#just because the train has changed tracks; that doesn’t mean the original track is lost

[bruja1837]

Random Rant #1

((Flavor of the day: a base of “people enjoy many different things and it’s wonderful how unique people can be!” mixed with a bucket load of “it’s ok if your interests/range of knowledge isn’t that diverse because it’s YOUR life and YOU get to decide the comfort hyperfixation/special interest!” Since ADHD brain decided to put a bookmark on the original thought because it remembered a very specific bs extrovert opinion and decided that it must die by my blade.)) ((edit. Tagging led to what is essentially a second post about ADHD train of thought)) 💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚 ❤️GO WILD! YOUR INTERESTS AND LIFESTYLES DONT NEED TO BE TRAPPED IN A SINGLE NICHE! don't get me wrong, If you got a hyperfixation or some kind of specific thing that brings you joy than power to ya! Im not saying you gotta branch out into things you aren't interested in to have "well rounded interests". trust me, I’ve been on the other end of that conversation plenty a times, and I STILL don’t give a fuck about learning about stuff that I’m not interested in so I can be the fucking circus clown and entertain strangers in conversation!

🧡 Counterpoint: if you wanna info dump to me about something you like I WILL LITERALLY TAKE NOTES AND LOVE YOU ALL THE MORE FOR IT! BECAUSE WHILE IT MAY NOT BE ON MY MIND, ITS CLEARLY SOMETHING THATS IMPORTANT TO YOU AND IM HONORED THAT YOU TRUST ME ENOUGH TO BE COMFORTABLE OPENING UP ABOUT YOURSELF!!! But the fact of the matter is, I’m not learning about recent trends for the sole purpose of making conversation with random people at the dollar store. Especially if I’m likely to never see them again.

💛This isn’t a jab at people who are “hip” and “with the times” btw, it’s just not my cup of tea, so it’s weird to learn stuff for a possible conversation that I’m unlikely to have since I’m an ambrivert and thus not the type to go out of my way and partake in small talk with people I don’t know. But if I DO make a friend who’s reliably up to date, I will absolutely use them for updates (this is a tribute to the time I had to ask “what the FUCK is a “poggers”???” )

🧡Helpful tip. if you wanna continue having a conversation with someone, and they talk about something you don’t know about, all you have to say is “interesting, tell me more” . YOU DONT NEED TO PLAY A BINGO GAME WITH A GOOGLE WHEEL OF FORTUNE! If you wanna START a conversation, #1 coming to me for advice was a horrible decision really, and #2 JUST GO WITH WHAT YOU KNOW! If you get a negative response (they mock you for not knowing stuff) DITCH THEY ASS! IT AINT WORTH IT! ❤️I'm just saying you should enjoy things that make you happy without worrying if it's imperfect! YOU CAN BE A JUMBLED MESS OF A BEING! YOU CAN BE SIMPLE AND STREAMLINED! YOU CAN BE THE TRAIN ON A FEW TRACKS CRASHING THROUGH EVERYTHING IN YOUR WAY! DECORATE YOUR ENTIRE LIFE WITH THAT ONE CONFORT INTEREST! HAVE EVERYTHING YOU OWN BE A CONTRADICTING MESS OF EVERYTHING YOUVE LOVED OVER THE YEARS! ITS YOUR LIFE AND YOU GET TO DECIDE WHERE YOU SOURCE YOUR SEROTONIN! PICK WHATEVER BRAND/FLAVOR OF SEROTONIN YOU LIKE! IGNORE STUPID ELITISTS WHO SAY YOU SHOULD PICK THE BRAND WITH LESS HAPPY CHEMICAL VALUE! ONLY CHOSE EXPENSIVE BRANDS (either literal money or metaphorical energy tax) IF YOU LIKE THE FLAVOR AND/OR COMES WITH GOOD INVESTMENT! JUST BECAUSE YOUR TIME HAS TICKED CLOSER TO THE END DAYS DOESNT MEAN YOU CANT KEEP RAKING IN SEROTONIN! PAINT THE WALLS LIKE SHERBERT ICECREAM! GET A PINK LEPORD PRINT COUCH! STARE DOWN THE IGNORANT FOOL JUDGING YOU IN THE TOY ISLE! KNOW THAT THEY HAVE GIVEN UP ON THEIR CHILDHOOD DREAMS AND WILL NEVER HAVE THE LEGO SET YOU FINALY HAVE!

[rotten7rat]

Jason Todd Playlist Analysis

PART 1

Crooked Path by Polaris

One of many songs that will be about the difficult relationship between Jason and Bruce. Kind of about Jason reaching out to Bruce just for him to not be there, and about Bruce reaching out just for Jason not to be there either. Their differences divide them, but their love keeps them from parting.

I'm reaching out, please take my hand

The water's getting higher and I can't understand

Why I can't pull you in

Do you even care?

Do you even want me there?

This part refers to Jason reaching out to Bruce through his ultimatums and attempted truces eventually, just to seemingly only get Batman and not Bruce. Jason is struggling to stay afloat while feeling so isolated, he needs Bruce but isn’t directly saying so. He questions if Bruce even cares for him or is glad he is alive.

We are the victims just like our parents taught us to be

Roots planted firmly, but we fell so far from the tree

And still we cling to the past with an iron grip

Comparing their origins as heroes/antiheroes. Bruce became Batman because of the murder of his parents. Jason became Robin first to help Batman in his quest and to help the victims of crime, especially women and children. He then became Red Hood as a means of getting revenge and protecting Crime Alley. Despite their intentions they both have fallen far from the original inspirations of their work. Both Bruce and Jason cling to their pasts to justify the decisions they make and the work they do as heroes.

My will is spent

I used the very last drop

Trying to keep my head on straight enough

I know it hurts

It hurts to feel it all slip right past you

I just want to ask you

This part can reference their final confrontation in UtRH. Jason spent years training and planning for his takeover of Crime Alley and this moment in particular. He doesn’t blame Bruce for his death, he acknowledges even that it hurt him.

Was there something holding you back?

Have you had to cover your tracks

So long, you lost your identity?

Is there something dragging you down?

Crippled under the weight of the crown

What are you waiting, oh, what are you waiting for?

What are you waiting for?

He's asking what stopped Bruce from killing the Joker, what’s stopping him now. In his mind, Bruce treated his death not as him losing a son, but as Batman losing a soldier. He’s buried Bruce Wayne under so many layers of Batman that he’s lost his own identity. He understands that “Batman doesn’t kill” but why not just this once? Why try to live up to the standards of Batman when your son has been murdered?

For all of our differences

I always said I'd be there if you should come undone

Jason was by Bruce’s side as Robin for years, and even now is still in his corner. When push comes to shove he will always help Bruce, even if its just as Red Hood and Batman (obviously this depends on the comic and writer).

There are ghosts in every window

And they'll follow you back home

But if you stay a moment

I can tell you all I know

Of how these times have changed us

How they bring us to our knees

How they send us down the crooked path

Divide us temporarily

This could be Jason talking to Bruce, but also Bruce talking to Jason. Jason is asking Bruce to understand him, Bruce is telling Jason that he does. Both fall on deaf ears.

I said I'm sorry, I swear I'll do better

I never thought we'd have to carry this weight together

This is contagion, a plague that I bear

And it kills me to say that I really need you here

Again, this could be both Jason and Bruce talking to one another. They’re both sorry, they both swear to do better. They’re both probably apologising for the wrong thing. They never thought that this would be their relationship. Even after everything that’s happened, they still can’t part ways, they’re too bonded. They both carry the weight of Jason’s death, his return, but they can’t just say “I’m sorry, I need you, please come back.”

[rayylock]

tell me some of your dangerverse hcs!

alrighty ! i’m gonna section them off so that it’s easier to read .

henry danger ( kinda leaks into df sorry lol ) :

- ray is a trans man . captain man says trans rights fr .

- schwoz is trans too . he’s weird enough i don’t think i need to put him through more shit through future hcs ( affectionate ) .

- henry does NOT become a complete asshole in dystopia . i’ve seen one too many fics showing he does and he did not spend his entire childhood being somewhat of a moral compass to do a complete 180 . he is a dork who says he’s in a band but immediately backtracks because he knows lying is pointless and giggles when complimented , all in canon .

- charlotte , robot enhancements and all her glorious self , doesn’t become president , but becomes a prosecutor of the law instead . after her gap year in dystopia , she realized how corrupt the system is everywhere , not only in swellview . she is now studying criminal justice in harvard :}

- jasper has a major glow up . not a hc just a fact . he also learned to fight outside of sleeping so he could react faster without having to wait to be konked out by the gum .

- kris and jake hart do their own thing now , but are still married . they came to the conclusion that even though their kids are out of the house they would still eventually need a support system . by they i mean kris . they both also still love each other , but aren’t in love yk ?

- after graduating from uni and having felt success from her social media fame , piper moved back to swellview to help track down villains , and mika appreciates the extra help , because it turns out piper is actually really good at doxxing people . i will not elaborate . oh and also she scares ray so she got him to actually pay the df kids lmao .

danger force :

- mika is a bi trans girl . deal with it .

- chapa is nonbinary and still uses she / her . she’s also aromatic but is open to queer platonic relationships !

- miles is unlabeled . we love that for him , truly a king .

- bose is bi because have you seen him ??

- chapa always carries a taser to she can get away with zapping people outside of fighting crime without raising suspicion .

- when miles first started randomly teleporting everywhere , he was overwhelmed by the constant change in everything that he had to teach himself how to calm down , and now he’s excellent at teaching and helping others calm down .

- after joining df , they would all train together , and one day while training , ray threw a ball at bose and he started lightly crying . he caught it , he just was happy crying because he never got to play the whole father - son catch cliché game .

- mika used to go out into the desert to practice her super screaming , but after a while she started fainting during the day , so now she trains in one of the many rooms in the man’s nest that has been renovated by schwoz to be soundproof .

- as much as ray misses his original kids , in one of his rarest mature moments , he realizes that he shouldn’t compare them . he also decides to be more careful with them than he was with henry , causing that whole “ no powers = no crime fighting “ situation in canon . he can’t risk losing more of his kids , especially so young .

- I LIED MORE SCHWOZ . when the df kids lost their powers , schwoz didn’t sleep until he came up with an antidote he thought would work based on the gas clown’s gas . when it didn’t work he was devastated , but he wouldn’t show the full extent of it . he knew it would effect the kids and he knew he could try again . the following days he spent in his lab , running on illegal caffeine , and eventually passed out from exhaustion . mika found him and put a blanket over him that miles made , having wanted to apologize for how unfair they were being towards him , because after all , he’s only human .

[adobe-outdesign]

Pokemon Worldbuilding Headcanons, Part 2

Part 2 of this. Some are based on the game, some on the anime, and some directly contradict both because the Pokemon lore is made up and your feelings don’t matter.

Intelligence

Pokemon are generally sentient and sapient, and most have strong cognitive abilities.

They don’t know the names of their moves innately, but will quickly learn what words correlate to what moves once they’ve started training.

They’re also quite good at picking up tone of voice and will learn their trainer’s body language as they work together, making it relatively easy for trainers to understand their Pokemon and vice versa.

Some Pokemon can learn to speak English if they have vocal cords capable of mimicking human speech, but this isn’t common. More commonly, many psychic types can communicate with telepathy, and many Pokemon can learn sign language.

There are many Pokemon-specific types of sign language that have been modified to accommodate for different numbers of fingers.

Pokemon therapists (therapists that help Pokemon, not Pokemon that are therapists) exist. In addition to helping with human-Pokemon relations (like helping trainers better understand their Pokemon), they also help Pokemon recover from mental trauma and help diagnose various mental illnesses. They usually work with translators.

Occasionally, a psychic human will be able to understand Pokemon via a specific type of telepathy. They commonly work as professional translators, and will commonly pick up jobs as nurses, therapists, rehabilitators, and more.

Highly intelligent Pokemon will occasionally become Pokemon trainers themselves--there’s no laws against it, though many object to it on principle.

A famous example was an Alakazam that eventually got fed up with its abusive trainer and, realizing no trainer could ever be smarter than them, became a trainer themselves. They eventually made it to gym leader status.

Some intelligent Pokemon form their own mini-societies out in the wilderness. These are designated as no-catch zones, though the Pokemon that live there can always choose to leave if they want to find a trainer to partner with.

Pokemon Centers

Pokemon nurses work at Pokemon Centers. They deal with day-to-day healings, checkups, and other small medical issues. More serious issues are handled by Pokemon doctors at hospitals.

Pokemon nurses treat all species of Pokemon, as they know some degree of standard medical care that’s near-universal.

Pokemon doctors, meanwhile, are trained in specific types and phylogenies, making them experts but only for a small amount of Pokemon.

Pokemon can instantly be teleported to various hospitals for treatment if the issue is too severe or specific for the Center to treat. Pokemon that know teleport are used to move medicine and Pokemon that won’t go in Pokeballs. 

Pokemon can be instantly healed by adding small amounts of energy to them while they’re in their Pokeballs, which helps them recover from minor injuries such as cuts, bruises, small burns, ect.

This process does not help heal severe injuries (illness, broken bones, internal issues, ect.). Instead, these injuries are treated over time using more traditional methods.

Sleep powder is used on Pokemon when they first are released inside of the center/hospital, so nurses/doctors don’t have to worry about getting attacked while looking them over. (Pokemon that are immune to sleep powder are usually paralyzed with stun spore or have disable used on them instead, depending on what needs to be done.)

Pokeballs can be life-saving, as the Pokemon’s energy form means that while it can still become weak and faint, it won’t take severe bodily damage from injuries. This gives trainers more time to get their Pokemon to a medical center and the doctors more time to prepare treatments.

Pokerus is a mutualistic virus; the virus lives in the body and produces energy as a waste product, which is then absorbed by Pokemon. This has a lot of positive health benefits for them, such as faster evolution rates. The only effects are mild fever and cough, which go away as the virus becomes dormant after about 4 days.

However, the reason people don’t actively try to spread it around constantly is that Pokerus can spread to humans, and the effects are much more dangerous than in Pokemon (with no additional benefits to boot). Ergo, most Pokemon that catch it are quarantined, and many trainers get Pokerus vaccinations to be safe. 

Tech

Cars exist, but aren’t used often as many Pokemon view them as threats and will attack them on sight. They’re not really commercially viable anyway when you can just saddle up a large Pokemon you caught instead.

Pokeballs have trackers built into them, so they can be easily relocated if lost. Most Pokemon Centers will have at least one Pokemon that knows teleport that can retrieve the ball as well.

Pokemon Storage Systems are relatively new. They work by teleporting a Pokeball into a large designated storage space, usually a warehouse or an underground area. When a person’s license is scanned, a machine finds and teleports back the Pokeball based on an automated grid system.

The warehouses are heavily guarded at all times, and because the contents of the Pokeballs aren’t labeled poachers are usually deterred from trying to steal from them directly.

The trays that the balls are stored in are known as “boxes”, hence why its referred to as “boxing your Pokemon”.

The energy of a Pokemon is slowed when in storage, effectively putting them to sleep. This allows them to remain in their Pokeballs for longer periods of time. Legally, Pokemon cannot be stored for more than a month for their well-being.

TMs are CDs that are inserted into a cube-like device that the Pokeball is then placed into. These change the simulation inside a Pokeball, creating scenarios that help the Pokemon to learn the new move. They work most of the time, but there’s no guarantee that your Pokemon will figure it out.

Teleportation technology is still being developed. Small objects can be teleported effortlessly; teleportation of living creatures and larger objects is a more recent, hence why warp tiles aren’t used everywhere.

Teleportation was figured out by studying psychic-types who know the move. Catching or renting a psychic-type is still one of the fastest ways to get around.

Food

People used to hunt Pokemon a few thousand years ago out of necessity, though they stuck to common, lower-intelligence Pokemon like Margikarp and Farfetch'd (which is how they became rare). However, this has fallen out of practice over time as humans and Pokemon have gotten closer.

There are many ways to ethically source meat and dairy products. Miltank produce milk, Chansey produce infertile eggs, and Slowpoke and Crabrawler naturally drop and regenerate body parts that can be farmed without harming them (tails and claws, respectively). Other than that, humans rely on plant-based food/synthetic meat in order to get by.

Carnivore Pokemon will hunt and kill other Pokemon in the wild; in captivity, they eat the aforementioned ethically sourced meat.

Pokemon don’t really have “hunting instincts”, in the sense that they won’t blindly maim other prey Pokemon. Indeed, Pokemon in captivity understand that their trainers will feed them, and thus won’t risk harming other Pokemon less they get attacked themselves.

With that said, it’s generally recommended to not put your Corsola and Mareanie on the same team, solely because there’ll likely always be tension between two rival Pokemon and they’re unlikely to get along (though predator/prey friendships aren’t unheard of).

Some intelligent Pokemon have been known to farm both plants and other Pokemon out in the wild, in order to have a continuous food source.

Intelligent Pokemon also understand how to cook and mix ingredients. There are quite a few commonplace recipes in the Pokemon world that originated from Pokemon themselves.

Laws and Regulations

It is illegal to catch immature baby Pokemon, as they’re still too young to leave their parents at that stage (so you couldn’t catch a one-tailed baby Vulpix, for example).

Vintage Pokeballs have to be retrofitted with modern tech. This is because modern tech has things like the aforementioned tracking devices that make them safer to use.

Rare species of Pokemon, legendaries, and shinies are frequently moved onto preserves for protection against poachers. While people are welcome to visit these spaces, they are no-catch zones and rangers enforce this law strictly.

There are several different types of Pokemon licenses, with varying difficulties in obtaining them.

The default licenses can be obtained by anyone 8 years or older, and allows for Pokemon to live in a domestic setting. This requires passing a variety of tests covering basic Pokemon laws and welfare, and is easy to obtain.

Trainer licenses (10+ years) allow for Pokemon to be battled with, entered in contests, ect. This requires having a default license, passing a test regarding safe battling methods, and passing a test battle with a rental Pokemon (doesn’t matter if you win; it’s more about technique, caring for the Pokemon, ect.)

It is only legal to batte without a trainer license if it’s an act of self-defense.

There are also separate licenses for medical and commercial use of Pokemon. These are only obtainable by adults and regulated by the government.

Technically speaking, there’s a permit needed in order to ride Pokemon to make sure that traffic laws are obeyed. Few people with rideable Pokemon actually bother getting one however.

Licenses can be revoked for a number of reasons. Whether or not a licenses is revoked is determined by the local authorities or a judge, if necessary.

Guns and weaponry technically exist, but are almost never used. The reason for this is that a bullet is highly unlikely to kill any given Pokemon, and that Pokemon can and will outright kill someone if they harm their trainer. Ergo, it’s easier to just battle and knock out a person’s Pokemon legally in a battle.

Pokemon that commit crimes are usually judged based on whether or not they were acting of their own accord or being psychology manipulated or abused into performing the act. Most Pokemon are put into rehabilitation programs and may be rehomed or released if the rehab is successful.

If it’s not sucessful, the Pokemon has a tracker placed on them and they’re released into private, sanctioned-off wild areas where they can’t hurt other Pokemon or people.

Wild areas have official ratings regarding how dangerous they are to be in, which is based on factors like the kind of wild Pokemon living there. This helps trainers pick out areas that are relatively safe for catching (or not, if they’ve got a strong team already and want something more powerful).

Funerals

A Pokemon’s body deteriorates into energy after 1-2 weeks or so, depending on size.

There are a variety of funeral options for a deceased Pokemon. Funeral services are almost always a given, which can be small ceremonies for friends or larger events for more well-known Pokemon (such as those belonging to gym leaders). Burials, cremations, and more are all options.

One option that’s been rising in popularity is to return the Pokemon’s body to their Pokeball, then breaking the capture mechanism to prevent stealing of higher-end balls. The Pokeball is then placed on a pillow in a “cubby” with a glass door, which can be filled with belongings, favored items, or photographs.

The Pokeballs can be kept as-is, polished and shined to look like new, or even decorated in things like gold leaf, depending on the trainer’s preferences.

A Pokemon can only stay in its ball for 1-3 years straight without eventually dying from energy atrophy (thankfully, this is painless). Because Pokemon can leave their balls whenever they want, deaths like this are virtually unheard of.

Ghost-type Pokemon can sometimes be spirits of the deceased (both humans and Pokemon), but they can also be just random collections of energy. There are also regular ghosts, which are different from ghost-types and cannot be caught.

Catching ghost-types is illegal around most burial grounds, as many of them are just visiting their former trainers as they come by to mourn.

Pokemon that are ghosts retain their memories of their past lives, and can still use attacks that they knew previously.

Ghost-types don’t usually remember their previous lives, but it isn’t unheard of for them to remember one or two former attacks despite this. This means that ghost-types can potentially know any type of attack outside of the ones they know naturally or learn from TMs.

[prof-peach]

if fans wanted to include peach in stuff they write, would that be okay? and how would they write peach's personality? aside from "FIGHT ME" anyway, i think that much is a given lol. i only really write the anime characters 'cause that's what i know, but it sounds like it'd be kinda fun to try making a version of ash that fits into this blog's universe! nerf'd Obviously, but i think she'd probably appreciate how hands-on he gets when training his pokemon!

Ok, I get a lot of these messages, and I often hear folks wanting to throw peach into their stories and comics and writings, and I will always simply ask that if it’s published online publicly, to be linked to it so I can snoop and enjoy the content too. If someone asks about her in your work, let them know about the blog I guess? But literally I love that people take this stuff, these characters and stories, and make new stuff with it. No ones making money off my work here? So where’s the issue? Go for it buddy, knock yourself out, I’m all for it.

For you, and all the others out there who want to add peach, and other characters to your world building, I will give you a detailed rundown of the main lot, and how they behave, what they do, how they function. You can use that, use bits, or use none of it, I do not mind at all. If you’re creating something, you’re in control, not me.

So, peach doesn’t actually fight people as much as you’d think. She’s very aware most cannot and do not want to do that, and so she likes to keep to herself with regards to that aspect of her life, she doesn’t ask to spar with people, or even bring it up at all, but people ask her all the time, even if they clearly would lose or become hurt should she miscalculate during the fight. She looks at people like they usually create problems, and often has a somewhat reserved nature to other humans. You have to work quite hard to get anything more than formalities out of her. She will dead-pan handle people with blunt and very to-the-point statements, aid whenever possible, but very quickly get back to handling the Pokemon she so carefully tends. Her focus is clear, she’s all about hard work, her very small select family, and the Pokemon.

