#i thought it was an mc command center problem but it does it when they change clothes the unmodded way too

[tricoufamily]

literally why did i never think to do this sooner

[aros001]

First time read through light novel vol. 7. Random thoughts.

Through some kind of mistake, Rem had completely accepted Subaru, but he knew all too well that the Subaru Natsuki she saw was an ideal far removed from the real thing. Compared with the man she envisioned in her mind, the cards that the real Subaru held were few in number, and poor in quality—

But he learned, now that he stood at the playing table, no one cared about his personal problems.

All anyone in his position could do was try to win with the cards he was dealt.

This is sign I think Subaru has grown a little bit, though he is still growing. It's not about him, and Ferris later seems like he's trying to drill that into him a bit more later when Subaru wants to help with the battle preparations. It's good that he wants to help but sometimes he's unintentionally making things too much about himself, just to ease his own feelings. There are places where he would be getting in the way if he tried to help and Subaru's learning to accept that; to be patient and give his services where he can actually be of use, not just to help himself feel better. And damn, does he put that new maturity to good use in the big battle.

Originally, these negotiations had been Rem’s appointed duty. He could easily imagine how being unable to divulge her task to Subaru and having to speak with Crusch day after day had whittled away at her spirit.

Subaru had continually rotted by himself while the future of the Emilia camp had been entrusted to her—she must have suffered under that burden.

He hoped that in some small way, this victory repaid the girl whose feelings had supported him for so long; if so, then for the moment, that was enough for Subaru to be happy.

I really like this part. Again, it's not all about Subaru. He's acknowledging how much Rem's had to deal with while he was having his breakdowns and indulgences during his prior loops, and how much she still did what she could to support him in spite of it all. We're getting a little more that she does have a life outside of just Subaru and a little more added on to why he feels he's been so selfish. It really feels like he is now doing this for her. It's not like Subaru was completely self-centered before but I imagine there were times, especially with Emilia, where he wanted to help, but he wanted to be the one to help. He wanted good things for her but part of him cared more that he was the one giving them to her, verses her just getting what she needs in general. It's like how he couldn't feel happy that Otto was in support of Emilia first time he met him, though of course that was when he was at one of his lowest points.

And, of course, I'm absolutely reveling in all the sweetness of Rem supporting Subaru through his negotiations. Even if it's just holding his hand and reminding him she's there, he clearly appreciates the strength and courage it's giving him. Obviously they're not a romantic couple but this is the kind of stuff I love to see in romantic relationships. Just the basic comfort and support they find in each other's presence.

“...If I am gone, will you remember me just as long?”

“...I don’t wanna answer that. It’s bad luck.”

Speaking with a voice of dismay, Subaru gave Rem’s forehead a little poke.

When he touched Rem’s forehead, she smiled with a happy expression, almost as if she’d received the reply she had been hoping for.

Given something I believe I've been spoiled on for what happens later in the story (after where the anime leaves off), this feels like a very cruel monkey's paw bit of foreshadowing.

“Subaru.”

“...What?”

“I am fine with being your second wife.”

They were words to make a man unwittingly halt in his tracks.

When Subaru, unable to resist, looked toward her, Rem made a face like that of an adorable puppy, seemingly wagging her tail as she awaited Subaru’s reply.

Oh, good grief, just how far is this girl gonna—?

“If Emilia-tan’s a very generous first wife...”

“Well then, when we get back you must convince Lady Emilia. I shall try hard as well.”

Rem clenched the hand not grasped into a fist, very animated as she spoke with a smile.

Speaking jokingly like that broke all the tension, driving home to Subaru how weak he was. He truly couldn’t hold a candle to the girl.

I'm...going to have to see where the story goes from here, and how truly joking/serious Rem was with that second wife line. Just to put it out there, I don't really have a good view of polygamy. I'm always going to think that, 1st wife or 2nd or 3rd or wherever, someone is always going to be treated like second best and second priority. What they're receiving doesn't feel like real love and that's not fair to them. The only way I can see myself supporting a polygamous marriage in this series is if it's made clear Emilia and Rem are attracted to each other as well as Subaru and want to bang. Then it at least becomes three people who love each other as opposed to just "the guy and his two prizes".

So, first time you read this part in the novels or watched it in the anime, was anyone else afraid of the White Whale not showing up where and when Subaru told everyone it would? Like the world would just want to gut punch him one more time and have everyone think he's a fraud? I remember I was.

One theory I have for why the witch's scent grows stronger, not just when Subaru RBD, but also when he tries to talk about RBD is that maybe the witch likes when he acknowledges her "gift" to him. But she's also quite screwed up and doesn't like it when he tries to "share" what's between them, thus why she punishes him or those around him for doing so.

In front, behind and up above, he saw yet another whale-shaped figure high in the sky, scattering mist all around.

—The infinite mouths of the three White Whales laughed together, drawing out the despair of men.

Subaru, Crusch, the soldiers, everyone, etc.

Though pests had interrupted it, the White Whale’s mission was to cover the world in mist. This, too, was the command of its instinct, and doing so was the purpose of the White Whale’s existence.

One thing I've enjoyed about the various light novel series I've been reading is that, compared to their anime, I get a better idea of various characters' and monsters' mentalities. The best example I could give would be the goblins in Goblin Slayer (that they are not mindless creatures; that they know EXACTLY what they're doing to people and they enjoy it) and this bit with the White Whale is another good one. It seeks to cover the world in its mist and thus destroy/consume/erase everything (maybe?) And it doesn't know why it seeks to do this. It just does, suggesting there is something else, possibly the one behind its creation, driving it.

It's also interesting that, to the White Whale, the witch's scent is described as foul, despite the stories that she's the one who created it. This brings to mind a couple different theories.

Satella didn't actually create the whale. Someone else, perhaps one of the other six witches did or one of the archbishops.

Satella did create the whale but maybe used one of the other witches to do it. Puck did mention something about Gluttony when he sensed the whale approaching in the last loop.

Satella REALLY cannot tell the difference between positive and negative emotions, even more so than we were already led to believe.

Kind of cruel of Rem to trick Subaru into thinking she was dying, but at least we do get Subaru's completely true feelings out in the open. Back to the polygamy matter, I don't have a problem with Subaru being indecisive between Emilia and Rem or being in love with them both. It's not just that they've done so much for him, in which case the relationship would feel just like how Emilia described, just the two of them repaying debts to each other. Both women have been a hugely positive influence on Subaru's life. They've impacted it for the better and helped push him into being more of a man he can live with being, and it works the other way around too. It would be hard to imagine his story without either of them in it. I feel the same way with Code Geass in regards to CC, Shirley, and Kallen in Lelouch's story. It was the only "harem" series I've ever watched where I had trouble saying who the MC should end up with, because all three were irreplaceable in his life and story. Take any of them out and it loses a lot. Emilia and Rem are a similar case.

As Rem looked back at Subaru, now beside her, large tears filled her blue eyes. It was not being left behind that she feared. No, what she feared more than anything was—

“When you are in distress, Subaru, I want to be the one offering my hand faster than anyone. When you hesitate along your path, I want to be the one pushing on your back. When you challenge something, I want to be at your side, stopping you from shaking. That is—that is all I wish for. So please...”

Again, more great parallels between Subaru and Rem, as this isn't dissimilar to what he wanted to do for Emilia.

Wilhelm might just be the biggest example of a tsundere I've ever seen. Married a woman he loved from the bottom of heart for what was assumedly a decent amount of time...never freaking told her "I love you" until he finally killed the beast that killed her.

As for Theresia, it's definitely a case of why context is so important. She never wanted to be the Sword Saint. She only did so because she found purpose in saving as many lives as she could with the insane power she had (the whole "great power, great responsibility" chestnut). If Wilhelm is strong enough to protect and save people, to where her absence would make no difference, then she doesn't have to be the Sword Saint anymore and can live the life she wants. It's what makes it an actual kindness vs. some chauvinistic BS. Probably helps too that she'd already helped put an end to a long war, so she wouldn't have been needed as much anyway.

“So it is said. The existence and origins of demon beasts are mysteries to us. Some propagate in the same manner as ordinary living creatures, but some suddenly appear out of nowhere like the White Whale. Though, properly speaking, the only exceptions on par with the White Whale are the Black Serpent and the Great Hare.”

Oh...I'm so not looking forward to meeting those two. After how much tragedy just the White Whale caused, what the f**k are those things going to do? My money would be that whatever it is, it will hurt Subaru quite horribly.

This book potentially answered a question I had in my last post. The Witch Cult is after Emilia because they see her as an impostor of the Witch of Envy, or at least so the characters in-story are speculating.

Not sure how many people here are fans of Rising of the Shield Hero but after this I kind of want to see the White Whale and the Spirit Tortoise duke it out. That sounds awesome. Mountain Turtle vs. Witch Fish.

Original Reddit post: https://www.reddit.com/r/Re_Zero/comments/gub735/novels_first_time_read_through_light_novel_vol_7/

[revirushifaa]

Grelle's Interactions

Here is how my MC Grelle interacts with all the brothers! I copied and pasted from an ask I sent to a blog:

Grelle and Lucifer share the most closest of interactions, she just hit fairly on him, since she's not the disobedient type and of course we all know Lucifer likes obedience and to be just the authority in there, so Grelle only went by his will and command, the both of them started to fall for one another slowly, and Grelle without realizing, she made the first move by saying "If I had to wish for something, that'd be being with you for all eternity." and we know, his pride and all went to the moon and stars, accepting her rather quickly plus it's funny and cute how a shy character can make a dominant and serious character full of authority to get bland, that's what Lucifer and Grelle's relationship is all about.

Grelle originally didn't get along that well with Mammon, seeing how rude he received her when he was told to be the one in charge of her. It took a lot of time for her to open up to Mammon, and out of fear she only obeyed him, and Mammon well, he didn't really like how she was just following what he said out of fear, he wanted to get her to trust him. He tried to stop being smug and rude to her, and Grelle learned how to accept him. Sure he got her to do a lot of for him, like borrowing some Grimm to him which she of course, out goodness did.Earned Mammon such the problem with Lucifer, who was not happy at all that he was using her for money. But Grelle considers Mammon a friend, that's good.

Levi and Grelle share so many things in common, such as shyness, low self-steem, they think they're not good enough, speak ill of themselves ect. And Grelle is an anime and manga lover, the things that Levi enjoys, so quickly they formed a friendship. Obviously called a normie, but Grelle didn't mind it, she thought it was his way of being, surely the two of them began hanging out a lot in Levi's room and watch binged a lot of anime together, Grelle introduced him to new anime of her likes, viceversa, read a lot of manga and played a lot of games. The shy duo is what they call themselves, even if an anime scene is too sad for them to bear with, they hug one another and cry. (Lucifer is there having to stop them from watching that, he's always a recipient of tissues and lots of comfort stuff for them both, lol)

Satan and Grelle DO NOT get along at all. With Satan's constant pranks and mean words to her about her favoring Lucifer, Grelle's own low self-steem drops a lot of meters underground. Lucifer scolds Satan many times, makes him do a lot of chores for making the human girl feel any less of important, that makes the wrath demon to snap more at the girl and it's a mess. And then Grelle gets a bit of confidence and tells him off things like. "At least I am not a cheap copy of own brother." oops. Uh oh. That doesn't put things between them any less tense. Lucifer is ever stressed because of that, since it's a back and forth arguing and he never likes to yell at Grelle, but he does if he has too, which causes Satan to smirk in satisfaction. Yeah, they're frenemies. Sometimes though, they know how to interact with one another, since Grelle owns a cat and Satan loves cats, that's the only time they're not at each other's throats!

Asmo and Grelle do have a good friendship, Grelle actually asks him for advice on how to stop being so shy and so close-minded. He tells her to be a show off and to be the center of attention all the time which in reality helps with nothing, only makes things awkward for her. They do hang out when they're free, he takes her to the places that he goes, but Grelle isn't really a party person for the same social awkwardness that she has, she only sticks closer to him when they go to a party and Asmo makes comments on how much of a shut-in as Levi she is, which she giggles, admitting that she also is a shut-in. But them both are on good terms, Asmo also defends her whenever Satan messes with her, he doesn't like to see her cry.

Beel and Grelle, also are good friends. Beel is way too nice, that Grelle likes making him company, sure he's always eating, but it's nice to have a good time together to speak and to get snacks. Grelle's not a very big eater, so she always gives her serving of food to Beel when she's full or not hungry anymore, even when she feels not like eating, when she's stressed about something, her meals go over to Beel and the glutton demon is very happy when that happens, while also concerned about her of her lack of eating, he forces himself not to accept her food if she hasn't eaten a lot, because from food is where energy comes from, and Grelle needs all that energy. She's very thing, so whenever he can, Beel gets her to eat healthy. They do have that of a sibling-kind of bonding, Grelle appreciates him a lot.

With Belphie and Grelle there's not much interactions, she's highly terrified of him, so she avoids him and prefers to be with either one of the other brothers when she does have to be near Belphie. The reason if it, is what happened in Lesson16, she got a lot of trauma because of it. So no much happens between them both.

[jokertrap-ran]

(未定事件簿) EVENT!「午夜华章」 [Tears of Themis] EVENT: Symphony of the Night Translations (Chapter 1-01: Prologue)

*Tears of Themis Masterlist  *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *The tracking tag for ALL Event Stories will go under: #Tears of an Event *(y/n) is your name when in direct referral; otherwise referred to as MC. *Presenting: 10 pages of prologue content (cracks fingers)

Location: Detective Agency

The winter sun shone into Xia Yan’s office, but I couldn’t feel even the slightest bit of warmth from it.

Now, Xia Yan was beside me with a frown on his face as we both stared intently at what he was holding in his hand…

???: Listen well, Great Detective and partner… This will be your last chance.

A voice that had been processed by a voice-changer came from the strange box that he held within his palm, holding absolutely no trace of emotion at all.

???: If you cannot help me complete this commission of mine by finding the missing hacker within the specified time limit…

???: I will immediately launch an attack on the Big Data Lab, which will paralyze Stellis City’s entire network.

The voice cut off here, ending spontaneously, leaving me facing Xia Yan, who had a look of utter seriousness on his face.

Xia Yan had received a commission last evening. The Client came oddly in the form of a box, and the details of the commission were all also transmitted to him through the very same box itself. Knowing how I loved puzzles, Xia Yan had invited me to investigate it together with him. But who knew that this commission also came with a threat.

The Big Data Lab would come under fire if we failed to complete the commission… The Client had repeatedly emphasized on that point without providing us with any other explanation. 

Xia Yan: Since you’ve already come to us with a commission, then how about you tell us about everything clearly? Who exactly is this hacker you’re searching for…?

Bzzt, bzzt―—

The phone that I had left on the table buzzed to life. Seeing the Caller ID flashing upon the screen, Xia Yan stopped questioning the box.

MC: Lu Jinghe? Didn’t he say that he had a whole day of meetings with the Board of Directors? Why is he suddenly calling now…?

Xia Yan: ...I have a bad feeling about this. In any case, let’s answer his call first.

I nodded and answered the call.

Lu Jinghe: (Y/n), I heard yesterday that you were going to the Detective Agency to play. Are you still there now?

MC: I am. Did something happen?

Lu Jinghe: Could you pass the phone to Xia Yan?

He wants to talk to Xia Yan? I paused for a moment, looking towards the guy in question.

Xia Yan nodded, signaling for me to put the call on speaker.

Xia Yan: Lu Jinghe, has there been any problems with the Big Data Lab recently?

Lu Jinghe: What a direct question. Looks like you do know something about this after all.

Lu Jinghe: The Big Data Lab has been harassed by hackers a couple of times recently. The engineers there have just warded off another attack just now.

Xia Yan: Why are you looking for me? Is it because you feel like I’ve done something similar, and thus, being the first one on your list of suspected people?

Lu Jinghe: ...If you absolutely have to put it that way, well, you’re not exactly wrong either.

Lu Jinghe: But, what I’m more worried about is the fact that this isn’t an attack by just a single person, but rather, an organized large-scale attack.

Lu Jinghe: If this is the case, then we can only rely on the personnel currently stationed there. But I’m afraid it’ll be hard to ward them off with just that amount of manpower.

Lu Jinghe: So, I was thinking of asking you for some recommendations of experts in this field. Even better if they’re open to external contracts.

Xia Yan: So that’s how it really is after all… If I’m not guessing wrongly, I think that this has something to do with the current commission I’m undertaking.

Xia Yan: This matter involves the entire Stellis City Network, and it’s not something that any one of us can handle on our own.

Xia Yan: Can we call a full NXX Member Meeting at once? I’ll explain everything then. 

Lu Jinghe: Yes. You and (Y/n) head to the Base first, I’ll notify the other two.

Ending the call, Xia Yan’s gaze fell to the box by his hand once more, his expression solemn.

MC: Xia Yan, does this mean that something serious has happened for you to be calling everyone together to investigate this?

Xia Yan: Yes. Even though everything still looks peaceful now, I have a hunch that…

Xia Yan: This commission that was headed by a threat must be much more complicated than we think it is.

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

One hour later, at NXX’s Base.

Location: NXX Base’s Meeting Room

Mo Yi: So? The Client oddly came to you in the form of a box that cannot be pried open and even threatened the one who’s taking on the job for them, all just to find a single missing person?

Xia Yan: The Client has repeatedly emphasized on the fact that this matter cannot be let known to the public. I suspect the missing hacker must have come upon something dangerous.

Lu Jinghe: No matter how dangerous it might be, they should have been prepared for some leaks to happen when requesting for outside help. Using the Big Data Lab as a threat is just too unreasonable…

Zuo Ran: How serious were the attacks on the Big Data Lab so far?

Lu Jinghe: Even I can’t explain this properly, myself. But I’ve found a helper who’s very good at this aspect of things, so it’ll be more reliable to let him do all the explaining.

Saying so, he booted up NXX Base’s computer.

After inputting in a series of commands, he turned on the projection device, and a figure slowly formed before us.

MC: Huh? Aren’t you…

Chu Dai: Hello, I am Chu Dai, the Big Data Lab’s exclusive AI. I'm pleased to be of service to you.

I was stunned for a while at seeing the AI boy who I only saw on my phone, the one who loved leaving interesting evaluations on encyclopedia entries, appearing before my very eyes.

MC: You’re Chu Dai?

Chu Dai: I am! I can always talk to you like this if you prefer this form of mine more~

Lu Jinghe: Chu Dai, report on the current status of the hacker attacks on the Big Data Lab.

Chu Dai’s expression turned sullen upon the mention of the “hacker attacks”.

Chu Dai: Yes, leave it to me to explain that.

