#me looking at a show: I can forgive a lot of things but being inaccurate about something that I have a 9th grade level of knowledge of

[j0kers-light]

Hi! how do you think Joker would feel if reader was a runner? I’m not quite there yet but I hope to run a marathon at some point, so I end up having to spend a lot of time running. Which I don’t mind... but I get up before the sun rises and immediately go out to get my run in. Which I feel like J couldn't handle if he slept at the readers apartment that night. And I wonder if he'd be worried about reader being outside alone for long periods of time. I feel like races would be lonely for reader since he obviously couldn't just show up and cheer her on </3. And on a more personal note- I also wonder if he'd or if he'd notice the absurd amount of race t shirts i have 😂. And this is kind of a stupid thing I do, but sometimes I run when I’m sick. Even If have the flu or something I will still try to run it off, which I figure he wouldn’t approve of reader doing. And I’m very injury prone (very). So he might notice notice my slight Advil addiction lol

Sorry for the Kind of random a request. Maybe not a lot to write about, but I feel like I’ve never seen a story/headcannon about a reader who runs 🤔? I had this thought because the running shoes I like are soo expensive (especially when you have to buy them regularly 😵) and I thought of a scenario where he steals reader some shoes in bulk 😅. Anywho you don’t have to write all or any of this if you don’t care (this is basically a self insert of myself so change what you want) , I’m kinda rambling so this may not make any sense. And I love your stories btw 🩷

Hey hi anon!!!!! 🖤✨

You weren’t rambling love, I understood everything you said! AINT NOTHING WRONG WITH A SELF INSERT its why I'm here lol 🤭 thank you for sharing those tiny details, I shall follow them to the letter! Ah! Thank you for reading too!

Disclosure: I am not a runner and I have no idea about this topic so forgive me if anything is inaccurate. Did I drop what I was doing to fill this head canon? YES you're worth it! Representation matters so don’t hesitate to be self indulgent!

I hope you enjoy beloved! Keep runnin'! 🏃🏾‍♀️💨

With the clash of schedules-- Joker usually arrives at your apartment when you're stepping out for your morning run. You pass right by him and he's bewildered on where you're going this early in the day. The sun hasn't even risen yet and why aren't ya wearing anything?!?!! Your sports bra and jogger pants makes him seethe in anger. You look too sexy to be leaving the building!!

This poses a huge safety risk in Joker's mind because Gotham City is never safe but he knows by experience that this is the worst time to be out, alone! Why. Are. You. Out. Running. In. The. Dark? Looking like a defenseless snack? 👀 He flips out when you come back all sweaty yet energized. Whatever that means.... you still look hot. An easy target for sure.

He yells at you for putting yourself in danger until you explain that you're been training for the past few months and nothing has happened. How is it he’s just now noticing? Then you sheepishly explain the odd hours that you run. Mornings and/or nights with no protection whatsoever and Joker.exe stops working.

Joker takes no chances and assigns your security team to follow your training/run route effectively immediately. And as for your skimpy running attire? Girl.

You thought you owned enough race shirts. HA! Joker buys steals you modest running outfits but they do little to conceal your peaches (wink) or your killer legs, much to his dismay. You can wear a trash bag and still look sexy. He begrudgingly allows you to wear your tight outfits because they’re practical.

He stares you down anytime you do a warmup stretch before a run. Oh he'll stretch you out real good.... AHEM! Uh moving on..

Joker most definitely notices your hoard of running shoes. Just how many do you need and why are they so expensive? You explain that they wear down so quickly by running so you constantly need a new pair. Joker takes it upon himself (being the supportive partner that he is) to buy steal the entire store's supply of shoes in your size!

Imagine coming home to a mountain of shoe boxes and Joker's head poking around the corner. 😃 He's so proud of himself but you feel the oncoming headache. He's expressing his love through illegal, over the top gestures.... again. You love this idiot.

And speaking of grand gestures, since J can't attend your races— at least not publicly, he has become rather creative in showing his support. He bribes threatens people to cheer you on in his place or sets up unauthorized checkpoints along the route with banners, balloons, etc. with messages like ‘GO Y/N!’ or ‘Run faster, Bunny!’

It’s so embarrassing when the marathon speakers are hacked and the song, 'Track Star' by Mooski plays because Joker does not know the true meaning behind the lyrics! He just hears, 'she's a runner, she's a track star' and thinks it’s a compliment.

You almost forfeited the race when the urge to hide in shame hits you. The clown dedicated the song to you! Joker means well but this ain't it. The fireworks he rigged to go off when you won the race however were a sweet touch.

Little did you know— if you weren't expected to win, Joker had laughing gas on standby to poison the other runners so you could gain the lead as they fell behind laughing to death... His Bunny will win, no matter what. #SupportiveCrazyBF

Joker does not predict you sabotaging your own chances by running while sick. He doesn't understand your logic of ‘running your flu off.’ It doesn’t make any sense so he’s troubleshooting a plan to help you.

How did you sneak out!?! You should be at home, getting rest and fluids yet you’re knocking back Advil and pressing on like everything is fine. Let's just say Joker is more than furious with you love.

You knew Joker would eventually find out where you were. You shook off your security detail the moment he left and made it to the check in booth for the marathon while still under the weather.

It was just a seasonal flu. No biggie!

Joker was acting like a mother hen thinking you shouldn't lift a finger while sick and he even dressed up like a nurse to further prove just how serious he was about your health. He ordered you to stay in bed and rest— not sneaking out to attend a race. You knew he would be furious but what could he do once you started the competition?

They didn’t perform wellness checks so after everyone got into place and the starter gun went off, the race began.

It was Joker’s fault that he left his patient unattended. The race would only take a few hours and you would be back long before Joker returned from who knows what.

In hindsight, you didn't expect J and his goons to storm the pavilion where the registration booth and spectator zone were set up.

People were none the wiser when multiple vans pulled up, got out, and blended into the crowd. Only when Joker’s goons yielding guns and other weapons started wreaking havoc halfway into the race did things get crazy.

In the midst of the chaos, Joker casually walked up to your upcoming mile marker and waited for you to run by.

He'd only seen you run a handful of times but his keen eye instantly noticed you were more sluggish and less enthusiastic today. You were just going through the motions and looked ready to pass out.

No doubt because his Light was hardheaded and ran a marathon with a flu.

Good thing Joker was good at handling brats. He had no problem plucking you from thin air and hauling you (kicking and screaming) into his van. He hit the wall and it sped off back to your apartment in record time.

If you weren't sick maybe you would've had the energy to fight back more but Joker was able to swat your punches to his face away like a fly.

"J?! What the.. What is your problem!!?! You just ruined a charity race!" You coughed into your elbow as Joker watched in silence.

His face was unreadable and the both of you just swayed with the van's motion as it barreled through Gotham traffic.

Not a peep from your lover. This wasn't good. You were, in essence, in the principal's office. Joker went out of his way to snatch you— in broad daylight— from a public event and he had nothing to say. His intense gaze spoke volumes.

You immediately backtracked to save your skin.

"That wig looks great on you, J. It uh.. *cough* ahem, accentuates your features." You said weakly.

"Don't play with me, Y/n."

Oh. Government name. You f__ked up.