Her brutal, loud and brash personality only comes out with friends, family, difficult humans, OR any Pokemon. She will joke and laugh and play with Pokemon, but clam up around humans, maintaining tight body language and generally will be a little cold by regular standards. She does however have some weaknesses in this emotionless shield she puts up. When peach was young she was always angry, which swung so fast to sadness, back and forth. Her teenage years it just got worse and worse, it was crippling at points. She is to this day, full of fire and rage, even sadness, but now she has learnt to control it, to use it. When she sees that in others, it’s familiar, and she is pushed to drop the front, and be very real with the person. Underdogs I suppose, people who get bad reps, but deserve the same as everyone else. She can’t ignore it.

Once you start to pry open her personality, you’ll find she’s a lot more laid back and fun than originally appeared, you just have to work hard to find that side of her. She will meme reference, can’t dance to save her life, loves her coffee, and can be caught in quiet contemplation while gardening. This hobby is her calmest, and often is why she can stay so level headed when her quiet rage boils up again. Without time outside she will become grouchy, a little snippy, and lethargic. Will not go in the ocean for any reason other than life or death, is fine with ponds and rivers, or water at wading height. Likes the rain.

With regards to her training others, they usually have to tolerate her somewhat strict nature. She is a little....unforgiving, holds a grudge if you make a lot of mistakes, and has no tolerance for ignorance in the age of information that we all live in. In previous posts I’ve mentioned she’s only recently selected two students, after many years of testing kids who want to learn from her. Hundred tried out, only two have ever been approved. How she teaches is very fast paced, be prepared to get some scrapes and bruises, she will test your physical and emotional tolerances with intense tasks, carefully watching students like a hawk. Bad posture in your stance? She’ll be the first to tell you to sort it out. Not hearing your Pokemon partner? Right, now you spend the day without using words trying to communicate, let’s see how you like not being listened to.

This is a woman who has spent her life saying very little, and watching everything, she watches Pokemon and can see an issue from a mile off, and in battles, her observations are why she can react fast, and chose effective strategy to avoid damage and achieve results. Don’t let her body fool you, her strongest asset is analysing, watching, planning. Those skills have over the years transferred to people too. As a student, mistakes don’t go unnoticed with this professor.

Her methods are harsh but fair, and should you prove yourself, she will protect you with her life.

Because of her disinterest in kids and lots of noise, she does pass the training of students on to the other staff members whenever possible. Grey takes on the lions share of battle lessons, he is far calmer, more open and friendly, with patience for people, and an empathy that peach sometimes struggles to have. When you go through a lot of harsh training, and difficult events, it’s hard to change how you feel or think, with peach, well, she’s been through it. Most do not come out the other end in one piece, but she did, and it made her strong. You may think I mean strong like buff and big, and yeah sure she is, but I mean it mentally more than anything. Peach will not quit. She has learnt to destroy the boundaries that stop people getting hurt, gone is the fear that freezes you in your tracks, that feeling that you’ll pass out if you go one more step. She’s learnt to ignore it.

This means she’s a little forgetful at how it is to be normal, to be vulnerable and soft and squishy like students so usually are.

She has her issues, but for the most part, visitors get a laugh, a smile, a calm assertive confidence, and facts. She will indulge those who have genuine interest, or show a connection with nature, an understanding of the balance that needs to be struck for everyone to live well together.

Despite her many flaws, she’s fiercely protective, and will go above and beyond to defend the island, it’s staff, the Pokemon and the visitors. Injustice is her biggest gripe, along with littering, and she doesn’t stand by quietly if something happens that seems unfair.

You will not see her without Valka, her vulpix, close by. That Pokemon doesn’t like to be touched by strangers, at all, and will run the second someone comes at her with that intent. Peach will scold you for pushing yourself onto her, should you persistently try to get close to pet Val. They are in sync, if peach is sad, Val is sad, if Val is stressed, peach is stressed, and so on. They are inherently connected, it’s just been that long, the psychic bridge between them has been built, and reinforced over the years.

The only other Pokemon who follows her so endlessly is Booker, a teddiursa who’s pretty rough looking. He quietly trots behind, grouchy and stoic, they fight closely together a lot. He lost his mom a long time ago to poachers, and peach took him in, and changed her whole life for him. Not many people know, but Booker was the reason she left the rangers, changed career, and got so strong. Will tolerate people petting him but isn’t keen at all, grumbles a lot and tries to move away.

You may also need to know about the others, for the sake of writing, she here a few more bits that may be important to you, or others wanting to do this.

Grey is very tall, very burly, composed, tells bad dad jokes, is a bit of a goof if allowed to be. If he sees a pun, he’ll say it. Can’t help himself. Very nice guy to work with, good at keeping people calm and grounded. Pokemon are drawn to him like a moth to a flame, he gives off warm energy, and has inhuman amounts of patience. If you wrong his family however, he will snap back.

He grew up in the city, loves to swim and hike and cycle, can snowboard, is really sporty. A total brain box with held items, and boosting stats. He will explore many paths, to make sure visitors and students get the information they need, in a way that can be remembered and retained for later. Is a huge guy, but will get on the floor to play with a tiny Pokemon. Treats big “meaner” looking species like babies, very good with all pokemon.

His free time is spent either tinkering, swimming, or trimming his bonsai trees. This guy stares at screens a lot, so appreciates time away from them. Peach built him his own little greenhouse for his trees and tools, which he keeps clean and loves dearly.

His methods as a teacher are built around fun and games, he makes hard work easier to do by distracting trainers from the difficult bits, and focusing in on something more interesting or compelling.

His most commonly seen Pokemon would be a houndoom, Saxon, old battle veteran, retired now to herding and being a good boy. Very gentle, loves a pet.

Pari, now a fully fledged nurse, often oversees the labs front desk and pokecentre features, such as healing pokemon, and informing trainers who come to visit. Her skills with eggs and hatchlings is high, she’s great with younger Pokemon, and hands out good advice to trainers a lot. She’s not a fighter, never was, but can find any file, any study, any book, and any refrence you may need. A true bookworm, loves her romance novels, chat shows and upbeat celebrity gossip mags. Will cry at a lot of stuff, be it sad or happy.

She’s got a seriously upbeat personality, but if caught off guard or shocked, she gets a little flustered. Too much chaos will overwhelm her, but usually she’s on top of things. The years spent on the island have made her better at maintaining composure in emergencies. With lots of siblings, she’s very competent with others, and has a good ability to disarm cagey people with her jolly nature. Because of this, she can sometimes gain information from trainers that some of the more harsh professors may not have access to. Charming is a word for it.

Her partners are an eevee, and a happiny. They are quite sweet and well adjusted, the eevee gets a bit bouncy if you get it too excited.

[just-a-really-tall-girl-tbh]

Grounded

Summary: Y/n is kidnapped and forced to reveal secrets of the pack

Pairing: Derek X Reader

Warnings: Blood, torture, swearing

Word count: 2605

Original piece please don’t copy

The school bell rang for the final time that day, a collective sigh of gratitude echoed in the room, the teenagers grateful to be released from the maths teacher’s class. Gathering your books, you stacked them in a neat pile before exiting the room, offering a small smile to your defeated teacher. It wasn’t her fault maths sucked and no one enjoyed it, you did feel bad for her on some level but also who the hell would willingly dedicate their life to teaching numbers?

Entering the hallway, you made your way through the sea of teenagers, everyone desperate to go home for the weekend. Reaching your locker, you grabbed the couple books you needed, shoving them into your backpack, thinking about the homework you had due on Monday you sighed. The door to your locker slammed shut before you could close it.

“Hey, you ready?” Stiles smiled.

“I told you I can walk home.” You rolled your eyes, walking away from the boy. Surprised by your quick movement, Stiles jogged to catch up to you, throwing an arm lazily around your shoulders.

“I know you can walk home but why would you when you have me?”

Exiting the main doors of the high school, you welcomed the fresh warm air, the smell of angsty teens left behind you. Reaching the end of the pavement, you saw the jeep parked a few cars away.

“Stiles I want to walk.” You turned to face the boy.

“Y/n, you heard what Derek said okay? All these recent attacks? The break ins and thefts? He doesn’t want you alone.” Stiles tried to reason with you. Knowing the recent spike in criminal activity was less than likely to involve the supernatural, you felt safe walking the 20-minute trip home. In fact, you enjoyed the peace it brought you. Half of the walk was through the woods, a quiet haven from the busy high school, and being autumn, you relished in the yellow and orange leaves that swept through the small woodlands.

“Stiles. It’s 20 minutes. I’ll text you when I get home okay?” Stiles sighed.

“You know Derek is going to kill me if I let you, you know, that right? You like the idea of alive Stiles because I do! And I am not letting you be the reason I don’t make it to my 20’s okay?”

“Derek doesn’t have the balls to kill you.” You turned on the heel of your foot, headed towards the woods, leaving a defeated Stiles in your wake.

“I’m telling Derek you said he has no balls!” He called after you. You let out a small laugh, grabbing your headphones from your backpack, and your phone from your pocket, you scrolled through your playlist, deciding today was the perfect day for (Your current favourite song).

Entering the woods, you felt a rush of calm wash over you, the stressful week was pushed to the back of your mind, your thoughts centred on the surrounding woods. You stepped over exposed roots and around large bushes, glancing up at the sky you watched as the wind swept through the foliage, the ageing leaves dancing in the light breeze. The sun peaked through the cracks, determined to reach the forest floor, providing the perfect amount of light for your stroll. The floor of the woods had been coated in fallen leaves, leaving a blanket of red and orange below your feet. Taking a moment to stop and appreciate the tranquillity the forest provided you, you felt your phone buzz in you pocket.

Home yet? I’m this close to sending out a search party!

Rolling your eyes and shaking your head you began typing a response.

You need to…

Before you could finish you felt a knock to your head, your vision distorted, the soft sound of music playing through your headphones which were now next to you on the forest floor, was the only thing you could hear before everything went black.

***

Another blow straight to your stomach knocked the wind out of you. Coughing and spluttering you attempted to regain your breath, each inspiration hurting more than the last.

“Oh, you are so going to regret that.” You mumbled.

Leaning to the side of the chair you spat a mixture of saliva and blood to the ground, you couldn’t tell where the source of the blood was coming from, maybe your lip, or maybe the inside of your mouth. Too many lacerations to your face meant it all blended into one.

You raised your eyes to meet your rival, struggling to see through the blood you saw one man wiping his fists on an old rag, your blood coating his knuckles. He faced a woman to your left, who sat with one bent knee up on a bench. Her back leaning against the wall adjacent to you, a smug grin on her face.

You rotated your wrists which were bound behind you, the thick rope digging into your skin. Your ankles were bound too, tied to the legs of the wooden chair you sat on.

“You’re going to tell us what we want sweetie, its just a matter of how beat up that pretty face is going to be before you tell us.” The woman commented, as she played with her fingernails, pushing the cuticles back. If she was trying to look disinterested, she was doing a great job. But you were ready for this. You trained for this. You knew what was coming, and if it meant keeping your friends, the pack, safe, then you would gladly take whatever they threw at you.

The mans fist connected with your jaw once more, snapping you out of your daze. The room began to spin around you, and your vision blurred. Trying to recenter yourself you pulled at your wrists, the pain of the rope grinding into your skin giving you something to focus on.

“Alright careful there, big guy, we need her conscious if we’re going to get that information.” The woman stood from her seat, striding slowly over to you, before bending at the waist in front of you. She reached out to grab your face, but as soon as her fingers made contact with your skin you pulled away. A stern look, on your face made the woman let out a small laugh.

“You’re a tough one aren’t you.” She turned her head, almost admiring your battered body before her. “Too bad that doesn’t mean shit around here.” Grabbing your hair, she yanked your head back, exposing your neck to the room. Moving to stand behind you she held out her other hand, gesturing towards the man in front of you. Without a word exchanged, the man grabbed a knife from a nearby table, its blade glinting in the moonlight the small window above you allowed.

“Sweetheart, you have no idea who you are dealing with do you?” The woman whispered in your ear, her grip on your hair only tightening as she neared the knife to your throat. You felt the cold edge, lightly cross your neck, not enough to pierce the skin, but enough for you to avoid swallowing.

Taking a deep breath in you closed your eyes. Grounding yourself was apart of your training, something that was drilled into you from the beginning. Breathing in again, you picked up on the different smells the room produced, sweat from the man in front of you, poorly masked by his cheap cologne. The sweet smell of the woman’s hair from behind, her locks dangling beside your face. The overwhelming metallic smell of blood being the most potent. You changed your focus to your heartbeat. Feeling it pounding against your chest begging to be released you pictured your heart slowing, its contractions reducing with every breath you took. Steadying your breathing was next. Cautious of the blade still connected to your neck you breathed in through your nose, holding in for a few seconds before releasing softly through your mouth. Repeating those steps, you were able to regain some stability. You were still in the same crappy scenario but at least now you were calmer. A panicking person is an interrogators wet dream. A calm person, their nightmare.

Sensing your self-control increase, the woman let go of your hair, moving the knife from your neck to the table beside the man. Standing before you once more, she knelt in front of you, keeping one knee up for balance, she waited for your eyes to open once more. Regaining the control, you almost lost, you felt strong enough to open your eyes once more. Staring at you the woman barely moved, she was searching your eyes for something, her expression a mixture of shock and impressed.

“You’re not afraid.” Her words barely above a whisper. Your only response was a return glare. A small smile creeping on to the face of your kidnapper. “They trained you well.”

Standing, she turned to the man behind her, whispering something in his ear before turning back to face you, her arms crossed against her chest. The man dropped the rag he was still holding and left the room, the sound of the door locking behind him.

“Let’s cut the bullshit honey. You have information I need. And I know I’m not going to break you, not by torturing you anyways. So, let’s try something else, shall we?” The woman began to pace back and forth in front of you, the small room only allowing her a few steps before being forced to turn around again. Your eyes followed her, left and right, before she stopped in front of you once more, still facing forward.

Taking in a sharp breath, she spoke. “How’s your sister doing?” She turned to face you. Refusing to let her know she was finally making some progress with you, you remained staring at her. Resuming her pacing she continued speaking.

“She’s what 5 now? Gosh so young. But you know what they say right? They grow up so fast.” Your eyes tracked the woman, more intently than before. This woman knew your family. Something that was always off limits when the pack was involved. Your attempts at shielding them from the supernatural had been successful, keeping that part of your life private even from Derek. And here this woman stood, threatening them. Threating to take away your motivation to make the world safer. Unfazed by your lack of reaction the woman carried on.

“Soon enough she’ll be going to high school, making friends, maybe even realising who her sister really is.” She stopped before you once more, bending at the waist she placed her hands on the arms of the chair you were bound to. “You didn’t think you could protect them, forever did you?” Tears threatened to fall from your eyes. No amount of calm breathing could ground you now. “Aw babe.” Her hand raised to your cheek, ready to wipe away the falling tear. You only pulled away from her once more, hating the way her skin on yours felt. “Don’t tell me I hit a nerve, did I? Sucks doesn’t it. Well, there is one way of ensuring your little family stay naïve to the world around them.” She stood tall once more, her voice now deeper, more sinister than before. “Tell me what I want to know.”

You had no choice, right? She threatened your family, your sister. You protected them from so long, only for you to be the reason they are in danger. Looking down at your lap, tears hit your thighs unable to control them you simply let them fall. Taking a deep breath, you looked up at the woman before you, a smirk present on her face which made it so much harder to say what you were about to. But the images of your sister raced through your mind. The way her hair shone in the autumn sun, the way her smile reached her eyes when she was really, truly happy, the way she greeted you after school every day by running down the front path directly into your arms. That was the highlight of your day, finishing school and-

Wait

You never responded to Stiles.

You never texted him back, and the kidnappers were kind enough to bring your phone into the room with you – hoping to get some information.

Your eyes moved to the door behind the woman, a loud crash followed by a heavy grunt sounded from behind the entranceway. The woman whipped her head around, only to be met by silence. She slowly approached the doorway.

“Adrian…?”

Silence

The woman turned back to you, unsure of herself. You only had a small smirk as a response. Before she could question you, the door busted open, barely remaining on its hinges, a rush of dust filled the room. Watching ahead as the dust clouds engulfed the woman, you heard a deafening roar followed by a petrified scream. Small thuds followed, as the dust reached your eyes you began coughing, the sudden pain in your ribs swiftly returning.

Two hands were placed on your shoulders, looking up you were met by two green eyes.

“Hey, you okay?” A worried Derek scanned your face, concern riddled him as he saw the multiple cuts and bruising before him. You could only nod, the dust denying you the ability to speak.

Moving behind you, he effortlessly cut the ties that bound your hands, then your legs. Using the arms of the chair to stable yourself, you attempted to stand, wincing when the pain became too much. Derek moved to your side, wrapping your arm over his shoulder. Carefully placing his arm around you, resting his hand on your hip he accepted most of your weight, attempting to make standing and walking easier. As you took a few steps forward, the dust cleared from your eyes and you were able to regain focus. Looking forward you saw the woman who threatened you, her back against the same wall the door was, her skin now covered in blood, her chest still rising and falling rapidly. Scott stood before her, looking down at the defeated woman, his eyes still red and his claws still present.

Clearing your throat, you stopped walking, causing Derek to pause and look over to you. You peered down at the woman, no longer in a position of power, she looked smaller, more gaunt than before. Her eyes showed she was petrified, providing some comfort to you after what she did.

“Sucks doesn’t it?” a whisper of a smirk present on your lips.

Proceeding to step forward through the doorway you were met by a panting Stiles, his arms stretched out in front of him, you couldn’t tell him to stop before his body connected with yours. You inhaled sharply, grimacing as pain rang throughout your body.

Derek used his free hand to grab Stiles by the shoulder, pulling him away from you, a small growl forming in his chest.

“Oh, shit sorry of course you’re hurt shit sorry.” The boy stumbled over his words, his eyes finally taking in the battered sight before him. He moved to the side of you not occupied by Derek, his help was welcomed by you, suddenly feeling lightheaded from standing.

The three of you began walking forward towards the exit of the building.

“Is now a good time to tell Derek, you think he has no balls?” Stiles piped up earning a death glare from Derek. “No? Okay we can come back to that.” You used whatever energy you had left to shake your head.

[eureka-its-zico]

Irrevocably Yours

Request: hey! can i request a scenario of jungkook being a rich kid who has ome of his legs is leg failure , basically can't walk without a cane , And he falls in love with a normal girl , and they end up running away , happy ending plz , also if u can , LIT IT Up with smut ' thank u ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

A/N: So. This request was sent to me a long ass time ago. I mean a LONG time ago, and I spent so much time working on it...it became too long. So I broke it up in half. Just to see if anyone actually becomes interested in how this ends. Just to see if anyone still reads anything I write. So if you end up enjoying this, please let me know and I’ll post the last of this. I have so many things buried inside my google docs that need to be set free from hibernation. 

Also, I’m sorry if this isn’t any good. I’ve rewritten this a thousand times trying to fix it, and I’ve done all I can for now. I hope someone out there enjoyed this craziness. And to the original person who asked for this, if you ever see this, I’m sorry it took so long. P.s. I also took creative liberties and changed it up a little. Much love, Jenn

Jungkook x Reader

Word count: 13,756 (yeah I know, it was longer before I halved it. Sorry!)

Genre: fluffy/Smutty(later)/First Love drama sorts mess

A part of you would always remember the first day you’d met Jeon Jungkook. His presence standing in the doorway to the classroom held every single one of your classmate's attention along with yours. Jungkook silently demanded to be noticed, even though in a way he wanted no one to notice him at all. The classroom felt louder than usual, or maybe that was just how you recalled it. Maybe it's what caused the ringing in your ears when the room was swallowed up in silence. The sound of his cane hitting the stained linoleum; ticking like a time bomb with every step. 

At first you couldn't see why he necessarily needed it. Jungkook was a master of hiding things. Even pain. It wasn’t until he’d reached the teachers desk, his hip moving to rest against it to ease the extra strain off his good leg, that the stories of his accident became true.  Not one of you were willing to look too long at the challenge in his face. Defiance turning his soft features bitter as he glanced out across the room. Jungkook wanted to appear strong; to dare anyone to mutter even a word that he wasn’t. That he wasn’t the same person he was before the accident. 

He must have been able to fool your home room teacher into forgetting. His eagerness to introduce Jungkook only caused him to accidentally come too close to his legs in passing. The teachers’ waist moved and harmlessly bump against Jungkook’s bad leg. A small movement that was enough to change Jungkook’s entire demeanor for just a second. 

The whole room collectively took a breath; waiting for him to scream out in pain. To turn savage and yell or curse at the stupidity of the teacher. Jungkook did none of it. He continued to look out into the room with his chin held high. 

You could see, however, through the crinkle by his eyes and how heavily he now leaned on his cane that it’s caused him a great deal of pain. A brief moment in showing what he tried to hide and if you weren’t staring so hard at him, you were sure you would’ve missed it.

An infamous legend among other schools as his face showed up on Sports articles that featured proud features of parents beaming excitedly at cameras. Taekwondo and track metal’s around his neck by the dozens. Grades to match the intensity of his athletic drive with a rumor that if he tried something for the first time, Jungkook would still be phenomenal at whatever it was. 

Even without ever actually meeting him - everyone in that classroom knew who he was. Jeon Jungkook was a hard man not to hear about. 

In the beginning of the year there’d been a different headline for him, however. He’d been the passenger in a friend's car that was struck by a drunk driver. The ferocity of the impact leaving the car looking like a bow. Jungkook lost a friend that night, and part of the mobility in his left leg. The driver himself died instantly and you weren't sure if that was justice enough for the two boys who’d lost so much in a matter of three seconds. 

And with so much, yet so little known about him you found yourself unable to join the others in measuring up the boy in front of you. 

Jungkook was taller than you thought he would be, or maybe you’d silently been hoping the universe wouldn’t be so cruel to give someone talent and every single attractive feature known to man. He’d been played up like he was a god among the rest of you feeble mortals. You figure’d girls were overacting, I mean it happens. Imagining after listening to all their swooning, you’d somehow shockingly find out he was nothing more than your average - ordinary - boy. 

Jungkook was anything but ordinary. 

His lean frame still retained years of training that wasn't so easily hidden, even under the layers of the school uniform. You could see the care he still placed on his outward appearance. The rising star who was still handsome, even underneath all his brooding. His school uniform strained against tight muscles in his arms and, worse, was his legs. Your cheeks heating into an embarrassed blush as his eyes landed on what seemed like your desk. It was silly to think he’d caught you gawking. Everyone was gawking at him, but even a millisecond of his gaze made your cheeks light up with embarrassment at the idea of being caught. 