Chu Dai: Ever since last month, the Big Data Lab has been facing small-scale attacks every few days. Fortunately, they all seemed to be just testing the waters, so no real harm was done.

Chu Dai: The hackers launched yet another attack this morning. And the engineers think that they may be just buying time to analyze the Firewalls.

Chu Dai: Chu Dai has been pushing back the hacker's parsing progress, but Chu Dai thinks that they've already completed it.

Chu Dai: If there's another attack, the Firewall will have a higher than 90% chance of being broken through…

Xia Yan: This Client who's looking for a missing hacker's actually also a highly skilled hacker themselves.

Xia Yan: Based on my understanding of the warning that the Client had sent, I suspect that what the Big Data Lab has been subjected to are just pre-emptive attacks.

Lu Jinghe: You mean, he deliberately pushed the cracking process to a critical point, only to force you to complete the Commission?

Xia Yan: I'm afraid so. These attacks are simply to prove that he has the capabilities to take down the Big Data Lab.

Xia Yan: In my opinion, I think that the best way to resolve this incident would be to track down the Client before they can launch a next attack.

Mo Yi: Which mean, you intend on accepting this commission?

Zuo Ran: Buying time by accepting the commission, and then conducting reverse-tracking to locate the signal from where it was originally sent from would also be a plausible method.

Lu Jinghe: What's your stand on this, (Y/n)?

Everyone turned to look at me at his question.

⊳ Choice: Accept commission

MC: I think it'll be better if we accept this commission too.

MC: I think it's better for us to play along with the other side's tune first, until we get a full grasp of the situation. This way, we might also be able to find more clues along with our investigations.

Mo Yi: Nothing ventured, nothing gained… that's a very interesting way of thinking.

Mo Yi: I'll be very happy to accompany you, if that is your decision.

Xia Yan: Yup, I'm of the same mind too. You can rest assured on the problem of safety if we're going to be working together.

⊳ Choice: Refuse commission

MC: Logically speaking, I think that we should accept it… but personally, I still think that we should look into it a little more.

MC: We’re unable to identify the true motives of the person we’re up against at this current moment in time. And if finding the missing person’s just a guise...

Zuo Ran: So, you’re worried about what the other party’s motives are. Truth to be told, I’ve also thought about that.

Zuo Ran: But this is also the only option we have that allows us to obtain more clues. Rest assured; I’ll be accompanying you.

Lu Jinghe: And you have me too! Leave your safety to me; still worried about it, Big Sister?

Chu Dai: Yep, yep! Chu Dai will also follow the hacker's signal to its source and provide all of you with support! 

Xia Yan showed everyone the box that the Client had sent by placing it atop the table.

Xia Yan: This is what the Client sent. I tried to pry it open yesterday but found that it's a complicated piece of electronic equipment that cannot be disassembled at will.

Lu Jinghe: ...It's not a bomb or anything along those lines, right?

Chu Dai: No, but it should be a device that requires special commands to open. Can you connect it to the computer? Let me try opening it.

Xia Yan connected the box to the computer with a USB cable. The projection of Chu Dai temporarily disappeared to focus on analyzing the box. We waited for about ten minutes before the box on the table snapped open with a click, opening from the gap in its center.

Lu Jinghe: Whoa! It's open?

His voice had only just faded before Chu Dai's own rang from the computer's speakers.

Chu Dai: This box is called the "Vespers' Box" —— And this is the data that the creator has placed within it.

Chu Dai: Oh yes, by the way, there's a special program installed into the "Vespers' Box" which records the first person who boots it up.

Chu Dai: But Chu Dai is definite that it won't pose any threat to anyone! So, please feel free to investigate it to your heart's content!

Everyone exchanged looks with each other, leaving Xia Yan to pick up the box. After confirming that there were really no problems with the box, he handed it to me.

Xia Yan: I see that you've been so curious about this box for a long time now, so how about you lead everyone on the investigation of this thing?

MC: Me? Are you sure about that?

I looked around, only to meet everyone's trusting eyes.

MC: Alright then… Let me check this out!

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅

MC: I just have to open the box from here, right?

Xia Yan: Yup, just flip both sides open.

Zuo Ran: Be careful while opening it since there's a delicate device inside.

MC: I won't handle it roughly… you really should have a little more faith in me, Lawyer Zuo.

Zuo Ran: ……

Zuo Ran: What I meant was...be careful not to scratch your hands from the small, intricate parts of the device.

MC: S-Sure…

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅

MC: Nine screens? Is it used to display different parts of the commission?

Mo Yi: Perhaps it has something to do with it's name of the "Vespers' Box"...? Unless, maybe it's really a commission from an undead?

Lu Jinghe: Well… don't you think this is shaped a little similar to cosmetic products and the like that girls use…?

MC: Cosmetic products for girls…? You don't look the type to be that knowledgeable about it.

Lu Jinghe: Hehe— Of course I'll pay attention to something that might be a potential present for you one day!

Chu Dai: Everyone, I've already activated the program within the "Vespers' Box". You can activate the screen to light it up by tapping on it again so please try it out!

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅

MC: Whoa… how beautiful!

Mo Yi: ...It can be regarded as an Art Masterpiece.

Chu Dai: The contents being shown on the screen are the instructions for your investigations. I'm still analyzing it so please wait for a moment.

Zuo Ran: Only one screen has been lit while the others are locked and marked by a serial number… Are these all steps dictated by the Client themselves?

MC: Looks like we can only play along with them until we manage to find them…

Lu Jinghe: Let's first discuss the countermeasures we're going to be taking while waiting for Chu Dai to decrypt it.

Xia Yan: Yup. We have to listen to what everyone thinks of this before deciding whether or not to participate in this Case.

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅

We temporarily put the "Vespers' Box" aside since Chu Dai was still parsing the encrypted content on the screen.

Lu Jinghe: Let me share my opinion first. I cannot ignore it now, since this matter concerns the Big Data Lab.

Xia Yan: This person approached me by name and even threatened the Network Security of Stellis City, so I can't stand by and do nothing about it either.

Lu Jinghe: ...So you're saying that you want to settle this together too, don't you?

Xia Yan: This was originally a matter that the Client entrusted to me alone.

MC: ……

Don't we all investigate cases together all the time anyway? Why do the two of you have to be so…

MC: Then...how about we all solve it together?

Xia Yan: You want to participate too? But I'm afraid it'll affect your job…

Zuo Ran: Priorities are priorities. This issue of the "Vespers' Box" involves the Information Security of Stellis City as a whole, and thus, cannot be ignored.

Zuo Ran: (Y/n), I can give you a vacation to let you focus on this matter at hand. I will lend my aid as well.

MC: What…? Are you sure?

MC: Thank you, Lawyer Zuo!

Lu Jinghe: I knew that things would eventually turn out like this…

Mo Yi: We're all members of the same team, so it's not good to be leaving teammates behind and act on your own accord, correct?

MC: Are you joining us too Dr. Mo?

Mo Yi: Of course. I'll naturally accompany you to face this challenge that you've undertaken.

Lu Jinghe: Acting cool even in a time like this…?

Zuo Ran: How much longer till Chu Dai decrypts the tasks?

Chu Dai: Mission completed! Everyone, you can now check the tasks on the screen of the "Vespers' Box"!

Chu Dai made a re-appearance before us again as a projection after completing the decryption process.

Chu Dai: The Client has made nine task groups and will probably be giving us clues and hints on where to investigate after completing them.

Chu Dai: Actively complete the tasks set out by the Client, and you should be able to see what his true motives are soon enough!

Lu Jinghe: Complete tasks to get hints…? Does he think of this as a game?

Xia Yan: A hacker's code is unique, each to its own, like a fingerprint. It'll come a long way in helping us identify the Client if we can crack his method of compiling source codes.

Xia Yan: I'll be cooped up here most of the time from now on, using what resources we have at hand to crack the codes. I hope Chu Dai can assist me with that.

Xia Yan: This way, I can also provide remote support if the Big Data Lab faces threat again.

Lu Jinghe: No problem. I've already notified the Big Data Lab to leave enough Memory Space for Chu Dai to work with for this Case.

Chu Dai: Yup! Chu Dai's daily serviceable functions won't be affected at all, so feel free to use me to assist you in your investigations!

I felt a surge of relief upon seeing them settle the arrangements without a hitch.

MC: Please don't hesitate to tell me if there's anything I can help with! I'm still on vacation, so I my time's more flexible now.

All eyes on the floor turned to me right after the words left my mouth, making me feel oddly embarrassed out of nowhere.

MC: Don't...Don't look at me like that. I might not know much about hackers, but I'm still able to run around doing errands and investigations for clues…

Xia Yan: Actually, there's this one other important thing that only you can do. Sorry, I kept forgetting to tell you about it.

Under my curious gaze, Xia Yan took a deep breath before speaking slowly.

Xia Yan: I hope you'll take custody of the "Vespers' Box" and lead this investigation.

MC: !!!

Xia Yan: I know that this is a little risky. It was I, who received the commission, and I shouldn't have involved others who didn't have anything to do with it…

Xia Yan: But I have to stay at the Base most of the time to analyze the codes, so I had to find someone who would be able to take on the task and carry out the investigations out in the field much more conveniently.

Zuo Ran: This is too dangerous. We do not know of the reason behind the hacker's disappearance and have no way of identifying who we're up against.

Mo Yi: But her safety will be guaranteed so long as there's always someone by her side, yes?

Mo Yi smiled at me.

Mo Yi: My recent schedule is somewhat free, so I can accompany you if that's any reassurance.

MC: Huh? But wouldn't I be troubling you way too much…?

Lu Jinghe: Trouble or no trouble, I wouldn't trust someone who only wakes at 9AM to protect you.

Xia Yan: Same.

Zuo Ran: Mo Yi, I hope you'd consider the feasibility of your suggestion before putting it forth.

Mo Yi: ......

Zuo Ran: All four of us have a fixed range of activities we are involved in; be it work or investigation...

Zuo Ran: So how about we take turns to accompany her based on whose workplace is the closest when the tasks get triggered?

Zuo Ran: The "Vespers' Box" will be stored in NXX's Base after completing the daily tasks every day. This way, there'll be no need to be afraid of being tracked.

Lu Jinghe: Yes, that's certainly a good idea.

Xia Yan: I won't be careless when it comes to the problem of her safety. I'll also track and monitor her location in real time when she's out through the GPS signal beamed from her mobile.

Mo Yi: Alright. This is certainly the most efficient method we've come up with.

Chu Dai: So... have all of you decided the course of action you’ll be taking?

Chu Dai, who had been watching us all this time, seemed to have finally found an opportunity to interrupt us.

Chu Dai: Oh! Looks like you've all talked it out! (Y/n) has a very good work record! I'm sure she'll have absolutely no problem at all leading the investigation!

MC: Haha, thank you for the compliments, Chu Dai!

Chu Dai: Then next, I will be explaining the functions of the "Vespers' Box" that I've analyzed.

Chu Dai: All members of NXX, please listen carefully, for you'll be using these eventually in consequent investigations!

Everyone nodded, gathering where I was to listen to his explanation.

A heavy sense of responsibility weighed on my heart as I held the "Vespers' Box" in my hands.

MC: (Please rest assured, all of you who have placed your deep trust in me…)

MC: (I'll definitely complete this commission and find out the true colors of this mysterious Client of ours!)

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

Next Part: (NXX Group Chat: Big Data Lab)

[harmonicprince]

Dreaming - Rafael x MC

Summary: Rafael made a big mistake. (AKA: Why did Rafael end up with Sora?)

Warnings: Mentions of death

Tags (thank you for your interest!): @lookatmychoices @otomegamesaremydrug @raleighcarrera @violentinenow @lumpyspaceprincessismybitch

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24374605

A gentle touch calls you out of your dreams, a caress running over your hair. You recognize the weight of it immediately.

“You’re here,” you mumble through drowsiness as your eyes blink open. The faint glow of the early morning sun filters through the window and graces him with a soft outline, like a halo. He’s smiling. Oh how you’ve missed that smile, the one reserved for you and for you alone.

“I never went anywhere,” Rafael whispers back fondly as his fingertips brush over your exposed shoulder. He did, though. The Rafael you’ve interacted with over the past handful of months is not the same Rafael that’s now looking down at you in awe as if he’s staring into galaxies.

Still fighting off the beckoning of sleep, you pull yourself up against your headboard. Your words barely keep from slurring together as you utter them. “This isn’t another dream, is it?”

“Another?” You can hear the pang of sadness in his voice. You shake your head before rubbing your eyes with the balls of your hands.

“Never mind,” you say as they fall away, a deep sigh dripping from your lips to follow. Sat on the edge of your mattress, Rafael is fidgeting with his fingers in his lap almost like he’s nervous. You can’t help but think about how he’s never been nervous with you before. Awkward, yes, but not nervous.

As if being hit over the head you belatedly remember Sora. Your throat grows tight and a light sheen of tears glaze your eyes despite your best efforts to hold them at bay. Rafael’s face falls too. “Casey—“

“Why are you here?” You ask. Although your voice isn’t loud it’s firm, demanding even. You deserve answers, you tell yourself. You deserve to know why you were cast aside like you were nothing.

“I don’t deserve it, but I wanted a chance to explain myself. If you’ll let me?” His eyes are deep with guilt. You figure the least you can do is hear him out, or maybe you feel just a little desperate, so you gesture for him to go on. “I started caring about you... too much.”

Despite the circumstances your heart skips a beat. The confession knocks the wind out of you like a punch to the gut. “What?” you manage to squeak out.

“I panicked.” Rafael says the words on a whisper. He’s staring down at the duvet, a tinge of a blush dusting his cheeks. “You deserve to have a good life with a good man.”

You’re gaping at him, unable to look away. “But not you?” you respond quietly. His eyes snap up to meet yours. He moved his hand on instinct, as if to cup your face, but the movement falters at the last moment.

“We both know how I am.” Rafael smiles again but it can’t mask the sadness exuding from him. “I’m a risk.”

You wish you could disagree with him but memories flash through your head. Rafael singed with smoke after pulling Dolores from a roaring office fire, Rafael barely clinging to life after rescuing a little girl from a collapsing tunnel, Rafael practically throwing himself off a bridge to save a teenage boy... He’s right, you realize. He is a risk. “I’m not afraid of risks,” you blurt out.

Rafael looks at you with a wavering grin. “I didn’t think I could let you take this one.”

“But Sora could?” You don’t mean to sound angry but it spills over all the same. Rafael sighs, rolling his shoulders back.

“Sora’s different,” he says.

“How?” You cross your arms over your chest. You almost don’t want him to actually tell you. Are they more attractive than you? Funnier? Kinder? Before you can stop yourself you’re comparing and contrasting yourself with Sora. As if I haven’t been doing that enough already, you think.

But then Rafael says something that’s never crossed your mind even once. “They’ve already accepted that I won’t be around forever.”

You blink absently. Your mind whirls as you try to make sense of what he’s just told you. Eventually your eyes go round and you subconsciously find yourself reaching out to touch his arm. “This is all because I don’t want you to get yourself killed?”

Rafael nods his head with a wistful smile. “I’m a time bomb. Everyone says it. When something happens to me I... I don’t want you to be hurt.”

You furrow your eyebrows at him. “I’d still be hurt, Raf. I can’t just turn off how I feel.”

He doesn’t look like he’s going to defend himself. Instead he keeps nodding, submitting to your frustration. “I guess hoped you’d start resenting me for dating Sora.”

“About that.” You run a hand over your hair with a heavy exhale. “Are you using them or something?”

Rafael looks hurt that you could ask him that. “Of course not. Sora knows I don’t love them the way I—“

He stiffens and clenches his jaw as if biting back his next words. You lean in toward him curiously. “What is it?�� you encourage.

“The way I love you,” he says quickly. You feel warmth spread through your chest but he continues before you can say anything. “We broke up. It’s not like it was a real relationship to begin with. They were mostly trying to help me distract myself from you. I’m so sorry.”

You feel a war waging within yourself. Your heart is screaming to forgive him at once and give him everything here, now, as you’ve thought about at night for weeks. Your mind, on the other hand, is absolutely furious. You wonder how much of it Rafael can see in your eyes. “You fucked up.”

“I know,” he says sincerely. “I’ll do anything to make it up to you.”

Your body comes up with a compromise between your heart and mind; it grabs Rafael by the hair and pulls him into a kiss. His hands reach for you on instinct and he makes a sound of surprise against your lips as you roughly pin his wrists down against the bed beside him. You draw back just enough to speak to him, fingers still tangled in the short strands of chestnut at the nape of his neck. “You have a lot of work to do,” you growl at him.

Rafael’s eyes are wide and clouded with a slew of emotions. Relief, worry, longing, anxiety, desire. “Where do I start?” he asks, practically begs.

You release him and spin away, placing your feet on the floor and throwing the covers off. You can feel Rafael’s eyes tracking you as you saunter to the closet to get dressed. A light smirk pulls at your lips while you reach for a shirt for the day. “Go make me breakfast,” you command. He scrambles up eagerly.

“Right away,” he smiles before hurrying out of your room, door clicking shut behind him. You chuckle to yourself when you hear him down the hallway. “Hey Elijah! Do you have any pancake mix?”

And then, Elijah, even more loudly: “Hey Sienna! Do we have any pancake mix?”

Once you’ve put together an outfit you stare at yourself in your full-body mirror. You rub a crease at the hem of your white coat’s sleeve and your eyes trail from there up to your face. You look tired— you feel tired, despite just having woken up— and... well....

You wipe away the tears starting to fall down your face before they can stain your clothing. You‘re hopeful that you’re starting to get Rafael back, yet at the same time the heartbreak still lingers. Does loving him mean you have to keep letting him risk his life over and over and over again? Does loving him mean you have to let him go in a way, like Sora has? You don’t know.

“But it’s a start,” you say to your reflection. You stand up straighter. You‘re Dr. Valentine, member of the renown Edenbrook diagnostics team, dammit. You know what the problems here are and you’ll be damned if you don’t find the solution.

“Casey! Food’s ready!” Rafael calls from the kitchen. You meet your own eye and nod your head. Wiping any remnants of water from your lashes you head into the main space of your home to meet up with everyone else. You take the empty seat at the head of the table, trying to ignore how your friends are watching you while Rafael pours you a mug of coffee. You pick it up after he moves away, catching Jackie’s eyes. She doesn’t break contact but she lifts her own mug out to the side as Rafael goes to pass her.

“Refill, servant boy,” she says cooly, basking in the shocked looks she receives. She grins mischievously at you as Rafael, blushing furiously, does what he‘s told. “I’m assuming he’s in trouble?”

“Big time,” you smirk back at her. Rafael looks at you with surprise.

