heart and soul out to him, piece by piece. And even when the heart monitor starts beeping, he doesn’t pull away. He keeps his hand firmly planted, only scoots back in the chair for a moment to check the machines, before immediately pulling back in and deliberately staying close, which, for somebody who has as toxic a relationship with touch as he does, is massive. (And, as we saw from the deleted scene, he felt safe enough to fall asleep on Nines’s bed. He looked at this shitty situation and said “I trust him” and put his goddamn head on Nines’s arm and fell asleep. Like. FUCK.)

And now, Nines’s corrupted Zen Garden. This is one of the most powerful moments of the film. In the past, Nines has almost never been the one to initiate contact with Zen Gavin, it’s always been the other way around (Gavin fixing Nines’s collar, Gavin approaching him while he’s analyzing the case), with the notable exception being Nines reaching out to cup Gavin’s cheek. But he’s internalized Gavin’s touch sensitivities so much that even his mind palace version displays the same behaviors, only initiating touch when he’s comfortable. Nines doesn’t violate Zen Gavin’s space either, lets Gavin decide what’s okay. And this is where he breaks that pattern. In his panic, Nines rushes forward without thought to envelope Gavin in a desperate hug— and is met with empty air. The minute Nines tries to reverse their dynamic is when he’s deprived of Gavin’s touch. Because of Ada’s meddling, Nines can no longer interact with this perfect world he’s constructed, and Gavin is, once again, just out of reach. Nine spends the rest of the conversation with his body language painfully open, pleading with Gavin to stay using everything but his words, and I think it speaks goddamn volumes that when he finally agrees to delete him, there is no grand gesture. Nines doesn’t swoop in and kiss Zen Gavin goodbye, nor does he hug him, or even say a proper farewell. He simply nods, turns his back, and walks away, and Gavin, after a moment’s lag, swivels his head to watch, with a soft smile on his face. Nines has realized that this Zen Gavin is a fool’s errand that he cannot hope to sustain, and his last act before wiping him entirely is to metaphorically say “I am done with you. I am walking away and I am not looking back and I am saying goodbye.” Which is so goddamn powerful, I cannot.

Okay. The moment we’ve all been waiting for.

The reunion scene.

This scene hits so much harder because all the previous scenes have kept so much distance between the two protagonists. If there had been more instances of close proximity earlier in the film, I don’t think this scene would carry the same weight it did, but as such, up until this point, there’s always been at least a foot or two of space between Gavin and Nines (and in the instances of them touching, they’re either side by side and not looking at each other or front to back and not looking at each other). But I digress, let’s get into it properly.

Setup time! Gavin’s still in just his t-shirt, Nines is in Gavin’s jacket (Narrative foil from earlier, baby!), and tensions are high. Brushing past all of Tina and Chris’s intervening dialogue, let’s talk physicality. Gavin fucking freezes the minute Nines is in the room, arms held at his sides, the most open his stance has ever been when Nines was awake to see it. Nines, in turn, also keeps his hands to the side. Gavin, disbelieving, takes a step forward, but because he’s also terrified as fuck that Nines heard him and will reject him, he holds out a halfway defensive arm, though there’s not much conviction in it, as its merely held halfway up and doesn’t cross in front of his torso at all. Nines continues to approach, although slowly, so as not to scare Gavin off, because Nines cares so much for Gavin and the last thing he needs is to make him panic, not when something this monumental is at stake. Gavin, with even more internal conflict, continues his approach, daring to hope that maybe this will turn out okay, until Nines says “I heard you.” The realization that Nines essentially saw the deepest darkest parts of him makes Gavin take a step back, but he also maintains the eye contact they’ve been holding; the subtle balance between “I want to run because holy fuck he saw too much, but also I want to stay because I think it might be it this time” is so gorgeous. Of course, once Nines makes it clear that he isn’t running, even though he heard Gavin’s entire confession, Gavin gets slightly more confident and moves forward again. Drawing from the BTS footage as well, you can see Gavin’s hands are clenched the entire time, until he makes it to Nines, when he can finally let go. And finally, with a cognizant mind, they close that distance, leaving mere inches from one another. Gavin reaches out to touch Nines’s hand, feeling his pulse, before gently turning over Nines’s hand so he can feel Gavin’s pulse. Nines, reflecting his earlier gesture, connects Zen Gavin to this Gavin by reaching out to cup Gavin’s face. And then they close that gap entirely and kiss. But it gets even better because, though Nines prods, it’s ultimately Gavin that makes the first move, and I think it always had to to be. Because Nines always lets Gavin move on his own time, even if he steers him in the right direction, occasionally. It would feel wrong if Nines moved first, because he doesn’t need to kiss for romance, but is willing to do so if Gavin wants, and the way this is done, it’s so clear that Gavin wants. This is just a testament to the amazing actors for portraying this so clearly (I know this scene’s been analyzed seven ways to Sunday, but like. The way Gavin’s eyebrows furrow up in the sheer desperation to be closer? The gentle sigh of relief from Nines? The single spin of the LED from yellow to blue the instant they connect? The way Gavin, someone who hates being touched, chases the fucking kiss as Nines pulls away? Like?? Incredible???). And even better, this whole scene is very much a give and take, as both characters let down the barriers they have built up.