There was gossip of him not wanting to go back to his old school; his old life. You didn't really blame him. Why be stuck in a place where there were millions of memories of a time you had with a close friend? Of having the ability to walk down the halls without everyone looking at you like you were damaged goods. 

“Everyone pay attention!” Mr. Choi shouted. 

It all seemed unnecessary. Your attention was already on him whether he wanted it or not. 

“I’d like to welcome our transfer student, Jeon Jungkook. I expect you all to be on your best behavior.”

“I don't need you to defend me,” he snapped. 

He started moving his way down the aisle towards the only empty seat in the room: the one next to you. 

You quickly turned away from him and started cleaning up your space. Jungkook got to the desk faster than you thought and dropped his backpack down on top of the desk. His long body slumped down into the seat, placing his cane next to the window seal. 

“We’re going to continue with our previous lecture from yesterday. You can share with Y/N until you get your own books.”

You flipped to chapter eighteen with your many notes scattered inside. Your eyes giving him a sidelong glance before sliding the book neatly between the desks. Jungkook didn't bother to look at the pages: his gaze was locked elsewhere. Somewhere outside the window with the freedom far beyond the gates of the school. 

The enter class you’d spun a hundred different sentences in your mind. Each one playing out in your head as pure idiotic or unnecessary. You just couldn’t shake the feeling that it felt wrong letting him sit there like no one cares. To be a part of the prying gazes of the class; to know his name and him not knowing yours in return. You weren't sure why you gave a shit so much, anyways, but you did. 

At the sound of the bell he was the first one to hop back onto his feet. His hand instinctively taking hold of the cane to keep him propped up as he moved to situate his backpack over his shoulders. You’d followed close behind him and gathered up your things. 

You didn't see him again until fifth period. His brooding presence in the back of the class hung like a dark cloud you couldn't shake. You knew you weren't necessarily the most cheerful person in the room, but even Jungkook’s sour puss attitude was making you want to throw glitter at him. 

He didn't acknowledge you when you came to your usual seat at the window, and it didn't bother you. No one usually acknowledged you anyways. What did bother you was that he was sitting in your window seat. Statistics was by far your least favorite subject this year, and the one thing that kept you sane was that window seat.

“That's my spot.”

Your voice didn't hold any hint of malice. It was just definitive: you wanted your seat. Jungkook didn't look at you straight away. His eyes still daydreaming through the window and the world beyond. When he did finally look at you, you were sure the annoyance in his face was meant to send you packing. Too bad for him you’d seen worse. 

“Is that look supposed to scare me? It doesn't change the fact you're in my spot.”

“I don't see your name on it.”

Your laughter turned to a scoff; cut short by your disbelief. 

“What are we in middle school? If you want to get technical, it was assigned by the teacher aka my name is theoretically on that seat. So -” 

You acted like he was a pet you could shoo off your bed. The hand motion earning you his brow to raise in return. 

“You’d really make a cripple get up?”

“Is that what we’re calling you? A cripple? Because it looks to me like you’re still capable of doing things, oh say, a paraplegic can't.”

The anger rolled through him suddenly like storm clouds. All the possibilities of playful mischief disappeared as he regarded you with so much hate, it was as if he’d struck you. 

“Oh, really? I didn't realize that they were giving away M.D titles in high schools now.”

Your mouth opened to - to what? Apologize? The sensitive part of you told you that you should. His accident hadn't been a full year yet, and here you were badgering him. Yet, you knew if you continuously babied him like everyone else it was only going to do more harm than good. Your next choice of words were cut short when your teacher walked in and asked why you were still standing. 

“He’s in my spot.”

God, now who sounded like they were in middle school? Your teacher seemed to draw a blank. His gaze moving from you to Jungkook then back to you. 

“Just sit down, Y/N.”

You did so with a huff. Your arms pulling your backpack you’d sat down on the desk closer to you like a pillow. Just so you could rest your chin on top of it and tried to ignore the smirk that was now on Jungkook’s face. 

After you’d gone to your next class you couldn't stop thinking about your exchange. It  turned your mood sour the rest of the day, and you couldn't understand why. A part of you wondering if it was because of your choice of words or the defeat that shown all too bright in his doe eyes. 

The end of the day couldn't have come fast enough. You just wanted to get home and out of your uniform and maybe get a chance to go take some photos before your parents got home. You were too preoccupied with thoughts of where you wanted to go, and what coffee shop you wanted to stop at, when you collided into the back of someone else. A loud curse followed suit of the sound of a cane dropping on pavement making your eyes shut tight and your throat constrict around a groan. 

“Jesus, can't you watch where you’re goi- oh, it's you. Enjoy attacking cripples, do we?”

You opened your eyes to see a less than amused smile on his face. He acted more like a judge at your hearing and whatever sentencing he was giving out, it wasn’t in your favor. 

“I’m sorry I wasn't paying attention.”

You moved to pick up his cane for him when his hand angrily swatted yours away making you jump back a step. 

“I don't need your charity. I can do it myself!”

“No one said you couldn’t! I was only trying to be nice.”

“Yeah, well, go and be nice somewhere else.”

He situated his weight on his good leg and bent at the knee low enough for his hand to reach out and grab his second form of support. The movement so graceful that it left you stunned, but not as much as his words did. 

“You know, just because something bad happened to you, it doesn't give you the right to be an asshole. You aren't the only person to lose someone or something important. Get over yourself.”

With your hands latched underneath the straps of your backpack you stomped around him. Not caring that you left him standing stone still. His mouth slightly agape as he watched you take your exit. 

During your walk home, somehow, Jungkook plagued your thoughts. Your mind unable to comprehend why you were still thinking about him. It was the first time you’d met, and yet, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. If you were being honest with yourself you knew from replaying the last thing you said to him.The look on his face saying plainly that you were an asshole.

Everyone’s pain mattered. Grief and loss wasn’t measured by anyone else’s pain but the person who experienced it, and to diminish it in any way was unfair. Regret was building inside your chest and it was all you could do to keep your feet from sprinting back in his direction. 

When you got home you went directly to your room, throwing your bag on the bed, and sulked to your desk. You had more pressing matters to attend to than a boys’ possible hurt feelings. No matter how many times you tried, however, you weren’t able to write out theories on government history or explain anatomical questions.

The only thing your brain appeared to focus on was how to apologize. 

You thought about Jungkook while you showered and brushed your teeth. You thought of him when you laid in bed and struggled to find a way to sleep. Your mind playing out the million different possibilities of how your apology would be taken from him. You didn't necessarily understand what it felt like to have your dreams stolen from you. To be forced to cope with a new life you hadn’t asked for and the emptiness of losing someone you loved all in one go. 

If the tables were turned and it was you, wouldn’t you feel equally as bitter? 

The following morning in between toaster cooked waffles and fixing your uniform in the mirror, you’d resigned to apologizing to him. No matter how much thinking of it made your teeth grind and a growl rise in your chest at the thought. You imagined him sneering and replying with smart remarks and it caused your mind to waver, but you were better than the pettiness swelling in your chest. You were okay with knowing his prickled exterior came from something you couldn't ever understand. 

You made sure all the time you had while you walked to school was used up by mumbling the speech you’d made up the night before. At crosswalks practicing the best stance that didn't appear threatening, was friendly, but wouldn't be misconstrued as flirting. 

That was by far the last thing you wanted to happen in his eyes. Sure, Jungkook was undeniably attractive...as much as you would've loved to laugh sarcastically in his perfectly sculpted face that his obviously very masculine features did nothing to make you weak in the knees. That you hadn’t noticed when his elbows, still clad in his jacket, moved to rest on the desk it’d caused his biceps and shoulders to equally fight for whatever was left of the fabric. Or that small scar on his cheek caught your attention when he became annoyed; his tongue poking out at the side of his jaw. 

No, you hadn't been paying an embarrassing amount of attention to him at all (or at the ridiculous outline of his thigh muscles in his school uniform)  with every step he took. 

So, since you hadn't personally taken notice of any of physically appealing traits, why would you flirt? You were well aware of the vast difference of not only your social scale, but also of your class ranking, and looks overall. You were lightyears away from ever being able to consider being more than a female acquaintance he happened to get stuck next to at school. He wasn't the first boy who was out of your league, and Jungkook wouldn't be the last. Why it bothered you so much was a child's thought you refused to entertain. 

When you finally got to school you hurried up the steps and briskly made your way down the hall. Not stopping even after Jenny cursed after you for nudging her as you went by. As soon as you swung open the door for homeroom, your eyes landed on Jungkook’s position. His cane leaning against the desk, hands tucked inside the pockets of his uniform slacks as he leaned back against the chair. 

His gaze was focused somewhere outside the window, completely blank and motionless, and you wondered if he could've been having a thought at all. He was close to being marked as unreal in your book when he blinked and turned his gaze towards you.

You hadn't realized you’d been staring until that moment. Your gaze dropping to the worn linoleum as you briskly made your way down to your desk. A mumbled, “Good morning,” falling like a bad habit from your lips while you came around the side to slid into the desk chair. Nervous hands clutching tightly to your bag as you stared straight ahead, unwilling to glance in his direction. 

Somewhere between cursing your awkwardness and staring out the window like an escape hatch your teacher started the lecture. None of it to which you were paying attention too, which was probably why you heard him call your name. You jerked in your seat as he yelled it a second time. Your eyes no doubt wide from giggles that sounded around the room. 

“Y/N, since you're listening, you can go ahead and answer number forty-seven in the workbook.”

Panic sent your eyes wide as you stared back at his expectant face: waiting for you to fail. You hadn't even taken your book out since you’d sat down, finally moving to do so, when you felt a light tap against your bag. It was enough to jerk your gaze away from the teacher and down to a completed book of all the problems done by Jungkook. 

He cleared his throat and tucked his hands back inside the pockets of his trousers easily not understanding the severity of how his actions had left you wide-eyed in surprise. You were still taking too long, causing your teacher to prompt you with a grunt and Jungkook to casually reach out and tap the answer again. Your eyes trailing over the written answer before standing up and clearing your throat. The answer rolling off your tongue as easy as breathing; as if you didn't just steal it from a notebook. 

You made a silent prayer the teacher didn't notice the sweat threatening to break at your temple. The nervous ticking of your feet tilting from spot to spot. A rush of relief escaping your lips when his response to your answer was to continue class. 

You took your seat next to Jungkook; unable to acknowledge him just yet for saving you from whatever punishment your teacher would've no doubt thought of. The realization that Jungkook himself was the reason for your lack of concentration making your cheeks flush an embarrassing pink making your arms wrap protectively around your backpack. 

You’d never even brought out your textbook. Never dropped your bag from your desk and no doubt Mr. Choi knew you were given the answer. You buried your mouth against the coarse nylon in a weak attempt to stifle your embarrassment. 

“Thank you.”

Your eyes caught the soft tilt of his brow as it rose at the muffled words. You could make out his left shoulder leaning him down towards your huddled position, making your hands involuntarily tighten into your backpack. 

“What was that?”

The husky whisper of his words weren't anything you’d heard before, and they resonated up your spine to leave you staring starry-eyed.

“Th-thank you. For giving me the answer.”

He didn't respond. His gaze fixed solely on your face until you forcibly struggled to keep from fidgeting under its weight. After what felt like a small eternity, Jungkook nodded his head and faced forward. The sudden ghost of the death of your conversation causing you to blink at his profile. 

The rest of the class was spent with your focus lacking on taking notes. How could you focus with his presence commanding your attention? A small army of ants creeping along your nerves demanding to acknowledge him. It was so strong, when the bell rang you jumped up from your seat to try and escape into the freedom of the school’s hallway, only to end up with your knee connecting straight into the hardwood of the desk. Jungkook’s snort at your misfortune was enough to remind you how much of an arrogant pain in the ass he could be. 

“Wow - good job doofus.”

Your head snapped back in his direction; tongue rolling in your cheek as he hopped up from his seat. A hand snaking out to grab his bag and sling it over his shoulder as the other reached for his cane. You held your head high despite how awful your knee was stinging, and stood up adjusting your bag. 

“Seriously? That's all you've got? Doofus? Next time let’s try harder.”

Jungkook didn't seemed miffed by your retort, actually seeming more amused than anything, and for some reason it only bugged you more. Did you really want to get into another argument like you were in primary school with him? You discarded the thought as you tightened the strings on your backpack and decided to take the mature route and leave him behind. 

The hallways mass of bodies rushing to get to their next period giving you comfort; until you remembered you shared the same economics class. Today was also a field trip to a farm to learn the process of making soy products. It would take up the last few classes of the day. You’d been excited to spend the day out of class and enjoy the rustic scenery out of town. Your only hope was that he hadn't been able to get his parental slip signed; he’d just started the day before. How could he?

When the teacher walked in and asked Jungkook for his permission slip you wanted to howl. Why was the universe so cruel? But why did you care so much? 

It was a question you didn't bother to think about; you just grumbled the whole way to the bus. Your teacher standing at its entrance to put a check by your names every time one of your classmates passed him by like lined up cattle. You were the last checkmark: the last person to find an available seat. You rounded the final step and your stomach sank down into your shoes. The universe seeming to play a sick joke of musical chairs; your only options being Jungkook or Amber, the girl who actively struggled to make sure your life was a living hell. 

You’d rather be eaten by dogs than even attempt to sit with her. Jungkook it was, then.

Your hand clasped tighter around the strap of your bag as you moved it farther up your shoulder. A large sigh accommodating your steps as you side-stepped down the aisle ending with you in front of his seat. His cane taking up what was left of it. 

Jungkook didn't seem to register your presence or he just decided to pretend you weren't there. Either way you felt your annoyance grow as you cleared your throat to grab his attention. His chin barely leaving the perch of his fist as his head turned; gaze intimidating in a way that left your fingers pinching the fabric of yours clothes just to make sure they were still there and he hadn't stared straight through them. 

“Can I help you?”

“I need a seat.”

He looked back and no doubt noticed the open spot next to Amber. Jungkook’s giving the slightest nod as he retorted, “There’s one right back there.”

“Come on, Jungkook. What do you want?”

“You're bribing me now?” 

His smile was so bright, borderline adorable, and you hated how it threatened to make you retaliate with your own. 

“Stop being a brat and just tell me,” you snapped instead. 

Jungkook shot a quick glance back at Amber’s giggling figure. You were sure most people thought she sounded like wind chimes or something else cute and feminine, but to you it just sounded like a cat dying. When he looked back at you, Jungkook checked you out one last time. His eyes stopping at the lone earbud that sat against your chest. For a moment, you thought he was actually staring at your breasts making your cheeks burn and your gaze to look anywhere else but at his smug face. 

“Let me listen to your iPod there and back on this trip, and I'll let you sit with me.”

“What am I supposed to do?”  

Jungkook did a lavish hand sweep at the window. The motion reminding you of the showgirls on The Price is Right, making you believe maybe he’d somehow watched it, and one too many times. 

“You get to use your imagination while you look out the window.”

“No way. Joint custody.”

“Fine. Joint custody, but I get to pick the music the whole way. If you have shitty taste the deal's off.”

He stuck out his hand for you to shake and there was a moment, a minor second, that it felt like you were making a deal with the devil. However, the sound of Amber’s laughter practically had your hand bolting into Jungkook’s. You shook it harder than was necessary before dropping it and shooing him to move. 

Jungkook removed his bag and cane from the seat. Your legs giving out moments later so you could plop down in it, only to be greeted by his outstretched hand. The smile that spread across his lips shining brighter than the mischief in his eyes. 

“As per our agreement: the iPod.”

He wiggles his fingers and you wanted to smack him. Your own squeezing tighter against the metal until, reluctantly, you chose your fate by placing it into his hand. Jungkook didn’t seem to mind your current look of displeasure while you watched him begin to scroll through your assorted music collection. 

At least the seat was warm. 

The first few seconds were somehow more awkward than you thought possible. Eyes locked in a fifty-yard stare so intense a soldier would’ve been envious. The only movement you caught of him was from your peripherals. Jungkook’s thumbs picking up speed from the leisurely way he scanned through the artists you’d offered. And no you did not, whatsoever, happen to notice the way his bottom lip would dart inside his mouth just to be held gently between his teeth. All the while his eyes focused on the task in front of him.

Nope. You weren’t paying attention to him. Not even a little bit. So how he was able to make you jump twelve inches out of your skin, while you were most definitely not embarrassing yourself by gawking over a beautiful man, was beyond you.

“Ya!” Jungkook clicked his tongue in distaste. His hand wiggling the ipod in your direction, as if it had caused some great offense. “What is this?”

Your neck tiled as you regarded him like he’d grown two heads. You were also positive if your eyebrows knitted together any harder you’d end up with a unibrow. 

“Ugh, a mystical device that plays music.”

The look on Jungkook’s face faltered from frustration to annoyance. It was so sudden it ended up sending a bark of laughter in his direction. And just like that, the annoyed look was back again. 

“I mean, what the hell do you have on this thing. Who is The Dead Weather? City and Colour? Joji?”

“They are artists I enjoy.”

“They’re shit.”

You rushed to try and snatch it back from him. Jungkook’s reflexes proving to be faster than your growing urge to smack him.

“Excuse me, little miss,” he began. “What do you think you’re doing?”

He used his index finger to push gently against your forehead, but with the current level of irritation, he still proved faster than you. Your failed attempt to swat his hand away meeting only empty air. Earning you a smirk of smug satisfaction. 

“I’m trying to get my things back.”

“That wasn’t part of our agreement.”

You tried one last time to take him by surprise. Your right hand shot out too hard to grab at the object clasped in his large hands. The momentum carried you forward to land shoulder first against his chest. Leg nudging against his with enough force that it caused his cane to move an inch. It took everything you had to keep your head down to hide your flaming cheeks. 

“And now you’re assaulting me.”

If your eyes were capable of rolling back any father you might've seen brain cells.

“I was only trying to get my property back. Since the only thing that’s coming out of you is complaining.”

“I’m not complaining,” he snapped. “You’re acting like an Indian giver.”

“Is that all you know how to do: complain?” You continued, completely ignoring him. A slight smirk now etching your lips. Jungkook’s eyes flicking down to notice your amusement at his expense. “I believe they call it, ‘trying something new.’” 

His eyes narrowed on you and for a split second your pulse began to race. Sure, the agitation on his face at your teasing was obvious, but you could’ve sworn...maybe...just maybe he was smirking. Could you have possibly been able to make him smile? 

“I should make you go sit with Amber.”

The smugness in his voice and the cocky smile that joined it instantly made whatever fun you were having come to a complete halt. Jungkook was so pleased with himself he had the audacity to shimmy his shoulders like he’d already won. The rolls had reversed. It was your eyes turn to throw daggers in his direction. 

“Now who's the Indian giver.”

Even though he played up on what he felt like was a win, you could tell he was not as amused. His non-injured leg bounced to an incredible rhythm that he could only hear. Probably a furious count to a hundred to keep himself from saying anything else to continue your usual thrilling conversations. So when he handed over one earbud, and the iPod, but placed the other into his ear, it was fair to say it left you baffled. 

You were waiting so long for him to give an explanation, but all he did was continue to stare at you. It was starting to make your pulse race again. Why did he constantly have to feel so intense? Everything about him. Not even his current state made him seem any less notable. It just didn’t seem fair. 

It wasn’t until he cleared his throat did you realize you’d been staring. For god knows how damn long. 

“You gonna play something or not?” he asked. 

His hand motioned towards the music while his fingers adjusted the earbud he’d kept. 

“I’m so confused.”

“You look it,” he retorted, causing your earlier thoughts to remember, although handsome, he was an incredible pain in the ass. 

“Ten seconds ago you complained about my music. Now you want me to play it for you.”

Jungkook turned his gaze away, his body relaxing back against the hard foam of the seat. His eyes still cast outside the window as if he was trying to find some way to escape. 

“Either I can spend the next couple hours listening to you talk, or “try” out some new music. If I have a choice, I’ll pick the music please and thank you.”

Oh, how you wish you could’ve shoved him out that tiny window. But as much as you hated to admit it, Jungkook was right. Music was the only reasonable escape from possibly having either of you commit murder. 

It was your turn to try and get comfortable. This time your thumb scanning down the list of artists until your eyes caught sight of one he’d mentioned. Without giving him warning you pressed play. The haunting melody of Joji’s “Dancing in the Dark,” flooded the earbuds. His voice melancholic as he began to sing a sad tale of not wanting to be the hidden second option. 

The song choice was enough to finally get Jungkook to look back at you. Somehow already having enough with the song choice before it’d barely even reached the chorus. 

“Just listen.”

It was the only advice you could give him, and hopefully the reassurance you’d tried to ease into your tone was enough. Whether it was or not, by the time the chorus began he seemingly relaxed again into the seat. His arms moving to cross lazily against his chest. He seemed to actually be taking in the song while he watched out the window. The passing of the steel and concrete that was Seoul into the rural areas of green and forest. 

The music itself was calming. It was enough to let yourself fully relax back against it and close your eyes. With your eyes closed you could easily fade out the sounds of the sporadic conversations on the bus. Even though you only had one ear bud, all you needed was to concentrate on the music to drown out the world. 

It took a few seconds for you to be pulled into a Joji’s song about terrible longing and being left behind by a lover. I mean, you didn’t really know too much about the latter, but hey, a girl could daydream. His voice was seconds away from heading into the second verse of the chorus, when you heard the sound of the melody being lightly sung beside you. 

The voice was beautiful. The most startling part, not the fact of its softness, or the way it swelled in perfect harmony with the song, was that it came from Jungkook. Your eyes flung open with your head snapping to gaze at his serene expression. He continued to face the window, daylight playing along the profile of his face, and his gentle voice singing perfectly in tune. 

It wasn’t loud enough that anyone else could’ve heard it over the dozens of bursting conversations being spoken throughout the bus. That the only conclusion you could come up with to why he would be singing at all. He thought no one would be able to pay attention. You probably would’ve stayed gawking at him if his eyes fluttering open didn’t send you crashing back against the seat and clutching your eyes shut. You needed to pretend you hadn’t noticed. Or else he would stop. He would hide this part of himself that showed he was more than what he tried to portray. 

You didn’t have to open your eyes to know he was glancing in your direction. To see his eyes gaze over you with suspicion before settling back and listening to the next track. Khalid’s intro of “Talk,” beginning to play into your earbud. 