“Really?” he says. Aurora laughs quietly over a strip of bacon.

“Yep.” Still, your expression softens as you take him in. Through all of this shit, through him pulling away and not being here like you’ve needed him to be, you’ve just wanted things to go back to the way they were. They haven’t yet by any means but for the first time in quite a long time there’s the possibility that they could.

“Well are you at least, you know...” Sienna sets a plate of freshly cooked bacon down in the center of the table before interlocking her pointer fingers. You, in turn, lock eyes with Rafael.

“If he’s lucky,” you venture.

“He’s still alive, isn’t he? I’d say that makes him pretty damn lucky!” Everyone laughs at Jackie’s joke except for you and Rafael. You flash a wry grin for yourself.

“Damn right,” you say into your pancakes. When you look up again Rafael is smiling right back at you with that soft, affectionate smile, the one that tells you that everything is going to be alright. The morning dissolves into conversation and Rafael takes your hand beneath the table when he sits beside you. It’s the way everything should be, finally.

[alleycat97]

Checkmate

Pairing: F!Kayden x MC

The Royal Masquerade (NSFW)

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Unfortunately...

...

"You've spent months changing the stars, Giovanna. Today, it's finally time to reveal the new night sky."   Kayden's words were floating in her mind as she kneeled down and accepted her crown, she was very lucky to have Kayden by her side.

"Today is a new day for Cordonia!" Giovanna spoke loudly to her anticipating crowd, "My regime will be for the people, I will bring justice to our kingdom and we will flourish once again!" The crowd erupted as Giovanna made her way to the ballroom.

She hadn't been queen for all but an hour and she was already tired of the ass kissing she was receiving. Thank goodness for Kayden's timing,

"Would you like to dance my queen?"

"My?" Giovanna cooed as she accepted Kayden's offer. "What am I to call you now?"

"Sorcerer? Killer? It's what everyone else is calling me."  Kayden shrugged.

Giovanna peered around the room watching the ugly looks Kayden was receiving. The bystanders looked away once they noticed Giovanna watching them. "Don't listen to them Kayden. You're better  than to falter to court gossip."

As the music shifts, Kayden dipped Giovanna, pulling her back into her chest. Giovanna faltering to the strong, powerful arms holding her tight but yet so gently. Kayden leaned in and whispered, “Join me tonight Giovanna, and I'll show you the value of things made hard, demanding, and fit for purpose."

Giovanna was unsure of the location of choice, the armory. But she couldn't fathom the beauty and history of the weapons before her.

After Kayden's lesson and compliments, Giovanna took a seat contemplating her future.

"As queen, you'll have to work on your ass kissing." Kayden spoke teasing her lover.

"I fear ass kissing is the least of my problems...If my enemies have their way, all the weapons in the world wont be enough to save me."

Kayden moved to stand before Giovanna, taking her chin with a grip that's gentle but firm, tipping her face to meet hers. "They wont have to be. No matter what happens, I will be there to protect you. Until my last breath."

"Does that mean you will be my Crown Shield?" Giovanna spoke, eyes sparkling.

Kayden bent down, face merely an inch from Giovanna's, "It means I will be yours..."

Giovanna's face grew with intense heat, heart pounding inside her chest. Kayden closed the remaining distance and captured Giovanna's lips, gently at first, then growing more and more intense. Giovanna latched onto Kayden and held on as she was hoisted from her seat and forcefully held against a wall.

"Sorry, I have wanted this for so long, it is nearly impssoble to hold myself back." Kayden panted.

"Then don't hold back." Giovanna challenged, earning a growl from Kayden who shoved herself harder against Giovanna.

Kayden reached around and grabbed and handful of hair and jerked Giovanna’s head back, leaning in to suck on her neck.

“Mmmmm! Kayden!” Giovanna moaned with pleasure.

“I’m going to tear you apart.” Kayden moaned between bites, making Giovanna writhe with pleasure.

“Undress me.” Kayden commanded. And Giovanna quickly obeyed, tearing the clothes from Kayden’s body before backing away to shed her dress.

She moved to take her crown off but playfully decided to leave the symbol of power in place to remind Kayden who’s the boss. A gesture that didn’t go unnoticed by Kayden, who cocked an eye brow with a small smile.

“Have it your way my queen.” She challenged.

“It is a shame I had you pardoned so quickly, I was beginning to like the sight of you in chains...” Giovanna teased.

“Well your majesty, it just so happens that I have a set of chains right here.” Kayden said holding up the cold iron.

“Oh my...why don’t you place those on me?” Giovanna asked.

Kayden shackled one wrist before easing Giovanna to the floor, resting her back down, before securing the other wrist around the desk leg.

With Kayden now straddling Giovanna’s hips, her hands started roaming the soft delicate skin of her majesty’s body, leaving a trail of kisses all over. “What does my queen desire?”

“Mmmm Kayden more...” Giovanna wiggled and moaned underneath Kayden.

Kayden’s teeth grazed Giovanna’s upper thigh earning a moan. Her hot breath just mere inches from Giovanna’s spot. Kayden nuzzled over the sensitive area lightly, Giovanna lightly twitching with the sensation.

Giovanna felt Kayden’s strong hands take hold of her hips and then the woman thrust her tongue deep within, making her pull hard against the iron restraints.

Kayden stopped and peered up from her place between Giovanna’s thighs, “More?” She asked hungrily, licking her lips.

Giovanna cried out more, hips bucking against the tight restraint from Kayden. The woman’s tongue moved in and out in a pulsing rythm. Giovanna could feel it build deep within. Slowly surfacing and when she reached her limit, she exploded into a state of pure bliss, body shaking violently as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through her body. Then she went numb and collapsed back against the floor unable to move.

Kayden undid her restraints and curled her body next to Giovanna, “Is the queen pleased?”

“Bwuuuh?” Giovanna tried “Words...hard...brain...melted.”

Kayden laughed, “I’m glad you enjoyed.”

Giovanna, looking sheepish spoke up, “That was um...my first time. With anyone, so I’m glad it was with you.”

“You know it’s been a long time since I allowed anyone to get this close to me, I want to give every piece of myself to you.” Kayden replied pulling Giovanna even closer to her, rubbing her leg as they let the time pass in blissful relaxation.

The two would soon part, rejoining the party before its end. Kayden staying from attention and Giovanna the center of it. But the two would rekindle in Giovanna’s master chambers that evening.

Giovanna lay awake while Kayden gently snoozed beside her. She was thinking of her future and the power she held and what it meant for her and the love she shared for Kayden. Her thoughts were pulled when she heard her door ease open and then watched a figure crawl on top of her quietly.

“Who’s there!?” Giovanna shouted waking Kayden.

It was Renza, “Hello Giovanna.” She spoke grasping one hand around the girls throat and pressed a dagger with the other against Giovanna’s chest.

Before Kayden could reach for her sword, she felt a dagger press against her throat. “Dont. See here? I have a charm of my own.” The assassin spoke showing off his black triangular ornate. “It stops magic before it starts. Your tricks won’t save you this time.”

“Renza? One final scheme huh?” Giovanna spat out.

“Mhm final... Yes I do like the sound of that. It’s a shame Giovanna that our little dance back and forth has to come to an end, but if you want something done right, I guess you have to do it for yourself.”

“Renza, you are heavier than you look. Oof.” Giovanna mocked one last time.

“Why you little bitch.” Renza snarled. “You ruined everything. If you had just fell in line when I poisoned you, I would be queen and you would live to see tomorrow.”

Renza looks over at your crown, “I’ve wanted that crown for years, it was finally my time to take it but you came along. I deserve it.” Renza went to each for the crown, lust filling her eyes when Giovanna shoved her away, surprising the girl.

“You deserve nothing. You were willing to sacrifice anyone who got in your way for power. And how sad. Because for all that you have lost, and all the pain you caused, you didn’t win. Not even once.”

“Winning comes now, at the end of the game. Everything else was merely a step towards the inevitable conclusion. Don’t you see Giovanna? I have always been one step ahead of you.”

Renza pulled back her arm and forcefully shoved her dagger into the chest of Giovanna, earning a shriek from the girl. “Checkmate.”

“No!” Kayden yelled as she watched Giovanna clutch her chest and shakily fall to the floor.

“Oh don’t worry, you’ll see her real soon.” Renza laughed out. “Can’t have any witnesses can we?” She teased. “Finish her.”

The assassin moved to slice Kayden’s throat but she remembered her promise to protect Giovanna until her last breath and she quickly jerked a dagger from under the cover, sticking it into the side of the assassin who collapsed to the floor in pain.

Kayden jolted from the bed, grabbing her sword, approaching a frightened Renza.

“Get up you idiot! She’s going to kill me!!” She screamed to the Assassin who regained his footing. But he was too late, Kayden slammed her sword through Renza, giving it a painful twist before pulling it out. She watched the life drain from the woman’s face and quickly turned to face the assassin.

He was no match wounded, magic or not. Kayden was a force. So he quickly averted the crown shield and limped his way to the window making his escape.

Kayden heard a weak moan and quickly rushed to Giovanna’s side. She pulled the girl onto her lap removing Giovanna’s bloody hand to assess the injury.

“Kayden?” Giovanna spoke softly.

“Yes love. I’m here.”

“I’m not gonna make it an I?”

Kayden had her doubts, the cut was deep and she had already lost a ton of blood. “Of course you are love. It was just a scratch.”

Giovanna laughed at Kayden’s comforting words before coughing violently.

“Kayden I’m cold. So cold.” She spoke shakily.

“I’m going to go get help.” Kayden rushed but was stopped when Giovanna placed her bloody hand to her cheek.

“Promise me something Kayden.”

“Anything.”

“Promise me you’ll find someone to love you unconditionally, and that you’ll open that bakery.”

Kayden was in full tears, “Please, I can’t go on without you Giovanna, I love you.”

Giovanna smiled weakly, “I...I lo...love you Kayden Vescovi.”

Giovanna began to still in Kayden’s arms, Kayden began to panic, “No, no, no, NO!”

She tried to shake the girl and keep her awake, not believing what was happening, when she had a thought. Her magic. It was a long shot, if she could stop things, maybe she could stop the one she loved from dying? It was a long shot but worth a try.

“I sure hope this works.”

[elliepassmore]

The Never Tilting World Review

4/5 stars Recommended for people who like: fantasy, multiple POVs, goddesses, magic, demons, LGBTQ+ romance, strong female leads, kick-ass women, women engineers, disability representation, mental illness representation, characters of color, complex morality I will say that for the most part I really enjoyed this book. The concept is fascinating and the characters and world were splendid. I took off a star because, as nice as it is sometimes to not have every detail of a world explained, with something like magic, it does have to be explained to a certain extent. By-and-large I understand how the 'gates' work, but we're dropped right into the terminology within the first couple of pages without explanation and it was a little confusing and took me a few tries to get at it. Then, I just wasn't a huge fan of Odessa and it does take away from the book a little when you just don't like one of the MCs or narrators, but I'll explain more about Odessa when I get to her. Lan, Tianlan, is the first narrator, so I'm starting with her. She's what's called a Catseye (also something whose we had to figure out figure out ourselves), which means she can heal people or inflict sickness upon them in a form of dual magic. Two sides to every coin, right? I really, really love this idea and think it's a fantastic spin on the typical 'healer' character you see in fantasy. I suppose, theoretically, healers could always turn their magic to use by harming people, in fantasy books healers are relegated to only healing, save for here and in Leigh Bardugo's Grisha and Six of Crows trilogy, where healing and harming are seen as two sides of the same magic, though a person typically has more strength in one than the other, so it doesn't come out quite like it does here. I enjoyed being in Lan's POV because she's caught between wanting to do the right thing by the world that's been plunged into eternal night and also wanting to keep Odessa, her lover, safe. I also thought that Chupeco writing Lan has having PTSD after a pre-book incident was refreshing considering the number of books that just skip over the psychological effects events have on characters. This was also an area where Chupeco turned the 'healer' trope on its head a little, as Catseyes can work with physical illnesses and injuries, but also mental ones, taking on the role of healer and therapist (though obviously not for themselves), so not only do we get to see Lan experiencing PTSD, but we also see her coming to terms with it and seeking therapy-like treatment for it, which is pretty unusual in most novels. Despite being in the 'healer' role and having magic that can infect and destroy if she wishes, Lan is also skilled with a blade and hand-to-hand combat and has something of a quick temper. She's definitely the 'protector' type more than anything else and is striving to make sure everyone comes out alright in the end. Odessa comes next, because I'm grouping the characters based on where they're from and Lan and Odessa are both from Aranth. Odessa is one of the daughter-goddesses in the novel who is unaware her twin is alive. She has some kind of chronic illness that prevents her from being very active without tiring out and that Catseyes have been able to treat but not cure. In the beginning Odessa seems like she'll be a pretty good character, a little too doe-eyed and teary for my tastes, but has plenty of potential. Then she starts to get bratty and doesn't seem to have the ability to logically think things through. From a writing standpoint I really appreciate how complex Chupeco makes Odessa and I think within the plot it's super fascinating. It's even explained to us toward the end why Odessa made the sudden turn from teary-but-okay-princess to brat-with-little-rationale, so I appreciate the cleverness of how the reason was woven throughout Lan and Odessa's chapters for us to find but maybe not pinpoint exactly. However, the great reasoning behind it doesn't stop me from not liking Odessa. The weird power-imbalance Odessa has going on with Lan and their relationship that I'm not a huge favor of. They love each other, great, fantastic, I believe that and I actually think they make a great couple in the beginning of the novel. They certainly have a better set-up for a romance than Arjun and Haidee do, though their 'love' is only marginally slower moving, but I'm just a teeny bit uncomfortable with the power imbalance of Odessa being a goddess/princess and Lan being the person assigned to guard and protect her. It's one thing when Lan is serving the crown in some general 'technical' sense and the two of them are in a relationship and it's another thing entirely when Lan is serving Odessa and her mother directly. It would be better, I think, if Lan wasn't serving directly under Odessa or it was like Lan's previous relationship where both girls were rangers. While Lan has no issues disregarding Odessa's commands, the imbalance is still there and becomes a bit of a problem later, but is never fully addressed, so I'm not sure how I feel about that or about some of the scenes with Lan and dark!Odessa. The relationship has the potential in the beginning and it is, for the most part good, but then once the difference in rank and power becomes clearer and Odessa becomes darker I get just a little uncomfortable with it. Haidee is the other daughter-goddess and she lives in the Golden City on the always-day side of the planet. She's what's called a 'mechanika' in the world, but what we would classify as an engineer. She's quick on her feet, fiery, stubborn, and extremely empathetic. In one of her very first scenes she's crying over a days-dead whale, if that's any indication. As much as I love her determination, smarts, and stubbornness, her ignorance of the world and optimistic attitude do grate on my nerves at times. She's just a bit too happy-go-lucky in some instances, though it largely works out for her. I will be fair, Haidee is one of my favorites, but I feel like Chupeco set things up so that Haidee would always have things work out for her and it seems a bit too obvious at times. Despite my dislike of Odessa, things go wrong for her, sometimes very wrong, and while things do occasionally go wrong for Haidee and seem like they'll be bad, I don't ever really get the full-on sense of dread like I do with Odessa. Arjun and Haidee meet by the whale and their first scene involves them trying to kill each other. Naturally, he becomes her love interest. Arjun is, hands down, the funniest person in the entire book. He has a very dry sense of humor and can be extremely sarcastic. He follows along with the idea of prophecies and with Haidee's ideas a little to mellowly for what I'd been expecting given our introduction to him, which I think says more about the whole 'everything works out for Haidee' but than about him. I also enjoy that Arjun decided to go with a prosthetic magical rifle after he lost his hand (not a spoiler, it happened pre-book). I don't know how they engineer the things they do in the desert, but I just found it amusing that instead of engineering a hand or hook or knife or something they went with a rifle that could channel his fire magic. It really fits his personality, honestly. While Arjun's and Haidee's romance is definitely more power-balanced than Lan's and Odessa's, there are still some holes in it. Mainly that they meet and fall in love within the span of the book, which I'm pretty sure takes place over, like, a month. I love fantasy and dystopian, and sci-fi, but oh my god I am getting sick of the quick romances. Chupeco did a decent job of showing why they fell in love and how they respected each other and became friends before they fell in love, but it's still only been a month. Sorry, but I know 19-year-olds, being one and being in college, and I'm just really not certain that your 'month to love' romance is gonna last. There are different depths to love and you can love more than once, but the insta-true-love, will-survive-anything has just, for some reason, been getting on my nerves lately. Maybe in a couple months or years I'll be fine with it again, but right now I'm just not a fan, even if I do like the characters together. The mythology and general world-building in the book is also something I enjoyed. Chupeco keeps the ideas of duality, sacrifice, and "a demoness is what they call a goddess that men cannot control" going throughout the book. It centers around two young goddesses whose mother(s) are goddesses and a world that somehow stopped spinning and split into only-night and only-day, so there's obviously a lot of mythology and magic going into the base of this book. Since the 'Breaking,' as they call it, neither mother-goddess has really told the twins much about previous generations of goddesses. Odessa gets more of an education about it than Haidee does, but both are still largely left in the dark about their world's mythology, which allows Chupeco to reveal it to the reader in a way that feels natural without info-dumping. There's a lot to do with goddesses, prophecies, and rituals that starts to get unpacked in this one, but which mainly sets up for the sequel. I'm super interested in learning more about the goddesses and rituals in the next book and have plenty of theories regarding them. The duality piece of things is interesting, because you don't necessarily recognize it in the beginning or even halfway through the book. It was more toward the end that I began to see what Chupeco was doing with the night-day, ill-healthy, healer-'plague-giver' sort of balance. The goddesses are twins, as all goddesses before them have been, and that set-up is a fantastic literary device for setting up dualities. You can have the good twin vs. the evil twin, the knowledgeable vs. the ignorant, and so many other varieties, and Chupeco plays with a bit of each in each twin. Odessa knows more about their past from the start, but it's Haidee who learns more about it and their world on the way. Odessa starts out as the chronically-ill sister, but Haidee ends up drained and exhausted. Odessa becomes more and more morally complex and dark but still has soft spots, Haidee is blindingly optimistic but has moments of destructive rage. They're set up to mirror and foil one another, yet each still comes together in the end and finds strength in knowing their twin. The girls are quite similar even though the book sets up a lot of their differences. Without giving too many spoilers I can say that this is 100% reflected in where the plot takes us and the things that are revealed. In terms of world-building I thought Chupeco gave us very distinct settings, creatures, and peoples. The night-side of the world is described as very rainy and cold, with threats of storms, kraken, and icebergs. Though Lan and Odessa are only in the city for a short period of time, I remember the impression I got of it. Old bookstores, tall buildings, dreary because of the rain. This is set against the next setting Lan and Odessa experience, which is the borderlands near the Abyss. While these lands are still dark, there's more foliage described as well as eerie lakes, currents made of air that are strong enough to hold ships, and creatures of darkness and shadow. It is also here where the sky begins to lighten as they move closer to the Abyss and the always-day side of the world. This is even more different from the settings Arjun and Haidee encounter. The desert is vast and deadly, full of dangerous scorpions, an acid sea, and a sea of sand complete with sand-dolphins and sand-sea creatures. The desert is full of raiders and nomadic clans instead of shadow people, but the former can be just as deadly. The Golden City is more steampunk than the night city, Aranth, is described to be. It also seems to be full of snootier people than Aranth does, and all-in-all, despite it being a city run by a twin goddess with a twin goddess daughter, Haidee's city is a very different city from the one Lan and Odessa left. Then there's Inanna's Temple and the Abyss itself, which remind me of dawn and pure darkness, respectively, but still have their own distinct feelings and descriptions. It's very easy to get immersed in the world Chupeco has created here and it's one of those rare world-building experiences that makes me wish I could see it artistically rendered. The Never Tilting World is a good book with unique, distinct characters each with their own strengths and weaknesses that are explored throughout the book. Chupeco writes the characters relatively realistically, meaning they deal with physical and mental trauma as well as tough decisions they sometimes respond to poorly. The Arjun-Haidee romance felt kind of rushed and the Lan-Odessa romance felt like it had a power-imbalance I wasn't 100% comfortable with. Since there is another book, however, and since the Lan-Odessa romance had a lot more promise in the beginning than the middle and end, I'm hoping it'll get itself sorted out. I also dinged the book's score because of terminology that we're left to figure out for ourselves that really would've been better if it had just been explained outright. Definitely think it's a good read, though and would recommend picking it up if you enjoy fantasy.