Joker ripped off his ginger wig and fluffed out his own hair underneath. It was a scare tactic, one that was working very well. He was prolonging the inevitable and you knew he was holding back the full severity of his anger.

Finally he licked his lips and spoke. "You wanna know whhhhhhhy it’s a bad idea to, run, while you’re sick hmm? Let’s see.. Respiratory problems, dizzy spells— tch, your accident prone a** can trip on thin air and crack ya head open. Do I need ta go on?"

He waved his hands at you until you shook your head meekly.

"Good! Now... if my Bunny had listeneddd to me.. and stayed in bed, your uhhh charity marathon? Wouldn't have been sabotaged. What's that saying of yours? Play stupid games, win stupid prizessss."

You turned your head in embarrassment but Joker reached over to turn it back towards him. Gone was his stern gaze and replaced with a much more softer expression.

"Think of it this way, Bunny. I came and supported my girl at her uh race." Joker cracked up laughing.

That was not the support you had in mind.

[purgemarchlockdown]

The Intertextuality of Magic and Purge March

(CW: Child Abuse, Torture, Cults)

So, Intertextuality is defined as the relationship between two texts, and is usually used in literature to discuss the interplay and intersect between two (usually separate) works.

Now, Milgram isn't a book and since it's a Series the MVs are naturally interconnected with each other. But the Way those MVs connect and the nature of there relationship is fascinating to me and I'd like to talk about the way Magic and Purge March connect with each other, since I think the way the two MVs shape Amane Momose's story is really interesting and well-written.

A Lot of scenes, events, and objects in Magic can be mapped onto scenes in Purge March, and a lot of things that Did Happen/Are Involved aren't in Purge March but in Magic and vice versa.

For example, As people have noted, Amane actually has Two murder weapons.

The umbrella, which is presented in Purge March and not in Magic.

And the taser, which Isn't in Purge March but Is in Magic.

We already have an incredibly important detail that isn't included in Purge March but Is in Magic.

Except, this detail probably wouldn't have been noticed in the first place if it wasn't for Purge March Establishing that a taser exists in the first place.

Purge March also does a lot of fun recontextualization of elements in Magic. See, the stagelight and the cat.

Most people Assumed this was a literal stagelight (myself included) except Purge March doesn't have this light Anywhere. Which seems strange considering how important it is in Magic as the thing that causes the cat to be hurt in the first place.

The cat was also something taken as a stand in for a human that got hurt. Not a literal cat.

Except, not only is the cat a Literal cat, the the injury on the cat in Magic isn't even the same in Purge March!

But wait there's more! Because Amane is paralleled with the cat

So not only is the cat a literal cat, it is also a stand in! Just for someone we didn't expect.

While the stagelight is most likely just a metaphor, since Magic is a TV SHOW and a Tv show needs lighting. The Stagelight falling being a metaphor for how the cat lead to the destabilization of Amane's "ideal" reality. Purge March completely contextualizes one of the most important parts of Purge March.

Which leads to even more interesting implications and themes, since we can take the cat's death by her abusers as...a metaphorical killing of Amane Momose.

Something that she does To Herself in Purge March.

(Though The cat is also...multiple different metaphors stuck inside a girl and a cat but we do not have the Time to unpack all of that and it's not too relevant to this discussion.)

This is what really makes me love Magic and Purge March, it's their ability to recontextualize each other in interesting directions and the way information is hidden and obscured by the both of them. Only being able to be seen if you look at both of them together.

And while that is true for the other MVs I think it's the most prevalent in Magic and Purge March!

The way the lyrics interact with each other is also really interesting and how it helps show how conflicted Amane is about her situation and how she should Feel About it.

Even I can say "I'm sorry" Even I have hope I swear! I'm going to be a good girl now! That's it! ---------------- After you cry, repent, and kneel, it’s now your turn to say that hopeless “I’m sorry”

Not meaning to brag but I’m pretty happy I’ve made up my mind so they don’t make that face at me again ------------------------ If you become a bad girl, monsters will come out This is the magic that stops that from happening

It's inaccurate to call Magic Amane a less aware Amane because I'd argue she's Very Aware to some extent.

This is a show she's acting in and she knows it. Magic is a plea in a sense, to her parents, to Es, to god to forgive her. That she Can Be a Good Girl. Not that she is, that she Can Be.

I won’t say “I’ve had enough” Will you laugh with me and forgive me?

While Purge March Amane is happily dealing out justice by destroying "sin." She's not presenting good girl as if it's something she isn't, she's presenting it as something she Already is.

We must not give into them, they are the ones that should be judged With pure, unsullied body and soul, let us preach all that is true and right

Sure she might have some weaknesses but she gets rid of them easily and efficiently!

And these two Amane's are the Same Amane.

That medal, the cape, the wings, the feathers- This the same Amane. This is the Ideal Amane. Just recontextualized and framed in a different light. Magic Amane is on the path to being a good girl while Purge March Amane is. This change in perception being a consequences of our "condemnation" of her actions in T1!

Amane is More Critical of herself, More Punishing, More Strict in Purge March. But also more sure of her own righteousness than in Magic.

However, Magic and Purge March both downplay Amane's pain in some way.

Even with how sure she is of her own righteousness Amane still diminishes her own suffering.

You see my point- these two MVs are constantly discussing and interacting with each other and I just think that's cool.

I could talk about it more but if I did we would be here forever, plus I've already discussed alot of these points in different posts. I just wanted to talk about why I think it's so interesting.

[tatzelwyrm]

Ok, it's over. I'm good again. We will now return to regluar random blogging untinged by nostalgia.

Final thoughts for my own files:

Charles lives. \o/

There could have been more of Charles, but then there can always be more of Charles. But at least he lives and so now I can sleep peacefully again.

The Metalocalypse according to Knubbler: "Fuckers will be dying and shit."

Pickles is Mom confirmed.

Skwisgaar's role in the band is Guitar God. Toki's role in the band is "sunshine rainbow marshmallow man".

Murderface's role in the band is to suck (affectionate).

Nathan is going to only have sex with music from now on (and drink respect women juice)

They brought back the chef for the final battle. :DDD

For a character as silly as Knubbler, they managed to give his death a lot of weight.

The way they handled Abigail was good. Abigail is so good because she's so normal in a way that no other recurring character is. Also, she's the only important female character in the entire franchise apart from the whale and there was so much fandom drama about her back in the day, that I'm geniunly glad not only didn't they fuck her up, they even pissed over all that drama in a single scene of dialogue.

Speaking of the whale: I'm glad she actually did something, because I've always loved having this character that's literally a whale but also somehow a doomsday prophet, in a show that doesn't have any other animal characters. She was bizarre in a show that is bizarre. But I didn't need her to be the one to kill Salacia. Let the main characters do that, maybe? Now it looks like all that was needed for the show to be over was for someone give Salacia a little push while he was talking a stroll on the beach.

Everybody has PTSD and that never gets explicitly addressed and that's fair, this is not the kind of show for that, but it's all there in the behaviour (Toki's age regression, Skwisgaar's touch aversion).

They managed to put some good character moments in there, my favourite being Nathan pointing out "Magnus never gave us a chance to forgive him".

Still thinking about how Brendon Small once said about Doomstar Requiem that Mangus' death was supposed to be reminiscent of Judas' suicide in Jesus Christ Superstar, who was forgiven.