You spent the rest of the trip staying beside him, close as you could get without looking creepy, just to hear him gently sing. He breathed a gentle version of each one he knew, or came to like, and made it his own. Even being a few times were his nerves got the better of him. His voice rising ever slightly when he drew too deep into the song. He would quiet after each outburst, but to your pleasure Jungkook would start back up moments later. 

After all the bickering, you could definitely say the trade was worth it. You were so taken with listening to him that when the bus came to a stop, you didn’t realize it until your earbud was yanked from your ears. Your eyes heavy from sleep fluttered open and closed a few times before they focused on Jungkook’s face. 

“Ya, didn’t you hear them call us off the bus?”

Your response came in the form of slow blinks and a mouth half-hung open. You wished more for a nap than going out to explore a farm, but your limbs were screaming to be stretched. You went to answer him when, instead, Jungkook grabbed his bag, cane, and started to try and scoot over you.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?”

“Trying to get by! So excuse me!”

His backside rubbed against your arms and, to your horror, your chest. Without thinking, your hand lashed out to smack across his bottom causing both of you to go as still as the dead. Your heart was thundering as you looked at your hand like it’d just finished committing murder. Maybe it had. But the only person it’d murdered was you with your eyes roaming up to see a shocked Jungkook gawking down at you over his shoulder. 

“Did you really just smack my ass.”

“It was an accident!”

“An accident?” He questioned.

“Self-defense!”

Jungkook tried to hide the amusement your no doubt panicking was causing him. His mouth struggling to keep the frown that was tilting ever so slightly at the top of his lips. 

“If anything needed to be defended, it was my honor. Over here just smacking people’s ass’s without a warning.”

You knew by now your face looked like a fire hydrant. 

“Self-defense from you dragging your ass all over me! I’m not a seat, ya know.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

This time Jungkook didn’t try to hide his smile. To your surprise, it wasn’t a malicious one that showed he enjoyed your embarrassment. No. This one decorated his face in something softer that made your heart thunder to a different rhythm entirely. 

“Oh, look you guys. Shit Stain and The Cripple are flirting.”

Amber’s grating voice was one you’d grown painstakingly accustomed too. The sinister way she spoke impossibly loud just so everyone was forced to hear her. Whether they wanted to or not. You were used to her coldness and the constant way she harassed you. What you weren’t so used to, was having Jungkook as part of the punchline. 

Immediately, you felt his legs tense where they touched you. The muscles ramrod straight and flexing under the skin. The lighthearted tone you’d heard seconds before in your banter was now replaced with an aloofness that made you stiffen in your seat. Jungkook’s jaw held tight as he regarded Amber as if she were no more than a pest buzzing at his ear.

“Ya, fix your nose before you bother talking to me. I can see half the planet up there.”

Amber’s eyes flashed hellfire as she glowered over her shoulders to stop the giggling that ensued. When all grew quiet enough to where she felt like she would be heard, a harsh smile spread her lips. Her legs began to take a step to move away from the two peasants who’d held enough of her attention. 

“Whatever, Cripple. Try not to get your stick in any holes.”

She was passing the front of your shared seat when, suddenly, Amber’s legs gave way. A tumbling mess of shrieks, bleached hair, and her arms flapping rapidly a solid indication of her mysterious attempt at taking flight. The only thing that moved to catch her was her face. The minute the laughter began to bubble up inside you, you quickly placed a hand over your mouth. Least the she-devil hear it escape. 

You took a second to inspect what could’ve possibly taken down the ice queen. Even when she wore ridiculously high heels, Amber walked with a grace you knew you’d never pull off. Not without looking like a newborn giraffe, that is. Glancing down you noticed Jungkook’s cane strategically placed right where her foot would’ve landed. The culprit in making Amber a freshly minted carpet on the bus’s floor. Somewhere on the bus you knew she was up from her tumble and huffing a few choice words. You were sure she knew, just like you did, that Jungkook was the one who’d done it. You paid no attention to her tantrum and kept a transfixed gaze on him. 

He’d finished scooting the rest of the way to get to the middle of the bus and was situating his cane and shoulder bag. His hand suddenly reaching down into view and patiently waiting for you to take it. 

“Come on, Y/N. Let’s go.”

You knew you looked like a fool. Your eyes mirroring the thousands of silent questions that threatened to make you ill. A part of you hoping he understood your dumbfounded look simply begged him to find some way to answer you. You’d stared starry-eyed up at him for so long you half expected the patience of Jungkook’s open hand to fall flat. Instead, he continued to surprise you. His gaze gentle, and hand openly waiting for you to take it when you were ready. 

With eyes wide and mouth agape, your body rejected your stunned silence and placed a small hand in his. His own quickly enveloped yours perfectly and gave you the added support you needed to find stable footing beside him. Jungkook finally looked away from you to stare at the remaining goons. 

The moment you stood beside him you became painfully aware of the noticeable height difference. Your gaze moving up inch-by-inch until your eyes were locked onto his face. The stubbornness of a hard set jaw and eyes that dared anyone to speak enough to make your heartbeat pick up in your chest. When he appeared to be finished making sure his presence was known, Jungkook’s eyes turned back to you. A silent request of reassurance to know you were alright making you answer with a quick nod. 

Your cheeks blushed furiously as you struggled to look away from his gaze. No longer were you so worried about Amber; your mind trapped on a repeat of questions. Did Jungkook always smell like Calvin Klein cologne? Could it be considered weird how you felt undeniable comfort pressed up against him? Or really weird if in your head you suddenly imagined recreating this scene a million times later with you being braver beside him, instead of being the damsel in distress.

He didn’t seem at all perplexed with your case of sudden shyness. His strong legs pulling you both forward and past the horde of Amber and her lackeys without missing a step. His head held high while the other hand helped him keep his balance without using his cane. For the small world that was high school, Jungkook showed them he was still that once popular boy who was known for not taking shit from no one. A demi-god amongst mere mortals that were somehow honored by his presence. 

And here you were. So close to the orbit of his sun and walking away unscathed.

Your train of rushing thoughts kept you from paying attention. It was something you soon were going to regret when he led you off the steps of the bus and onto the dirt road. Jungkook’s exit was obviously graceful while yours in comparison was a train wreck. Instead of your feet stepping off the last step and landing like a normal person, you lost your footing. Your clumsy feet sending you struggling to find a balance with the earth before you crash landed on the floor. Luckily, Jungkook’s back was there to catch you. 

The momentum of your fall sent his feet skittering to correct you both before you fell into the dirt. A few choice cuss words leaving his lips and crimson flaring up on your cheeks to make the dance of falling even more entertaining. You could practically hear the cackling of the witches echoing out of the bus like a cave. 

Jungkook made quick work of righting you both; his good leg furiously hoping to support the weak one. His cane dug into the earth a good inch to add some more stabilization. You let go of his hand and moved away from his side where you’d previously been planted. You weren’t worthy of being there. This boy who saw your distress and helped you. Only for you to ruin it in the process. 

“Well that’s one way to ruin an exit,” he huffed. 

He glanced in your direction and you could’ve sworn he was smiling. Or was that a smirk? Whatever it was, it was quickly washed away as his eyes took you in. “You okay?”

“I’m sorry!”

Your words rushed from your lips with your back snapping to bow a perfect ninety-degrees. Your hair a curtain to try and hide your embarrassment. 

“Ugh...for what?”

“For bumping into you like that. I should’ve been paying attention.”

A soft laugh bounced from between his lips and you were willing to beat his face lit up like pure sunshine. You moved to stand upright just in time to see you were right. Jungkook was either oblivious to the way you were looking at him, or was simply unfazed. His shoulder hiking the backpack where it’d begun to fall as he adjusted himself to get ready to move to join the rest of the class up ahead. 

“You did ruin one hell of a stylish exit.”

“I don’t know how stylish you can be stepping off of a school bus, but...thank you.” 

The both of you locked eyes with one another. A large part of you hoped Jungkook was able to see the sincerity or at least hear it. Maybe he wasn’t that much of a pain in the ass after all. That soft smirk you’d grown accustomed to etched back on his lips as he took the first step towards your waiting classmates.

“No problem. Plus, I figured I owed you for letting me listen to your music.”

You felt your brow shoot up in mock surprise. Your legs falling into step beside him. 

“I thought you said I had terrible taste.”

“I never said terrible,” Jungkook corrected. His eyes danced with a playfulness that lifted a smile to your lips

“You could’ve fooled me.”

“Well, it wasn’t the greatest, but thank you. I actually ended up liking most of it, at least.”

“Oh, what a sweet way of insulting my musical taste.”

“Hey! I said I liked most of it. It’s like a win-win. Kinda.”

You wanted to be snappy. Give him some more hell for always playing up on being a condescending moody jerk. In reality, walking next to Jungkook while the silence swelled around you without the awkward pressure; you knew that wasn’t all of him. He’d proven how sweet he could be at the memory of how easily you’d felt protected by a simple stretch of a hand. The look in his eyes while he waited for you to take his extended hand a plea to know you could trust him. Strangely, a part of you already felt like you could. 

You snuck a look over in Jungkook’s direction, and felt a smile begin to sweep up the corners of your lips. It was a different, but nice, change to have someone come to your defense. Yeah, most of the time you wanted to throttle him for seeming like he could care less. In that moment, however, he cared enough to help. That had to mean something.

“You’re welcome.”

You hoped your words conveyed the gratitude you felt in that moment. Prayed that Jungkook could hear it. When he looked at you, you made sure to give him a quick smile before you looked away. Your eyes struggled not to look back at him; to tell him all the things that were racing through your head. It took every ounce of your will to stay focused on the group of classmates that were growing closer. Somewhere along the way, you’d hoped Jungkook would’ve replied with his usual smart ass remarks. It worried you how sad a small part of you felt at his silence. 

Now, you worried maybe you were going a little nuts.

Instead, you came to the edge of the group in silence. Your ears struggling to grasp on to the middle of what your teacher gave out for instructions for the day. 

So what if that insane part of you didn’t receive a smart ass remark in return for your gratitude. You were more than happy with the fact Jungkook stayed by your side. The close proximity just enough to convey what you were both feeling without unnecessary words.

______________

For the past hour the farmer -Kim Sejung - had shown the class around his vast property. The beginning of this magical tour starting with where he manufactured the tofu once it was fermented then sent down to be processed for packaging. He was a man who took immense pride in his work. The next room where the fermentation took place and, his overeager explanation, spelled out how devoted he was to his craft. 

The whole entire backwards presentation was something your teacher decided became a chance for everyone to write down everything you’d been shown. A punishment you knew was coming when Kim Sejung lost half the class to their own conversations long before you’d hit the second part of his speech. 

Now, anyone could be wondering why all of you were taking the longest stroll of your life out in the middle of the farm. A fair question you’d been asking yourself since you realized your shoes were completely covered in mud. You’d been trying to understand why this hadn’t been the first place Kim Sejung would’ve taken all of you. Your only guess being he just enjoyed showing the process backwards. Or maybe he was secretly a  mastermind at torture. It was the only logical conclusion you could come up with at having the entire class now out in the muddy acres of his farm.

And sure, maybe your attention was being sent over your shoulder every five seconds. A certain boy with exhaustion creased in his brow making it harder for you to ignore. You were looking back so often you felt like you’d end up with whiplash at any minute. Really, it was all Jungkook’ fault for causing you to worry; becoming painfully aware with each glance at Jungkook’s struggling frame. 

How Sejung -, or anyone else for that matter, hadn’t noticed he was falling further behind the group with every step left you completely perplexed. You’d gave up listening to whatever the farmer or teacher talked about or what questions they were throwing around. You could bet it had to do about soil. 

If everyone else could ignore him why couldn’t you? It’s not that you hadn’t tried, cause of course you’d done exactly that. Your bottom lip now held a semi-permanent indent from your teeth. Whenever you felt that tick in your neck to look back to check on him: you bit down. When you felt like drawing attention to him by saying something: you bit down. A part of you willing to bet Jungkook would never forgive you if you did. 

Your solution? It was ingenious, really. 

You fell back behind every classmate. Patiently, you waited for everyone to pass you up. Your feet dragging in the muddy dirt until you were sure no one would notice when you inevitably stopped. 

With a soft count of three under your breath, you came to a halt at the back of the group. Your small count continued for another round before you were comfortable with the distance it’d placed between the group, Jungkook, and yourself.

You let out a huff of satisfaction as you turned around to give Jungkook your complete attention. Your neck thanking you for the small favor. What you found, however, greeting you was far from what you’d hoped to find. 

Jungkook’s current location became a solid five feet behind the group. His feet finally coming to the large puddle of mud that you and the class had easily maneuvered Jungkook had not. His struggle coming to a standstill at the muddy puddles edge. Jungkook’s face etched itself in harsh determination to no doubt allow him from moving forward. You told yourself you would stay back and wait for him. 

Just wait, You kept telling yourself over and over. A broken record having nothing on what you felt capable of standing there. Your pulse bonding in your veins and feet bouncing with anxiety as he assessed his options. All you were supposed to do was hang back to walk with him. That was it. You weren’t his nanny. You knew how he felt about being pitied, and yet, when he took his first tentative step out into the mud and his cane sunk deep and his bad leg followed suit, your feet deceived you. 

It appeared Mother Nature had her own way of pushing you past your reserved good intentions. Your feet sprinted forward fast enough that you were embarrassed at their quickness. The expected movement bringing Jungkook’s frustrated gaze up from his current dilemma to you.

“What are you doing here, Y/N?”

The annoyance held in his question didn’t go unnoticed by you. If it was you in his position, you’d be annoyed seeing you standing there too and not offering to help. 

“I came to help you.”

The words just streamed out with your running thoughts. Your feet willing to move forward back into the mud to help him. Jungkook noticeably began to struggle to remove his foot that submerged quickly underneath. 

“I didn’t ask for your help.”

“You didn’t have too, Jungkook. I want to help.”

“Let me rephrase myself.” His irritation was pure fire in his eyes as his words hurled in your direction. “I didn’t ask for it and I don’t want it.”

You wish you could say you handled his dismissal with grace. That you understood he was only being a jerk because he was embarrassed and angry at his current predicament. You really wanted to be that bigger person. Well...that most definitely wasn’t what happened. 

Your eyes narrowed in on him. Your previous desire to help evaporated as you watched his leg sink deeper. His other foot soon joined the first in a poorly calculated attempt to release the other. Your arms crossed over your chest as you took in the scene before you. 

“Well, Jungkook, I’m not sure if you noticed but you’re slowly heading towards being buried under that mud.”

“Thank you for that astute observation. Anything else you’d like to add?”

“Why are you being such an asshole?!” you snapped.

Your arms came loose down at your side and turned to clenched fists. You weren’t exactly sure what you expected his reaction to be. You knew Jungkook held a hatred for being pitied. Hell, you would too if it was the other way around. You knew he wasn’t helpless, but you also knew he couldn’t do everything alone. No one could. So what was so wrong with offering to help him?

You weren’t sure how you looked. Maybe crazy? Or did the desperation of not knowing how to handle the situation have you appear sad? Whatever it was Jungkook saw, it was enough to look away. His eyes dropping down to his covered feet. 

The space between the two of you swelled with tension. His hair perfectly covering his face, and kept you from being able to steal any glance. It was enough to make you unsure if you should prepare yourself for a verbal battle with him or if you should simply walk away. What if you’d made a mistake thinking Jungkook would want to be bothered at all with help. Especially from you. 

“God, this is embarrassing.”

His words were so light you weren’t sure at first if he’d spoken. A part of you wondering if you’d made up the sound of his voice as Jungkook’s face continued to be hidden by layers of hair. But, lord help you, you knew you weren’t imagining things. The sound of his voice is something you’d come to recognize with ease. You knew without a doubt it most definitely was him. And the sadness that reverberated from his words made your anger dissipate instantly. 

“What?”

Could you have picked a stupider response? When Jungkook lifted his head up to look at you, you knew he silently agreed.

“It’s embarrassing!” His hands motioned to take in his current predicament. The hurt shown on his proud features made your heart ache to comfort him. “How pitiful can I get? It’s so damn frustrating! The cripple unable to get himself out of some stupid mud.”

“Jungkook, you are literally the least pitiful person I’ve ever met.”

“And yet, it doesn’t make me any less stuck.”

You took a step forward and began to try and edge around what you could of the puddle. You knew there was no way you weren’t getting more mud on your shoes, but the purpose was worth it. 

“Why didn’t you just go around it?” Your question earned you a dead stare. One that reminded you of your mother when she felt like you’d asked the silliest question. You held your hands up in surrender and said, “Hey. It’s a fair question.”

“If I just go around it, it proves that I can’t do the simplest thing, Y/N. It proves…”

“That you aren’t like everybody else,” you finished for him.

You could’ve kicked yourself. How could you not have noticed it sooner. Jungkook just wanted to prove to himself that he could still do things like he did before his accident. Because even though he showed people bringing up his disability didn’t bother him, it did. He still hadn’t come to terms with what happened, and believed the current state of his leg deemed him less worthy. 

He looked away from whatever he saw in your eyes. His own fighting not to show the sadness that threatened to spill down his cheeks. 

“You aren’t like everyone else, Jungkook.” Your words tore his head back in your direction. His shoulders quickly squared up to take whatever verbal blow you were about to hurl in his direction. You were happy to convince him otherwise.

“You don’t need to prove anything to a single person. Yeah, you aren’t a hundred percent who you used to be, but it doesn’t make you any less you. You aren’t defined by a damn leg and if another human being does treat you differently because of it: fuck’em. Now, get your shit together and hand me the end of your cane.”

The both of you stared at one another for what felt like an eternity. Jungkook’s face unreadable as his eyes took you in making you squirm just the slightest bit. Whether he was looking for a hint that you were deceiving him; that something hurtful laid underneath, he wouldn’t find it. You made sure with your hand this time open and waiting for him, that he could see just how much you meant what you said. 

After what felt like a baby size eternity, Jungkook answered you in a way you’d grown to expect. In one swift motion, he picked his cane out from the mud and placed it, dirty end first into your waiting hand. Your face scrunched up in disgust, as the leftover mud squished between your fingers. The action enough to break the coldness of Jungkook’s blank expression into the smirk that was all too familiar. 

“Oh my god! You would do that.”

The amusement on his face was enough to tell you he’d most definitely done it on purpose. Of course, you’d already known that. You didn’t need his raised eyebrow or that devilish smirk to inform you of that.

“Oh, so you think you know me now.”

“I know enough to know, without a doubt, this is something you’d do. Brat.”

You saved the last word for good measure and it was met with a bark of surprise laughter. His reaction was not something you’d expected, but a welcomed one as his face instantly lit up brighter than you’d ever seen. Jungkook’s laughter and smile was genuine and good god, was it breathtakingly adorable. 

Who knew calling him a brat led to so many heart stopping possibilities? Like no longer having a permanent scowl. 

“Alright smart ass, how about we settle this for when I’m not stuck in the mud.”

“You got yourself a deal. Only if you stop pouting.”

“I was not pouting!”

It was your turn to laugh wholeheartedly while your other hand moved to secure itself to his cane. There was no way you’d be letting it slip free from you. Mud or no mud. 

“Tomato potato: pouting is pouting.”

Jungkook’s head tilted to the side. His brain noticeably trying to comprehend what it was you just said.

“That makes absolutely no sense.”

“It makes perfect sense, Jungkook now grab a hold of yo-“

Honestly, you should’ve seen this coming. He’d already given you a muddy end of a cane. It was the perfect foreshadowing moment that was leading up to this, and yet, somehow you were surprised when he pulled with full force. You figured he was strong - not freakishly. Not enough to send you flying face first toward the large mud puddle with the sound of a squeaking bird of surprise that you could only assume was yourself. 

The only thing that kept you from going face first was a split second decision to ruin just the lower half of your outfit. 

The impact with the mud was squishy and came with the weirdest sound effects that reminded you of pushing your hand into a container of slim. God, was it squishy. An immediate, “Ewww,” dragging out from your lips as your hands lifted up from where they’d been buried. Your eyes taking in the full extent of your lower half now resembles the Swamp Thing. 

Jungkook’s laughter brought you back to reality and flinging what was left of the mud on your hands in his direction. It only earned you another bark of laughter. 

“What in the hell was that for?!”

“Now whose pouting?” He teased.

You wanted to hit him but you knew you couldn’t reach. So you settled for flinging another round of mud. 

“Are you kidding me? You pulled me in here cause I said you were pouting!”

“Yup.”

“Unbelievable. You’re a child.”

“I thought you said brat?”

“That too! Ugh! Jungkook! You’re such a pain in the ass. I’m not helping you anymore.”

You moved to try and pull up one leg and found it way more difficult than you’d imagined. Seriously, was this shit superglue? No matter how many times you struggled to pull up either leg it wouldn’t budge; producing an agitated groan to seep from your body. 

You wanted to murder him. 

When you glanced up at him at least Jungkook had the decency to appear worried.

“Do you need help? I didn’t think it’d be so hard for you to pull yourself up.”

“Oh, so you’re worried about me not being able to pull myself up, but not about me covered in mud.”

The shrug Jungkook gave as an answer made you want to throttle him. You wanted to tell him to shove his help up his ass. Realistically, however, you knew there was no way you were getting unstuck without getting dirtier from crawling around. For a second time, his hand appeared, like magic, in front of you. 

Your eyes trailed up his hand to that devilish grin of his and found your earlier agitation disintegrate. What you hated the most, was how his eyes lit up to match his smile. This warm version of Jungkook wasn’t someone you were used to. You’d seen the cocky jock who knew he was good at everything. Experienced the real asshole Jungkook that made you want to rip out chunks of hair. But this side of him...was worth a heartache or two. 

Without another thought you reached out and took his hand and allowed him to start lifting you up. It wasn’t until you were half way you came up with your own plan. A devilish grin of your own spreading your lips wide as the idea grew into something worth doing . 

Jungkook had a moment to be confused before your free hand shot out and took fierce hold of his forearm. You made sure it was locked in place before your body went completely limp, and sent his body into an unbalanced mess. 

“The fu-!”

Jungkook’s descent, at first, made you feel like you’d accomplished a victory. One you didn’t get to relish in for long. Jungkook may not have been able to finish his earlier sentence, but you easily made up for it. A softened, “Fuck!” came pressed from your chest as he landed sideways on top of you. The angle reminded you of an awkward pair of scissors: if one part of the scissors was ridiculously muscled for a student. 