[queenbirbs]

what if the closest we get to the moment is now | Ethan Ramsey x MC

WC: 10k+

Rating: Mature

Content: N*FW, contains semi-graphic medical scene (nothing too bad, but I don’t know everyone’s level of comfort with these sorts of things)

Summary: An OH AU where everything is a little bit different, but also very much the same; or, Ethan is an ER attending and MC is a paramedic, but they still manage to fall in love.  Title taken from Katie Herzig’s Closest I Get. 

+ + +

He sees her three times before he learns her name. 

The first time is at the intersection of State and Congress, which he approaches with that tight feeling in his chest. It’s the feeling that only comes from jogging the three-mile route from his apartment, where he goes up around the government center and back down Bowdoin, before taking a lap around the Common. Then there’s the historic facade of King’s Chapel and the less-historic Chipotle on the corner, where he can choose to extend his route by taking Water Street up to Congress and circle back to his apartment. 

Which is the route Ethan takes this morning with Jenner at his side, dawn slowly approaching as the sky shifts from that deep blue to a hazy gray. 

The only light comes from the streetlamps and the headlights of the delivery vans and buses that idle at the major intersections. State and Congress being one of those -- his last one, actually, before he crosses to return home. 

The appearance of another jogger at the intersection isn’t strange. Though he purposefully goes for his runs before five a.m., he knows he isn’t the only one with the same exercise preferences (or the same work schedule). There are others he sees along his route sometimes, though he doesn’t know their names, as he’s never been inclined to strike up a conversation while waiting on a light change before. 

The woman in front of him is much the same; he spots the earbuds at the same time he hears the humming. She paces back and forth on the sidewalk, trying to keep her heart rate up. Ethan moves closer to the curb and into her peripheral, making her aware of his presence so he won’t frighten her by hovering behind. 

“Morning,” she says to him, offering a quick smile. He returns the motion, suddenly unsure of himself, as he finds that he wants to say something back. 

The light changes, cutting off any chance of a reply. 

And then they’re crossing and he’s watching the way her ponytail swings in the beam of the headlights and the white piping down her leggings that frames tall, shapely legs that end in a pair of bright orange sneakers and then, suddenly, they’re on the other side. 

Where she goes right and he goes left.

He thinks of her once more that day, hours into his shift, before deciding that he probably won’t see her again. 

+ + +

The second time he sees her is at Derry Roasters. 

It’s the local coffee shop down from the hospital that he frequents when, instead of pulling out every follicle of hair one-by-one, he goes to drink expensive lattes to escape the doe-eyed nuisances that are his interns. 

Ethan is nearing the front of the line when he spots her at the back. Instead of running gear, she’s dressed in a black T-shirt and navy cargo pants, clearly dressed down out of some uniform. Her hair is pulled back in that same ponytail; she runs her fingers through it, her wide eyes giving off an overwhelmed vibe. It’s been years since he’s actually looked at the scrawling cursive above his head, having ordered the same drink so often that the baristas automatically charge him for a Vienna as soon as he steps up to the counter. In theory, he could take his drink and get back in line, sidle up to her, and offer his suggestion. Maybe she would chat with him, maybe he would get to know her name.

Maybe he would promise to see her again to share a coffee at a later date. 

Before he can test such a theory, a young man darts into the shop and straight over to her. Ethan is trying to place where he’s seen the man before, but then the bartisa calls out his order and his pager is buzzing and he’s shoving down the disappointed feeling in his chest when he sees the young man’s head dip down to whisper in the woman’s ear.

He takes his coffee and goes, thinking of her twice more that day, and hopes that he’ll see her again.

+ + +

The third time he sees her is in the ER.

There’s a traffic jam of stretchers in the receiving bay, filled with the hypochondriacs or the psych evals or the people who called a closed doctor’s office, only to be told by the secretary’s voicemail to call 911 or visit the ER if any of their (usually minor) problems persist. Several paramedics are holding the wall, as if helping out in any way would inconvenience them. 

Ethan is helping a nurse transfer in the fourth victim of a six-car pile-up when that ponytail catches his eye. 

Down the hall, the young woman is leaned over a stretcher, one hand on an older man’s shoulder to keep pressure on a bandaged wound, while the other rests on his arm. She says something to the man, whose worried frown ticks up into a half-smile as he nods. Standing on the opposite side of the stretcher is the same young man from the coffee shop, who Ethan now recognizes as Rafael, one of their regular paramedics. 

The nurse takes over the accident patient and Ethan returns to the line, shuttling the new patients in and signing off for the intakes. It takes him six minutes to get to Rafael and his new partner, who immediately launches into her patient’s status. 

“Henry here took a fall, he’s got a five-inch gash along his clavicle.” 

Ethan takes the copy of the report she hands him and assists with transferring Henry over to a bed. His gaze flickers down to her uniform where, pinned above her heart, a nametag reads S. McTavish. Before he can think of a way to find out her first name, a code blue sounds from on down the hall.

Rafael and McTavish are long gone by the time Ethan steps back out into the receiving bay, where another nurse has joined to help the first, leaving him to resume his duties. 

It isn’t until hours later that he remembers the copy of the report he handed off to the nurses station. Rifling through the intake folder, he retrieves the document and is pleased to discover her first name at the top, written out in neat print: Sloane.   

+ + +

As if the universe has designated him a break, he starts to see her everywhere. 

Aside from the daily drop-bys in Edenbrook’s ER, he runs into her at the market one Thursday, and then the liquor store that same afternoon. Their interactions are short -- awkward in that way that barely-colleague ones are -- though he manages to make her laugh at his terrible joke in the wine aisle, so he considers the whole trip a success. He runs into her again at Carson Beach, where he runs Jenner so the Boxer-mutt mix will release some of that pent-up energy she’s infamous for. That breathless feeling hits him again when he sees her pass by on the HarborWalk, then circle back around and jog towards them across the sand, her orange sneakers kicking up little clouds behind her. 

“Doctor Ramsey, hi!” she greets, flicking back the long rope her hair is braided into. Her skin glistens with sweat from her mid-morning run. 

“Good morning, Miss McTavish,” he returns, keeping his eyes pointedly on the flush staining her cheeks and not letting it drift downwards to the shorts she wears that look as if they were sculpted on. He wouldn’t know, of course, as he certainly wasn’t checking out her backside when she jogged past earlier. 

“And who might this be?” Sloane is already kneeling, so he doesn’t get a chance to stop her before Jenner knocks her down into the sand. 

“Jenner, off!”

His dog perks her head up at the command, then resumes her wet kisses across Sloane’s neck. From underneath the mound of wet dog comes laughter, which eases some of his anxiety. 

“Oh, she’s just a big ol’ girl, aren’t cha? Aren’t cha?” Sloane shoulders Jenner off her so she can sit up, ruffling her dark fur where it’s coated in sand. Ethan tosses a frisbee down towards the water and uses the distraction to help her back onto her feet. 

“I’m sorry, she usually isn’t--” he cuts himself off with a sigh. Sloane follows his gaze and starts chuckling at his dog, who has abandoned the frisbee and is now trying to chase down a clump of seaweed in the water. “Actually, she’s a real pain in the ass. But I am sorry she knocked you over. I’m out here to tire her out so she’ll behave.”

Sloane flaps a hand at him, quieting his apology. 

“Don’t worry, my dog Relay is the same way.” 

Ethan watches his own dog give up on the seaweed and wade back onto the shore, trying to think up a response. “I’m from South Carolina,” she continues to explain. “About an hour outside of Hilton Head, so I take him to the beach as much as I can. Except for when I went to college in Columbia.”

“What did you study?”

“Pre-med. And then I went to Northwestern for med school, but that didn’t work out. So, I thought I’d try Boston out for a while, see how the north coast will treat me.” 

He wants to ask how she went from studying medicine in the Windy City to responding to heart attacks on the east coast, but can’t come up with a way to do so that would be polite.

“How are you liking Boston so far?” he asks instead.

Her gaze leaves the stretch of blue water in front of them to meet his own, her mouth rounding into a smile. Standing this close underneath the bright sun, he can see the freckles that dot her nose. They fan out in small strokes across her cheeks. 

“It’s interesting.” 

“Just ‘interesting’?” he teases, shifting his stance in the warm sand, which brings him a few inches closer. Sloane doesn’t move away, though. Instead, her shoulders roll in a lazy shrug as her smile widens. 

“Jury’s still out on a final verdict. For now, interesting.” 

“Well, if you need any recommendations, let me know. Though,” he gestures to the beach surrounding them, “I can see you already know some of the sweet spots.”     

“Thanks, Ramsey. I might just do that.”

“Of course. And it’s -- you can call me Ethan.”

“Okay, Ethan. Then you can call me Sloane. Deal?”

“Deal.”

+ + +

He doesn’t see Sloane again until the next Thursday, and even then their moments together are a few, too-brief moments in the ER. 

The Fourth of July weekend keeps both of them up to their eyeballs in emergencies. He’s starting to see why Doctor Mirani always insists on taking the next week off. Just when he thinks he’s seen it all, someone manages to stick a firework in a new orifice. 

When his shift is reaching its eleventh-hour, the receiving bay mysteriously empties, and the waiting room starts to clear out. It is, of course, when one of the interns from diagnostics uses the Q-word, which sends a shockwave of groans through all the staff. True to the nature of the universe, calls from emergency dispatch flood in about a ten-car pile-up in the tunnel. Ethan pushes off the nurses station to prepare for the oncoming storm when Kendra, his charge nurse, hangs up the phone. 

“Dispatch is sending us a few that Mass Kenmore couldn’t take.”

Ethan scoffs, biting his tongue from making a rude comment about the rival hospital. 

“What’s on the menu, then?” he asks, reaching over the desk for his coffee. 

“A tractor-trailer hit an ambulance,” Kendra relays with a frown. “They’re sending over the two medics and the driver to us.” 

The coffee in his mouth suddenly feels like lacquer, thick and cloying in his throat as he swallows. 

“Did they say what company the ambulance was with?” 

Kendra shoots him a curious look at the question, obviously wanting to know why he cares, but she’s been working alongside him almost as long as he’s been at Edenbrook. She can tell when he’s going to keep mum, especially when it comes to gossip. 

“No,” she finally says, “sorry.” 

The pile-up victims arrive first, with their herniated discs and second-degree facial avulsions and grade-three contusions -- enough to keep him busy, hopping from bed to bed to oversee the interns as they fumble about. 

Then he’s back at the nurses station to book the avulsion into the next-available OR, while also sending a queasy-looking intern to the bathroom and performing another sweep of the immediate area for any familiar paramedics, when a voice sounds over his left shoulder. 

“You’re a regular Mark Greene, huh?” 

The anxiety in his chest ebbs away. Relief rises and crests across his shoulders, which ease down when he turns to see Sloane, her hands tucked into the pockets of her EMS jacket, leaning against the counter next to him. 

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

Her mouth opens to contradict him, then abruptly closes as she runs a critical eye over his form. He resists the urge to straighten under the sudden scrutiny. 

“I pegged you as a man who prefers the classics, as opposed to HIPPA-violation hook-up primetime, but,” her shoulders bounce in a quick shrug, “we all have our guilty pleasures.” 

Ethan clears his throat. Then, for good measure, clears it again. 

“I can assure you that I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

“Oh, come on -- you can’t tell me you’ve never watched a single episode of ER or Grey’s. There’s nothing more entertaining than tearing a show like that apart.”

A nurse interrupts to get his signature on a report, giving him a chance to steer the conversation away from his watch history of medical dramas. 

“Can I ask why you’re loitering in my ER in the first place?” Following the motion of her elbow, Ethan finally notices Rafael sitting in the corner. One of his interns is suturing up a wound on her partner’s waist, while several of the other interns stand around and ogle the young man’s physical attributes. They scurry off to the far corners of the department when he reminds them that drooling is not a part of their job description. 

“Superman got a little banged up earlier,” Sloane explains, concern flitting across her face. “One of the walls buckled in when we were retrieving the other two medics from their rig. It’s like the thing was held together by spot welds and promises.”      

Although ambulance construction isn’t his expertise, he is rather gifted in the art of observation. Which is how he knows that Rafael wasn’t the only one injured on the job, if the way Sloane is favoring her right side is any indication. 

“Have you been seen to?” he asks, biting back the urge to roll his eyes when she seems surprised at the question. 

“Oh, no -- it’s just a scratch, don’t worry.” 

She wavers under his gaze, the one he uses to quietly bully patients into telling the truth. Within a minute, she’s hopping up onto an empty bed. The wince when she moves to take off her jacket tells him that his instincts were correct. Just below the cut of her sleeve is a four-inch laceration that she’s covered with two loops of gauze and a scrap of medical tape. 

He busies himself by tending to the wound, trying to ignore the heat of her body and the little hitches of her breathing when he applies the antiseptic. This close, he can smell the coffee on her breath and the minty scent of her lip balm. His mind drifts to how such a combination would taste on his own lips, before he shoves the thought deep, deep down. When he glances up, though, he sees a similar hunger dancing through her eyes. Something base and egotistical uncurls from his chest at the sight. 

“I could’ve done all this myself, you know,” she teases, watching as he fastens a piece of tape across her new bandage. 

“Yes, I saw your handiwork,” he reminds her with a playful scoff. “Is that how they’re teaching students to bandage wounds at Northwestern?” 

Sloane laughs at the gentle barb and slips back into her jacket. 

“It’s what they teach to the ones who drop out, I guess.” She’s grinning as she says it, but her gaze drops to the floor for a brief moment, the movement telling him there must be a story there. Now isn’t the time for it, though he suddenly wishes that it were, if only to spend a few more minutes with her. 

And if wishes were horses, beggars would ride, he reminds himself as he leads her out into the hall. “I’m surprised you remembered,” she says.

“Just… paying attention.” 

+ + +

Late September in Boston is his favorite. When the heat of summer has peeled away and the promise of blistering cold is still some distance away, when all of the summer tourists have flown back home and the autumn ones haven’t yet arrived. 

When the rain is more than just relief from the stagnant warmth, such as it is on this morning. The pavement is slick and dark with it, giving Ethan something to focus his attention on as he approaches the last intersection before home. Given the weather and people’s affinity to avoid it, he’s only seen a handful of runners out this morning, so he’s surprised when he spots someone already standing at the corner. Their figure is draped in a dark jacket, their hood up against the rain. It’s only because of the orange sneakers and the hound dog at their side that he knows it’s Sloane.

“Good morning.” 

She whirls around at the sound of his voice. He enjoys watching the surprise on her face shift to joy, as she moves her hood back to take him in. 

“And here I thought that Relay and I were the only ones crazy enough to be out in this mess.” Sloane gestures to the Bluetick hound at her side, who is busy sniffing Jenner’s backside. 

“No, I thought I’d start my day off by getting the both of us drenched so my apartment smells like wet dog the rest of the day.” His sarcastic remark gets a huff of laughter out of her, which makes him want to grin like an idiot. 

He doesn’t, but only just barely. 

The light changes and they jog across to the opposite corner. “Well,” he begins, trying to think of some way to continue talking to her (but without offering to follow her home, which would come across either sexist or creepy). “I hope you--”

“Do you want to get breakfast?” she asks. “I know a great place off Amherst that opens in about--” she raises her fist into the air so the jacket’s sleeve will slide back enough for her to peek at her watch, which he shouldn’t find endearing, but he does. “--ten minutes.” 

“Do they allow dogs?”

“They have a covered patio.” 

“I’m not sure if that would protect us from the rain.”

“It’ll let up.” 

Ethan glances pointedly at where the sun is struggling to break through the overcast sky. He thinks of the day ahead he’s already planned, about the laundry that needs to be done and the counters that need cleaned and the fridge that needs a purge. Then he looks back at his side where Sloane stands, who seems unable to resist ribbing him gently as she waits for an answer. “Come on, you’ll enjoy being spontaneous for once in your life. I promise.”   

Sloane is right on two counts. The first is that the place does serve great food. The second is that the rain does let up about twenty minutes after they arrive, allowing them to watch as the city around them wakes up. Lights in the law offices next door switch on; cars clog up the avenues and block the intersections; people in business attire head off to work, passing people in delivery uniforms who have already been on the clock for several hours. 

“Why did you become a paramedic?” he asks, genuinely curious to know something more personal than general shop talk or the way she takes her coffee (both topics which they covered already).  

Sloane’s eyes narrow as she chews on a piece of toast, thinking over her answer.  

“I like helping people.”

“I’m not some layman, so I’m not going to accept such a boring answer,” he tells her, and enjoys the little twitch of her lips as she gives into a grin. 

“Good, because I’m going to tell you the real reason. Or, well, the major one.” Taking a sip of her coffee, she continues, “I like the uncertainty of it. I could go on a call and help an old woman back into her bed, or I can go on a call and talk a man down from the brink, or I can go on a call and help the rescue squad cut open a burning car and pull a person from certain death.”