I have never liked Dr Rockzo, but "Toki is doing bad, so let's have Dr Rockzo here to cheer him up" is a thought Charles would have and it's the only acceptable explanation for why he would allow the clown in his church.

When Orlaag mentioned "Krakish" I was hoping we'd see some cool looking monsters like the Troll from season one, but Salacia's monster form was actually kinda boring. :((((

Spaking of Orlaag:

me: *never really cared about Orlaag one way or another*. Orlaag: I will bathe in his blood. me: 🔪🔪🔪

And right when I thought there had been surprisingly little gore, Orlaag got turned into paste. :DDDD

Other characters take their suit off to fight. Charles is built differently.

The opening was so meta what with "it's been so long and this is what you give us?", and that's fair.

On that note: The special retreads familiar themes (the power of friendship, found family, the FANS, etc. etc. etc.), there are no surprises, but, eh, I didn't expect anything else. All open plot threads get (re)addressed and tied off. I would have wanted there to be more time for general silliness, but given that this one special is all they got to finish the story, I'm happy they managed to do as much as they did.

There was a time during the 10 1/2 years since Doomstar Requiem that I thought "it's better for this to not have an ending at all than for the ending to suck" and this was definitely not that. I wasn't blown away by the special, but that's okay. There were things the special didn't do that it could have done, but the things it did do were fine.

The subtitles are consistently weirdly inaccurate when identifying who's speaking. Salacia is referred to as MMA (who isn't even in this special), Orlaag (or was it Stampington) is referred to as Salacia, the cultist holding the sermon in the church during Ishnifus' funeral is referred to as Charles. The one that threw me the most, however, was Murderface being referred to as William. This isn't technically wrong, but it feels wrong.

[saintclay]

it’s 1 am and I have lost enough filters that I’m going to say something that might be controversial. 

Conner Kent is not a clone. not in the literal sense of the word. he’s a genomorph, yes, but not a clone. 

yes he was artificially grown using Clark’s DNA. however. half of his DNA comes from Lex Luthor. thats. thats literally just a kid. but like with extra steps and a lot of bullshit science. 

Match is a clone. I think. I’m like 99% certain that he is explicitly unstable because he’s 100% kryptonian. which is also bullshit and makes no sense but ok I can suspend my disbelief on that I fuckin guess. 

this probably makes no sense to anyone who cannot peer into my sleep addled brain but I thought it was important.

[wienerbarnes]

Italian Heart

Pairing: Bucky x Italian!MobBoss!Reader

Word Count: 4,867

Warnings: canon level violence, possible inaccurate italian slang lol

A/N: ive been watching a lot of the sopranos lately and i feel like ive never seen a bucky x mob boss reader au (ive only rlly seen em where buckys the mob boss. if there are ones where reader is the mob boss PLS SEND EM TO ME I BEG) a lot of the slang and mob stuff here is from sopranos bc... im not in the fucking mafia so forgive me anyway enjoy :)<3

MAIN MASTERLIST

Bucky’s never seen a woman quite like yourself.

Dressed in expensive satin and jewelry that hangs between your breasts, an angry look on your face at the fact you’re sitting before him and Sam in an interrogation room in the tower. Freshly done nails, clean and crisp lipstick, spicy perfume, and an expression of annoyance.

As put together as you look, you don’t look like someone to be fucked with. Which, he supposes is good for a mobster; the Boss of Newark.

Looking at you, though, he’d never thought you to be such a figure of intimidation. While the mafia is still alive, despite how the media tries to deny this, he always pictured an old Italian man that chain smokes cigars. He doesn’t think he’s too far off, to his credit; he can smell the remnants of smoke on you.

“Mind if we make this fast? My cousin’s comin’ for dinner and I was gonna make ziti.” You huff, crossing your legs under the table.

“Sounds delicious. Sorry for dragging you all the way out here.” Sam says, a calm look on his face even though he’s well aware of what you’re capable of.

When hunting down the last traces of the super soldier serum, he never thought Nick Fury himself would suggest getting in touch with you. He didn’t think it was worth the time to question how the two of you knew each other.

Theft. Drugs. Murder. Bribery. The list goes on, and there’s not a single thing that ties you to any of it.

A shrug of your shoulders, “So, what exactly is this about?” You ask.

“What is it that you do for a living?” Sam asks.

“I work in waste management.” You respond, a rehearsed answer.

Not exactly a lie, the environmental facility you manage is one of hundreds of covers used by your crew for your crimes. Environmental facilities, deli shops, strip clubs, auto shops. There isn’t a business in Jersey you aren’t tied to.

“Waste management? Like, garbage disposal?” Bucky asks, knowing exactly what it is you do for work.

You smirk, “Yeah, we dispose of garbage sometimes. What’s that got to do with me being here?”

“It’s to my understanding that you’re in the business of… buying and selling things. You and… the people you hang around got a real knack for it.” Sam tells you.

Bucky holds back a roll of his eyes. More like stealing and selling. Expensive Italian suits, antique watches, cars, electronics, illegal cigars. Who knows what else.

“I don’t know where you heard that… but I’m a popular gal, maybe I know a guy who might know a guy. What are you lookin’ for?” You ask.

You know this game, after being in the mob for so long. After being a part of your own crew for years, your patience and hard work paid off, working your way up to a captain and finally a boss. It didn’t take you long to learn in this business that government officials are jokes. Always wanting to bust my balls and then come crying to my corner for help, it’s a bunch of ugatz.

“Serums.” Bucky finally speaks.

A laugh escapes you, “What, like vitamin C?” You teasingly smirk at him.

His chair makes a loud sound in the small room as he pushes it back harshly and stands, resting his hands on the table in between the two of you. You don’t flinch.

“Enough with the bullshit. Super serums. To create super soldiers. We need to get them before they end up in the wrong hands and make a big ass mess.” He snaps at you, but you don’t seem phased in the slightest. In fact, you seem rather amused.

“You must have a lot of agita with all that anger, Sergeant Barnes.”

He doesn’t hold back this time and rolls his eyes before you speak up again, “Your first name is James, isn’t it? Ain’t that Italian?”

“No, it’s English. Or Scottish. Or Jewish - I don’t know, who cares? Are you gonna help us or not?” Bucky takes his seat again, crossing his thick arms over his broad chest.

“What’s in it for me?” You ask, leaning back in your chair.

“Not being arrested for all the shit we know you’re caught up in.” Sam offers.

You roll your own eyes this time, “I’ll take my chances. Thanks for wasting my time, boys, don’t let it happen again.” You stand, prepared to make your way back to the train station to go back to Jersey.

“Wait,” Sam stops you, “What is it that you want?”

You smile innocently and take your seat again, taking a minute to think before answering, “My little sister’s a big fan of yours. I’m sure she and all her friends would think it’s cool if you showed up to her prom as her date.” You wink at Sam.

Silence fills the room as the men think about your request.

“You’re gonna do it, right?” Bucky looks over at him and sees Sam rubbing the crease in between his eyes. He was expecting you to ask for immunity, protection, money, guns. But after hearing your request, he supposes you have enough of all that stuff anyway.

“Man -” Sam begins to refuse.

“Sam, it’s a fucking school dance in exchange for some of the most powerful and sought after serums on the planet - go to the fucking prom.” He tells him, eyebrows scrunching in confusion as to how he would hesitate on something so simple.