You’d had little time to move your hands up to brace yourself against his weight. The air from your lungs whooshing out in laughter with your body struggling to recover from underneath him. And no, no you weren’t painfully aware that your hands could feel every well lined muscle under the fabric of his t-shirt. And no, you were not blushing. Not even a little. 

You were sure when Jungkook lifted his head up to look in your direction, he’d see the sinful glee you took in your awkward positioning. Instead, your lungs erupted into laughter. One side of his face perfectly smeared with mud making one eye remain closed and his right doing most of the work. He looked ridiculous...and cute. 

“You think this is funny?”

“I think-I think it’s the best thing I’m going to see all day.”

It took a few tries to speak through your laughter, but when you finally got the words out you couldn’t have been more proud. Jungkook on the other hand, seemed to struggle to keep the annoyance on his face. The first sign of a smile cracking into the mud that began to dry on his face. 

Jungkook moved to prop himself up - the action giving you the room you needed to wiggle out from underneath him. You were about to call it a success, a retort to an unspoken comment he’d yet to make. All of it came crashing down, however, when Jungkook’s mud covered hand rose from the depths and placed a long streak down your nose with his thumb giving an artistic sweep across your cheek. 

The marks he gave reminded you of those old western movies you’d seen. Warpaint covered faces of men getting ready to square off to defend their home from invaders. The thought seemed to match perfectly with the beat of your heart thundering like a drum inside your chest.

It wasn’t just because Jungkook touched you - on purpose - in a playful way. It had nothing to do with the fact his muddy hand was currently resting against your cheek. Or from the denial that it brought out a spark of mischievous happiness to ignite inside you as your mouth fell open to expose the sound of laughter. No, your heart pounded against your chest purely for the look that passed behind chocolate eyes and the soft smile that followed close behind. 

So, sure. In that instance it could’ve just been a plan old look. You weren’t a hundred percent sure it wasn’t more than just a look though, either. There was that one boy in first grade, however, who did give you an aggressive teeth-clacking peck on the lips during recess, but this was completely different. 

And because you were so uncertain of what it all meant, your only reaction was to lift your hand up from beside you and slam it palm first against his face. 

Jungkook’s face lit up in shock and you couldn’t stop the eruption of laughter that spilled from your lips. It was an immediate rush of joy at seeing his handsome face marked by your small muddy handprint that streaked itself across the plains of his face. Normally, you’d be mortified: waiting patiently to be scolded and made to feel small. Instead, the shock wore off his face in an instant. Jungkook’s eyes lighting up with childlike excitement as a giddy, “Oh yeah?” rushed between his lips. 

You didn’t have a chance to wonder what he meant before he reached into the mud and brought up a snowball version of the earth. 

“Oh, no you don’t!” 

Your eyes went wide and frantic giggles exploded free as your body struggled in vain to get out from under him. The previous joy of being pinned by his weight dissipating when that large mud ball found its new home smeared on top of your head. 

“Jungkook-ah!”

His own laughter rose up around you as your body began to move in earnest to get out from under him. When you finally realized it was pointless, another bright idea overtook you. If Jungkook noticed the renewed mischievous glint in your eye, he didn’t show it. 

He continued to smile obliviously down at you until the two fist fulls of mud you’d taken in both hands came crashing down on top of his head. It didn’t matter that your face caught some of the aftermath: the face he made was priceless. 

You didn’t get a chance to enjoy your tiny victory before the two of you were a mess of arms and limbs rolling feverishly around; the two of you playfully wrestling for dominance. The mixture of your laughter rising up until you weren’t sure where Jungkook’s ended and yours began. By the end of it, you were both resembling the pigs you’d seen earlier on the farm. Bodies fully covered in wet earth and lounging beside each other in exhaustion. Every few moments random fits of giggles overtaking the two of you until you realized you both needed to get back. 

This time, instead of the two of you refusing help from the other, you eagerly took it. The both of you worked together to reach the edge of the mud pit and, without further incident, pulled each other out. 

The walk back to the main barn was done in silence. In other circumstances, you would’ve been consumed with a need to fill it. The impending weight of anxiety would’ve flared across your skin until you would’ve blurted out anything. Small talk was never one of your strong suits, but a comfortable banter had somehow formed between the two of you. You knew if you started talking, Jungkook would respond. It was still a fifty-fifty on whether or not it would be a smart ass response or a real one, but a response nonetheless. 

You didn’t try to start a conversation. You chose to enjoy the reassurance that he was beside you. Your mind running through what exactly just happened and how you both ended up looking like bad impression art. You’d spent so much time stealing glances in his direction that you could’ve sworn you caught him doing the same. But who were you kidding. No one had stolen glances at you since middle school, and that was only to steal the answers off tests. 

There was no way Jeon Jungkook would be the one to break that trend. No matter how flattering the thought. So when you felt that knowable itch of being watched you found yourself surprised that Jungkook was indeed staring at you. 

“Are you cold?”

Jungkook’s question jolted you from your train of thought and sent you reeling into another. He was closer to you now. Close like you’d been while sitting on the bus with your shoulders brushing with every movement. Every bump helplessly sending you lightly banging into the other. 

On the bus you could easily play it off as something out of your control. But now? Now there was no good explanation that you could find to why Jungkook decided to walk so closely beside you. There was no way to explain away the way his gaze drew across your face like he’d save it to memory. 

“Well I am covered in freezing mud water.” 

You’d tried for sarcasm but your voice barely carried over a whisper. It made Jungkook’s head subconsciously dip lower just to hear you. The devilish smirk he was infamous for spread like wildfire across his lips. 

“I would offer you my jacket, since it’s the gentlemanly thing to do, but you see some crazy person pushed me into the mud.”

A scoff escaped you as your hand playfully whipped out to slap his shoulder. 

“Ya, Jungkook! You? A gentleman? That’s funny. What is also funny is the fact you got yourself stuck in the mud first. I just came to rescue you.”

“Rescue me?” He asked with an eyebrow coyly cocked. 

“I’m like your knight in shining armor.”

A throaty laugh came from between his lips; sending his head back exposing his face to the sun. You were mesmerized watching him as the sun kissed down across his face and weren’t at all ashamed at being caught watching as he brought his attention back to you. A smile of your own growing to match the one he wore along with your mind fluttering in wonder of how he was even real. 

“If you’re my knight, Y/N I’m in a lot of trouble.”

You feigned hurt but couldn’t hide the grin happily splayed on your face and, crazy thing was, you didn’t want to. It felt impossible that the two of you were so giddy with each other. A strange familiarity brewed heavily between you to the point it felt like the two of you joked like this for years. 

Jungkook’s own smile enough to warm the chill that began to creep up your arms to expose goosebumps on your skin. The two of you fell into a shroud of companionable silence and continued to make your way back to the main entrance of the farm. Your heart skipping a helpless beat every time you feel Jungkook’s fingers graze across yours. Your mind hopelessly wanting to believe maybe, just maybe, he was tempted to reach out and hold it. 

You came back to the main farm and found your teacher and classmates impatiently waiting. The immediate shock your teacher showed at your appearance seemed to grow more intense until he came storming over: hysterical at your current condition. 

“What on earth have the two of you been doing?!” 

“They’ve been rolling around with pigs.”

You knew that tart voice anywhere and wasn’t surprised it was Amber that spoke. What did surprise you was how much you didn’t care with Jungkook standing like an equally filthy calm current by your side. 

“We’re sorry, seonsaegnim,” Jungkook began coolly with a bow. When he realized you were still standing a hand shot out to the back of your head to bring it down. You quickly slapped it away but kept yourself in a bow. “We got lost from the group and found ourselves stuck in a giant mud pit.” 

“It seems to me like you were playing in it,” the farmer chuckled. “I could hose them off before they get back on the bus.” 

His offer left heat rising to your cheeks. The sound of a sea of giggles making your stomach ache in embarrassment. You used the curtain of your hair to hide and hoped they’d come up with a different suggestion, but with a small shrug of his shoulder, Jungkook brought your heated attention back to him. A soft smile cracking the now dry handprint you’d left across his cheek. 

It was ridiculous. You both looked ridiculous, and yet, he was still handsome. You probably looked like a troll. 

“Hey Knight in shining armor,” he whispered. “It seems we get to take a bath together.” 

The sun couldn’t be anywhere near as hot as your face felt. The heat spread from red cheeks and down your neck until the butterflies in your stomach were out of control. Jungkook knew what he had done. He could see it plainly on your face and he loved it. 

You, on the other hand, wanted to hit him. 

And just like divine intervention your teacher did it for you. His curled up pamphlet struck down on top of Jungkook’s head, but it only made his smile grow impossibly larger.

“Ya! I don’t think so! We’ll have you go one at a time to clean up. I’ll look for something for you both to change into.”

Jungkook went first to be hosed down. The farmer actually allowed him to have his privacy so he could get into his more...private areas in peace. The clothes that were found for both of you to wear were old gym clothes thrown in a box in the storage bay at the bottom of the bus. You imagined they must have been thrown there for a reason. The colors were sad and faded down to a color that resembled the mud you’d fallen in. An even sadder rim of yellow wrapped around the sleeves the only hope of color in the terrible outfit you were now forced to wear. At least it was warm with the added bonus Jungkook somehow ended up with the shortest shorts in the box. 

After the two of you dried off and changed you were shepherded onto the bus. The place that held Amber and her minions now vacant due to the teacher demanding you sit exactly in the far back in their spot. He must have imagined it would be like putting two naughty kids in time out. The only effect it really had was giving you the chance to breathe and enjoy the solitude. 

Jungkook dug around for your earbuds inside your bag. Finally finding the small container and lifting it open. His fingers pulling out the left and surprising you by placing it gently in your ear. Your face must have shown this but Jungkook paid you no mind. He was busy placing the other bud into his ear; flipping the case shut and throwing it back inside to forever be lost until you practically tipped out your bag to locate it again. Oh well. A problem for another time. 

“Put on something for the ride home, Y/N. I trust you to be dj again.”

You wanted to tease him. To joke about putting on the YMCA or Macarena . The only thing that stopped you was the relaxed features of Jungkook’s face. The lazy way his neck rested back against the seat and his head languidly gazing in your direction. You tried to squish back all the butterflies that look gave you and a hushed, “Alright. Lady Marmalade it is,” embarrassingly came from between your lips. 

Your eyes were too focused on your music list. You didn’t allow them to look as he chuckled beside you. The sound light and rough all at once - demanding you give it attention. 

“Don’t make me regret it,” he joked. 

You kept scrolling until you found Deans’ “D (Half Moon)”. The soft piano and tone of his voice quickly filled the ear buds and by the soft hum of the voice beside you, you knew you’d pick a good one. 

You allowed yourself to relax beside him. Your right hand placing the playlist down between the two of you. Your body was so relaxed you didn’t think about moving your hand anywhere else. Your eyes falling comfortably closed as you continue to listen to the acoustics of the song and the even softer, and equally pleasurable, song of Jungkook singing along. 

When his left hand found its way down beside yours, you didn’t question his reasoning. The music held between the two of you and maybe he wanted to change the playlist. You let your mind continue to think that even after his finger gingerly grazed yours and found a home beside them. Both of your hands stayed this way the entire ride back to campus. Neither of you moved to change positions; lost to the sounds of the melodies of the playlist.

[ruby-whistler]

I feel like if we really want to take a closer look at the topic of c!Dream’s obsession with c!Tommy, we have to look into both his reasons for it, and the tactics he employs to achieve his goals concerning it.

[ /dsmp /roleplay I did not tag this that way but this entire analysis is hugely c!Dream critical and focuses on the various facets of his manipulation, so if you’re not in the mood to read that, you have been warned not to. ]

Interestingly enough, before the SMP was actual heavy roleplay, back during the original disc war, the reason c!Dream listed for keeping the discs was to use them as bargaining chips, because he knew c!Tommy wanted them back, as they were hard items to get at the time, and knew he could use them for that purpose.

He had just gotten mugged and repeatedly killed by c!Tommy, who had also participated in a conflict beforehand, and only gave a half-hearted apology in the end. He had also seen him cause problems on the server before that. The discs were meant to be something he would threaten to destroy if c!Tommy started acting out of line, because he didn’t trust him to keep his word and wanted a guarantee. That was the reason he insisted on keeping the discs after getting his armor back, which is why he originally stole them.

And I feel like c!Dream’s train of thought, while skewed and twisted with irrational mindsets, is rather straightforward in essence. Conflict is what he actively stands against and what stops him from having a united server, hence in his mind, he needs to destroy things that bring conflict, and control what he can’t or doesn’t want to destroy. He thinks c!Tommy brings conflict, so he feels like he needs to find ways to control him.

Sure, we all know about the systematic abuse and isolation he employed to make c!Tommy believe he was his friend, but one of his major tactics since the beginning has also been intimidation, or a particular type of manipulation that leads to people fearing him or thinking that he has more power than he actually does. In his mind, if people are scared of him, they’re much more likely to listen to him. And the most fascinating thing is that it works.

During the initial exile conflict, despite him being just a single person with no official political power, he assures victory by aggressively, and very intelligently, threatening his way through the negotiations. c!Tubbo is scared of him, and that is not a coincidence. It’s purposeful.

Seeing as he planned to give L’Manberg technical independence either way - he said that there was no real way for him to stop them from pursuing that anyways, so that wasn’t the intention - even the war seems like a very likely ploy to make the revolutionaries fear him enough so that they wouldn’t start conflict after seceding. c!Wilbur is careful not to start anything with the Greater Dream SMP after this, because c!Dream has shown that he can and will ruin them if they do. c!Tubbo also knows exactly the lengths c!Dream will go to if he promises war thanks to this, and that if he says he’ll build a wall and keep them from leaving it with force, he’s going to do it. When c!Tubbo is faced with an ultimatum, seeing as his goal is to keep New L’Manberg safe and peaceful, he knows he has no option but to give in.

Another variation of this tactic is making himself seem more dangerous and unpredictable than he actually is and obscuring his motivation. If people don’t know what he wants, they are less able to devise effective tactics to stop him from getting it. The element of surprise is something that he utilizes constantly throughout warfare, and psychological battling is no different. For instance, during Doomsday he begins talking about how the server will “be at peace now” thanks to L’Manberg being gone, before c!Tommy barges in, and begins implying he did this all because he hates him.

DREAM Tommy… Look. In all destruction *looks at the falling TNT* there is a new beginning.

TOMMY You- you did this…! To all of us! Not just to me, but to everyone here…!

DREAM Beautiful. You know… the unfinished symphony, right?

…

TOMMY Why…?

DREAM The server will be at peace now.

TOMMY Why, Dream…?

DREAM Because I didn’t-

TOMMY Couldn’t you just- couldn’t you just burn the discs…? Couldn’t you just do it to me? Why did you have to…?

DREAM This is much more fun.

[ credits to @dsmptranscripts on twitter ]

Although c!Dream’s motivation for destroying L’Manberg was actually that, much like with c!Tommy, he thought that it bred conflict and division, he picks up on this and switches to saying how he did indeed do this all to hurt c!Tommy because he finds it fun.

He talks very inconsistently plenty of times, but it’s rather easy to spot a pattern of him being honest about his motives with his allies but straight up lying to his enemies. This makes sense, and it is usually employed as a deliberate tactic.

Intimidation is something he also uses to manipulate people during his time in prison. Ever since he got locked up, it became a mental fight. If people fully realized that he was powerless to stop them from hurting or killing him, his life only hanging by a thin strand on the concept of the revive book, he would’ve lost the control he needed to assure his survival.

The difference is that before then, c!Dream had actual physical power, however the manipulation gets harder to pull off when he has none, even with people he finds naive enough to fall for it. He still risks it because he’s desperate, and has nothing but his own life to lose, which is something he believes to be protected by his possession of the revival book. He had never been big on self-preservation besides staying alive to reach his goals.

He first tries this on c!Sam, who, rather unpredictably, begins to get morally corrupted by the power he has over c!Dream, on top of other factors. c!Dream talks to c!Sam about exile and about c!Tommy because logically, if he’s afraid of him, he’s less likely to try to hurt or kill him. This backfires because this new, unexpected version of c!Sam begins to fiercely hate c!Dream instead, hurting him further.

The same thing happens with c!Tommy - when he realizes that he can’t influence him through repeated visits anymore, he attempts to scare him into obedience again. He establishes himself as someone dangerous who has the power to escape and hurt c!Tommy as well as his friends, which he hopes will subconsciously sway him to not do things that he would disagree with. We can see him pretending to be the one in control throughout the stream after c!Tommy first got revived.

He also tells him that he can bring back the person who he’s afraid of the most and get him on his side, which is precisely the bit that ends up backfiring, but it doesn’t really matter, and trying was still the best thing he could’ve logically done.

If he hadn’t, at some point people would realize he actually has no power at all, and pay back the fear he’d instilled in them previously. This happens with c!Quackity, who began to take advantage of c!Dream’s lack of control as soon as he realized how easy it was to strip away the last bit of power he has, which is also keeping him alive.

Getting back on track, c!Dream essentially tries to control c!Tommy first by manipulating him into believing he is his friend, then believing he is a threat to him when that fails. We can see this from the way the Finale is prepared to be somewhat of a final showdown between the two, and also by him actually revealing the tactics he used to employ during exile, for example talking about taking away the invites to the party and not actually being his friend. This also proves he knew exactly what he was doing during that time, and he could easily switch between tactics because the end goal of controlling c!Tommy was more important to him than what c!Tommy thought of him.

And that’s it.

It’s all just a ploy to control him because he finds him one of the hardest people to stop from causing conflict.

Controlling him is as important to c!Dream as destroying L’Manberg and dethroning c!George and collecting people’s attachments, because what is important to him is achieving his goals through whatever means necessary, not the means themselves.

As for people, while he has no desire to actually kill them - or feels he cannot, because they could still be useful to his plans in the future - he treats them as either tools or obstacles he needs to deal with, especially if they ever get in the way of his plans, and he isn’t particularly attached to them. He does this to himself as well, and doesn’t seem to care about his own well-being or reputation as long as he achieves what he wants. While he’s focused on the ends to his means, that is the only thing that is important to him.

You could argue this does stem from thinking of the people he wants the server to be united for as important, since cc!Dream said his goals are for “everyone to get along”, but that doesn’t change the fact that the ways in which he works towards that goal doesn’t treat others’ or his own feelings as consequential at all. In the case of people who stand against him, their entire well-being is put to the side until what needs to be done in his mind gets done.

c!Dream isn’t “scared” of c!Tommy per se, nor does he seem to be obsessed with the guy himself, but he finds him something necessary to get out of the way to accomplish his goals, and he does so, ruthlessly as ever.

And even though the goal of eradicating conflict and uniting the server is something that he is so focused on that it could definitely be called an obsession, c!Tommy really isn’t that important within the equation at all.

This wasn’t a post to excuse or downplay any of his actions, nor do I agree with the “logical” thoughts I mentioned. There is a reason why I used phrases like “he finds” “in his eyes” “he thinks” “in his mind” “he feels like” a whole lot throughout this essay.

The character has an extremely flawed worldview that I in no way agree with (and although that should probably be pretty obvious, you really don’t know with this fandom). All this post is for is to analyse certain traits that are assigned to him, and figure out through logical reasoning whether they’re a mischaracterization or not.

And as far as the evidence goes; c!Dream isn't obsessed with c!Tommy, he is obsessed with his goal, and he sees Tommy as a big obstacle to achieving it, which makes him focus on him. These feelings he puts on display are an illusion to distract people from his real goal so they don't know how to get in his way - because, just like cc!Dream said, he “likes to withhold information; withhold plans; and withhold feelings” from everyone else.

[chibi-tsukiko]

Hi Em, how are you?

I have questions for W&D Wednesday if that’s okay🙈

Does being a child of the damned or the light mean that child’s parents are demon or angel? With Takashi being a child of the damned, does that mean his father is demonic? For some reason I originally thought Takashi was a descendant and Ryuji was Azenean.

Why is Ryuji’s father so cold towards his son and hates all magic users? Are the Zenko family Nobles or work under Takashi’s father?

When Ryuji is tasked to hunt down magic users, how do they track them? Do they leave a sort of magical signature or footprint whenever they preform magic?🤔

How did Ryuji get his characteristic scar under his eye?

How did they mistakenly kill Ishida’s sister, Sora, as a magic user if she wasn’t one?

Where was Ishida when this all went down? What happened when he found Sora?…if it’s not too big of a spoiler😅🙈

I was reading your OC-tobers.…again🤭😅, they’re very addictive… what happened after Ryuji lost consciousness in the burning building??😱 Does Ishida save him?

I really didn’t mean for these to be Rishida focused. It just sorta happened 😅. I’m missing these boys.

I hope you have a good day. You’re a gem💜

Hello buttercup!!! and HOLY MOLY I'M ON CLOUD 9!!! This is amazing!! Let's get into these answers! 😆🤗

I apologize for the length up front...😅🙈

1. Technically speaking, both Children of the Light and Children of the Damned are “descendants of angels and demons.” And the angelic/demonic blood (or power) gets passed down genetically. So Takashi’s Father is demonic, but not a “demon” in the traditional sense of the word (like the monstrous ones). The Han demonic family line goes back generations. I hope that makes sense!

Also! You are not crazy! Originally, Takashi was a descendent, and Ryuji was Azenean. However, as I wrote the story and developed it, I changed it. Mostly because Takashi was born with powers…therefore, he needed to be a direct Child of the Damned. Ryuji was changed because I adjusted his family background to fit in with the story and in order to have his backstory make more sense tied in with Takashi’s a Drele fit better than an Azenean. :)

2. The Zenko family does work under the Han family. They were a noble family that joined forces under the Han family. Ryuji’s Father has always hated magic users because he feels threatened by them and is envious of their powers since he himself doesn’t have any powers. So when he hears that the Han family doesn’t want anyone to threaten their control over the lands, Ryuji’s father offers to create and train a group of Assassins to hunt and kill all the magic users.

3. Because the Han family controls much of Nubik territory, they have spies and soldiers constantly walking around who would see magic users and give out their locations. Magic signatures can only be traced and felt by other magic users. In some cases, they would use other magic users to help track down their friends. But for the most part they just gathered intel on where they lived and went from there. And even as magic users tried to go into hiding, people would rat them out to try and stay in favor with the Han family (and avoid punishment).

4. Ryuji got his scar under his eye after he tells his Father he is quitting being an Assassin and basically that he thinks what his father is doing is wrong. And his Father back hands him. 😤The family ring his father wears, cuts under his eye.