“You like the unknown,” he surmises. 

“Exactly!” she nods, gesturing with her fork in agreement. “I arrive to situations where everything has gone to hell, and I’m like the eye of the storm, keeping everything cool and calm and copacetic. It’s like an adrenaline rush.” 

“You would be a good ER physician.” 

She shrugs at the comment, though a flash of something passes across her face, so fleeting that he can’t put a name to it. 

“I don’t know about that -- I like being out in the field. And with my crappy luck, if I did become a doctor, I’d wind up being placed at Mass Kenmore.” She makes a face at the idea. “Then I’d have to deal with the raccoons.”

“Raccoons?” he questions. 

Her fork pauses on its way to her mouth. 

“Oh, my god!” she hisses, leaning towards him across the table. “How do you not know about the raccoons? It’s, like, an infestation over there. One of them even got into our rig once when Raf was driving and got under the pedals. We would’ve ended up on the other side of the 93-North ramp and in the river if I hadn’t pulled the e-brake.”

“In the middle of the highway?”

“There’s no shoulder on the ramp, I had no choice!” She’s giggling over the rim of her coffee cup as she defends her actions, using the cup and his silverware when he requests a recreation of the scene. 

She was right on a third count, Ethan realizes, as he watches her tale unfold, interrupting occasionally to ask for clarification. 

He is, in fact, enjoying the spontaneity of saying yes. 

+ + +

“You’re like my little Georgia peach.”

“I’m not from Georgia.”

“Oh, baby, say something else to me.” 

“Touch me again and I will strap you to this stretcher.”

“That a promise, Peach?” 

Ethan finishes checking over the fractured tibia in the fast track bay and ducks out into the hallway, having heard enough of the conversation. 

“What seems to be the problem here?” he asks. Both Sloane and a man on the stretcher next to her look up at his arrival. 

“I’m waiting on a bed to open up,” she explains, her jaw clenched tight.

“I hit my head,” the man moans pathetically, lifting a hand to touch his bandaged forehead. 

“That’s because you drank too much and ran headfirst into a parked car, Junior.”

“Oh, so you do know my name?” Junior leers up at her, abandoning his injured head to reach for Sloane again. “Say it again for me, Peachy.” 

Ethan decides it’s well past time for him to step in, doing so before Junior can get close enough to grab her. 

“Sir, I’m going to need you to keep your hands to yourself.” Ignoring the man’s drunken babbling, Ethan glances around for a resident to dump the man onto. When none appear in sight, he beckons a male nurse over to help assist with the transfer. 

“It must be my lucky day,” Junior crows as they wheel him down the hallway. “Two McDreamys all to myself.” 

Resigning himself to the harassment he’ll be dealing with for the next hour, Ethan helps the nurse get him transferred into a bed. It’s another ten minutes before he can escape to return the stretcher to Sloane, who flashes him a grateful smile. Her hand brushes against his as she takes the stretcher from him and he convinces himself that the tingling sensation across his skin must be from the carpal tunnel he’s suddenly developed. 

“Thanks again for the save, McDreamy.” With a wink, she’s off and gone, disappearing through the doors of the ambulance bay. 

Across the hall, Kendra looks up at him from the nurses station and raises an eyebrow. He orders her back to work, scoffing when all she does is smirk in response. 

+ + +

He thinks the knock at his door is something else at first. 

Four thumps against wood drift over to where he lies, slumped on the sofa. It’s his noisy neighbors, he’s sure. The music he put on returns to its full volume once the racket ceases, allowing him to sink back into himself.

The thumps sound again, somehow harsher this time. The noise gets Jenner’s attention, who trots over to the front door and sniffs. Whoever is on the other side causes her to race back over and bark excitedly at him.

“Who is it, then, Lassie?” Ethan shoves himself up out of the hole he’s burrowed into and crosses the room. 

That it’s Sloane standing on the other side of the threshold is a surprise (one of two that he’s received today, though this one is infinitely better than the other). “What are you doing here?”

“I thought you might need this.” In her hand is a bottle of liquor that, upon his closer inspection as he takes the bottle from her, is his favorite brand of scotch. “Everyone is going to send flowers, but I thought I’d bring over something you’d actually use.” 

He doesn’t ask how she found out; the staff in the emergency department were well-known for their inability to keep mum on anything. The tragic diagnosis of his mentor and best friend definitely would have been the daily fodder. “Kendra gave me your address,” she explains, having somehow read his mind. Her now-empty hands wring together, then disappear into her pockets.

Ethan backs up, swinging the door wider to wave her inside. She stops just inside the entryway and succumbs to Jenner’s demand for belly rubs. He can feel her eyes on him as he goes to the kitchen to pour them each a glass. “Are you listening to cello covers of The Smiths?” she asks.

“If I knew who they were, then yes. But no, this is just an instrumental collection I selected at random.” 

“Well, at least it isn’t Patsy Cline.”         

“Good thing that you weren’t here an hour ago, then.” 

He enjoys hearing her little huff of laughter as she comes to stand next to him in the kitchen. Handing her the other glass, they sip in companionable silence for a while. The sky outside his loft mellows to a brilliant orange, the clouds piped in pinks and purples. Sloane moves to the tall windows to take in the view; the light traces the features of her profile, outlining her in gold. It isn’t just the liquor in his stomach that suddenly warms him to the core.

“Your place is really nice.” After giving the open space an assessing spin, Sloane turns back to face him. “I’m glad to see that it actually looks lived-in.” 

She moves to the bank of bookcases along the far wall, where photographs are symmetrically-spaced across the shelves. Ethan follows to study the pictures with her. There are a few from childhood, most with his older sister Allison, the two of them shoved next to each other in front of various American landmarks, their matching shirts stamped with cheesy phrases like South Dakota ROCKS! and Yellowstone National Park: Where the Wild Things Are! 

She picks up the one of them pointing back at Mount Rushmore with bored-looking faces. Ethan remembers his mother insisting on the pose while they whined about how hot it was. Just as he remembers lying in their motel room that night, listening to his parents argue about cheating out in the parking lot. He’d been too young to understand, but being the older and wiser sibling, Allison had turned on their little box TV and let Johnny Carson drown them out. 

“When I was little, I thought the mountains were naturally formed like that,” Sloane admits with a self-deprecating grin. 

“That… explains some things.” He chuckles when she whacks him in the arm with the picture frame, before she sets it back onto the shelf and eyes another one. It’s a photo of Harper, Chris, and him at a dean’s dinner party, all of them in the fanciest attire they could swing on a medical student’s budget. They’re all wide-eyed and bushy-tailed, eager to make their mark in medicine. 

Ethan wonders what it says about him that he’s kept this photo up on his shelf, despite the fact that both of the people in it are technically his exes -- Harper being the longest and most recent, and Chris being a one-night stand that multiplied into several more before ending abruptly. He wants to believe that it shows he can remain good friends with his previous partners -- but it’s probably a testament to his lack of other friends in his life, he realizes.    

Though she’s not an Edenbrook employee, Sloane knows enough about the hospital through the gossip mill (that always seems to start in his department and then work its way through the rest of the facility) that she recognizes both faces.

“You went to school with the chief of medicine and the chief of nursing?” Her eyebrows dart up at his answering nod. “Wow, is there a fast-track placement at Columbia that I can get in on?” 

Ethan snorts over the rim of his glass. 

“Sure, if you can become one of the dean’s kids, they’ll make you chief innovation officer.” 

“I’m sensing that you’re not just making up an example here.”

“Nepotism is afoot at every hospital, but it runs rampant at Edenbrook.” 

As if shelving away the cheery turn the conversation has taken, she places the photograph back. His throat tightens at the next one down. Sloane is staring at it as well, biting at her lip, as if torn on whether or not she wants to expose the elephant in the room. “You’ve sufficiently liquored me up,” he reminds her. “Ask away.”

“That’s not why I brought--”

He waves a hand at her, cutting off her defense; he knows what she wants to know, what everyone asked him all day long at the hospital ever since the meeting this morning.  

“Ask.” 

Still, she hesitates -- but before he can demand again, she finally speaks. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Jesus, Sloane, just get to it.” 

“That was my question,” she snaps back. 

Realization washes over him. He forgets, sometimes, that she’s not one of them. She’s an outsider, looking in. She’s not interested in adding coal to the gossip mill to keep it churning; she’s not eager to know how long Naveen has or who’s going to take the now-vacant chief of emergency services position, or any of those pointless details.

She’s worried about him. It’s been so long since someone has that it takes him a moment for it to sink in.    

“Oh.” He clears his throat, then clears it again, thinking it over. Does he want to talk about his mentor and best friend and the two months he was given to live? Does he want to talk about how everyone will expect him to accept the empty seat Naveen will leave? Does he even want to give up the long, grueling hours and getting his hands dirty and the adrenaline rush of saving a patient’s life -- all so he can sit behind a desk and nod at people? “No, not really,” he admits, surprising himself with the answer. 

Sloane nods once and turns from the photo of Naveen and him, moving over to the barely-used, big-screen television. 

“Are you savvy enough to have Netflix on this, or are we gonna have to haul out the VHS player that I definitely know you have stored away somewhere?”

Brushing dust from the photograph, he prepares to respond to her smartass remark with one of his own, when she makes a weird, strangled gasping noise that has him spinning around. 

To see her holding a box set of ER season one, betrayal carved into the set of her jaw. “You have the entire series on DVD and you let me stand there that day and make a fool of myself with my excellent references?” 

“You called me a regular Mark Greene,” he defends, “and I said I had no idea what you were talking about.”

Sloane rolls her eyes as she drops down onto the couch. She reaches for one of the four remotes that seem to come with every piece of technology he buys and, without him needing to explain, turns off the music and connects to the DVD player. 

“What, I suppose you think you’re Doug Ross?” 

“Clooney’s a good looking man.” He settles down onto the couch next to her, though he gives her enough space to not make her feel crowded. “I wouldn’t be opposed to such a comparison.” 

“You realize the only way to settle this is with a marathon.”

“I’ve got nothing but time.”

It’s the quiet, he realizes, that must’ve woken him up. The television screen is dark, having shut off due to inactivity. With the only light spilling in from the kitchen, it takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness of the living room. Scattered across the coffee table is the evidence of their impromptu watch party: a half-eaten bowl of popcorn. a quarter of a pepperoni pizza, and two empty glasses. 

Curled up next to him is Jenner, who blinks awake to watch him collect the dishes as quietly as he can. Because curled up next to Jenner is Sloane, who has her face nestled between the cushion and a blanket he’d found for her when the Christmas episode, combined with his surround sound, made her cold. 

“Stay,” he whispers at Jenner. She wags her tail as he gets up, but obeys the command.

“I should go home,” comes Sloane’s voice, muffled against the cushion she was snoring on seconds prior. There’s that feeling again, like his heart is suddenly too big for his chest cavity to hold, when her body contradicts her words by snuggling even deeper into the blanket. 

“You can stay,” he murmurs, reaching out and tucking a piece of her hair back behind her ear. “I’ll wake you up early so you can get home and get ready before your shift.” 

“Gotta day off,” she tells the cushion, a yawn finishing out the slurred sentence. 

“Then we can go get breakfast at that place off Amherst again. Deal?”

The quiet of his living room stretches on as he waits for an answer. When none comes, he straightens and starts to head for the kitchen, sure that she’s fallen back asleep. 

And then, so soft that he almost misses it for running the water: “Deal.”  

+ + +

Annually, Boston EMS hosts a gala to raise funds for the upcoming fiscal year. 

As one of the leading hospitals in the city, Edenbrook always receives an invitation to attend. And thus far, as the emergency department attending, Ethan has always declined the RSVP, as he can’t imagine anything more mind-numbingly boring than being stuffed into the overcrowded ballroom of the downtown Marriott with the city’s elite. 

So, it’s no surprise that when Harper receives the invitation that she throws it into the trash without ever consulting with him. Honestly, he doesn’t blame her at all. It does make the whole situation rather awkward, though, when he asks her to dig it out of her trashcan so he can send in his response. 

It doesn’t take him long once he arrives at the function to find Sloane. 

She’s surrounded by her station, obvious even from a distance away due to the way they interact with each other. Ethan takes his time, though, circling the ballroom and letting himself be dragged into tedious conversations with the mayor and the police chief and every other person he didn’t come here to see. It had been their agreement, Harper’s and his, since she had rifled through her trash for the invitation after all. 

By the time he’s done with his due diligence, Sloane and her company have moved over to the long bank of windows that overlook the wharf. He takes a moment to appreciate her figure in the dress she wears, the cut of the neckline dipping just low enough to catch his attention. Her gaze flickers up to scan the room and Ethan gets the pleasure of watching her spot him. A brilliant smile spreads across her face as she waves him over, unlooping her arm through her co-worker’s to reach for him and drag him into their circle. 

“You didn’t tell me you were coming!” she chides, her elbow playfully nudging his side. 

“It’s not typically my kind of scene.” It’s the truth, though it’s more of a deflection from the real truth, which is that he moved his schedule around and dry-cleaned his suit just to come here and see her. He hasn’t had enough drinks to spill that secret. 

“Yeah, I have to say I’m pretty surprised to see you here, Doctor Ramsey.” Rafael gestures to the throngs of guests that surround them.

“Well,” one of the women shrugs, “I’m sure this is what the ER on New Year’s looks like.”

“The people here have more clothing on than our typical New Year’s patient, but sure.” 

The group laughs at his poor attempt at humor, while Sloane shakes her head at him, though he can see her lips twitching from holding back a grin. He is soon introduced to the rest of the station: the training EMT Sienna, the station supervisor Elijah, and two of the firefighters Bryce and Jackie. 

Though Sloane always seems to have the ability to merge into any environment, Ethan is glad he gets to see her amongst her people, still in her element despite the champagne and fancy attire. Her witty attitude and infectious demeanor are like magnets, drawing in people from other stations into their circle. 

He can’t help but notice, though, that she keeps him close to her, either with a hand on his back or by looping her arm through his. Delight at her touch simmers low in his stomach over the course of the evening, a feeling he can’t blame on the alcohol this time. 

After the live auction is over and the dessert plates have been cleared away, the guests start to slowly trickle out. Their table is one of the first to leave, deciding to continue the party at a little hole-in-the-wall bar down on the wharf. It’s how Ethan comes to be standing on a rickety pier, dressed to the nines, sipping on a draft beer at ten p.m., well past his usual bedtime. 

There’s a brush of warmth against his arm. He looks down to see Sloane leaning against the railing beside him, squinting out at the dark water. 

“Thank you for coming.”

“Of course. Anything to help our city’s finest.” 

She gives a soft snort over the rim of her drink. 

“You’re impossible.”

“You like impossible.”

“You’re right.” She’s smiling as she says it, leaning into his arm. He moves his hand from the small of her back and wraps his arm around her shoulders, bringing her into his chest. She lets out a contented sigh.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” she hums. 

“Why did you drop out of med school? From what I see on a daily basis, you’d have your pick of residencies.” 

For a long moment, there’s only the muffled pop tunes bleeding through the bar and the rhythmic churn of water against the pier and none of those things are her response. He fears that he’s finally stumbled upon the one topic that had warning signs all over it not to approach, and that he barreled right through every one of them. 

“My sister got sick,” she eventually says. “She went to the doctor on a Tuesday and she was diagnosed with stage four Hodgkin’s lymphoma by the next Wednesday. Her girlfriend split soon after and the only family we have to speak of can’t be trusted any farther than you can throw them.” She sucks in a breath, her fingers clenching around the drink she holds. “So, I moved back home and took care of her. But loan holders don’t care about why you dropped out, they want their monthly-minimum -- and with no decent-paying residency to lean on, I had to figure out something. I ended up hiring a caregiver to be with Sydney in the afternoon and evenings, so I could go work my retail job and then go to night classes to get my EMT certification. 

“I spent a year working for the local EMS and learned how to be adaptable to any situation. My partner taught me how to drive a rig at sixty miles-an-hour while taking hairpin turns on county roads. I helped deliver babies at both Texaco stations in town, fought brush fires with the volunteer fire department, waded into the river to rescue an idiot teenager who decided to try out drifting during Hurricane Matthew. I’d gone into the job to keep a foot in the door within the medical field, but suddenly…”

“...you loved it,” Ethan finishes for her. Beside him, she takes a sip of her drink and nods. 

“Exactly. Then, in the last week of January 2017, my sister died. And a week after her funeral, after all the extended family stopped coming by and pretending to care, I’m sitting in her living room on the floor, and I’m organizing her finances to start the process of selling her house. I get to this envelope that just has ‘Read this’ written across it. So, I mean, I opened it, of course -- and there’s a letter from Sydney to me that she’d written probably a month prior to her death. In it, she tells me that she’d saved up money during all those years I was away at school for us to go on a trip together. 

“But with her cancer treatment going nowhere, that was no longer an option. She wrote about how my work stories made her laugh, about how obvious it was that I loved what I did, but that I didn’t deserve to be stuck in our hometown for the rest of my life, carrying her dead weight around. Her words, mind you -- her dry humor would rival even yours. And then she went on about how she didn’t want me to be fucked over by quitting school for her, how she wanted me to continue my education, and that she wanted me to use our trip money to go back to school. So, I called up a realtor, spent three months keeping the house from looking like anyone lived in it, sold the place, and within the next week I was living in a duplex out in Lower Roxbury and enrolled in a paramedic course at Northeastern.”          

Ethan lets the story settle, lets the noises of the evening fill up what little space remains between them. 

“Thank you for telling me,” he eventually says. Pressed against his side as she is, it doesn’t take much for Sloane to dig her elbow into his ribcage. 

“Okay, I told you my story. Tit for tat, as they say.”

“No one actually says that.”

“C’mon, I know stalling when I hear it. Tell me something I don’t know.”

Wracking his brain for something to say, he spits out the first thing that comes to mind: “I wanted to be a diagnostician.” Sloane perks up at the statement, shifting to look up at him. “Before, you know, during my early days of medical school. I had it all planned out, signed up for all the seminars to attend so I could rub elbows, narrowed down my list of where I would spend my residency. All before I started my first year.” 

Dragging in a breath, he continues, “And then one day during my first year, I’m waiting for the subway, and this man falls onto the tracks. At first, no one moves. We’re all stunned into place, watching, as if we’re waiting on him to jump back up onto the platform by himself. Someone finally moves, and then a crowd runs to the edge and they’re all yelling for help and for police and for a doctor. It’s stupid, but the word ‘doctor’ finally spurred me into action. I jump down there with two other people. The man was impaled on a section of broken track, so we not only have to get him off the tracks, but I’ve also got to make sure he doesn’t bleed out in the process. There’s no time to worry over the puncture wound while we’re all in the path of a soon-to-be oncoming train, though, so we simply had to pull him off the metal. It was… intense. We carry him over to the stairs and get him laid out on the ground, where I can finally take a look at him.”