“She’s eighteen, so you won’t have any problems with the media or none of that.” You add, the information not really making Sam feel any better.

“Alright, alright, fine. I’ll go to the dance with your sister if you help us get these serums.”

You smile, happy to have done business with the two men, “What information do ya got for me?”

…

Bucky and Sam wait outside a back room in the facility you own. They passed the garbage trucks parked neatly outside, but could hear your screaming and the smell of Cuban cigars as soon as they entered the building.

She’s with a customer, they were told, by someone in your crew, them meeting Bucky’s expectations for mobsters more than you did. None of them ask any questions, but Bucky and Sam aren’t stupid, they’re sure your crew is aware of what’s going on and know the exact reason they’re there.

“You’re a fuckin’ asshole, you know that? The Bible says, Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit -”

“You listen to me, you take your Bible and your quotations book and shove it up your fat fucking ass! Now get the fuck out of my face!”

Bucky can’t help but scoff listening to you scream at whoever’s inside. Sam elbows him, silently telling him that now isn’t the time to find your work funny, especially not in front of the rest of your crew.

Bucky knows he’s old-fashioned, and while things that were taboo such as body modifications or certain fashion styles don’t phase him anymore, he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to hearing a woman talk like that. He doesn’t think he’s ever even heard anybody talk like you do.

Suddenly a man bursts out of the room, huffing and puffing, and you walk slowly behind him, as if to make sure he makes it outside okay.

“Grab his plate for me, will you?” You say not to anyone in particular, voice smooth and calm as if you hadn’t been yelling and threatening that man’s life for the past twenty minutes.

One of the men from your crew follows outside, seemingly to collect the license plate of the man who just left.

“Nothing’s gonna happen to that guy, right?” Sam asks as he and Bucky enter the room, taking a seat in front of the desk you have in there. He knows there’s no point in asking, that you’ll do whatever you want regardless because it’s obvious you’re passionate about receiving respect, but it was worth a shot.

“Is that what you came all the way to Jersey to ask me? Christ, I’m fuckin’ starving, you boys want anything to eat?” You ask, accent heavy as you reach into the side drawer of your desk and pull out what seems to be some kind of meat wrapped in paper.

“Gabagool?” You offer to them, picking out a slice for yourself and placing it in your mouth.

“Gesundheit.” Sam responds.

“It’s pork, you asshole.”

Bucky silently reaches over and picks off a slice of the cured cold cut, putting the meat in his mouth and savoring the flavor. While he can’t stand the way you make a living or the sailor’s mouth you have, he loves Italian food, and actually chose a neighborhood in New York that has plenty of traditional cold cut markets and restaurants to live in in order to fulfill his cravings.

“There’s a big party staged downtown this weekend, we think that’s when the drop is going to happen.” Sam tells you, bringing the focus to their reason for coming here in the first place.

“I’ll send one of my boys.” You reply in between your chews.

“That wasn’t the deal. The deal was you get the serums.” Bucky speaks up.

“Buck, you know how many people want her dead?” Sam tries to reason.

“What the fuck do I have a crew for then? - No, if pretty boy wants me to do it myself, then I will. The same people that want my head are the same fucks who are terrified to be within twenty feet of me in fear they’ll make eye contact. I’m not scared of nothin’.” You say, narrowing your eyes at Bucky.

“What did you guys come here to talk about?” You ask.

Sam looks confused at your expression, “...To go over the plan? Hash out details? So you know how everything’s gonna go?”

“I’ll be fine; I’ve seen The Godfather once or twice,” You tell him, wrapping up the cappo, after Bucky picks off one last slice, and replacing it in the drawer, “Don’t worry Captain, this ain’t my first rodeo. I’ll get the serums for you.” You open a different drawer and pull out a cigar and a lighter.

Bucky watches as you place the large cigar in between your red-painted lips, bringing the flame of your lighter to the end and hollowing your cheeks until smoke exits from the corner of your mouth. Bucky feels blood travel south as his eyes glaze over your hand grab the cigar out of your mouth and blow out a long string of smoke.

“I guess we’ll be in touch then,” Sam stands and Bucky follows after.

“My sister’s wearing blue, so find yourself a nice tie.” You call out, lifting your feet up to cross them on the desk, dress rising and showing your legs.

Bucky blushes, and then laughs as he exits when he hears you, in a deep and more exaggerated accent than your own, “Just when I thought I was out… they pull me back in!”

…

The morning of the party, Sam and Bucky pick you up from your house, planning to take you into New York to discuss final details before tonight.

You get in the passenger seat, Sam offering it to you and climbing in the backseat. As Bucky begins to drive off, your phone rings.

“I told you to leave that.” Bucky says, telling you explicitly to leave electronics here to prevent anyone finding out where you are, and also to avoid any distractions.

“Wanted to see what you’d about it, Sarge,” You wink at him, pulling out a flip phone and answering the call.

“Yeah… Uh huh… He what? Are you fucking kidding me?... Alright… Tell him not to move a fucking muscle.” You hang up, slamming the phone closed.

“Stop at the facility for a sec, I gotta take care of something.” Bucky sighs and turns away from the route to head to your facility.

“Bucky’s going to be going with you tonight, by the way, he’ll be in disguise. Just in case anything goes wrong.” Sam tells you, not really caring anymore about having to make a stop for you to take care of whatever business you need to take care of.

Your only response is a hum as Bucky can feel the anger radiating off your now tense body.

You slam the car door shut as Bucky parks behind a garbage truck outside, not even waiting for him to fully put the car in park before you exit.

Him and Sam follow quickly behind you to see what’s going on. You enter through a side door that leads to a large room, a garage for the trucks, Bucky assumes.

There’s a large truck inside, and racks of suits wrapped in plastic scattered around. A younger man stands near the truck as your crew peruses around the racks, he couldn’t be older than twenty-five years old. Your heels click on the ground as you approach, slowing down as you glance between the suits and the young man. Bucky and Sam hang around a few feet behind your trail.

You stop, fuming, staring at the man before you speak, “You wanna tell me what the fuck happened?”

“I -” He begins, but you cut him off, raising an open hand at him.

“Actually, I don’t even want to hear your fucking voice right now. Because if what I heard you did is true; if what you did to Vinny’s guy is true, you’re gonna be a fuck load of trouble.”

“Can I -”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“But -”

“I said shut the fuck up, Christopher! What part of that don’t you understand?” You yell, and even Bucky feels intimidated.

You turn to your crew, “What the fuck happened.” You demand, more than ask.

“Kid says he tried to take the truck, Vinny’s guy had a gun that fell outta the seat, went off, shot him.” One of the men summarizes, not looking up from the rack of suits.

You raise a manicured hand to pinch between your eyes, “You keep me skinny, Christopher, with all the fucking stress you cause me.”

“Would you let me explain?” He tries.

“If you don’t do as I told you and shut your fucking mouth, you’re gonna be buried with two assholes,” You threaten before continuing.

“They were fuckin’ suits! All you had to do was take the truck! How did you fuck that up -” You stop yourself and sigh, attempting to calm yourself down.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen. You’re gonna take all this shit, you’re gonna take it back to Vinny, and you’re gonna tell him what happened yourself.” You finish.

“Marone!” He exclaims, rubbing his face with his hands.