Let me put it this way. Nines’s greatest treasure is his mind, and he protects it fiercely for fear of abuse. Gavin’s greatest treasure is his bodily autonomy, and as such, he protects himself from unwanted touch for fear of that autonomy being taken away. And this kiss is such a dialogue of back and forth, give and take. Nines exposes his mind (”I heard you. ‘A force you can’t live without’?” and of course, “You love me.”), opening up his most vulnerable part of himself. Gavin responds in kind by exposing his physicality, by taking Nines’s hand. Nines, once again, exposes his mind by copying his gesture from Zen Gavin, bringing to light one of his most closely guarded secrets and connecting his mind to his real world experiences. And Gavin exposes his touch, once more, by being the one to initiate the kiss.

If you’ll allow me to circle back to the parallel hand-holding from earlier, it ties into this idea of “mind vs. body.” When Nines takes Gavin’s hand after his nightmare, he is demonstrating that he accepts Gavin’s mind. Nines, who values intellect and personality above all else, demonstrates that he loves Gavin for his mind and not his body here, saying “I accept you and your mind, no matter how flawed you think it is.” Gavin, on the other hand, not only has a rough history with androids, but a rough history with physicality. When he takes Nines’s hand at CyberLife, Gavin is demonstrating that he accepts Nines’s body as it is—metal and plastic and synthskin, not flesh and bone—basically saying “I accept you and your body, no matter how flawed you think it is.” They are able to accept the closely guarded facets of one another in moments of heightened emotion and I think that’s incredible.

And after the reunion, the body language is so different. Nines willingly gets up in Gavin’s space without Gavin pushing him away (leaning over him to discuss how to track Ada down), and, of course, gives him his jacket back. Outside Ada’s warehouse, they stand much closer together, nearly touching on the hood of the car, and even make much more deliberate eye contact, shying away less. But what I really like about it is that they don’t do a total 180. That’s not how recovery works. Gavin’s still facing away from Nines during the briefing, Gavin and Nines are closer on the hood, yes, but neither Nines nor Gavin reach out a hand to touch. They’re making little baby steps and it’s wonderful.

Last but not least, the balcony. The culmination of all this.

Despite all they’ve been through, Gavin and Nines still hold distance between themselves on the balcony, though they’re a little freer with the direct eye contact and body language. Gavin’s arms are no longer crossed in front of him, he actually looks toward Nines a lot more. Nines is leaned up against the railing, facing Gavin and meeting his gaze, though you can tell Nines is bothered because his arms are crossed in front of him, preventing him from being totally open. And when he starts to say something that sounds like regret, Gavin also crosses his arms in a defensive position, until Nines reassures him that it’s not Gavin, it’s him. At which point, Gavin is the most vocal he’s ever been about his feelings (I think Michelle pointed out this is the one time in the film Gavin even slightly alludes to Nines being attractive, like the dork he is) and assures Nines that he doesn’t need anything sexual to make this relationship be one he wants to pursue. He keeps his body language remarkably open, turning to face Nines entirely and keeping his arms to the side. Nines, upon realizing Gavin means what he says, has his moment of initiating touch and reaches out to cup Gavin’s face again, uncrossing his arms to do so. There’s yet another beautiful genuine moment of connection where the opposite of the original kiss happens: Nines opens up physically (regarding his interfacing), Gavin opens up mentally (flirting with Nines as opposed to just awkwardly touching him), and Nines closes the distance once more, kissing Gavin as the sun sets just out of frame, turning Gavin’s face into the light. Yet another beautiful narrative foil. Stunning. Ideal. (Also, a note on the confession, the fact that this kiss cements the idea that “This won’t be easy, but it will be worth it, because being with you is just better” just kills me every goddamn time. They’re really willing to put in the work to make this relationship work! Which is amazing!) And then they linger, foreheads pressed together, in the most intimate display of affection in the entire movie. Soft smiles, hands on bodies, completely open and vulnerable and free. Just ... content.

All in all, hats off for really emphasizing each character’s troubled relationship with touch and how that carries over into how they behave around one another. From how Gavin uses his hands and other items as shields while making direct eye contact to how Nines lets Gavin come to him and respects his partner’s boundaries so much that even his brain version of him has these same boundaries, the use of distance and touch and their slow journey to getting physically closer in the spaces they occupy is a fantastic way of showing the progression of their relationship and I consider it an honor to get to see this story unfold. The fact that Nines’s journey would be meaningless without Gavin’s to mirror it and amplify it and vice versa is testimony to the incredible writing showcased here. Bravo to the cast and crew, really.

Tl;dr (and honestly, I wouldn’t blame you) The moments of intimacy only carry as much weight as they do because in every scene prior to them Gavin and Nines hold meaningful distance between them and the only times they break that subliminal pattern are in times of extreme stress or vulnerability.

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