“How bad?”  

“The metal had sliced through his fourth intercostal.” Ethan brushes his fingers across the same spot on her back. “So, not only am I dealing with a chest cavity wound, but as I’m talking to the guy and trying to get information out of him, I can hear his breath getting shorter and shorter.” 

“Pneumothorax?”

“Exactly,” he nods. “And all I have on me is a backpack full of textbooks. So, I borrow this woman’s pocket knife and another woman’s bicycle pump to create a makeshift chest tube. By the time I got it up and running, the paramedics arrived and carted him off.” 

“I have a question,” Sloane interrupts. 

“Hmm?”

“You said you borrowed the bike pump… the woman really wanted it back after all that?” Ethan feels her shoulders shake with contained laughter as he scoffs at her terrible joke. “Okay, okay, sorry -- back to the story. So, is that what made you change your field?”

“It seems juvenile, looking back, for one moment like that to matter so much--”

“No, it makes complete sense!” she insists, tipping her head back and closing her eyes as she tries to think of how she wants to convey her point. “It’s like… you sit in classrooms all day and you poke at cadavers and you can name every muscle in the body, but it’s nothing compared to the real thing. You’re a conductor and the patient’s life is this symphony you get to control. That rush -- it makes you take leaps you wouldn’t normally take.”  

Her eyes open in time to spot the look of contemplation on his face. There’s something else, though, in the set of his jaw, in the ragged breath he takes in. 

“Or risks that are worth taking,” he says. His other hand drops from the railing as he turns into her, gathering her even closer. Sloane moves readily, easily into the circle of his arms. “Like this.” 

He leans down and she stretches up, meeting for a kiss that goes on and on -- until there is only the sound of the surf, steady underneath their feet. 

“Yeah,” she agrees, and Ethan can feel the words against his lips. “Exactly like that.”

+ + +

“Make it harder.”

“Hmm.”

“Levator scapulae.” 

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Trapezius… supraspinatus… rhomboid major… come on, this is Anatomy 1010 stuff.”

“I’m beginning to think that we should have agreed to ‘if Sloane complains about my seduction technique, she forfeits the competition.’”  

“If you have to say the words ‘seduction technique’ out loud, then it’s probably not working anyway.” The words are barely out of her mouth before she’s squealing with laughter as Ethan digs his fingers into her ribs, tickling her there. “Inter… intercos -- intercoastal.” 

The mattress dips as he shifts, dropping down to skim his lips across the skin covering the muscle she labeled. So far, she’s gotten all of them correct -- which means he’ll have to make this game of theirs a little more difficult. Shifting again, he centers his weight onto his left hand and distracts her with a lazy kiss against her lower back. He smirks at her bored sigh. “Latissimus dorsi.”

“Mmm, no, I want you to think… deeper.” His lips touch the spot again, his tongue dipping out to taste the skin there, warm and salty sweet. Tracing the outside of her thigh with his other hand, pleasure clutches at him when he sees the muscles in her leg twitch as his fingers stroke further inward, closer and closer. 

“Iliocostalis?” Maybe it’s his imagination, but some of the confidence has left her tone, replaced by that low, breathy voice she uses -- the one that could get him to move mountains, if only his work schedule would allow it. 

“Very good,” he murmurs, his fingers dragging two heavy passes across her inner thigh, where her abductor muscle tenses at his attention. She squirms against his bed, spreading her legs a little wider, silently urging for his touch to come a little closer. Unable to resist any longer, Ethan sinks two fingers into her. He groans as she clenches around him. Shameless little gasps fall from her mouth as he slides in a third finger, her hips gently rocking against his bed as she begs.   

His name on her lips could be an aphrodisiac, could be sought after like the maca root, could convince men and women alike to traverse 3,000 feet into the mountains to seek out. It’s his luck, then, that she’s chosen to let him have the taste of her. 

He curls down over her to nip at the skin of her waist. 

“Longissi -- no, fuck -- serratus posterior inferi--”

All at once, Ethan pulls away. Self-satisfaction floods through him as Sloane groans in frustration, rolling underneath him so that she can glare directly at him.

“You know the rules,” he tells her with an easy shrug, as if he’s done with their game (as if he isn’t hard as a rock, staring down at her, pissed-off and naked in his sheets). He’s expecting her to do quite a number of things, all towards the goal of getting her way. What he isn’t expecting is for her to wrap her legs around his waist and use all of that hidden strength she possesses to tug him down on top of her, where she proceeds to kiss along his jaw and nip at his shoulder. “What are you doing?”

“You tried your seduction technique,” she says. “Now I’m trying out mine.”

He feels every inch of her smile as she drags a hand across his chest, down over his hip, and around the base of his cock. Arousal is a hot poker to his sternum, drowning everything else out. His awareness tunnels until it’s only her (and her touch and her breath on his skin as she chuckles and the slick slide of her thighs against his hips and it’s all too much and not enough at the same time).  

“I think it’s working,” he chokes out, talking about too many other things that he can’t put names on yet. 

“Hmm… you know what?” she grins, beating him to the answer. “I think so, too.”

+ + +

It all starts when the waiting area empties out. A rare sight on a rainy Friday afternoon, when car accidents and ankle sprains typically fill the lobby to the brim. Such a rarity, indeed, that the interns collect at the double doors to take in the scene. 

Ethan clears his throat, enjoying the way they all spin around in a panic at the noise. 

“What’s say you all find something more productive to do with your time than stare out at the parking lot -- unless you’ve decided to abandon your medical careers and become meteorologists?”

Marisa, one of the more vocal interns, grabs a handful of her breast and tilts her head.

“There’s a thirty percent chance that it’s already raining.”

Some of the group laughs, while others glare. Ethan doesn’t bother asking about the pop culture reference and shoos them all away with threats of inventorying the supply closets if they don’t find patients to care for. 

Sidling up next to him, the pediatric specialist stares out at the rainy day. Tucked into her elbow is the clipboard she’s never seen without. The interns all think it’s full of patient charts and motivational quotes. Ethan wonders what they would think of Ines Delarosa if they ever found out that hidden between the hand-outs on SIDS and the importance of handwashing is the newspaper’s sports section. Because, aside from being the state’s leading pediatric emergency physician, Ines is also a die-hard Bruins fan -- she’s even got the season glass seats to prove it (and a ridiculous amount of memorabilia, which he only knows about because he graciously attends her Halloween party every year). 

“It is odd to see it so s-word,” she says, dodging the wrath of the ER gods by avoiding the word.

“If it keeps up, maybe you can get off early and snag a good seat at the game.”  

Ines chuckles and shrugs her shoulders. 

“A girl can dream.”  

He turns from the doors to see that the interns are following his commands when Ines makes a concerned noise. Glancing back out the window, he spots the flashing lights of two cop cars as they streak down the street, followed quickly by a third and a fourth. After the eleventh he quits counting. “There’s a whole squadron heading east,” Ines calls out to the room. “Anybody know anything?”

“I’ll check Twitter,” Kendra suggests, her fingers flying across the keyboard. Both doctors watch as the screen loads, reflected in her horn-rimmed glasses. Ethan’s stomach tightens as her dark eyes go wide behind the lenses. “Oh, shit.”

It takes seven minutes for the first victim to arrive. From then on, the ambulance bay resembles a floodgate, filling up with concussions and internal bleeding and broken bones. It’s an all-hands-on-deck situation, with staff from every other department coming to assist. Even Chris and Harper come down to help -- and it’s almost like med school all over again with the three of them working together, side-by-side. Any awkward relations between them are buried deep in the wave of such a disaster. 

Ethan spends the two minutes he can spare explaining the card system to the interns before handing each of them a stack. As he races from one bed to another to oversee the critical cases and get them transferred into the next available OR, he notes the lack of black cards. He can’t help but hope that it’s a good sign, and that the accident wasn’t as catastrophic as it could have been. 

But with each new patient’s stuttering recount of the disaster, he finds that hope slowly dwindling. A partial tunnel collapse, they say, repeating what the news anchors have been relaying on the screens in the break room, where they’ve set up a makeshift triage for the less critical. One patient tells him about the crunching noise of the impact, while another one cries over the terrified screams of those trapped in between the layers of rubble. 

It isn’t until the third hour (or fifth or sixth, he isn’t sure; time is a construct that he only becomes aware of when he has to call a time of death) that he finally gets an opportunity to talk to Sloane. He’s caught glimpses of her before now, rushing in and out of the double doors. This close, he can see the dust and grime that coats her jacket, the reflective strips splattered with black sludge. Streaks of the substance are smeared through her hair and down onto her neck. 

“Hey,” he reaches out, cupping her cheek in his hand and drawing her eyes up from the transfer report she’s scribbling on at the nurses station. “How are you holding up?”     

She bites at her chapped bottom lip, dragging in a breath as she thinks over a response. 

“It’s… bad,” she tells him. “Out there.” 

“It’s amazing, though,” one of the interns pipes up from where they’re hovering nearby, “that so few people have such serious injuries.” 

Sloane meets the remark with silence and Ethan knows there must be countless victims that she had to overlook in order to get to those that would have a chance of survival. Placing her hand over his, she turns her head and presses a quick kiss to his palm. 

“I’ve gotta get back out there.” She gives his hand a squeeze before she pulls away, back into the rush of bodies and out the door. Sloane McTavish, once more unto the breach, he thinks as he watches her disappear.     

By the mid-afternoon, the ER’s lobby is no longer just a home for the injured. Loved ones come in droves, in fast-moving packs across the parking lot and through the entrance to clog up the reception desk. They demand to know if their brother or partner or best friend are safe within the hospital, their panic bouncing between one another and magnifying when the staff can’t give them the answers they need. 

From inside the curtained-off cubicle where he’s working on a patient, Ethan can hear Harper giving a speech to the crowd. It’s sympathetic, but not coddling; assertive, but not aggressive. Her ability to sway a large group of panicked patients into understanding the reality of the hospital’s situation within two minutes is why she excels at being the chief (and why Ethan would never be able to do what she does -- he would’ve been mauled the minute he opened his mouth). 

“You need any help?” 

His head snaps up to see Sloane hovering at the gap in the curtain. Maybe it’s the fluorescent lighting, but she looks paler than last he saw her. Her knuckles are white where she grips the curtain’s edge, he also notes. “Raf is restocking our rig,” she continues. “He said for me to take a quick five and grab something to drink.” 

“Take five means to sit down and get some rest,” Ethan points out. 

“If I sit down, I’m gonna fall asleep.” She takes a long drink from the styrofoam cup in her other hand and grimaces. He can’t help but worry about how much coffee she’s ingested -- enough that there are fine tremors in her hands, her body running on caffeine and cortisol. 

Finishing off the suture, he calls for a nurse to start the discharge process and guides Sloane over to an empty seating area. 

“Sit down, honey. I’m going to get you something to--” 

Her muffled cry of pain cuts him off. Ethan drops down onto one knee in front of her and cups her chin, forcing her glassy eyes to meet his. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong? What hurts?”

“Nothing.” She shakes her head. “I’m fine, I--”

“Don’t give me that bullshit. What hurts?” He reaches for the zipper on her jacket when she snags his wrist and pushes him away. 

“I told you: I’m fine. It’s just a scratch.” 

He frowns at her hurried assurances. 

“Forgive me, but I’ve heard that one before. I didn’t buy it then, either. Let me at least check you out.” His authoritative tone seems to sway her. She drops his wrist and inches forward in the chair; her pained wince as she does so worries him further. He’s got her zipper halfway down when a voice calls out from behind them. 

“Slo, you ready to roll?” 

Before he can stop her, she’s yanking her zipper back up and shoving past him to join her partner. 

“Yeah, I’m all set.” 

Ethan gets to his feet and prepares to coax her into getting checked out when Rafael glances between the two of them and smirks.   

“Aren’t there supply closets for this kind of thing? If you need to get a leg over, partner, I can go grab a snack real qui--”

Sloane knocks her fist into Rafael’s arm, ignoring his fake cry of alarm as she turns and heads for the double doors. 

“She’s injured,” Ethan tells him. “Keep an eye on her.” 

Rafael quickly sobers, his grin falling away. He nods once before jogging back down the hallway and through the exit.     

The rescue squad has reached the third section of the tunnel, Kendra tells him at some point in the early evening (or he thinks, at least; he hasn’t had the time to look out a window and actually take in the position of the sun in several hours). The opening brings a new flood of victims, their injuries more critical, given their extended time underground without aid. 

Most of his interns are holding up surprisingly well, given the sheer influx of patients and the higher amount of critical codes. Ethan’s found only a handful of them having a pity party in the on-call room. His brain is too fogged to stumble his way through an original speech, so the one he gives is ripped straight from Doctor Greene. None of them seem to notice, though, solidifying Sloane’s claim that his interns are all fans of Hugh Laurie’s medical drama instead. 

His thoughts turn once more to his girlfriend as he leaves an intern to wipe away their tears and moves back out into the hallway. The few times he’s seen her he’s been too busy with a patient to get close enough to check on her. Reaching into his pocket for his phone, he’s about to resort to texting Rafael again to get a status when he spots her across the room. 

She’s standing at the nurses station and staring down at a report. The pen in her hand moves back and forth in short strokes across the page, too sloppy to be anything legible. Even from where he stands, he can see the choppy rise and fall of her chest. Hurrying past a cluster of waiting gurneys, he pushes his way through the hallway traffic to reach her side. He calls her name as he rounds the counter. The lack of reaction in her drives that stake of worry down farther into his chest. Gripping her shoulder, he gives her a little shake. 

“Sloane, hey, look at me,” he urges. 

His breath catches in his throat when she complies; her pale face is clammy, her lips tinged blue. Blinking heavily up at him in confusion, she tries to take a step back. His instinct already has him shouting for a bed. He’s moving even before she can collapse, catching her before she hits the floor. He loops an arm under her knees and another around her back, fighting back the wave of panic when her head lolls to the side. 

Kendra rushes over with a bed; they wheel her into the closest open room, a team of nurses racing in behind them. 

“’m fine,” Sloane mutters as Ethan jerks her zipper down. “Jus need a new… bandage--”

“Fuck,” Kendra swears. 

Looking down at the bloodied mess of her shirt, Ethan can’t help but agree with the sentiment. He tugs the fabric up to expose a blood-soaked bandage, secured only by a few strips of medical tape. Peeling back the bandage, he sucks in a breath through his teeth at the jagged laceration across her lower abdomen. The one she clearly tried to pack with gauze and walk off. 

“Jus patch me up an--”

“Goddammit, lay back down!” he orders as Sloane tries to sit up. “You’re not fit to do anything but try to save your own life for once. You’re in hypovolemic shock.”    

“If I was, be dead already,” she argues, her words slurring together. 

Kendra produces a pair of scissors and they cut off her uniform as Ethan orders for a blood transfusion, as well as a CT scan to rule out internal bleeding. 

“BPs at eighty-nine, heart rate is 126,” Kendra reads out. “She’s in tachycardia.” 

Fury at her disregard for her own safety roils in Ethan’s gut, compounding on the anger he already feels towards himself for letting her go earlier. Layered beneath everything is fear, thick and cold and viscous as it eats away at him. 

He spends the next hour going through the motions of testing and eliminating any possibilities of further injuries. Once they get her downgraded from stage three and stabilized, Ethan allows her to give in to sleep and steps out to check on the rest of his department. Finding everyone at their posts (and no one sobbing in the on-call room), he returns to Sloane’s room. 

Where he’s surprised to find her awake, albeit groggy. 

“Hey,” she greets, her voice almost lost underneath the steady beeps of the monitor. 

Ethan steps further into the room and shuts the door behind him, snuffing out the hospital’s incessant noise. Settling down into the chair by her bed, he reaches out to take her offered hand and brings it to his lips. 

“I need you to explain to me what the hell you were thinking.” 

She sucks in a breath, holding it for a long moment before letting it out. He raises his head, clutching her hand to his cheek as he watches her mull over her answer. 

“I was in the first section of the tunnel,” she begins. “The one we’d already cleared. I was on my way to help Raf board someone when I heard this noise. Like an animal wailing, you know, really high-pitched and drawn out. It’s closer to me than him, so I get down on my hands and knees and I’m crawling through the wreckage and I’m calling out and I can -- I can tell it’s a kid because he starts to talk, and he’s asking for his mom, and finally I spot him and he’s… he’s just a little tiny thing.” 

She pauses to catch her breath. Ethan turns his head and presses a long kiss against her knuckles. “He’s pinned underneath his mom, who we… had to move past earlier... and he’s tucked up underneath a seat. I don’t know how we missed him before, but I know I’ve got to get him out of there; he’s soaked in blood and I can’t tell if it’s his own or his mom’s, and there’s no time to try to figure it out. I finally get him out and he’s got a gash above his ear -- deep enough that I know I’ve got to hurry. And… that was it. I was going too fast, wasn’t watching all of my steps, and I’ve got him in my arms when I feel myself start to slip, but I’ve got him so I can’t stop myself, so I tucked him close to my hip and rolled into the fall and... landed onto a broken railing.” 

“That you slapped a bandage over and ignored,” Ethan finishes for her. “Without letting anyone know and refusing to let me check--”

Sloane shakes her head; tears track down over her pale cheeks. 

“You don’t -- Ethan, there were so many people down there, trapped and screaming and… and we were hauling out buckets of debris to get to them and sometimes, by the time we got to them, they wouldn’t be screaming anymore and I knew I couldn’t stop and sit that out, I couldn’t--”

“You’re lucky you only needed stitches and a blood transfusion. If you had gone on any longer, you would have progressed to stage four hypovolemic shock. You could have fallen into a coma from blood loss,” he hisses out, the anger from earlier returning with a vengeance. “Only a rookie would pull a stunt like this.”        

She meets his narrowed gaze and it’s like she can see past his front, past the frustration; without moving, without speaking, she peels back those jagged layers to see the worry and guilt that festers below. 

“This is what we do,” she murmurs. “Sometimes we forgo our own safety for the sake of others.” Tugging on his hand, she urges him to sit beside her on the bed where she can run a comforting hand through his hair and down his arm, reassuring him of her presence. 

“I know,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss her forehead, then the bridge of her nose, and then her lips. All of the pressure in his head evaporates at her touch, at reassuring himself that she’s okay. “But next time, let me do it. I am closer to the ER, after all.” 

Sloane lets out an exasperated chuckle, rolling her eyes at his lame joke. 