“Enough with the theatrics! You’re lucky I don’t put a bullet in your ass! Now, I don’t see you grabbing that rack and that rack and that rack and putting it back in the truck!” You wave your arms around the room.

The kid sighs and begins grabbing the racks one by one and rolling them back in the truck.

“Would it be such a shame if they all went back?” An older man from your crew asks, already wearing one of the expensive suits. You scoff and laugh.

“Bucky, pick yourself somethin’ nice for tonight,'' You turn to face him, and he jumps at the sound of your now calmer voice being directed at him, as opposed to the harsh one used on Christopher, “On me.” You wink.

...

Sam and Bucky sit on the bed and watch as you get ready. A small apartment near the party that’s already been swept for bugs. A favor, you called it, from someone you know.

They don’t question it.

“You and Bucky will go in together and I’ll be waiting at a secondary location watching and listening to everything.”

Bucky can’t tear his eyes away from your dress. A mermaid dress, he thinks it is, black and tight and hugging you in all the right places, curving around your ass and sleeveless at the top, allowing you to show off a nice necklace and your cleavage. It’s an understatement to say that he’ll enjoy accompanying you tonight, even if it’s in a costume.

His mother probably would’ve loved it if he would’ve gotten with someone like you. Someone who loves their family, a spitfire that wouldn’t take any of his shit, and whose god damn gorgeous. She might’ve had to wash your mouth out with soap, though.

“So, why is Bucky goin’ again?”

“Safety.” Bucky answers.

“Is he going for my safety or am I going for his?” You tease, finishing the last few curls of your hair, smoke coming from the iron after each time you pull your hair away from it.

“Once you find our guy, get talking with him and see if you can get him to make you an offer,” He begins.

“One I can’t refuse?”

“Then, you’ll try and get him alone, see if he’ll show you the serums, and once you do, we’ll be taking care of the rest.” Sam finishes explaining.

Bucky plucks a box from his pocket and opens it to reveal a pair of diamond earrings. One, a camera, and the other, a microphone. You’re also given a comm to hide in your ear so both him and Sam can hear everything and you can hear them.

“Easy - peasy.” You respond.

The ballroom is lively, loud music and people everywhere, and Bucky attunes all the action overwhelming him to a sweat and not that fact that you’re pressed up against him, his arm wrapped around your waist.

About a hundred different people come up to greet you, asking about your family, offering you drinks and food. Bucky can see right through all of them though; they’re all putting on the act out of fear. Everyone’s attention is on you, and Bucky’s sure if he wasn’t in disguise right now, no one would even notice.

You bring him to the middle of the crowd and he can’t be surprised when you start to dance with him, pulling at his arms to get him to loosen up. He complies, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close as the two of you move together.

“I’ll let you know when I spot him.” He tells you, voice causing goosebumps to rise on your neck; goosebumps that he notices but doesn’t point out.

It only takes a song or two before he spots who he’s looking for and sends you over, making sure your com is on, and choosing to stick by the bar, giving him a good view of you and allowing himself a break of having your body pressed against his.

He’s impressed listening to you talk to this guy, voice smooth and sultry, yet still commanding.

He knows there was a lot of talk when you took position as boss; not a lot of people in the mob took you seriously and didn’t think you or a woman in general would be good in that kind of position in power. So, you use that to your advantage to get shit done, and Bucky applauds you for that.

It’s not long before the guy offers to go somewhere more private to discuss business and Bucky follows far behind, Sam praising you through the coms from where he waits in the car outside, watching through the camera in your earring.

Bucky waits outside of a closed office door upstairs, listening to the conversation through the coms but hearing your exclamation through the door when the guys give you his asking price.

“5 mil each?! What do you take me for, some kinda stunad?”

“Take it or leave it.”

“Take it or leave it, yeah, I can put a bullet between your eyes and take it, alright.”

“Stop messing around and take the offer, it’s not real anyway!” Sam tells you, not wanting to lose their chance on the serums.

You ignore him prioritizing your need for respect over the stupid mission, “How do I know these aren’t Kool-Aid pouches poured in glass bottles?”

“Well, I’m certainly not going to test ‘em out for you.” The guy scoffs.

“Stronzo. You’re outta your fucking mind offering me that.”

“I’ll lower the price for you if you give me a little dance, how ‘bout that?”

“Vaffanculo.” You curse at him.

“Up yours, lady!” He yells back, and Sam sees through the camera, he grabs at you.

“Buck, get in there.” Sam tells him, and it only takes Bucky a second to kick open the door.

He’s a bit taken aback when he not only sees the case of serums out on the table, but you holding the man bent over the small table in the middle of the room next to the serums, gun held to the back of his head.

He very quickly decides that you’re fine and moves to grab the serums, closing the case and holding it securely in his left hand.

“Don’t kill the guy.”

You stay silent and Bucky looks at you again. He can almost see the steam coming out of your ears and he notices a small cut on your cheek bone. He looks down to the man’s cowering figure and notices a large ring on his hand.

You mumble something in Italian to the man, a threat of some kind that Bucky can guess given how the man shuts his eyes and shakes a bit under your hold. Sam finally enters the room, military grade handcuffs in hand.

“Feds are on their way, get her out of here.” He tells Bucky.

You slowly lift the gun off the man’s head and stand up straighter, walking over to brush past Bucky in the direction of the back door.

He makes eye contact with Sam and gives him a nod before following after you, watching as you scrunch up the bottom of your dress to replace the gun in an ankle holster. Once outside, he stops you under a street light near the car and raises his hand to look at your cheek.

“We gotta get going,” You swat at his hand.

“You’re still bleeding.” He says, using his thumb to brush away the line of blood, smearing a red tinge on your skin.

He looks into your eyes and for a second he sees the tough exterior drop. The face of someone who got smacked across the cheek all for mouthing off at some asshole.

Your vulnerability doesn’t last long, though, as you sniff and walk towards the car, opening the passenger door and sitting inside before Bucky can make it over there to open the door for you.

The drive back to the apartment is silent, and Bucky doesn’t know what to do or say to fill the silence. Stepping into the apartment, you immediately go to change and collect your things. Bucky moves to the bathroom to look for a first aid kit of some kind.

He meets you in the room and you’re now in cotton pants and a large t-shirt, sandals on your feet showing the bright red color of your toenails and the lines indented in your skin from how tight your heels were. You’re hanging up the dress and zipping it back in the cover when Bucky drops the first aid kit on the bed.

“Christ, it’s only a small cut.” You mumble.

“Just - Let me, would you?”

He takes out the liquid of disinfectant and soaks a cotton pad, cleaning off your cheek bone with it before covering it with healing ointment and a bandaid.

You don’t thank him when he finishes and he huffs as he closes the kit, “When do you drop the act, huh?”

“I don’t.”

“Really?” Bucky asks in annoyed disbelief.

“No. People tend to try and have me whacked when I drop the act.”

He sighs, “So, what, nobody ever takes care of you? Treats you? You don’t have any days off? Time to be yourself?”

“This lifestyle doesn’t really allow me to have days off, Sergeant Barnes.” You snap, gathering the dress in your hands and turning to face him completely.

“Take me home, I’m tired and my feet hurt.”

You leave him in the room and he waits an extra few seconds before dropping the conversation and following you out.

...