5. Ryuji was not told who the target was. Only that there was a magic user that lived in the house on the hill. This was his first mission and the team was reluctant to have him with them so they didn’t give him any information. In fact, when they arrived at the house, Ryuji was told to keep watch from another hill top & to shoot his arrow if necessary. Minutes in, Ryuji heard and saw explosions coming from the house, he saw the leader of the assassination team come out and a person (he did not realize it was a child) firing magic explosions at him. So, to protect his comrade, he fired. When he came down from the hill, he saw that it was a young child and he saw the broken glass. Horrified, he realizes that she was throwing potions, she was not the magic user. He’s completely distraught over this mistake, but the team doesn’t care. “It’s one less magic wannabe” is what they tell him. But when Ryuji returns home, he tells his father he is quitting the team. Unable to cope with his mistake. Furious about his son’s embarrassing behavior, Ryuji’s father sends him to a Warriors Academy. Where he meets Takashi. 🤗

6. The “flashback” scene about what happens to Sora (and how Ishida responded to it) is written here 😊

7. Takashi goes to get help and tells Ishida that Ryuji had gone back into the burning building to save the young girl. When they see the building has collapsed, Ishida digs through the rubble and nearly uses all of his magic to heal Ryuji when he finds him. ♥️

THANK YOU SO SO SOOOOOO MUCH FOR SENDING THESE IN!!! 😘😘😘 I hope I was able to answer everything for you!! If you have more questions or want me to clarify more things let me know!!

I'm gunna tag the rest of the W&D gang because I figured you guys may have the same kinda questions or may wanna know

Tag list : @littleturtle95 @phoenix-and-dragon @khaleesiofalicante @my-archerboy @clumsyowl-in-a-fandom @radisv @raziyekroos @magnus-the-maqnificent @spotsandclawsthings @shadowhuntingdemigod @elettralightwood

[that-bi-bitch-writes]

A Cursed Reality (Ch.1)

JJK x Male Reader Insert

[Name] is an orphan. And He's a little unhinged, but what Jujutsu Sorcerer isn't? A cursed speech user like Inumaki, [Name] can manipulate reality and he's heard some rumors. 

-Once again I'm using the power of Allison Hargreeves AKA 'The Rumor' to bring to life a character I'm passionate about. -This one is purely Male Reader and the reader is a going to be a Second Year. -All platonic for now but perhaps a romance in the future -Really powerful MC but he doesn't know how to use his powers to their fullest potential yet

Previous || Next

(cross posted on wattpad and eventually quotev)

Chapter One:

[Name]’s origin story was not that sad. I mean he lost his family in an accident⸺ one that he caused but he doesn’t feel guilty about it. Not in the least. No, really, he only cares a little. That is of course why he still doesn’t speak unless spoken to and has a hard time making friends. Like a normal 16 year old. Normal people can hear voices. Right?

“Live”

“So”

“...”

“Ahem. Why are you here [Full Name]?”

“?”

“Meaning why do you want to learn jujutsu? We won’t just keep you because you’re orphaned. Sorry we’re not that kind of institution.”

‘What am I supposed to say?’ [Name] thought ‘Do they want an innocent response? That I want to save the world? That it was a dying wish? I don’t do dying wishes because honestly, at this point… I just want⸺’ [Name] paused dramatically and for the first time since the chairman started talking (he started with a god awful introduction before the real interview) he looked up

“To fuck shit up” 

“That’s not a bad response”

‘What the fuck. Is he making dolls? Maybe I should get out of here’

“Thanks?”

“You have to be at least a little crazy to survive the jujutsu world. But being batshit won’t save you” the old dude (he’s not that old [Name]) said 

“Yaga sensei is it? I can handle myself” he said before turning around and walking towards the exit

“Prove it” Yaga called out, stopping [Name] in his tracks “stop my cursed doll and I’ll stop bothering you”

[Name] nodded but it seemed as if Yaga wasn’t giving him the chance to say no. The doll was already flying towards him at an alarming speed. 

“Stop”

Yaga’s surprise showed through his glasses.The doll literally stopped mid-air and then dropped to the floor. He had only seen one cursed speech user powerful enough to stop an attack with one word. And how was it that [Name] could hold a regular conversation? What were his drawbacks? To what extent does he want to fuck shit up? Realistically Yaga knew if he trained this boy and he had a sudden change in alliance, there would be hell to pay. The only option was to give him a lightning rod. Something to keep his allegiance tied down. A lighting rod was the kinder metaphor but really the kid needed an anchor.

“Can I go now?”

“... Yes. I’ll have someone show you to your room in a minute.”

[Name] only nodded

“May I ask another question? This time more about your cursed technique”

[Name] hesitated before beginning “I only recently discovered I could do that. The only reason I could do it with one word was because the doll wasn’t very strong” 

Yaga nodded at the explanation thinking that was all there was, but then [Name] drew in a breath and continued “My brother and I had different powers, and we argued about whose was better with him always saying mine was stronger. He had more powers, sorry, cursed techniques than I did, but no matter how many abilities you have, nothing beats reality manipulation” And with a sense of finality [Name] closed his mouth and turned back towards the door leaving Yaga alone to think.

The room [Name] had arrived at was not modest. When you live in an apartment building with your older brother things can feel cramped at times. The walls were bare and there was a window with curtains and a bed pushed up against a wall that connected to the balcony. There was a desk across from the bed and plenty of space to exercise… if that’s what you’re into.

“Here’s your room [L.Name]. A teacher will be coming in to check on you soon and the rest of the first years are down the hall. Welcome to Jujutsu Tech”

“Thanks I guess”

[Name] spent little to no time on decorating his room. It was hard to decorate when you had no belongings. The only thing he wanted to do was get rid of all the sources of sunlight. How else was he supposed to brood like a teenager. And what about privacy? Japanese people did like to bathe together and let it all hang out but like in his 15 years of living only three people had seen him naked and he wasn’t prepared to let an entire institution of fellow crazies sneak a peek at the goods. (not that they were very good goods anyway)

“Darken”

“That’s a nice cursed technique you got going on there” 

[Name] whipped his head to the door to see a tall white haired man wearing a blind-fold and a smile on his face. Just what name needed. Cheery disposition.

“Are you a cursed speech user just like our little Inumaki here?” 

[Name] turned his attention to the other white haired male standing in the doorway. He seemed aloof like [Name]. He either had some traumatic past or was one of those douchebags who brood because it makes you cooler. The least you could do is actually watch someone die in front of you before you go all messy depressy.

“Konbu Kombu”

Now that was a surprise. [Name] just bowed his head in response 

“Are you the teacher here”

“Yes! Of course. I’m Gojo-sensei AKA the Strongest Jujutsu Sorcerer”

“...”

“That was supposed to get a reaction out of you. Anyway I heard that you were moving in and I wanted to get to know you while bringing two of my precious students together to bond”

“Thanks I guess”

“You can speak?”

“Yes?”

“Interesting. And you are a cursed speech user?”

“In a way yes”

“Explain”

“I can manipulate reality but I usually do it through speech. Recently I’ve been able to do it through commands”

“And you were doing it differently before”

[Name] nodded

“Try and have a conversation with Toge here, the similarity in your powers might make you immune”

“Hello”

“Hello”

“I’m [Name] how does your cursed technique work”

“Commands”

“Go ahead”

“Have a seat then [Name]” 

There was a strong urge to sit down but [Name] held back after seeing the hope in Gojo’s face. Inumaki had none, maybe because he was confident in his technique or perhaps because hope would be too cruel, but a light showed in his eyes after [Name] remained standing. 

“Kneel”

“Jump”

“Run away”

After every command the pain in Inumaki’s throat grew a little. The commands got progressively stronger but so did the hope of having a normal friend. Gojo had been relieved. He only pretended not to know what was going on in front of the two first years. He knew what Yaga was planning, pairing the two together and it was smart. 

“My commands aren’t very strong compared to yours, but I have one for you”

Inumaki nodded and Name drew in a breath to set his resolve

“Be my friend”

[whirlybirdwhat]

Prompt: shipwreck/overboard/injury

HELLOOOOO DEAR ANON THIS IS LIKE A YEAR MAYBE TWO LATE. BUT. ITS DONE. I DID IT.  ITS DONE.  originally this was gonna be a 15k zolu story about zoro n luffy taking a wrong turn in the east blue, ending up in the calm belt, and like. getting stranded there in the grand line before somehow finding their way to the east blue. but. this came out instead after many tries. so! i hope you enjoy and i am SO sorry for the wait! <333 no without further wait - 

tumbling overboard, faces full of fear

- read on ao3!!! 

It’s a storm, their first after Thriller Bark when it happens. Franky is manning the helm, the only one familiar with the Sunny’s system, (the only one besides Brook whose hands don’t reach for the spokes of Merry’s Wheel instead of Sunny’s, who doesn’t swerve the ship to hard to account for a thrice broken rudder, who doesn’t have the dregs of grief in him for a beloved ship) when a wave swamps the deck.

Thunderous and overwhelming, it swallows the deck, rushing up to the trees and covering the sea-strong grass on Merry’s lawn. His crew-mates are laughing, joyous, unafraid even in this storm when –

A flash of red. A yell turned scream. Terror.

His captain, dragged overboard by the waves in an instant, Zoro reaching out but collapsing half way through because he was too injured to move, to breathe, to get his captain –

No one else sees. No one else sees the widening of Luffy’s eyes matched in Zoro’s, the panic as an outstretched arm just misses the railing, as Zoro is too slow, too injured to grab on, the wrenched scream out of Luffy’s throat, drowned by the wind – no one.

No one but Franky. 

“NAMI!” He yells, grabbing Usopp by the collar as he does so and pressing the wheel into his hands. “KEEP US STEADY!”

Nami, hair plastered to her face, eyes wide, has confusion and rage etched on to her features, mouth opening to give a sharp retort but –

Franky points, to where red is quickly sinking beneath the waves, and doesn’t wait for Nami’s expression to change. 

A step, two, three, up onto the railing, and then a lunge upward and outward, arms over head.  Franky dives, like he’s dived a thousand times before, into the heart of the storm where nothing awaits but water and rage and crashing waves.

His captain is down there, sinking, drowning, because of the fruit he ate. 

Like hell if Franky is going to let him die.

The water presses against his eyes, digging in and choking the breath out of his chest. The currents try to drag him around, grabbing at his ankles, his arms, his perfectly coiffed hair, but Franky has faced off against the world and demons alike. The waves have nothing on him.

Still – the air tries to escape him, hurting, his chest becoming painfully tight. He wants air. He needs air. The panic, human instinct, is setting in, but his captain is still down in the waves without a fighting chance. Franky doesn’t breath, and presses on.

It’s… dark down in the waves, the flashlights in his eyes that he installed doing little to abate it.  

He presses on, peering in the dark.

Luffy – come one! He thinks, almost desperately. Where are you? 

Looking, looking, looking – 

Something slaps against his face. Reflexively, Franky tries to swat it away before his hands land on worn straw and soft ribbon. Luffy’s hat.

Which means –

Franky kicks, harder and harder and harder, arms helping after one hand places the string around his neck.

Luffy! I’m coming for you!’

A second, two seconds – Franky is running out of breath.

Another second, four – he’s not going to make it.

Five, six and –

Red.

There’s red.

Franky reaches out and grabs his captain’s brilliant shirt, quickly hauling his captain, limp and drowning, into his arms.

Luffy’s so light. Dead weight but barely anything in this giant ocean. Barely anything when compared to Franky. 

(His face is gentle in the dark depths, as if the ocean took every crease and worry in his face, every laugh line and scrunched Shishhishi! And smoothed it out into something as empty as the sea floor. Franky doesn’t like it. Not at all.)

There’s no time for any more contemplation. They have to get up. 

The sky is dark above them. Franky can only tell its up by his internal altimeter. 

He’s not going to make it with what breath his has now. Only one chance.

Franky breaths in, salt water pouring into his body. It stings, it stings, it stings but –

It’s a coup de burst. If there’s no air to use, he’ll use the water. 

(It burns, but Franky once took a melding iron to his skin and never looked back. This is nothing.)

A second, two, precious when Luffy is still sinking, still drowning, here in his arms.

Three.

Franky grips tight to his captain, and rockets upward. Water presses against his face, trapping him, wanting him to stay in the waves, stay in her embrace, welcome him and the person who ate of the devil with opening arms, but Franky has a dream. 

His captain has a dream. 

He won’t stop now. 

Luffy’s face lolls against his shoulder, unconscious, unalive here in the dark waters. Hang on, Franky wills, desperation aching in scrap metal bones.

Then –

Glimpses of something lighter, a grey instead of black, illuminated by flashes of light. 

The surface! He thinks, triumphantly, and breaks the tumultuous, crashing surface with a thunderous, victorious gasp, sucking in air like a drowning man.

Which, to be fair, he almost was.

The air is wet and still rainy, the air mixed with water, choking him, but her forges onward, trying to find somewhere steady to breath. It’s hard.

In his arms, laid across his shoulder, Luffy still isn’t breathing.

And the Sunny isn’t anywhere insight. 

He doesn’t have the chance to check for a pulse, no flat surface to pound his captain’s chest back into breathing, so Franky does what he can. Luffy’s rubber, isn’t he? 

(Not in the water, something whispers.)

He can take it. 

Franky pulls his captain from his shoulder as waves push him up and down, giant swells carrying him across the sea, far away from their crew, far away from their ship. He takes his captain in his arms and crushes him, close to his, squeezing him and all the water in him out.

It takes two tries.

Two tries for the panic to set in.

Two tries for his captain to start breathing.

But – a choke, a gasp, and Luffy is moving, coughing out sea water against his back even as the waves swamp them, as the storm presses down, as everything, everything is too much.

Luffy is alive, breathing slowly against Franky’s chest, and they’re lost in a storm, in the middle of the Grand Line  -

But they’re safe.

They’re alive.

They’re breathing.

Super, Franky thinks, and focuses on keeping him and his captain alive.

-

When Franky was a child, he had drowned, once. Fallen off the rail tracks with a bag of tools and nails tied tight around his waist, too heavy for him to swim with, too heavy to do anything with. 

He had thought he was going to die then, without telling Tom how thankful he was, without telling Iceburg he was actually kind of cool, without teaching Yokozuna how to swim or Kokoro how to make a super cola float. It weighed on him, then, the absence of a  dream achieved.

Then – Tom had wrapped his arms around him, dragging him upward, upward, upward, with sturdy arms and reassurance, with a heartbeat resting next to Franky’s head. He had had fear in his eyes – it’s a look Franky will never forget. A look of fear, terror, absolute love. 

You frightened me, Franky, Tom had told him that night as Franky rested against his side. Frightened me. Never do that again. 

Franky hadn’t – not till a train was coming towards him with his father on it, slashing him to pieces and leaving him to sink on an isle of scrap. 

Now – Now Franky isn’t thirteen and terrified of water anymore. Now, Franky is 34 and desperate, cradling his captain in his arms, half swallowed by the sea. 

He wonders, looking at Luffy, if. Luffy would see the same eyes in Franky that Franky saw in Tom. If he would see the fear and desperation, the terror, the love Franky has for his captain, even as Franky risks life and limb for his captain.

(It’s not much for a man who is made of metal rather than flesh, but it’s all he can give.)

The waves have calmed around them, swells dying down to gentle ocean waves, a miracle in the Grand Line. It’s still drizzling, but the last of he storms have disappeared.

For now, at least.

It’s still the Grand Line.

Franky still isn’t sure how he managed to survive the storm, managed to keep his legs moving and Captain secure. He’s attributing it to some minor miracle now, some moment of truth, some blessing – something like his captain, and the wonderful order he pulls the world into, like a final piece clicking into a well-oiled machine. 

He’s floating now, carefully inhaling enough air to keep him more buoyant, careful above the waves, arms spread eagle and captain laid out on his chest. He shifts, trying to keep Luffy out of the water as much as possible, but his hands and feet still trail in the water. 

(The straw hat hasn’t left Franky’s neck, though it has shifted to his front. He’s too afraid to shift it, to let it go.)

The water takes a lot out of him, Franky knows. Like Luffy had just used all his gears, all in an instant, all dragging him down. He’s lethargic after baths, eyes sleepy, body sluggish until he dries off.  

Luffy’s quiet now. The only sound Franky can hear that of his breaths, puffed against his chest, the sound of his own inner mechanisms, and the waves, lapping at his side. It’s not right.

His captain shouldn’t be this sluggish. This quiet. Franky shouldn’t be this useless.

But he’s alone in the middle of the ocean, with nothing but his own body to use, useless. Useless.

(He’s only been useless once in his life, unable to do anything has his parents tossed him overboard. Even with the train, he had been able to stand. Been able to fight.

Here?

Nothing.) 

He misses the Sunny. Staring up into the drizzling rain, he misses his ship, his crew, his family. His misses his captain, he misses solid deck beneath his feet he just… misses not having to wait. 

That’s all there is now, though.

Waiting, and waiting, and waiting, just for the ship to –

A stirring on his chest.

“Mhm… Fran… Franky?”

“Luffy!” Franky shouts, craning his head to see his captain blinking blearily on his chest. Luffy’s eyes are hazy but slowly locking on Franky. “You’re awake!”

“Wah – Franky? Where... where are we?” Luffy lifts his head, trying to view Franky himself, before thumping down on Franky’s chest, too tired to keep himself up. 

Franky drifts his hand up, letting the waves ripple to rustle Luffy’s hair. “Out at sea, waiting for the Sunny, Bro! You went overboard in the storm.”

Luffy blinks twice, before letting out a quiet “Oh.”

He slumps down on Franky’s chest, still tired, still exhausted, and Franky thinks that’s the end of it. He contemplates sending up a plume of fire, a flare, but realizes that would be useless with no ship in sight. 

Then –

“You saved me.” Luffy says, voice stronger but sentence simple. “From the water. Thank you.”

Something in Franky’s chest constricts. He remembers watching Zoro dive in to save his captain, coming out soaking wet and Luffy clinging like a limpet. Remembers Sanji throwing shoes aside and placing drinks down in an instant to lunge overboard, entering the water in a perfect swan dive. Remembers countless saves, drags out of the ocean, chests pressed and breathes giving, each to save their captain from a watery grave.

Franky remembers.

But never- never has that look been directed at him. 

It’s – trust. Affection. Adoration. Surprise - for saving his own captains life. A look that should never have crossed his captain’s face, who selfishly selflessly gives his blood and bones and life and will to his crew without a second thought.

Past the tightness in his throat, Franky manages to choke out a “No problem bro! You’re the captain! ‘Course I gotta save you!”

He attempts to strike his signature pose, almost toppling them both into the sea as it does. Luffy laughs though, stumbling himself upward to sit on Franky’s stomach, feet crossed and finally out of the water now that he is conscious. He smiles down at Franky, bright as the sun even as rain drizzles down on him. “Shishishi!”

(Suddenly, Franky is glad Luffy didn’t see his face then, half drowning, and fully terrified. He wants the endless faith Luffy has in his crew – faith he knows he already has, but faith he still feels he has to earn.

His captain is 17, with a dream of the world on his shoulders. He deserves nothing but the best from Franky, and if that best is the super! protective shipwright that Franky knows he can be then – 

That’s what Luffy is going to get.)

They drift for a bit, Luffy settling on Franky’s chest and starting to chatter endlessly, Franky keeping them afloat with careful moments. A sea king approaches, slammed down with a single fist from Luffy, echoed by Franky’s shout of super shot bro! 

It’s still raining, but the drizzle seems to be lessening. Franky is soaked and Luffy is too, but instead of the fear of the waves and storm, the fear of being lost forever at sea, there’s just peace.

“Shishishi! Franky! I’m glad I got stuck out here with you!”

“Yeah bro?”

“Yeah! Being alone hurts the worst, but when I’m with you guys I’m never alone! Shishishi!” Luffy says, carefree smile despite the words that fall from his lips. Franky’s smile freezes on his face but before he can ask what Luffy means by that, Luffy starts shouting, jumping up on Franky’s stomach and almost rocking them over. “LOOK! THE SUNNY! GUYS!!! GUYS!! OVER HERE!!!”

Franky grabs on to his ankles, shocked out of his crisis. “Woah! Hang on, bro!” But Luffy’s right – in the distance, floating before them, small but most definitely there – is the Sunny. 

They’re saved. 

Saved.

And Franky knows what he’s going to do now. He takes the straw hat from his neck and sets it down on Luffy’s head with a ruffle before giving Luffy a devilish grin. “Hang on tight, bro!” Luffy gives a laugh, and grips hard to Franky’s chest. And with that, Franky sucks in another breath, larger, just like he used to explode out of the sea, using the last of his cola and – 

“COUP DE BOO!”

They’re flying, flying, flying, soaring through the air with sea spray around them, sun finally peeking through the sky, Luffy laughing with Franky and –

It’s beautiful.  

They land perfectly on the deck, to screams of joy from the crew. Luffy bounces off of Franky chest into the waiting arms of the crew, gathering each of them in long rubbery arms. There’s still the dregs of fatigue on him, etches of sunburn on his cheeks, and Franky, even with synthetic skin, is no different. Still – Franky clings tight.

They’re safe, they’re home, and Zoro is standing upright without that look of desperation, now that Luffy is clinging to his arm, and Luffy looks vibrant and loud instead of gentle and peaceful so –

Everything… everything is alright. 

(Five weeks later, Franky finds himself alone and burnt, newspaper in hand with that awful, terrible, terrified look on his face, the kind he never wanted Luffy to see, the kind he saw on Tom’s face. 

Being alone hurts the worst! Echoes in Franky’s mind, and he can’t, he can’t he can’t – Luffy is alone. 

And this time, Franky is useless to save him.) 

[egelantier]

Tian Guan Ci Fu

where is it and what is it

it’s a chinese webnovel by mxtx, the same author who did untamed; it exists as a webnovel, finished and kindly translated here, the manhwa, the donghua (animated adaptation) happening right now, and there’s a live action adaptation in plans, directed by the same guy who did untamed. the donghua is gorgeous, the adaptation i’m unsure about but prepared to be hopeful, the manhwa seems to be very pretty. but all the adaptations only cover the very beginning of the novel for now, so i went ahead and read the novel, and i have no regrets. it helps that the translation is very good - not without awkward translatorese, but it has consistent and engaging flow and style, and it’s also pretty good at conveying mxtx’s humor without awkwardness. it reads pretty well.

what’s it about?

the world is split into two parts: mortals and various ghosts and demons and entities share the land, while ‘heaven officials’, aka gods, live in the heavenly kingdom in the sky. pretty much anybody can become a god if they do something really heroic or memorable and/or cultivate (meditation, training, virtuous behavior) really hard. when above, the gods rule their domains and fulfill their believers’ wishes; they work sort of like pratchettian gods, dependent on their followers’ beliefs and getting influenced by them. heavens are strictly hierarchical, with their own economy and pecking order, and the gods aren’t particularly sinless or benevolent; mostly it’s a question of scale.

our hero, xie lian, is a prince of a prosperous kingdom who’s been on a fast track to ascension for most of his very short life; he’s talented, he’s virtuous, he’s kind, he’s strong, and his only peculiar flaw is (somehow naive, but well-meaning) obsession with equality and value of human lives and so on. he becomes a god, unexpectedly, at seventeen, after slaying one especially dangerous god, and rises in heaven at the peak of his faith, influence and happiness.