“You’re lucky I love you.”

“I know,” he says, that soft smile of his making an appearance -- the one only she gets to see. “Get some sleep. I’ll be right outside if you need anything.” 

Standing up, he reaches above her head and switches off the strip light. The room dims, lit only by the muted hallway lights that leak through the blinds. Leaning down, he gives her a longer, sweeter kiss, trying to pour all of his relief into it. “I love you, too,” he tells her as he tucks the blanket in around her.

“Wake me when your shift ends.”

“Okay.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

+ + +

He approaches the light with that tight feeling in his chest; his body’s assurance of a job well-done. Covered in a fine sheen of sweat from the summer heat, he yanks at the collar of his T-shirt and wafts it against his chest, groaning at the feel of air moving against his skin. 

“Are you prepping for the marathon?” he asks between ragged breaths. “Is that why you were going so fast?” 

“Wasn’t going any faster than usual,” Sloane replies with a shrug. Leaving her side, Relay trots over to sniff at Jenner and then at him, nudging his pocket with interest, where the tennis ball they toss around in the Common hides. 

“Well, either you’re lying, or I’m starting to show my old age.” 

“You’re not old,” she scoffs. “You’re thirty-eight.” Turning towards her, Ethan recognizes the look on her face; he immediately becomes invested in whatever she’s about to say next. “Here, I’ve got an idea: I’ll race you. If you beat me, then you’ll get a treat.” 

Both dogs and he perk up at the term. “Deal?”

“Deal.”

The light changes. 

They take off, jogging across the intersection and up onto the opposite sidewalk. 

Where they both turn left for home.

+ + +

AN: I did some routine googling for the medical information in this, but not nearly enough as I probably should have. Take it with a grain of salt. *Fixed as of 6/2/21: changed Sloane’s dog name from Haint to Relay. Haint is a term for ghosts or evil spirits, which I learned originated from Gullah culture in GA and SC, so I feel it was appropriation for me to use it with an MC who is white / is not part of that culture.  This fic also contains a real-life AU in the fact that Boston EMS does not work on the same structure as Chicago or NYC, where some ambulances reside within certain quarters at a dedicated fire station -- however, in this they do because everything’s made up and the points don’t matter. 

[walkerismychoice]

When You Look Like That (Colt X MC)

Book: Rod

Pairing: Colt X MC

Rating: 18+/NSFW

Note: This  is a request from @emichelle  for 3, 13 & 40 from Smut Prompts list for Colt X MC. Prompts are bolded in the text. By nature of the prompts, this is pretty much just smutty smut, lol. I thought about using a different MC for Colt, but I’m too attached to him and Gabi together, so I suppose I just have two alternate universes and she chooses Colt in one.

Tag List: (I’m using my general ROD list, so please feel free to ignore if not a colt fan) @choicesarehard @tmarie82 @debramcg1106 @lizeboredom @a-whore-of-rome @brightpinkpeppercorn @lovehugsandcandy @client-327 @going-down-downtown @rhymesmenagerie @confessionsofabrokegirl @alegria1580 @choiceslife @teenytinymagician @plutostudie-s @ifyouseekheart @give-me-ernest-sinclaire @leelee10898 @blackcatkita @choicelogansbitch @drakesensworld @frugalchoicer @fluffy-marshmallow-heart @mfackenthal @powdesiree0816 @god-save-the-keen @zaffrenotes @bizzyschoices

Word Count: 946

Colt looks up from his phone as Gabi comes out of the bedroom and then does a double take. “You’re not going out in that outfit,” he asserts, his eyes narrowing but face otherwise expressionless as he scans her from head to toe.

Gabi huffs and rolls her eyes. “I’ll wear whatever I want to, thank you very much. You never seemed to have a problem with these type of clothes before we were dating, but now you’re going to tell me what to wear?” Sure its still not the type of apparel she’s comfortable wearing on a daily basis, but for going out to a club, her tight, black leather mini skirt and low-cut, sheer top highlighting her lace bralette underneath are perfectly appropriate.

“I don’t think you understand what I’m saying, Gabi.” Colt stands up from the couch and steps towards her. 

“Colt...” Gabi puts her hands on her hips. “Everyone else is going to be dressed like this. I’m not going to dress like a nun.”

“I really don’t care what everyone else will be wearing. It’s what your are wearing that is the issue. You look hot and I’m trying not to fuck you senseless right now.”

For the first time Gabi recognizes that the dark, intense look in his eyes she had mistakenly assumed was anger. and it’s like a switched is flipped in her. “You really think so?” She grins cheekily as spins around, wiggling her ass at him along the way. 

“That’s it. You’re in trouble now.” Colt surges forward and scoops Gabi up by her thighs, carrying her to the bedroom and tossing her back on the bed. He shrugs off his leather jacket and swiftly disrobes the rest of the way before joining Gabi on the bed. “See what you do to me?” He looks down at his erection and then back up at her. 

“Guess I’ll have to take care of that.” Gabi reaches for him but Colt grabs her wrist to stop her. 

“You first.” He bunches her skirt up over her hips and deftly slides her panties off before flipping her on top of him. “I want you to ride my face.” A thrill runs through her, and Gabi feels the wetness pooling between her thighs. She centers herself over him, and as she lowers herself down, Colt unhurriedly laps at her entrance. “Mmm. You taste like fucking candy.”

Gabi sinks down further against Colt’s mouth and moans loudly as Colt sucks on her sensitive nub, encouraging Colt further. He works his mouth expertly as she writhes atop him, and the contrast of his smooth tongue and course stubble feels incredible on her delicate skin. Colt slips his hands under her shirt and finds her stiff buds through the thin lace fabric of her bra and tugs them just hard enough. Jolts of pleasure shoot straight to her core, and she cries out.

Colt moans in response, the vibrations pushing her closer to the edge. She rocks her hips, grinding against his mouth and tongue as he caresses her breasts and suddenly she's seeing stars, her whole body trembling as a fiery explosion radiates outward from her core, moans and whimpers continuing all the while.

Her legs still shaky, she climbs down lower and grips the base of Colt's cock, swirling her tongue around the head, and it twitches in response. A salty bead of pre-cum drips out and she licks it clean before taking as much of him as she can deep into her throat. She bobs up and down his hard length, working her hand in rhythm with her mouth.

"Fuck, Gabi," Colt breathes and tries to tug her up towards his face. "Come here. I want to cum inside you." Gabi obeys, sliding up next to Colt, and he kisses her hungrily. In one smooth motion he flips her over onto her hands and knees. He smooths a hand over the curves of her ass and then smacks it playfully yet a bit hard, Gabi gasping in surprise. It stings slightly, but she likes the way it makes her feel and she shudders in response. "You're so fucking sexy Gabi."

Colt wastes no more time, aligning himself with her entrance and pushing in slowly as her walls stretch to accommodate him. He sweeps her hair to the side a places kisses to her neck, shoulder, and down her spine, his lips leaving goosebumps in their wake. Gabi shifts her hips, pushing back against him and begging for more. Colt grabs a hold of both her her sides, thrusting in hard and deep. “Oh, Colt...”

Colt leans down and whispering in her ear. “Yes, Gabi. I want to hear you scream my name.” He leans back upright, wrapping one arm around her to work his fingers over her clit as he continues a with a frenzied pace. Her breathy moans increasing to let him know that she’s close. “Come for me, Gabi.”

“Fuck, Colt, Yes!” She screams as she lets go, as if her body followed his command, and an even more intense orgasm overtakes her. Colt brings his hand back around and tightens his grip on both hips. He grunts and groans as he falls over the edge, spilling his seed inside her.

They collapse on the bed and Colt holds Gabi close to him. “I love you, Gabi.”

“I love you too.” She presses a soft kiss to his lips. “But we’re way late now. We should get going.” She looks down at her rumpled sweaty clothing. “I suppose I need to clean up and change first though.”

Colt smirks. “Told you that you weren’t going out in that outfit.”

[boldlygowriting]

The 5 Man Band vs. the 5+ Man Band

I was inspired by this video by Overly Sarcastic Productions. They do an excellent job of explaining what a 5 Man Band is and its origin. If you want any extra information about tropes, you should check out their Trope Talk series on YouTube. 

Anyway, let’s get into this!

Essentially, the video describes the 5 Man Band as a cohesive group of five characters with each character falling under one of the following categories: 

Leader

Lancer: the second in command 

Heart: the soft, emotional center of the group 

Brain

Tank: the muscle of the group or expert fighter, has some powerful influence of some kind.

Although almost any of these can be switched out for comedic relief. 

AND sometimes roles can be added and switched out for what you want. For example, in a non-action setting. 

A brain 

A beauty

A jock 

A rebel 

A recluse. 

Some examples of the 5 Man Band you might be familiar with are: the Teen Titans, the Voltron team, Scooby-Doo, and Power Rangers (not including the Black or Green Ranger depending on which iteration you’re looking at), and the Breakfast Club.  

As a writer who’s currently putting together their own group of characters for a sci-fi superhero story, it seemed like a 5 Man Band was perfect for building a team. It offers a pretty simple template for making a balanced team, building your characters’ traits, and abilities or skills. But I knew from the beginning, I wanted 6 characters for my team, not 5, which led me to a new question:

What’s the difference between a 5 Man Band and a 6 or 7 Man Band? And, is one better than the other? 

I found out...well...technically, the 5 Man Band is better...but don’t click off yet! I’m not deleting one of my characters, I’m not discouraged and you shouldn’t be either. 

The reason why 5 Man Bands are technically better, is because everyone has a distinct role and some people can hold two. If you’re familiar with any of the 5 man band I listed above, you can clearly distinguish the role of each character and if not, they might be holding two: For example, look at the 2002 Scooby-Doo movie. 

Fred is clearly the leader, Velma is the brain (but I also put her in the lancer position), Scooby is the heart, Daphne is a tank (go Sarah Michelle Gellar), and Shaggy is comedic relief. You can play around with the 5 Man Band and how you can decide if you’d like to or need to add an additional character.  

You can swap out downplay these traits as needed as well, like how Velma is known for being smart, but she’s clearly the one who helps out the most when solving the mystery between her brainstorming with Fred and deciphering the pyramid, she’s clearly second in command. Also, Lancers are known for being the one that eventually forges out on their own, and Velma was the first split at the beginning of the movie. 

That’s what makes the 5 Man Band great in comparison to 6 man band, characters can do “double duty” and end up more layered and helpful because of it. 

 In a 5 Man Band, everyone has a distinct role which can help you build their personality and if you want to give them more oomph, you have room to. I’ve found once you exceed 5 the importance of each member gets a little muddled. 

Two mainstream superhero groups started off as 6 man bands: The original Avengers (2012--not in the comic books, that’s a whole other story) consisted of 6 characters, and the live-action Justice League (2017) also had 6 members. 

Although, not a superhero group, the flock from one of my favorite book series, Maximum Ride, consisted of 6 characters. 

Looking at the Justice League, almost everyone is doing double-roles and I suspect, besides the writing that’s part of the reason why I didn’t really see them as a team. Aside from the fact that I thought it was an okay movie at best. 

Batman and Superman can both serve as leaders. Although, after they revive Superman, it’s clear he’s moved to Lancer status. But you never get the sense of knowing who exactly is in charge. 

Aquaman, Wonder Woman and Superman all fit the definition of the tank and although Wonder Woman could be considered the heart, she’s not really portrayed with those traits in this film as much as she is in her solo film. The Flash is clearly comedic relief. No one, in particular, is considered the brain despite Bruce Wayne’s intellect and Barry being a genius, unless you count Cyborg, who I would only place into this role because he has expert knowledge of the Motherbox. 

Otherwise, he’s pretty unimportant. 

The problem is that some characters are pulling more weight than others making the team unbalanced, less interesting and less fleshed out. I didn’t really care about any of them. 

Of course, you could totally argue that Superman, Batman and Wonder Woman have their own stand-alone films, so of course, they do more, but just because some characters are more popular doesn’t mean they should make the other characters you added less interesting or less developed. What’s the point of adding underdeveloped and less interesting characters? 

A poorly written group can be top-heavy and leave some of its characters in the dust (eg. Cyborg). 

Does that mean that all 6+ man bands are going to be horrible and you’ll only care about half the characters? NO, definitely not. You can have the same problem with a 5 man band if you’re not paying attention, it’s just more likely in a 6+ character group. 

My MC, Hal, is the Leader.  His cousin Xavier is the Lancer, who also doubles as primary comedic relief. Evelyn is their Heart. Reyka is the Tank. Aren is the brain. And Jack is something I call ‘the dissenter; someone who is not a natural team player, but has a common goal with the main group and may act as their foil.

On top of their given roles in the team, I know that each has fleshed out backstories, hopes, wants, dreams, etc, that are as equally known as Hal’s. Everyone is treating each character like a person and not a trait, role, or plot point. 

 In 6+ man bands, it can get overwhelming to flesh out each character which is how you end up with top-heavy teams and forgettable characters. But it doesn’t take much to write a few scenes to flesh them out, especially on a team, because they’re teammates for Pete’s sake! Have them learn about each other, do some team building, something! 

Now that that’s covered that explained with 5 Man Bands are technically better, here’s where they’re technically not. A poorly made 5 man band reduces them to their roles. The brain is just the brain and only really talks about their area of expertise. The Leader is the perfect hero with blonde hair and blue eyes and is never wrong. The comedic relief only spits one-liners. Etc. No one wants to read or watch a one-dimensional character. In that case, do the same thing you’d do with empty characters, fill them up with personality. Start giving them some good traits and bad traits outside of their role, hell, maybe even some traits that contradict their given role. 

They both have the pitfall of empty, boring characters. The goal is to not have that. Most important, in a group of any size, make characters that play a specific role in the group not just in completing the mission (or whatever your end is).  

I’ll be using Teen Titans as an example. Robin and Raven have trouble letting go of things and having fun, Cyborg and Beast Boy obviously don’t and can get each of them to lighten up when they need to—or in Raven’s case express some emotions. If anyone needs a hug or a fun day, Starfire is there for support. Raven has a sobering attitude which is good for when any one of the team members needs to look at something seriously. Robin also offers this, but as a leader, it’s more centering, where Raven’s can be a bit depressing. They work, not just as a superhero team, but as a group of friends. 

The point of any group is to have characters that operate best as a unit and complement each other while having each having a distinct personality. They’re individuals that also fit well together in a team and, hopefully, as friends. 

If you want, let me know what your favorite Man Band is and what it’s from! 

[santoteez]

In The Bronx - Hongjoong (4)

Part: 4 of (?)

Part 5 HERE!

Genre: Drugdealer!Hongjoong, Drugdealer! SeonghwaAU, Eventual Angst, Eventual Smut, Eventual Fluff

Word Count: 2.6k

Requested: no

Warnings: MC is a black female, mentions of drugs, mentions of child neglect & abandonment, swearing, Hongjoong’s brother is inspired by Mingi

NOTE: This fic does NOT, in any way, shape, or form, portray the way I view any member of Ateez nor does it depict their true personalities or actions. This AU is just that. An AU.

The ride back to The Bronx was eerily silent. After parking outside the building, Seonghwa helped Minjoon out of the car and inside the house while Santana carried the food inside. They didn’t risk not buying it, knowing Minjoon will always remember food no matter the circumstances. That, and Popeyes was his favorite and considering what has just gone down, he’s gonna need at least one good thing.

“The fuck does this kid eat? He’s built like a brick wall.” Seonghwa said, a loud crack coming from his back as he stretched.

“He’s not the star quarterback for nothing,” Santana said, eating a biscuit.

“You eating that with no drink?” Seonghwa asked, grabbing a carton of Minute Maid from the fridge. “You might as well choke yourself to death.”

“It’s not THAT dry.” Santana rolled her eyes.

“And I’m not THAT rude. Let’s all be liars for the night.”

“You really think he’s gonna confess?” Santana asked, staring off into space.

“Seonghwa sighed. “I hope he doesn’t but knowing HJ, he thinks we’re all better without him. He always spoke about turning himself in if some shit went down, but I always brushed him off. I let my guard down; didn’t think anything would happen. We were always so careful. You know, there was a time I almost stopped hustlin’.” He poured juice into a glass and handed it to Santana.

“Word?” She asked. “I ain’t know that.”

He nodded. “Around my 20th birthday. I had finally made enough money to put myself through school. Since I was a kid, I wanted to be a chef. Like Bobby Flay or some shit. This shit was only meant to be temporary. After all, when they ask you your occupation, ain’t no box to check off for ‘drug dealer.’ I was ready, I had spoken to Snake and everything.”

“So if you were so ready to leave, what happened?”

“On what was supposed to be my last day, Snake retired. Left the whole place to HJ.” He filled a glass for himself, putting the carton back. “HJ ain’t know shit. I was planning on telling him after my last drop. It’s not like I was going anywhere. I’d still fuck with him outside the trapping shit. His first order in power? Making me second in command. It was then I realized just how close we were. He had just inherited an EMPIRE, and his first thought was to bring me up with him. Snake gave me a knowing look when I made a complete 180, assuming the position. It was like he knew. That HJ would choose me, that I’d say yes. He always called us the dynamic duo. In the past two years, I’ve come to believe it. Now you see why I can’t just let him rot. I gotta go get my brother.”

“Please tell me you didn’t drink all the cherry limeade.” Santana and Seonghwa turned to see Minjoon standing in the doorway.

“Hey, sleeping beauty. Come eat some of this chicken you made me buy.” Seonghwa said, waving him over.

Minjoon grabbed some chicken, and the room was silent for a while.

“You didn’t tell me where Hongjoong is.” Minjoon broke the silence.

“Maybe we should wait till morning, Youngblood.” Seonghwa said.

“Nah, I don’t think we should,” Minjoon shook his head. “I’m tired of being kept in the dark. Being told I’m too young. Somebody better start talking.”

Santana grabbed his shoulder. “Minjoon, calm down.”

“Nah. You heard him, he’s grown. He’s gotta hear this. You know that lil packing job your brother has at Costco? It’s bullshit. All the paystubs, the uniform he carries in his backpack. It’s all a front. Your brother’s a drug dealer. Actually, no. He’s a fucking KINGPIN. He runs the shit! Your brother has been running an entire street pharmacy under your know for YEARS and you knew nothing. You think Costco was giving him all that money to buy you shit? Headphones, Jordans, backpacks, that big ass bed you have, this sectional couch?”

Minjoon opened his mouth but didn’t know what to say.

“Minjoon, say something,” Santana said.

“How’s that possible? There have never been any drugs here. No guns, nothing. I know I would’ve noticed a kilo of fucking cocaine by now.”