Bucky opens the back door to the environmental facility with his right hand and sees the door to your office open, you and your crew sitting together surrounded by cigar smoke and he can hear a TV on.

“Sir, please step into the vehicle.”

“Like the cop would be callin’ this asshole Sir if the fuckin’ cameras weren’t around!” You wave a hand at the TV, not yet seeing Bucky standing there.

He finds it funny that the gnarliest criminals - the literal Mafia - spend their time watching shitty, scripted cop shows.

It’s been about two weeks since the mission with you where you retrieved the serums. Sam went to prom with your sister five days ago, which was hilarious for him, especially when he got photo prints of different sizes in the mail at his apartment. He didn’t bother thinking about how you found his address.

One of the men sitting next to you glances his way and sees him standing there, smirking at the vision of him; hair combed slightly back and to the side, and a large bouquet of flowers in his right hand and a small paper box in his left.

“You got company, Boss.” He says.

You look over to the doorway and your jaw drops in an open-mouthed smile.

“Look at googootz! Now this is a man that knows how to treat a lady, are you boys paying attention?” You tease, scurrying over to him and pinching one of his cheeks, resting your free hand on his large bicep to guide him into the room, the rest of your crew ushering out to give the two of you privacy.

“What’s in the box?”

“Cannoli.”

You throw your head back with an exaggerated moan, “You know the way to an Italian woman’s heart, Sergeant Barnes. What’s with all the gifts?”

“Thought I’d treat you.” Is all his response is.

You narrow your eyes at him and stand up a little straighter, crossing your arms over your chest.

The last conversation before he dropped you off that night hasn’t escaped his mind. He understands the difficulties of life - how it’s hard to find time for yourself among the busy schedule that is existing. He catches himself sometimes, too, forcing his body to run with no sleep, burning through all of his energy until he’s completely drained and blaming it on life.

But life’s not always like that. Life allows for days off. For treats. For a bit of kindness. And Bucky’s come to show you just that.

“What, a beautiful woman like you never received flowers and pastries before?” He says, taking a half-step forward to be close enough to look you closer in the eyes.

“Are you flirting with me?” You whisper in amusement.

His eyes glance away from yours to look down at your red-painted lips. He gives you a shy smirk, really turning up the charm. For a big, bad, boss, you’re pretty easy to break down.

“Let me take you out tonight.”

“Maybe I’ve got plans.”

“Cancel ‘em.”

“What makes you think you’re worth canceling plans for?”

“Why don’t you trust me and find out?”

“You should know by now, Sergeant Barnes, that I don’t trust.”

He doesn’t respond for a moment, setting the box of cannoli on your desk before reaching his now free hand up to your face, using his finger to brush away a stray hair and push it behind your ear.

He then takes a hold of one of your hands, turning it over to place a kiss on the top of it, before wrapping your fingers around the flowers in his other hand, forcing you to take them.

“No restaurant you’ve been to a hundred times over, no drama, no business. Just a man trying to treat a lady.” You look down at the flowers before meeting his eyes again.

“I get to pick the place.”

“No.”

“The kind of food.”

“No.”

“The -”

“No. Let me take care of everything.” Bucky insists, determined to get you to give up control for the first time in what he can only imagine has been a very long time.

Bucky knows better than anyone how terrifying it is to give up control. It was terrifying when he was forced to give up control, his free will taken away from him in the war for decades upon decades, but it’s terrifying even now when he has to do it as a free man. It makes a person vulnerable. When was the last time you were allowed to be vulnerable for somebody?

“I’m gonna pick you up here at six. Wear something nice and leave the executive attitude at home.” He finishes, leaving you with the flowers and cannoli before returning back outside, ignoring the stares he receives from you crew who wait patiently outside your office.

He feels your eyes follow him at the door, and he can’t wait to sweep you off your feet tonight.

[drabbles-mc]

Delivery

Neron ‘Creeper’ Vargas x F!Reader

Request by Anon: Could you do one where the mayans are in lockdown and you go into labor. I can maybe taza/bishop or letty delivering and baby daddy freaking out and telling the guys not to look. Im not picky about the guy whoever you think fits best.

Warnings: language, mentions of birth and all the stuff that goes along with it I guess? I really didn’t get graphic with it at all, Creeper being a softie

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: Full disclaimer I know nothing about giving birth. Everything I know I’ve learned from TV shows. So, if any of this is inaccurate in any way, that’s why lol. Regardless, hope you guys enjoy the fic! Creeper as a dad gives me all the soft feelings. Also sorry for not posting as much this week--saying it’s been a long fuckin’ week would be the understatement of the century so I haven’t really done much writing at all. Hoping to get through some more requests this weekend though! xo

Mayans Taglist: @garbinge @mayans-sauce @thesandbeneathmytoes @paintballkid711 @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @queenbeered @sillygoose6969 @sesamepancakes @yourwonkywriter @chibsytelford @gemini0410 @multiyfandomgirl40 @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @plentyoffandoms @georgiaaintnopeach @twistnet @themoonandthewicked @bucky-iss-bae​ @encounterthepast​ @rosieposie0624​ @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo​ @mijop​ @xladymacbethx​ @blessedboo​ @holl2712​ @lakamaa12​ @masterlistforimagines​ @kkim120​ @toni9​ @shadow-of-wonder​ @petlaufeyson​ (If you want to be added to my taglist just let me know!)

Going into lockdown at the clubhouse at 39 weeks pregnant hadn’t been on your list of things to do. Truthfully, for the last month or so of your pregnancy you’d stayed away from the clubhouse altogether unless you needed to get something from or for Creeper. He completely supported your decision, too. There was way too much smoke and alcohol and chaos at the clubhouse for you these days. Plus you needed to be somewhere with some kind of air conditioning or you turned into an entirely different person.

To his credit, Creeper did everything he could to keep you comfortable. And the last thing that he wanted to do was tell you that they were going into lockdown. You knew from the second he came home that afternoon that something was off.

“What’s up, baby?” you asked, walking over to him as he stood at the entrance to living room.

He met you halfway, gently caressing your belly before leaning in to kiss you lightly on the lips, “You know I love you, right?”

You leaned back, hands resting on top of your baby-bump, “What’d you do, Neron?”

He held his hands up in surrender, “I didn’t do anything, Mama. I swear.”

“What’s going on?”

“I can’t just tell you that I love you?”

You arched one eyebrow, “Not with that look in your eyes, you can’t.”

He chuckled, loving and hating how well you could read him. He sighed, running his hand back over the smooth skin of his head, “I love you. Promise you’re not gonna be mad at me for what I’m gonna tell you?”

“I don’t make promises I can’t keep,” you crossed your arms, waiting for the hammer to drop.

He didn’t want to meet your eyes as he said it, but somehow he managed to, “I gotta take you to the clubhouse.”

Your eyes narrowed, “Why?”

There was a long stretch of silence, “Lockdown.”

“You’re kidding me. You’re joking, right?”

“I’m not. I’m sorry, baby,” he reached and took your hands in his own, “You know I wouldn’t ask you to do this if I didn’t think you needed to.”

You sighed, watching his hands as he traced his thumb along your knuckles, “Shit’s getting that bad?”

He gave one slow nod, “Just tryin’ to keep everyone safe.”