…and then he finds out about drought and incipient trouble in his own kingdom, and, being a young and righteous god too close to his mortality, eschews heavens and returns to save everybody. it, to put it lightly, does not go well. at all. in fact, it goes catastrophically wrong, and, having lost everything, xie lian ascends again, only to get into a fight with the heavenly emperor, and get banished again, this time for good. he roams the mortal lands for next eight hundred of very lonely, luckless and hard years, technically immortal but not invincible, with his powers and his luck stripped away, and leans to make do, eking out a living as a scrap collector. his temples are desecrated, his name is forgotten, his kingdom is long gone, and - well. so it goes.

so it goes! until one day, to everybody’s great surprise, he ascends once again: a humble, gentle, immune to embarrassment, unflappable man, an embarrassment to heavens, a 'laughingstock of three realms’ who just wants to be left well enough alone. he’s Tired.

instead of rest, he gets sent to investigate a dangerous ghost stealing brides who pass through its mountain, and there, during the course of the interrogation, has his first (he thinks) meeting with a terrifying, old-powerful and vengeful ghost king named hua cheng, who likes to terrorize heavens from time to time. but said ghost king seems to be very benevolent and very interested in helping xie lian, and xie lian is pretty instantly smitten… with knowing what’s the cause of such interest.

…and meanwhile, in the beginning, there'was an unlucky boy, born under the worst stars, whom xie lian saved from falling once, while still mortal, and promptly lost track of. a lot of things happened to this boy, who wanted to be the most devoted worshipper to xie lian the god of the sword and the flower. as one does, you know.

that’s the beginning! from there on: investigations, heavenly secrets, old friends and enemies and acquaintances, thematic parallels, old tragedies, more pining than you can shake a stick at, grand acts of love.

is it good?

it’s very, very good. it’s the first fantasy cnovel i read (aside from the hilarious one about a guy traveling back in his own timeline and becoming a sugar baby to a mafia boss, which was in a very different league), so i don’t know which things are baseline and which things are unique, but it had a very solid foundation: ambitious multilevel, multi-timeline plot coming together in the end both events- and emotions-wise, beautifully iddy main relationship, maybe multifaceted characters who change and grow and clash together in fun ways, a clear and heartfelt understanding of its own core themes.

it’s also, unexpectedly, very funny, in this visual, slapsticky, begs-to-be-adapted way - i found myself laughing out loud over it a lot of times, and it possesses this gift of swerve between understated but earnest emotions and all-out jokes that i associate with… a bit of prattchett and a bit of gintama, honestly. take it as you will.

(oh my god the mecha. i will laugh over this one until i die.)

it also made me cry several times; granted, it’s not like it’s this time, but those were very heartfelt tears.

and the main duo?

first let me say that xie lian was lifted out, wholesale, out of my deepest character preferences. he fell really, really far, and did some bad things, and some very horrible things were done to him, and by the time we meet him he went through everything and achieved this effortless kind of traumatized, humble, accepting, wryly self-deprecating, utterly competent chill that makes a character incredibly appealing to me. he’s kind, and he’s sweet, and he’s gotten any possible embarrassment at least a couple of centuries ago, and he kinda made peace with himself and kinda didn’t. i love him.

and, thankfully for me, hua cheng, the ghost king, loves him a whole damn lot, a ridiculous amount, an epic, over-the-lifetimes, life-shattering amount, and he’s a terrifying presence to everybody else and a shy, protective, sweet dork to xie lian, and every time they’re together on page my entire heart is just. it’s AMAZING. he’s a great combination of playing the obsessive protective yandere stalker-lover trope straight and putting it on its head, by making hua cheng not just revere but respect xie lian, in all his good and bad decisions.

they are just so - good for each other, holy shit. they get each other so well. they’re the best ever power team. i love them.

(the rest of canon is various character reenacting “really? in front of my salad?” meme at them. it’s hysterical, and it’s the best. everybody teams up to tell xie lian that his boyfriend is Problematic way, way before xie lian clues into the fact that he does have a boyfriend, and he’s having none of it. i love it.)

and the themes?

okay, so. roughly half of this novel is ridiculous iddy pining, and a fourth of it is various tropes (off the top of my head: soulbond, sex pollen, body switch, de-age, various shades of identity porn… crossdressing…) played very shamelessly. but it also really benefits from having an overarching set of ethical questions, and while it deals with them a bit shounen-style, it still deals with them, and it makes the whole text fresh, and sweet, and bold.

is it possible to save everybody? should you try to save everybody? if you lack the powers to back your convictions, does it make you complicit? when is it possible to stop the cycle of suffering, what can you do if you want to but can’t? if you tried and people you failed turned on you, whose fault it is, where does the blame stop?

Detailed spoilers begin from here, and i would REALLY advise to stay unspoiled, because the domino reveals are very fun

i loved the various ways the novel sets all those pieces up and then overturns them and then returns to them. xie lian wanted to save everybody and it was arrogant naivete of an untried, untested, privileged young man who never had a real challenge before; his presence made things escalate quicker, and yet everybody around him pretended it was his attempt to make things better that ruined everything, and not a combination of factors outside of his control. and yet he accepts the blame, because it dovetails with his shame at not having enough powers to back his intent up; and yet his triumph over bai wuxian is that he doesn’t, after all, renege on his initial drive to help people.

my most favorite part of this novel is that its turning point, the lynchpin of the whole novel, the moment that keeps xie lian’s soul and safety intact, is not his personal purity and drive; it’s not even hua cheng’s devotion and sacrificial love. it’s just a moment of little, grudging, human kindness from a little, petty, rude man whom the history will sweep away soon. the bamboo hat in the rain. the rest of the plot keeps twisting and turning and coming back to itself, but this? this was unquestionably, beautifully clear, and i loved it. it’s never about the gods, it’s all down to - fallen human is human, ascended human is human, and human is not some state, virtuous or sinful, you get stuck with - it’s a multitude of choices, and there’s never a final one.

and incoherent spoilery screaming for people who read it already

oh my god i had SO MUCH FUN. i’ve been flailing on meme for days, because somebody just finished reading there too, and i’m still bursting with ALL THE FEELS. ruoye origins oh my god! that hat! jin wu’s backstory and ultimate end! e-ming’s praise kink! pei ming’s little shippery 'hoho’! hua cheng’s horribly handwritten stick and poke tattoo of xie lian’s name! the lanteeeeeeeeeeeeerns. feng xin and mu qing on the bridge, making up with each other and with xie lian! hua cheng trying to explain to xie lian that his habit of using himself as bait and pincushion at any given moment is deeply emotionally upsetting to him, and succeeding! banyue’s learning from xie lian to be a truly horrible cook! the entire deal with shi qingxuan and he xuan and the wind fan in the end. THE CAVE. THE GIANT MECHA. aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa and aaaaaaaaaaaaa and aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa and i am beset, beset by feelings. come scream with me.

[nibeul]

Saberstaffs: A Guide for People Creating Jedi/Sith OCs

I posted this on Instagram a while ago but I figured I should post it here too! This is basically my analysis of saberstaffs paired with some history and extra info. I’m by no means an expert, just a SW weapons nerd who enjoys rambling about things, bonus if people find it helpful :) most of the general info is backed by the wookiee for anyone curious to give it a look

The History

Saberstaffs are rare among the Order, and while a decent amount of it has to do with how hard it is to master, its origins also play a part in this fact. Originally known as the “Sith Lightsaber”, saberstaffs were created by the Old Sith Empire (as the name suggests), serving as weapons of aggression with the ability to easily overwhelm and overpower. The design had been pretty much unheard of until it was wielded by Exar Kun during the Great Sith War, the fallen Jedi having modified his original lightsaber using schematics from Sith Holocrons he had found. It was forgotten shortly after, trading off from hand to hand before eventually making its way to the Order for safe keeping (this is obviously a very simple explanation since I don’t want to dwell on it too much). The design became popularized among the Sith during the Jedi Civil War, and was even wielded by some skilled Jedi, though the Council frowned upon its use as the staff was a weapon of aggression purely designed to kill more effectively than the standard saber. The Order’s prejudice against the weapon remained a constant even into the waning days of the Republic, and as a result, very few Jedi utilized it. By the time the Invasion of Naboo rolled around, they’d faded into almost complete obscurity, so you can imagine the surprise of Qui Gon and Obi Wan when Maul pulled one out.

Schematics

The original saber staffs were much more complicated than the ones seen during the Clone Wars, consisting of a singular lightsaber mechanism that had two emitters, Exar Kun’s modified staff fitting this design. The more modern staffs, such as Maul’s, were made up of two, standard lightsabers that were melded together at the pommel in order to form one, elongated hilt. I’m actually not sure what the exact reasoning for the simplification was since the original was more effective, though I assume it has to do with the loss of the original holocrons and a change in wielding styles as the years progressed. The Council was right though in the fact that they were made for better effectiveness in combat; two ends meant faster attacks, and rapid assaults could be dealt out by the wielding with minimum movement. On the flipside, it was also good for defense—specifically in dueling, I’ll get to combat against blasters later—because it covered more area with less effort. There was also a psychological impact that comes with most unorthodox weapons, as tracking two blades is obviously a lot harder than one, and either end was often thought of as separate weapons instead of one.

Of course, there were still weaknesses, and with great killing power came debilitating flaws if put in the wrong hands. Wielding a staff without training was fatal in most cases, and it was likely that an inexperienced user would slash or bisect themselves trying to utilize one. A prime example of this comes from Antos Wyrick who accidentally impaled both himself and his daughter when trying to kill her. The minimum movement needed also came at a cost when it came to attacking and parrying because it’s impossible to simply adjust positions, as someone using a standard blade might. The sun djem contact mark could be employed by an opponent with little experience, and due to the length of the hilt, it’s hard to defend against. The best comparison to a saberstaff in terms of modern weapons would be the quarterstaff, though it’s not completely adequate because there’s only so much area for the user to put their hands whereas a quarterstaff, you have the entire length. The weight is also different as the weight of any lightsaber is condensed at the hilt while a quarterstaff’s weight would be evenly spread throughout it. Because the user’s hands have to be positioned at the general center of the weapon at all times (the hilt), power that would be possible with a quarterstaff is lost with the saberstaff.

Wielding Styles/Forms

Next, we have a breakdown of wielding styles, and to do this I’m going to be using Maul and Krell.

Maul

There’s apparently some controversy over what lightsaber Form Maul uses, though based on what I’ve seen from the show and the movie, I think that Juyo is the closest form to compare his fighting style too. Maul’s lightsaber is an extension of his body; he was raised for one thing, and that was to kill Jedi. He is, in the simplest sense, a killing machine, and his fighting style is reflective of that, martial arts interwoven with his strikes and parries, etc. etc. Maul, while obviously capable of defense, is a very aggressive, offensive fighter, and this is abundantly clear in his duels against Ahsoka, Obi Wan, Qui Gon… I’m sure there are videos floating around for each of the duels, I recommend giving them a rewatch if you’re curious. His power comes from his hips, and he relies on straight up striking power and prowess in combat in order to overwhelm his opponents. His style is pretty similar to how one would wield a quarterstaff, which is incredibly effective when it comes to melee combat against one or multiple opponents, but an open battlefield is a different story.

The biggest problem for Maul’s fighting style when applied to an open battlefield is the lack of maneuverability and the uncovered area that makes up the hilt of the staff. In a lightsaber duel, he has full coverage of his body since the blades are pretty one dimensional (I’m not sure if that’s the right word to use, but I’m using it anyways) while against blasters, there’s more open, uncovered area that he’s not going to be able to defend. I don’t recall seeing a lot of blaster vs lightsaber action with Maul, not when it came to his staff anyways, so it’s hard to determine what he’s capable of when it comes to that. I’m just applying what I’ve seen to a hypothetical situation—the bottomline is that Maul is likely a more effective duelist than anything else, and his use of the saberstaff plays into that strength.

Krell

Krell—who I know you all love—uses Jar’kai and I want to say hints of Form V based on his aggressive way of fighting while also on the defensive against dozens of clones. We unfortunately didn’t see a lot of fighting from Krell until he was slaughtering the 501st and 212th, so I don’t have a whole lot to work with here, but I do know that he used the Force in tandem with his staffs which was something that was made easier by the fact that he had four arms. Unlike Maul, Krell doesn’t face the problem of lack of coverage when it comes to fighting on the battlefield—because of his anatomy, he’s able to fully rotate the blades in a manner that covers him entirely, though something important to note about that is the change in power. The power from his strikes come almost entirely from his arms, which is clearest when he’s fighting the clones up in the tower. He’s able to cut through men without putting a huge focus on power, 1) because he’s already naturally strong and 2) because of the reach of his lightsabers. He’s outnumbered, but his sheer combative prowess with his lightsabers allows him to keep an edge during the entirety of the fight until he’s ultimately taken down by Tup.

I think the most important thing to note about Krell is that he constantly makes space, which is a tactic commonly used by staff users specifically (it’s also used when handling other weapons of course, though that’s when it comes to multiple opponents; with a staff, you constantly want space so you can strike from afar). He makes space to prevent himself from getting overrun even when severely outnumbered, and this tactic allows him to employ the deadliness of his lightsabers on an open battlefield, whereas Maul would have more trouble doing so thanks to the differences in their fighting style. Because I haven’t seen Krell in a duel, it’s hard to say how he would combat someone else with a melee weapon, though I want to say it’s likely similar to Grievous’s way of fighting. The sheer amount of blades he holds makes it easy to overwhelm an opponent, and because of his stature, he doesn’t have a need for extreme power behind each swing, which allows better maneuverability (as we see when he’s spinning his lightsabers).

General Pros and Cons

So, I’ll just finish this off with the main pros and cons after breaking everything down and giving my input.

Strengths:

• Offensive and defensive capabilities

• Faster attack rate

• Bigger surface area for deflecting/parrying

• Unorthodox/Uncommon

Weaknesses:

• Hard to store

• Exposed hilt

• Dangerous to user

• Often requires both hands to wield

In general, staffs are best for characters who are older with more than a couple years of training under their belt due to how hard it is to master and the dangers of inexperience. These characters tend to be heavily combat focused since the staff was pretty much made for killing. However, this is just a general breakdown I did for fun, so don’t let that stop you from giving your characters whatever weapons you see fit :)

[rheallsim]

Who will be the last sim standing? Place your bets now…!

Thousands applied, but only eight were chosen… these are the sims hoping to be the Last Sim Standing!

Deep in the Strangerville Desert lies a derelict plane, left exposed to the elements since it crashed there of unknown causes over fifty years ago. The rusted remains of sun-bleached metal hide a dark secret, however… deep beneath the wreck lies a massive complex filled with dastardly tasks meant to challenge our contestants to determine- through luck and sheer force of will- which one is worthy of the title of Last Sim Standing.

But more on the compound later. Just what is it these sims are competing for?

It’s not just glory that awaits them, though that would definitely be enough of a prize on its own. The winner will also receive §1,000,000 (tax-free!), a lavishly furnished mansion in Del Sol Valley, and the chance to live out their lives as they see fit in the background of a frequently played save file. What more could a sim ask for? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Without further ado, let’s meet our eight contestants! Like our compound, many of them also hide dark secrets of their own. They are…

1: Mimi LeBeurre​

Mimi is a neat, erratic foodie with a passion for baking. Don’t let her sweet looks fool you though… not all who have tasted her goodies survived it… She’s a tough cookie and ready to rock this challenge!

(Sim and blurb by @kimbr3)

2: Penelope Garcia

Her official title is “Technical Analyst”, but some say her talents are better suited to more… anonymous pursuits. Under the alias “The Black Queen” she used her hacking skills to reroute millions of dollars from shady off-shore corporate accounts into the coffers of charities and non-profits. Some call her a modern-day Robin Hood, but they don’t know about the hundreds of thousands she skimmed to line her own pockets (and fund her obsessive Funko Pop collection)… She managed to avoid jail-time by becoming a consultant for the FBI, and now uses her skills to track down and convict cyber criminals just like herself. She’s become the thing she once hated most, but she seems totally fine with that.

(Sim by ACMWhitney (Origin ID), blurb by me.)

3: Rufus Dunbrow​

If there’s a health fad out there, Rufus was probably a part of it at one point. Juicing? Been there. Enemas? He’s had so many he’s lost a lot of feeling down there and now needs to wear adult diapers to bed. Detoxifying, cleansing, miracle pills, homeopathic cure-alls, IV “therapies”… he’s done it all, so much so that if he donated his body to science they’d probably turn it down.

It may be obvious, but he’s obsessed with his body image. This has lead him in recent years to start working out; a noble goal, except the results weren’t as instantaneous as he would have liked. So, he got a little help from a friend- and their magic syringe filled with steroids, hormones, and other chemicals- to help him instantly “bulk up”.

He probably couldn’t lift a baby if you asked him, but hey, at least he looks good. He spends his time strutting around trying to pick people up at the beach in Del Sol Valley. He’s rarely successful, but that doesn’t stop him from trying. Who wouldn’t want a ride on the Dunbrow Train to Boneville?

(Sim by @shoobysims, blurb by me.)

4: Kristie Sewell​

This is Kristie. She’s a “famous” simstagram model who thinks the world revolves around her and she’s allowed to do anything just because she has a couple followers. Her traits are snob, mean and jealous and she really acts like it!

She’s a vegan but doesn’t realize that vegans shouldn’t wear real fur, she also eats chicken because it’s “not real meat”. She wears dreads and will bring up vikings when you try to educate her about cultural appropriation. She also wears a saree as formal wear because her simdian yoga guru said “You can wear anything you want!” and she didn’t realize he meant she could wear any athletic wear for the yoga class.

She uses slurs on the regular and if you call her out on any of this? She will post a teary-eyed snapchat non-apology rant and if you don’t accept that as an apology she’ll claim that you’re just jealous of her.

(Sim and blurb by @mooodlet)

5: Jacob Daramus​

This is Jacob. How to describe him? An outdoor enthusiast, avid mountaineer, kombucha master, possibly a serial killer…

Well, many who have gone mountain climbing with him have never returned. He claims it’s just a coincidence, but locals think differently.

Who knows, maybe all the hardships of this challenge will loosen his lips, and he will confess his crimes.

He’s innocent until proven otherwise.

(Sim and blurb by @bakersimmer)

6: Monica Rawls

Monica always loved animals. Growing up on a farm in the boonies meant she was always surrounded by them. Whenever she found a sick or injured animal she would bring it home and beg her parents to let her nurse it back to health. Despite her good intentions, however, few of her charges ever made a full recovery… and being a good farmer’s daughter, she always thought: “Why let them go to waste?” 🤔

Nowadays she self-publishes a cookbook on how to make that perfect “Memorial Meal” for your pet- after they’ve passed, of course. From Parakeet Parmesan to Rotisserie Horse Legs, she’s got you covered for when the only way to move on from the loss of your pet is to make them into a Grand Meal worth remembering.

(Sim by by TheTazzaful (Origin ID), blurb by me.)

7: Kellissa Miller​

Kelly Miller always thought she was too good for college. So, she dropped out, changed her name to Kellissa - with two L’s and two S’s, she’ll get mad if you misspell it - and went to pursue her true goal: being famous. She’s tried some acting, singing, playing instruments, but so far nothing. It’s not only the lack of talent: surprisingly, she’s quite a decent musician, but her personality… Oh, she’s rally nice and friendly. As long as you don’t stand in her spotlight. You DO NOT wanna stand in her spotlight. When she heard somebody was organizing a Last sim standing challenge, she had to sign in: becoming famous is worth dying for!

(Sim and blurb by @oswanily)

8: Milo Rees​

Milo Rees is the son of two extremely rich and wealthy sims who appears to be a successful artist. One problem, though… he doesn’t actually want to do any of the work needed to be an artist. He just wants to party and enjoy the finer things in life without having to work for them, so his parents forge artworks for him and sell them under his name. Honestly, his number one reason for signing up for this challenge is that it gets his parents off his back about actually working on his painting skills for a while.

(Sim and blurb by @blackfern)

Those are our contestants! Which begs the question… who do you think will be the Last Sim Standing?

Vote here!

(You won’t win anything if you guess correctly, I’m just super interested in who the fan favourite will be. :D You can vote as often as you like, no restrictions!)

The game starts soon… ⏱

[Review the challenge rules here!]

[dialovers-translations]

DIABOLIK LOVERS MORE, MORE BLOOD Vol.12 Mukami Ruki [Track 1]

Original title: あの方より

Source: Diabolik Lovers More, More Blood Vol. 12 Mukami Ruki [CD not owned by me]

Audio: Here

Seiyuu: Takahiro Sakurai

Translator’s note: Another MMB CD where the hourglass ends up in the hands of the MC. However, this one seems to play out a little different from Yuma’s because (at first glance) Ruki seems ignorant to time rewinding. I do have my suspicions about this though, and I actually do expect him to reveal that he realized all along at some point. He definitely is cunning enough to hide such a thing, unlike Yuma who would blow his own cover right away. xD I also feel like Ruki is a little more sadistic in this than I expected, but I guess I’ve become soft from translating Bloody Bouquet & Para-Selene CDs. ;w; The part where he tells the MC to eat her food off the floor had me going ‘OOF’. 

Track 1 ll Track 2 ll Track 3 ll Track 4 ll Track 5 + Epilogue

→  LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

Track 1: From that Individual

*Cling*

“Hm...”

You approach Ruki.

“Oh? It’s you. No, it’s nothing serious. I was simply lost in thought. You don’t have to talk while standing there (1), take a seat next to me.” 

You nod, sitting down next to him.

*Rustle*

“You seem curious. Are you that interested in this thing?”