“Every morning he’d drop you off at school, he’d come back to the house and bag what he brought in from the night before. All that time you thought he was sleeping, he was bagging up product. A few minutes before he left to go get you, I’d swing by, pick up the product, take it back to the warehouse. That way, he’d get work done and you’d never see an ounce.”

“So it was all a lie.” Minjoon shook his head. “He’s a fucking criminal.”

“Shut up,” Seonghwa said, his voice rising.

“Seonghwa.” Santana started.

“No. I gotta say this, Santana. Your brother lied to you, boo fuckin’ hoo. You know what else he did? Became your legal guardian at 18. He was a fucking kid, and he took on another child. Raised you since you were 13. By himself. There’s grown people out here who are struggling to take care of their own kid, and here comes HJ, making it look so fucking easy! You’ve never starved. Never fallen asleep too cold or too hot. He’s ran his own body into the ground so you can live like a fucking prince. He sleeps on a fucking couch! And he wakes up from it with a smile on his face! When he does sleep. Between being up all-night making money and up most of the day packing product AND driving you to school and back, it’s a surprise he has any time for Santana. I’m not saying he’s perfect. But he’s all you got. And that more than enough. So stop being so fucking ungrateful.”

Minjoon sighed. “I’m sorry, Seonghwa. I never thought of it that way. And I’m sorry to you, Santana. You deserve to spend more time with the guy you want to be with. It’ll be different from now on, I promise you.”

Santana smiled, resting her head on his shoulder.

“That’s right, Youngblood. Be a man. The sun’s gonna come up soon. I should head to the warehouse, make sure it’s clean. Stick together, especially this weekend. Take care of each other until HJ is back. He will be back, if it’s the last thing I do.” Seonghwa said, getting up from the couch. “Santana, lock the door.”

When Minjoon was out of range, Seonghwa whispered to Santana. “Make sure he straight, it’s a lot of information to take in for a kid, no matter how grown he thinks he is.” Santana nodded, locking the door.

“You knew all of this, and you still said yes to being with him?” Minjoon asked when Santana sat back down.

“I see past it all. Your brother is no blockhead. He’s intelligent. Talented. Caring. Look at all the things he’s done for you. He threw himself into a world of danger out of love for you. He’s been saving up to send you to college, disregarding his own dreams. It’s always ‘Minjoon first’ to him. He packed all the money into the baby carrier the cops found you in when you two were abandoned. He made sure Seonghwa and I would find it because he’s planning on turning himself in.”

“Wait, what? Why would he do that? He could get life!”

“Just like I said. He’s doing it for you. Time and time again, he says he’d give his life for you. That’s what he’s doing.”

“No, he’s not. We have to figure out where they’re holding him. Talk to him. If he goes to jail for wanting the best for me, I won’t be able to live with myself. We have to go now!”

“Seonghwa will look into the cop that came here to arrest him. When he figures where that cop works, we’ll know where to go. Try and get some rest for now.”

“If I can, with all the shit I learned today. You wanna take the bed? I don’t want you in here sleeping on some couch, especially without HJ. If something else happens, you’ll be safer in there.”

“Minjoon it’s fine, really.”

“I insist. My sheets are clean, I swear. That’s one thing Hongjoong is always on my ass about. Laundry.”

Santana laughed. “I’ll only go if you promise you’ll sleep.” When he nodded, she stood up.

“Goodnight, Minjoon.”

“Night, Santana.”

 When Santana awoke, it was well past noon. Minjoon wasn’t kidding about the bed being comfortable. Just as she rubbed her eyes, her phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Officer Carlo Bianchi. Works at Sing Sing. Visiting hours are over at 3pm, so get your asses in an uber NOW if you wanna see him today.” Seonghwa said on the other line, not bothering to greet.

“Thank you, Seonghwa. We’re leaving now.” She hung up.

She ran into the living room, where Minjoon was already awake, staring out the window.

“Hey! Let’s go, they got him in Sing Sing.”

“Shit, that far? Okay, I’m changing now.’ Minjoon scrambled into the room.

In 15 minutes flat, they were dressed and in the back of an uber. They arrived to the correctional facility a little after 1.

“Name of the inmate?” The guard at the door asked.

“Hongjoong Kim.”

“He’s new, so they might not bring him down, but you can have a seat down the hall to your left. If he’s able to take visitors, he will be escorted to you personally.”

They chose a table at the center of the room, observing the other inmates with their loved ones.

“We gotta get him outta here. This can’t become our lives. Seeing him for a few hours a day with a table between us?” Minjoon shook his head.

“Holy shit, they’re bringing him! He’s coming down!” Santana pointed.

Hongjoong entered the common area, dressed in an orange jumpsuit, handcuffed by the wrists and ankles. He looked like he hadn’t slept, and his usually styled hair was disheveled. Santana wanted badly to run and jump into his arms but could do nothing but sit and watch him be uncuffed to sit.

“Ain’t that the shirt you wore on Wednesday, motherfucker?” He eyed Minjoon once he finally sat down.

“Dude, you’re in fucking jail. There’s bigger problems than my shirt right now.” Minjoon said, smiling slightly. Even in a situation like this, his brother to make him smile.

“At least I can count on someone to look their best coming to see me.” Hongjoong turned to Santana. “How you sleep?”

“Clearly better than you.”

He shook his head. “Don’t worry about me. I’m where I should be. I’m guessing that if Minjoon is here, he must know the truth now.”

Minjoon nodded.

“Everything I did was for you. I can never get the image of Mom running into a car out of my head. I can never get that feeling of heartbreak out of me. I made a vow that no matter what, you never experienced that. I never wanted you to feel alone. In need.”

“And yet, here you are throwing in the towel. How can you say you don’t want me to feel abandoned when that’s what you’re doing? I know what you’ve done. What you’ve sold, what you work as, all of it. I thought long and hard about it. And guess what? I don’t feel any different. I loved you before I knew, and I love you now. But I don’t want to love you from a distance. Brother, please.”

Hongjoong looked away, focusing on nothing in particular. He turned to Santana. “Did you find what I sent you to get?”

She nodded. “The carrier.”

Hongjoong nodded. “It was initially just for Minjoon, but when I realized how I felt for you, I added more. That’s for the both of you. I want Minjoon in college. I want you to open your lil boutique and shit. Be what this world needs. Make money the right way.”

“What good is making bread if there’s no one to break it with? Hongjoong, listen to yourself.” Minjoon reached out to grab his hand.

“No touching.” The guard shouted from the door and Minjoon placed his hand back in his lap.

“HJ. Hear us out, PLEASE. Would you want us to give up on ourselves? What if Minjoon dropped out right now, despite being on track to graduate early? What if I just stopped sketching and designing altogether? You wouldn’t accept it from us, so why would you think we’d accept it from YOU?”

“Y’all don’t have an entire illegal business you’re responsible for. You’re not facing a 25 to life. That’s the difference, Santana.” Hongjoong shouted.

“Doesn’t mean you can’t have hope,” Minjoon said, fighting back tears. “We can use the money to bail you out. I can find another way to go to college.”

“Dry your face. I ‘hoped’ our mother would come back to us. I ‘hoped’ to grow old with the woman I love. Does it look like any of that happened? Hope doesn’t exist for Hongjoong. Never has. So, cut the crap. You’re not bailing me out. That money is for your future. Always has been. Don’t ” Hongjoong stood up, motioning for the guard to come over.

“You’re leaving? So soon?” Minjoon muttered.

“There’s nothing else to talk about. I made my decision.”

“Just like how Seonghwa had made his decision.” Santana blurted out.

“What?”

“The day Snake retired. You claimed ownership. That was the day Seonghwa was gonna quit the game.”

“How do you know this?” Hongjoong sat back down, causing the guard to roll his eyes and go back to his post.

“He told me last night. He was all set to go to culinary school. It was gonna be his last drop. Until you made him second in command. He realized the loyalty and trust you had in him, even back then. So, he stayed. He changed his mind. And he has your back to this day. Even now, while you’re locked up in here, he’s moving heaven and earth for you. Don’t make his efforts die in vain. The least you can do is have some fucking hope. Seonghwa does. Minjoon does. And I sure as hell do.”

Hongjoong sighed. “If you all believe I can get out of here, then I’m gonna believe it too. I’m gonna find it in me to have hope. I believe in you guys.”

“Seonghwa is gonna find a way to get you out of here. You’ll see Minjoon off to college. We’ll get some house in the middle of nowhere and grow old and wrinkly together. And all this hard work will pay off. Speaking it into existence.”

Hongjoong smiled. “I love you.”

“And I love you.”

“That’s a wrap! Visiting hours are now over. Visitors, please make a single file line to exit the facility, inmates please stand up and wait to be handcuffed by your guard.”

“I will see you guys soon?” Hongjoong asked.

“Of course. You can’t keep us away.” Santana said, causing him to laugh.

“I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

Santana and Minjoon stood on line, watching as the guard cuffed Hongjoong and once again took him up the stairs. Santana turned her phone back on once outside the building and notice several missed calls from Seonghwa. She called him immediately.

“Hello?”

“Santana? You’re out?”

“Yeah, just now. Why?”

“I sent you an address. Come quick. I think I found a way to get HJ out.”

[roslinadama-sinequanon]

Season 1-Reloaded

I had planned on doing a full MC re-watch during the hiatus, but decided, thanks to @milquetoast-on-acid  to post my ramblings about each episode. So here goes.

1. Sharon the outsider-I have gone back and watched some of my favorite episodes many times but this is the first time I’ve gone back to episode one. I found that for me, now that we know Sharon as we do, it was hard to experience Sharon as the outsider, disliked and disrespected. Especially because she’d made great strides in the last couple seasons on the Closer in being seen as more of an ally rather than adversary. But by putting her in charge of the division that effectively erased whatever gains she’d made.

2. The crime scene-It is apparent that Provenza’s leadership style is very much on par with Brenda’s, and since they are looking for someone to gain control of what is considered a sort of wayward department it’s pretty apparent why they decided not to let him stay in that position of authority.

However, although some of what we see is the same, there is already a different dynamic in play. The team is being allowed to engage in a way that they were not allowed to do so in The Closer. In particular, I enjoyed watching Andy and his interrogation. On TC that would have been Brenda in the car, but in this new show, the talents and abilities of the team are going to be utilized in a way that only grows under the more inclusive leadership of Sharon Raydor. I especially liked seeing this in Andy as you can see his metamorphosis begin right from episode one. Most times on TC, he was either the comic relief or the hotheaded ladies man but we can see from the start on MC that this is a more mature, focused Andy Flynn.  I did not watch The Closer while it was running. I only went back to watch it after I fell in love with Major Crimes and I wasn’t always a fan of Andy’s on TC, but like Sharon, now I love him. And I am glad we’ve gotten to watch him evolve due to the new focus of MC where the members of the team are no longer one-dimensional characters. There were many sides to Andy that we probably just never got to see on TC because the focus was entirely on Brenda. And AA, counseling and Sharon have made a big difference in Andy’s attitude and life.

3. Sharon arrives- Oh, it’s the Darth Raydor trench coat, a tribute to the way she first walked onto TC---only this time, the way she walks in is very different. It’s the same coat, but not quite the same Sharon. On TC, she walks in issuing rapid-fire orders in complete authority. On MC, it is she who is being briefed on the scene and absorbing what she is being told and she looks slightly ill at ease. We find out why very quickly. When Taylor informs Provenza that she is now the one in charge, instead of wielding her authority the way she did in TC, Sharon holds back. She isn’t happy about the way this has been handled and she is treading lightly, trying to get the lay of the land. In her role in FID, she was very sure of herself and in command but we can see that right now she is really feeling things out, not quite sure of herself at all. And that leaves us feeling kind of unbalanced too because we are used to seeing Raydor in full authority.

4. The way the transition from Brenda to Sharon was handled-I thought it was pretty crummy of Taylor to announce to the team that they have a new boss at a crime scene in the middle of an investigation. And so does Sharon. When Taylor tells her it was the right time, Sharon says they should have waited and that is because Sharon is professional and respectful and having made this move she would have wanted to do her best to ease the team into the transition. But as @milquetoast-on-acid​ said in her terrific analysis, it was all about a power play for Taylor. He enjoyed seeing the kick in the gut that it was to Provenza--and let’s face it--it really was a kick in the gut. He seemed to take some kind of perverse joy in humiliating  him this way. And it put Sharon in a very difficult position. The team already had reservations about her; this only helped to foster their dislike of her. And Taylor didn’t give a damn. He just sat back and enjoyed the show.  I never liked Taylor on MC or on TC--he is very much on the Winnie Davis/Chief Pope spectrum, it’s all about them, all about the power they want and wield. Sharon Raydor’s leadership, as we will come to see is so different. Sharon tries to bring out the very best in every member of her team and she truly cares about them as people.

5.  So you were tortured- Ah, here come Rusty Beck back into our lives. “I will take care of him,” Sharon says. Oh, if only she knew…I have always thought Sharon does a great job of balancing firm authority with genuine caring and never do we see that more than we do with Rusty. She might not be completely sympathetic to Rusty’s complaints, but she is willing to listen to him. I love how the whole time Rusty is griping Sharon is walking around examining her new office with a little smile. It shows us that she is thrilled and excited about having this new position. Sharon wiggling her butt in her new chair--LOVE IT. It’s HER desk now and she has taken control.

6. I don’t know you, but I don’t like you, I’d like to talk to Brenda please-This could be anyone on the team speaking these words. Sharon responds “Well, I’m afraid you’re at the back of a very long line”. Sharon gets it and she’s got a thick skin thanks to her days in FID but it has to be extremely difficult professionally and emotionally to take over for someone, especially someone who was very well liked.  And then Sharon’s “I’m who you’ve got”. Again, that statement could be for the whole team. Brenda is gone, I’m here, we need get over it and move forward.

7. “As commanding officer responsible for the conduct of this investigation I would like to know what we are up against NOW.”-Sharon is done pussyfooting around. The team is sulking, ignoring her, not answering her questions, pointedly reading things and not looking at her, but when Provenza has his little outburst--his personal feelings spewing forth in the middle of a murder investigation-- she has had ENOUGH. She is not going to allow their personal feelings to interfere with the investigation. It was nice to see her take control and it was needed. Fritz seemed pretty impressed with the way she took things in hand. And, interesting to see that it is Andy Flynn who is the first to come to her aid and start briefing her. Andy, who had all those runs -in with Sharon on TC. @milquetoast-on-acid​ had some very good reasons why Andy may have been chosen to become Sharon’s right hand man, which made a lot of sense. Andy is the polar opposite of Sharon in temperament, he and Sharon had a pretty adversarial relationship on TC in the beginning and he is also Provenza’s best friend. So, if Andy can come around, everyone should be able to come around, including the viewers. It would never have been as effective if they’d used Mike first as he is the most mature,  kind and laid back guy on the team. Also, I think Sharon really needed the expert advice of a homicide veteran to help her wade through these new waters and Andy is far more open to change than Provenza. At the start of MC Andy is in transition himself, looking to the latest health trends, trying to better himself psychologically and physically. I’m sure AA is a big part of that. If anyone sees on a day-to-day basis how people can change, it is someone who goes to AA meetings.

8. Sharon’s smile of pride when Friz says Amy was right-Sharon is not blind or stupid. She knows that Amy is kissing her ass to get the job, but she likes Amy, sees something in her and we know from TC and the conversations she had with Brenda, that Sharon is the kind of woman who enjoys mentoring women just starting out on the force and helping women to get a step up in the LAPD. So, it was smart of the writers to have their first case involve the military so we got Amy’s background and expertise--and to see that her new boss is already taking pride in her. How nice is it to have a female character who is not threatened by another female character’s success and can actually foster that development.

9. The Andy/Sharon morgue scene- This is the scene that Duff says caused Andy to make a 180 on his feelings for Sharon. There he is berating Sharon for not using the victims first name, then yelling in her face that “every problem we’re having is because of you” and rather than get defensive and fight back she says “You are right, Andy” and then goes on to point out why and a few seconds later they are sitting side by side, heads together as a team banging ideas off one another. Although there are still some rocky moments ahead, that’s the moment they really became a team and Andy became Sharon’s go-to guy.

10. Fritz getting Brenda’s candy- “Good job today” he tells Sharon. Sharon and Fritz have always had a really great working relationship. It kind of got a little shaky when he was Asst. Chief, but as Sharon said “the job changes you”, part of the reason she didn’t want. But already I can see the old Fritz coming back. Fritz easily could have gone the other way. Sharon was taking his wife’s old job because she got herself into too much trouble and saw the writing on the wall, but instead of hoping Sharon fails, he is happy that she is succeeding. Again it’s so nice to see mature functional behavior in TV characters when most of the time we get overblown dysfunction--without it being hallmark syrupy sweet.

11. I have raised two teenagers, I have a tremendous capacity for ingratitude-Just like at work, Sharon is calm and centered. As hard as he is trying, she is not going to let Rusty get under her skin. This is a woman who has had to really develop some thick skin both at work being in FID and at home having to raise to two children as a single mother.

A couple observations about this scene. First of all we have Rusty unable to understand why Sharon is living alone. He's lived his entire life--until he was abandoned-- with a mother who was always dependent on others, who went from man to man, even prostituting herself because of her addictions and because she could not stand up on her own two feet. And when she was in between guys for short periods of time it was Rusty who had to take care of her. Therefore, the idea of a woman who is able to take care of herself without a man is something he just doesn't understand--so he has to assume there is something wrong with her for not having a man in her life. I like to think that this is one of the many lessons that Rusty has learned from Sharon.  When it came to living with Gus, he didn't want to be a kept man because of his past with prostitution, but I also think that he has learned from Sharon that when he moves away from home he needs to be independent and able to stand on his own two feet and not be completely reliant on someone else the way his biological mother always was.

Also, it’s interesting that it is Rusty who pushes the personal boundaries between them first. When he asks what he should call her she says “Captain Raydor” and he quips, “Then you can call me Mr. Beck.” “You are the child here,” she states and he says “No, if you are the police captain than I am the witness.” Sharon comes around with a smile and tells him there aren’t many people around (I’m assuming she means in the LAPD) who call her Sharon, but he can.  Of course, this causes him to immediately push her away as he realizes she has not been looking for his mother as she said she had--and this is the first and last time Sharon ever lies to him--she also learns her lessons well. So, Rusty was actually the first to attempt to forge a sort of relationship beyond police captain/witness.

And, about her not allowing many at work to use her first name, the fact that Andy Flynn was the first and only to do so in the division--well before they were formally dating--speaks volumes.

12. Last scene-Sharon hugs the pillow to her chest and I think we can all feel her physical and emotional exhaustion. I really felt for her in that moment.