Pressing your lips together into a thin line, you nodded. You knew that at the end of the day, he had minimal say in decisions like these. And, he was right, he wouldn’t ask this of you if he didn’t think it was necessary. That didn’t make you want to do it, though.

“Alright. Let me pack a bag.”

He shook his head, “I got you, baby. Just get your purse and shit. I got the rest.”

You chuckled, “I can pack my own clothes, Neron. I’m pregnant but I’m still capable.”

He insisted that you let him, trying to make up for the fact that you were in the position of having to leave because of him in the first place. You let him have that, standing back as he collected things to pack for you. You were impressed that he knew all of your favorite pieces of clothing, things that were actually still comfortable for you at this stage in your pregnancy. He didn’t say much as he got everything together for you.

“Grab the hospital bag, too, baby,” you said as you leaned against the doorframe.

“Yea?” his eyes grew wide.

You nodded, “Yea. You know how long we’ll be in lockdown for? ‘Cause this little one is ready to pop,” you gestured to your stomach.

“Shit. You’re right.”

You laughed, “Usually, yea.”

He refused to let you carry any of the bags to the car. You knew that he wouldn’t let you, but you still offered to. He opened the passenger side door and helped you step up into the car. You leaned back in the seat, taking a deep breath as you tried to mentally prepare for what the next few days were going to be like. The guys would do anything for you. That was always the case, but ever since you became pregnant, all of them had been extra attentive when given the opportunity. You often wondered if Creeper had anything to do with it.

When Creeper parked in front of the clubhouse, you saw a lot of familiar faces. You saw the guys, of course, but you also saw everyone’s family members that you didn’t get to see all that often. Most of them kept their families separate from the MC and you couldn’t blame them for it. But during times like this, everyone came together.

Creeper had all the bags slung over his arms and shoulders as he ran to open the car door for you. You chuckled as he held out a hand to help you out. How he managed to not tip himself over was a mystery to you. He directed you over to Bishop before scampering off to get his dorm set up and as comfortable as it would get for you.

You looked at Bishop, both of you had tired smiles on your faces. You were each exhausted for very different reasons, but there was still that level of sympathy there. He leaned in and kissed you on the cheek and you did your best to give him a hug.

“So, Neron tells me that you’re the one I’m supposed to be mad at about this?” you laughed as you gestured to the clubhouse.

Bishop laughed, nodding, “Afraid so. I’m sorry, sweetheart. I know this isn’t where you wanna be right now.”

“No, it’s not,” you chuckled, gently rubbing your hands on your stomach, “But it’ll be alright.”

“Anything you need, you let us know.”

You nodded, “I will. Thank you, Bishop.”

He shook his head, “Thank you. I can’t imagine how tough this is.”

“We’re tough,” you gently patted your stomach.

He smiled, “You guys ever find out what you’re having?”

You shook your head, “Nope. Keeping it a surprise.”

He took your hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it, “You’re truly amazing.”

Bishop offered to walk with you back to the dorms and you let him, hoping that you would get a few crumbs of information about what was going on. Creeper didn’t tell you too much these days for fear of stressing you out and negatively affecting the baby. You appreciated his concern but not knowing occasionally drove you nuts. But Bishop was keeping a tight lip as well. You asked a couple questions and he skillfully dodged them. That was when you knew for a fact that Creeper had said something to the guys. The man really did try to think of everything.

Just as you were about to walk up to the door, someone cleared their throat behind you, “Excuse me.”

You and Bishop both turned, your eyes growing wider when you saw Chucky walking by, air conditioning unit wrapped up in his arms.

“My apologies, Y/N,” he said as he brushed past you as carefully as possible, “but this is for you so I hope you’ll forgive me barging through.”

You chuckled, shaking your head, “You’re fine, Chucky. No need to apologize,” you paused as you followed him back into the room, “Where…where did the AC unit come from?”

“The office,” he replied as he and Creeper started getting it set up in the window.

“Chucky,” you shook your head, “I can’t take that from you. You’ll melt out there without having it all day.”

He and Creeper both turned around and simultaneously shook their heads. Chucky spoke up, his tone genuine as ever, “The two of you need it much more than I do.”

You smiled, resting your hand on your stomach, “Thank you. I…I really appreciate it.”

Once the air conditioner was all set up, Bishop and Chucky disappeared out of the room and left you and Creeper by yourselves. You sat down on the edge of the bed with a sigh, glad to be back off of your feet for a little bit. Creeper came and sat down next to you, gently rubbing your back. He pressed a soft kiss to the side of your head as you leaned against him. It was hot, and you were uncomfortable, and truthfully the clubhouse was the last place you wanted to be. But he was trying so hard to make it as nice for you as he possibly could, and you couldn’t fault him for that.

“Thank you, baby,” you reached and rested your hand on his knee, “for doing all of this.”

“Anything else you need?”

You shook your head, “Just for you guys to get your business sorted,” you laughed, “But really, Neron, I’m fine. Thank you.”

He stayed with you for a little while, helping you finish unpacking everything. Despite the chaos, you always felt safe with him. Even when things were falling apart, he always made you feel like he had it all together, and that was the kind of stability that you needed. He’d been your rock throughout your whole relationship, but even more so since you became pregnant. He stepped up to the plate in ways that you wouldn’t have ever even imagined. You hadn’t really known what to expect because of his involvement with the club, but he reprioritized immediately. And no one in the club was brave enough to try and stand in his way about it.

A couple days went by and you were much more comfortable than you thought you were going to be. It wasn’t quite like being at home, but you could only expect so much. All things being considered, things were going smoothly. Letty was by your side almost constantly and you had to admit that it was nice to have another woman around in the midst of so much testosterone.

You were trying to find a comfortable position to sit in on the couch in the clubhouse. Nothing really felt comfortable at this point but you still tried. You were ready for lockdown, and your pregnancy, to be finished. You just wanted to be able to hold your baby in the comfort of your own home.

Letty saw you struggling and brought you a glass of ice water, knowing there wasn’t a whole lot else that she could really do for you. You appreciated the gesture, though, and it did help a little just to hold the cold glass in your hands. You were about to thank her when a sharp pain shot through you, catching you off-guard and causing you to drop the glass. It shattered on the ground as you groaned in pain, pressing your hand to your side.

“Fuck,” you tried to take a deep breath but it was hard to breathe through the sudden surge of pain.

“Shit, you okay?” Letty was crouched down by your side in an instant, trying not to step on the broken glass that littered the floor.

“Um, yea. I’m…I’m alright,” you took a steady breath.

“Uh…Y/N?” her eyes grew wide, “Do you…do you want me to call Creep?”

The shooting pain that went through you had temporarily distracted you from the fact that your water broke. You saw the look on Letty’s face, though, and it brought you back to reality. That’s when the anxiety really started to rush through you.

“Are they even here?” you hadn’t seen any of the men in a couple hours, and you had no idea where they had gone off to.

“I’ll go get Chucky and ask,” she stood up.

You grabbed her hand before she could leave, “No! Fuck, sorry just…send someone else. I can’t be here alone.”

“Shit, shit,” she looked around and spotted the newest prospect, “Steve! Go find Chucky or one of the guys. Get them in here now.”