*Cling*

“Blood red sand...Its decorations are beautiful as well. It would make for the perfect interior piece. However, this hourglass is beyond my powers. Even though it is something which was gifted to me by Karlheinz-sama...”

You seem surprised. 

“Did I not tell you? I was visiting the Demon World with my other siblings up until the other day. That’s when I received this from him. It contains magical energy.”

*Thud*

“It is a mysterious object, don’t you think? As you can see, the sand does not drop down even if you flip it over like this. However, if you turn it around while making a wish, the sand will fall. At the same time, time will rewind.”

Your eyes widen in shock. 

“Aah, right. Time will go back according to the wishes of its user. Furthermore, it is not a simple rewind. If they so wish, the user can return to the past with their memories intact. It can be a terrifying tool.”

*Cling*

“Why did he give this to me? He might be testing me, curious to see how I will use this. Or perhaps, he is simply playing with me? Worrying about it will not lead me to the right answer.”

Ruki turns his head towards you. 

“How would you use it?”

You point to yourself. 

“Yes, you. If you were able to rewind time, how would you utilize it?”

You ponder for a second before suddenly raising your head. 

“Seems like you thought of a way to use it. I feel like a rash person such as yourself would do a much better job at utilizing it than me, who always overcomplicates things. It might not be bad to give it a test. I shall leave this in your care for a while.”

You seem hesitant.

“I am interested to see how you would use it. For one, I doubt I would remember if you were to rewind time. ...Use it cautiously, okay? If you accidentally trigger it by a slip of the hand, a punishment shall not be the only thing waiting for you.”

Ruki tries to hand it to you and it nearly falls from your hand.

*Rustle*

*Cling*

“...!!”

The hourglass falls on the floor.

“...Haah. That was close. I doubt that was enough to break it though...”

*Rustle*

“Listen. Don’t ever let it slip from your fingertips again, okay? Grip onto it tightly.”

*Cling* 

“You made me break out in a cold sweat. I also dropped the book I had been enjoying. You must really love burdening me.”

You immediately move to pick up the book. 

“Do not panic. I do not mind if you pick it up, but when you rush like that...”

*Rustle*

“Hm...Take a look at your feet. What are you stepping on?”

You look down, immediately stepping back in surprise. 

“You claim to want to pick it up, yet you trample all over the book instead. Such a fearless thing to do, knowing it is one of the favorites amongst my collections. I cannot call that a very smart move to make.”

You apologize.

“Your words of regret are of no value. If you wish to make it up to me, there are other ways to do so, no? Let me tell you right now, buying a brand-new copy is impossible. They stopped printing a long time ago after all. Furthermore, a refund is beyond your financial capacities as well. Which means...There is only one way you can atone for your crimes, right?”

Ruki suddenly pins you down.

*Rustle*

*Thud*

“You did not let go of it this time, did you? Look at you go. I was fullly expecting you might just throw it into the air the second I pushed you over, but it seems that for a livestock, you at least have something going on in that head of yours. However...You made a blunder. You have to be punished for that.”

*Rustle*

“I am giving you a chance to atone. Why not rejoice? Well then...Where would you like my fangs? Try pointing it out yourself to lower the burden on your Master.”

You shake your head. 

“You can’t? Seems like you are a bad learner, no matter how many times I discipline you. I am fairly certain I should have taught you that the punishment will only become more severe, the more you fight back?

*Rustle*

“You leave me with no other choice. Tonight, I shall take my time to re-educate you thoroughly. I shall give pain to these mannerless feet. No, I suppose that is not enough. I shall discipline every part of your body one by one. Until you are covered in my bite marks from head to toe.”

You beg for his mercy.

“You are the one who messed up, no? If you can cower in fear now, become a little more clever instead. Things always turn out like this, because you are unable to do so.”

*Rustle*

“How about I pierce through the palm of your hand first? What do you say? Shall I sink in my fangs deeply, puncturing your skin?”

*Smooch

You flinch.

“Or perhaps...Do you prefer if I bite your fingerstips one by one? I assume the pain would prevent you from holding anything for a while. When you’re having a meal or trying to get changed, your fingertips would throb in pain...Don’t you think it is perfect to make you realize your own foolishness?”

You protest, claiming it would be highly inconvenient. 

“What are you saying? It would not be troubling at all. If you want to eat that badly, you could simply get down on all fours and eat it off the floor. I’d be so kind to put your plate there. Ah, but I would not want to be responsible for having you drop the hourglass because of it. I suppose I shall spare your hands for now. Hm...”

*Rustle*

“Instead, I shall make do with your arm instead. Look closely. This is training. You better regret the blunder you committed.”

Ruki bites you.

*Sluuuurp*

“Mm...Nn...Haah...Heh. For being frightened, you sure cry out sweetly. Finding enjoyment in punishment means you are even below livestock, but I bit you stronger than usual, so I assume the pain must have been intense as well? Blood keeps on oozing out...”

*Smooch*

“...Your scrunched up face is not a bad sight. However, you don’t think this is the end, do you? ...I should have told you. That I shall train every part of your body one by one. Let us take a look at your feet next. This is the one which stepped on my book, right?”

He grabs your foot.

“Thursting my fangs inside at once will not teach you anything. I shall do it slowly, moving around different spots as I bite you. I assume the ankle or the shin would be quite painful. If I bite the back of your foot, you should even have a hard time walking. A perfect way to discipline you.”

*Smooch*

You squeak. 

“Is that your attempt at resisting? Utterly pointless.”

You clutch onto the hourglass.

*Cling*

“Hm? What are you doing? ...!! Don’t tell me...!”

You flip it around.

*Tick tock - Tick tock - Tick tock - Tick tock*

ーーー

“You made me break out in a cold sweat. I also dropped the book I had been enjoying. You must really love burdening me.”

You seem surprised it actually worked.

“Oi...! Are you listening?”

You mutter that time rewinded.

“What are you talking about? What rewinded?”

You start to panic a little. 

“What a strange girl you are, suddenly making a fuss like that. Of course, this is not the first time your actions have left me puzzled. More importantly...”

Ruki picks up the book.

*Flip*

“It has not been damaged, it seems...While it happened as I tried to catch the hourglass, it was still careless of me to drop the book.”

*Flip*

“If you had somehow stepped on it, I would have not forgiven you so easily.”

You look at him, dumbfounded. 

“What’s the matter? You are making a weird face.”

You ask Ruki if he really doesn’t remember.

“What’s with that vague question? You are talking almost as if I am forgetting something. When exactly is this ‘earlier’ you speak of? What have I forgotten?”

You shake your head. 

“It is rather suspicious how you suddenly take back your words...Oh well, whatever. It’s you we’re talking about. Even if you are trying to keep a secret from me, I know you will give something away eventually. If you do not want me to find out, you better try your hardest to avoid any slip-ups. ...Or if you are thinking of using that hourglass, you better think the exact timing through. Understood?”

You nod.

“Well then. Let us get started with preparations for dinner. Before Kou and the others start quibbling. You should go get everything ready for tomorrow. Don’t come crying to me because you forgot your textbooks.”

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

Translation notes

(1) The Japanese language has this convenient term 立ち話 or ‘tachi-banashi’ which means talking to someone while standing.

[beewolfwrites]

And When I am Formulated, Sprawling on a Pin - Chapter Twenty-Four: And the Rest is Silence

And this is it: the final chapter! It’s been insane, but this is the only fanfiction I've ever finished before, and it wouldn’t have happened without all the support. Thank you so much!! I didn’t think anyone would read this, but seeing everyone’s reactions to each chapter has kept me going :D

I’m sorry for the essay, but I’m aware I didn’t post anything about this in the AIB tag. Yes, there will be a sequel!

I need to read the manga properly before writing it, so I don’t know when the sequel will start. But in the meantime, there’ll be a series of Chishiya one-shots of his perspective, and there’ll even be scenes that weren’t in this fic, plus an original game!

For the full fanfic, you can find it here on AO3. 

I’ll also be creating a master list, and I'll post the literature references after this for those who wanted them <3

Once again, thank you so much!! And I hope you enjoy this last chapter. 

------------------------------------------------

By the time Kuina found us again, it was already late afternoon, and even though our visas had extended by ten days after the Witch Hunt game, there was something about the setting of the sun that felt foreboding.

We lit up the furniture shop with candles and changed into the clean clothes we’d collected. Seeing Chishiya wearing ordinary clothes felt strange. Aside from when we’d crossed paths in the Tag game, the entire time I’d known him he’d been wearing swim shorts and flip flops.

Now, he emerged from the bathroom wearing grey sweatpants and a variegated blue cardigan that suited him perfectly. When his eyes flickered to mine, I realised I’d been staring, and distracted myself with preparing dinner instead. It wasn’t much, especially since all I had was canned goods and a camping stove, but the vegetable stew kept us warm while we curled up in our makeshift living room. As evening turned to night, however, it became obvious that something was missing.

There are no games.

Kuina chewed on her lip, looking out of the window. ‘What d’you think will happen when our visas run out?’

‘It probably has something to do with the Ten of Hearts,’ I told her. ‘Maybe there’s no need for games anymore, since we’ve got all the numbered cards.’

It didn’t bode well for us. If there were no games by the time our visas ran out, there was no chance of us getting out of the Borderlands. At least not alive.

As the night wore on, Kuina was the first to go upstairs. Covering her yawn with her hand, she waved goodnight and winked at me. I tried not to blush. Not that it made a difference, anyway. Chishiya was busying himself over a scrap of paper, and barely reacted when I smushed up by his side.

I frowned at the paper in his hand. ‘Isn’t that...’

‘Ah.’ He held it out so I could see it. ‘I took it from the tagger’s pocket.’ It was a drawing of a circle with squiggly lines, clearly a rushed sketch of something. In the middle of a line, the pen had stabbed a hole straight through.

‘What is it?’

‘Well, I have an idea,’ he said, but never elaborated.

Fighting the onset of sleep, I leaned my head against his shoulder, paying no mind to the way he tensed beneath me. The fabric of his cardigan was soft as down and made for a perfect pillow. ‘Aren’t you going to tell me?’

‘And if I don’t want to?’

I pushed my face into the fabric, pretending to settle in for the night. ‘Then I’ll just stay here and annoy you until your visa runs out.’

‘I have a feeling that won’t happen any time soon,’ he said, looking out the window.

And that was when I noticed it too. Midnight had passed by only a few minutes ago, yet there were no lasers. Did that mean the Borderlands were at a standstill? Were we stuck here permanently now? I wasn’t aware of how silent I had become, lost in my own thoughts, until Chishiya spoke up.

‘I believe it’s a map.’

My eyes slid to the drawing again. ‘And that hole in the paper, do you think that’s where the others are? The dealers, I mean.’

He shifted uncomfortably and I sat upright, conscious that I might have been unintentionally hurting or bothering him. Looking at the map properly, the lines could represent different interlocking pathways. If the marked place was a hideout of some kind, it couldn’t be in the open streets; there was too big a risk that a player might stumble upon it by accident.

So where...?

As soon as the idea came to mind, the words slipped out of my mouth. ‘The subway....’

He hummed in agreement. ‘I went to the nearest subway station this morning to check it against the real map. It’s a loose fit, but it works.’

I thought back to the second tagger – the crying woman – and how she’d been forced to participate in the game, donning an explosive collar. ‘Maybe if we find the place, we’ll get some answers.’

‘Probably,’ he said. ‘But I’m curious to see if anything changes within the next few days.’

‘Do you think we’ll hear something soon?’ I asked, yawning into my hand.

‘I believe we will.’ He gave me that same half-smile I had grown so used to. ‘But right now, I think you should go to sleep.’

Chishiya didn’t complain when I crawled into his bed. Like the night before, he kept his distance, but I could’ve sworn at times, when my sleeping became lighter throughout the night, I could feel fingers lightly touching my hair, only to pull back the moment I stirred. Over the next few days, it became the norm, and every night I would curl up on my side of the bed, slipping into calm dreams under the blue light of the window.

---------------------------------------------------

Despite the sunshine washing over the grey of the city, the stairs leading into Minami-Aoyama station descended into darkness. We’d checked and double-checked the drawing against the official subway map several times, but the idea of entering an abandoned station to uncover who knows what wasn’t inviting.

‘Are you sure this is it?’ Kuina asked for the third time.

I looked at the route map hanging over the station entrance, my eyes tracing the shape of the lines. ‘Positive.’

Folding her arms, Kuina went first. I waited for Chishiya to take a small torch from his pocket before following behind. The station was truly submerged in blackness, and if not for Chishiya’s torch, we would have easily become lost. He shone the beam at the paper in his hand, then held it up against each train line.

‘This way,’ he said, and walked towards the edge of the platform.

We hopped down onto the gravel below, using the metal tracks to guide us further into the tunnels. It was disconcerting to see the subway so empty, but with Kuina and Chishiya here, I felt safe somehow.

Several minutes in, Chishiya stopped abruptly, and I almost walked into him. If he reacted at all, I couldn’t see to tell. But he seemed more focused on something else, as he pointed the torch at a door that had been busted open.

‘That must be it.’ Kuina’s voice echoed.  

Without hesitation, Chishiya disappeared through the door, leaving Kuina and I in the darkness.

Chishiya?!

I panicked, arms waving as I tried to find something to hold onto. I heard Kuina hiss as we stumbled into each other and bumped elbows. Feeling around for the door frame, we managed to make our way inside, where Chishiya held his torch at us from further away.

‘Hey!’ Kuina snapped. ‘Don’t do that again! You’re the only one with a light here.’

‘Walk faster then,’ he said, waiting impatiently as we jogged over.

He shone the beam in the opposite direction, where it bounced off something. It was still too dark to tell just what, but as we walked forwards, everything became clearer. A structure lay ahead, with tunnels and walkways all leading into a giant room. Overhead, wires were strung across the ceiling, all feeding into the same place. We entered through one of the tunnels, and my heart jumped.

Televisions. They stared, black and empty, in rows and columns up the walls. But what was even more surprising was the setup right in front of us. It was an office, with papers, pen pots and coffee-stained mugs strewn about on desks. It would have looked like any other workplace, if not for the bodies draped in chairs and across the floor.

‘What... is this?’ I crouched to inspect the body of a man in a suit. Judging from its state, he had only died recently, but more importantly, there was a singed hole running through his head. He had been killed by a laser. ‘They’re not the ones in charge of the games.’

Chishiya closely inspected a desk. ‘Evidently not,’ he said, picking up a folded piece of paper and passing it to me. It was filled with numbers, some ticked off. Whoever it had belonged to was keeping track of their visa.

They’re playing games too, I thought. Or at least, they were.

‘So, these guys were the dealers.’ Kuina gingerly held up a sheet of paper with scribbles all over it. Upon closer inspection, they appeared to be odds. ‘They were betting on us,’ she said.  

A shiver ran along my skin. Of course, they had been watching us this whole time, that was expected. But to place bets on our survival was a whole other story. If the dealers were playing too, there must’ve been a separate system for them to extend their days. Perhaps how many people survived each game had some kind of impact on their visas.

A finger lightly brushed the back of my arm and Chishiya appeared beside me. ‘Momoka’s friend,’ I said, ‘she died right after she told everyone she was a dealer. And the taggers died because we won. I have a feeling their visas depended on whether or not we cleared each game... or maybe how many people didn’t make it.’

From his expression, I knew he had been thinking the same thing. ‘It doesn’t explain why they’re all dead now.’

I glanced around at the stiffened bodies slumped around us. ‘Actually, I have a bad feeling about that too.’

At that moment, a tap of footsteps echoed from the entrance. Chishiya instantly turned off his torch and tugged me into one of the tunnels. Kuina joined us and we hid, waiting. The footsteps grew louder, closer, and two torchlights waved through the darkness. I kept my eyes trained on the tunnel opposite as the footsteps paused.

‘Where is this place?’  

‘Who knows?’

With a sigh, I relaxed instantly.

Those two.

It had only been a few days since I had made peace with Arisu and Usagi, but I was glad to see them again. Arisu was cleaned up, his wounds well on the way to healing, while Usagi stared in amazement at the television screens around us.

Chishiya grazed past me as he moved out from under the shadows. ‘You actually found this place,’ he said. ‘As expected from someone I have high hopes for.’  

‘We meet again,’ Kuina said, walking around the desks to lean against the wall.

Arisu and Usagi’s eyes scanned the two of them before stopping at me. They looked visibly confused, probably wondering what I was doing with them after I’d told them I wasn’t involved in Chishiya’s setup. In an attempt at diffusing the awkwardness, I smiled and waved.

‘You guys,’ Usagi whispered. Her voice bordered on distrust, not that anyone could blame her.

I couldn’t tell whether Chishiya was trying to make things better or worse when he held up the full deck of cards and smiled. ‘Thanks to you guys, I have all the playing cards with me,’ he said. ‘Thank you.’

Arisu only looked at him cynically. ‘How did you discover this place?’

Chishiya rooted in his pocket and pulled out the drawing. ‘It took me some time to realise this is actually a map. The route map of the subway.’ He sauntered around the desks. ‘As for what happens when we collect the cards... I thought I would know the answer if I came here.’ His eyes jumped to mine. ‘But there’s something else we discovered instead.’

‘They’re not the gamemasters,’ Arisu said, eyes fixed on the bodies around us.

I stepped over a hand strewn across the floor. ‘カードを集めたので、殺された.’ Because we collected the cards, they were all killed. I struggled for a moment, trying to think of the right words. ‘There must be someone above them.’

Chishiya translated, and Usagi turned to me with worry. ‘But who?’

‘Who knows?’ Chishiya shrugged. ‘They might be aliens... or even God.’

The idea didn’t sound as strange as it should have done. We were in a world where lasers appeared from the sky, and death games were the norm. Even when I first arrived here, I’d wondered whether this was a form of judgement. Nothing was out of the question anymore.

Suddenly, the screens burst into life and white light flooded the room. I jumped, flocking to Chishiya and Kuina’s side.

Have we been caught?

Music reverberated all around us, and the screens displayed all four card suits, along with a message I couldn’t read. It didn’t matter though, as the voice that rang through the speakers was one I remembered well. My stomach dropped.

‘Congratulations to all players!’

The screens blurred until Mira’s wild eyes and subdued smile came into focus. It was now obvious why the Ten of Hearts had taken place at the Beach at the very moment things had fallen apart.

She must’ve been feeding information back, I thought. But back to where?

‘How interesting,’ Chishiya said. Seeking stability, I slipped a hand into his pocket. There was a slight hesitation before his fingers laced around mine.

Mira’s voice shook with a quiet excitement. ‘With the exception of the face cards, you’ve all cleared the numbered games and emerged as victors. It’s a sweet victory, gained by sacrificing so many lives.’ Her expression turned wistful as she stood. ‘I wonder, how many of your comrades have died. Try remembering those who were shot dead with guns.’

A single screen switched to show footage from a miscellaneous game. A group were stood, clutching their guns as they inspected the scatter of bodies across the ground.

They’ve been recording us.

‘And that girl you burned alive.’

A second display opened up, revealing several players watching on as a girl, engulfed in flames, struggled and clawed at her skin and clothes. I held my breath, Niragi’s animalistic cries ringing through my memory.

‘Those struck by lasers, and those that drowned.’

My eyes widened, and I gripped Chishiya’s hand as the inside of the furniture store appeared on-screen. The fractured image of myself flinched, quivering with shock, as the first man and Green Shirt leapt from their seats, only to crumple to the ground, lasers piercing them where they stood.

Chishiya’s fingers squeezed mine, and I gasped, blinking away the image. He must’ve seen it too.

‘Those who’s heads were blown off,’ Mira continued, dreamily. ‘Those comrades of yours, the despair you’ve felt so far, and those dying moments you’ll never forget.’

The screen changed once more, and from the corner of my eye, Arisu winced. Following his gaze, I recognized his partner from the Tag game, his neck exploding around a collar.

I’m so sorry....

Meanwhile, Mira’s expression shifted into pure, childlike delight. ‘Everyone... I’m so touched!’ She held her hand over her heart. ‘All of you players, we’d like to give you a present.’

We?

Chishiya tensed slightly. He had noticed it too. If Mira wasn’t the only gamemaster, just who were the others?

Although Mira couldn’t hear us, Kuina mumbled, ‘Are you returning us to the real world?’

It seemed too good to be true, and sure enough, it was. Mira clapped her hands together excitedly. ‘There will be new games! Let’s play more games together and fight for the face cards this time!’

Aside from Chishiya, everyone sank with disappointment and fear. Just how much more would we have to deal with before we could go home? If we were competing for the face cards, did that mean there were only twelve more games in total, or would there be repeat cards like there were for the numbered ones?

Kuina groaned. ‘New games? You’re kidding.’

‘I don’t dislike the idea,’ Chishiya murmured.

I looked at him, curious. ‘What do you mean?’

His expression was guarded, but before he could reply, Mira’s voice cut in again. ‘The next stage will commence tomorrow at noon. Everyone, let’s have fun together!’

All at once, the screens shut down, leaving us all in the darkness once more. Everything was quiet as we came to terms with what had just happened. It was Arisu who first suggested that we get out of here. Him and Usagi disappeared back through the tunnel, and with one glance at Chishiya and I, Kuina followed.

My fingers were still interlaced with his, hidden within the warmth of his pocket. He was watching me, waiting.

‘These games,’ I said. ‘They’re going to be harder than the others.’

He was silent for a moment. ‘Probably.’

‘About what you said before...’ I began. ‘Do you remember that time on the rooftop of the Beach, when I asked you if you were okay, and you told me it shouldn’t matter to me.’

I could see him thinking back. ‘I remember.’

‘What I said then still stands. You might not care about your own life, and I can’t stop you from taking part in these new games.’ I bit my lip, unable to face him as my eyes began tearing up. ‘Perhaps this is selfish of me, but you need to survive. And if you can’t do it for yourself, then....’

He sighed. ‘You cry too much.’ When I looked up, his lips were curled into that same, familiar smile, only this time, there was nothing cruel or condescending there. ‘We should find the others.’

Wiping my eyes with the edge of my sleeve, I finally let go of his hand, following him back out and through the tunnels. As we climbed the steps of the station, emerging into daylight, a series of loud bangs resounded throughout the city. The others were peering up at the skyscrapers towering over us, and the fireworks that burst like flowers against the sunlight.

‘Let’s make a new deal,’ Chishiya said, idly watching the display. ‘I’ll survive, if you return the favour.’

I looked to him, admiring the way his hair shifted in the breeze, and how the reflection of the fireworks danced in his dark eyes.

Let’s go home together.

‘It’s a deal.’