With a nod he took off on his mission, barreling through the front door. Letty crouched back down next to you, trying to find the right things to say to help keep you as calm as possible. You appreciated her efforts but all you could think about was the fact that you might be delivering this baby essentially alone if none of the guys were around or close to being back. Another shot of pain went through you and you cursed, squeezing hard onto Letty’s hand. She cringed but didn’t say anything, trying to be whatever it was that you needed.

Hardly a minute later, the door to the clubhouse swung open and an entire entourage came charging in. Creeper led the pack, practically sprinting over to you. The fact that most of the guys still had on their sunglasses and had helmets dangling from their hands clued you into the fact that they must’ve just gotten back from wherever they had been.

“Are you okay?” he tried to nicely but quickly take Letty’s space by your side, “What do you need? What can I do?”

“I need a fucking hospital,” you grit your teeth through the pain of your next contraction.

“I think it might be too late for that, Y/N,” Bishop said with a slight shake of his head, clearly not thrilled about having to give you that piece of news.

“What?” you and Creeper responded in unison.

“I think you can either give birth here, or in the car on the way to the hospital,” he sounded calm but his brain was racing at a mile a minute, “But I don’t think that baby is gonna wait for the whole commute. The hospital isn’t exactly close.”

“Fuck,” you leaned your head back, nails digging into Creeper’s arm for a moment as you tried to breathe your way through another contraction. You looked over at Bishop, “You sound like you know what you’re talking about, Bishop.”

“I mean, I’ve always had the easy part of things. I just had to stand there and be encouraging.”

“Well,” you waited for his eyes to meet yours, “congrats. You’ve been promoted from presidente to doctor.”

His heart dropped into his stomach and he immediately shook his head, “Y/N, I don’t think—”

“Bishop. It wasn’t a suggestion. You’re the only one who has been through this in present company. Time to step the fuck up,” you impressed yourself with how confident you sounded, because on the inside you felt like you were falling apart, “Plus,” you managed what you could of a laugh, “It’s your clubhouse.”

He was nodding but you could see it in his eyes that he was trying to get a million different thoughts in order. He looked around, trying to figure out what he needed and what had to be moved around and changed in order to get this done. People used to do this with nothing, surely they could all figure it out.

At some point the switch in his brain flipped and he started directing people, the authority shining through in his voice as he sent people off on their miniature missions. He helped you move to the other sofa, leaving the shattered glass behind. There were a million different feelings coursing through you as you watched the clubhouse get turned into a makeshift delivery room. Creeper didn’t leave your side, letting you come close to breaking his hand each time another contraction hit. Through every one he kept his voice calm and level, and if you hadn’t been so overwhelmed you would’ve made a point to thank him. That was the farthest thing from your mind, though.

Neither of you explicitly said anything, but at one point you and Bishop looked at each other and simultaneously recognized that the two of you were going to be a whole different kind of close once this was all over with. You trusted Bishop with your life, like you did with everyone in the MC, but this was going to be a whole new level.

“Hey!” Creeper shouted over the hustle and bustle of the clubhouse, “If you’re not Bishop, or Y/N, get the fuck out.”

You choked out a laugh at the bluntness of his statement. You couldn’t pretend that you weren’t relieved by it though—the last thing you wanted was an audience for this. Once everyone began filing out, he returned his attention to you, gently wiping the sweat off of your forehead.

“You’re doing great, baby,” he nodded encouragingly, “I love you.”

Everything fell away into an extremely painful and exhausting blur. Time meant nothing to you as the three of you got through the whole ordeal together. Each of you was in uncharted territory.  The two of them hid their nerves and uncertainty well, knowing that you had enough to worry about without them adding to the stress.

Bishop took a deep breath as he looked at you. He tried desperately to remember what it was like to be in the delivery room all those years ago, trying to channel the reassurance that the doctors emitted despite the fact that he was wildly unqualified, “Y/N, it’s time to push.”

You were already exhausted, sweating and crying and in pain. The thought of getting through this last stretch almost felt like too much. But when you felt Creeper bracing his hand against your back, his other hand gripping yours tight, you got the slightest bit of a second wind.

Truthfully, you almost blacked out from the pain. At one point you were certain that you broke Creeper’s entire hand and that he wouldn’t be able to ride again from the damage done. Somehow, miraculously, Bishop managed to keep his composure throughout the entire thing. Going through this with you felt like it was much higher stakes than anything he had ever done with the MC. The amount of adrenaline in his system was unreal and he had no idea how he was able to keep his hands steady. Both his and Creeper’s voices sounded extra soothing and reassuring. Focusing on that and your breathing were the only things keeping you tethered to reality as your body became overwhelmed with everything that was happening to it.

You groaned in pain, tears streaming down your face as you locked your fingers around Creeper’s hand, giving one last push. You collapsed backwards, unable to stop your crying as you tried and failed to catch your breath. There wasn’t a single coherent thought in your head as your mind and body tried to sort out everything that it was going through.

Everything else immediately faded away when you heard the sound of your baby crying for the first time. You sat upright, fresh tears in your eyes as you looked at Bishop and the baby. This time, Creeper was the one giving your hand a squeeze.

Bishop carefully wrapped the baby in a blanket and walked towards you, there was a smile on his face, “She’s beautiful.”

A sob slipped past your lips as you held out your arms to take her, a smile taking over your entire face as Bishop gently handed her over to you. You looked at her, unable to believe that you really did it. Glancing over at Creeper, you saw the tears in his eyes as well. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her, reaching out to gently rest her tiny little hand on top of his.

“I’ll give you guys a minute,” he gave Creeper’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze as he walked to leave the clubhouse.

It was just the three of you in the silence of the empty clubhouse. You sniffled, tears still staining your face as you smiled down at your baby. You looked over at your husband, “You wanna hold her?”

It was the first time that he looked up at you, the first time he was able to pry his eyes off of his daughter, “Yea, yea,” his voice was soft and you could tell that he was trying to keep his emotions in check.

You carefully handed her over to him and you could see his entire demeanor shift as he held her. From the second he cradled her in his arms he was an entirely different man. He was whispering things to her that not even you could hear. You rested one hand on his shoulder, shifting your gaze back and forth between him and your daughter.

“We did it, Neron,” your voice was quiet, a little hoarse, “We did it.”

He looked up at you, a smile on his face, “You did it, Mama,” he leaned over and gave you a quick, light kiss on the lips, “You did so good.”

“How’s your hand?” you smiled.

He chuckled, returning his gaze to the baby, “I’ll live,” he glanced up at you, “Not bad for a lockdown delivery, huh?”

You shook your head, “Not bad. Might have to keep Bish on the hook for the next one.”

His eyes lit up, “Next one?”

You leaned against him, “Yea,” you gazed at your daughter, reaching over to trace your thumb lightly along her cheek, “Think your hand can survive another delivery?”

“Anything for you,” he turned his head and pressed a kiss to the side of your head, “I love you.”

You smiled, unable to take your eyes off of the baby, “I love you too.”

[incorrectlumityquotes]

Why Amity fell for Luz: A Theory

Watching all the episodes of The Owl House and reviewing them brought back a lot of thoughts and feelings that I maybe forgot about. We all ship things and sometimes we do it for fun; sometimes for deeper reasons. I just started lumity because it reminded me of Diana & Akko from Little Witch Academia. I loved that show so much that I wanted more, and I thought it would be cool if Luz & Amity did something similar. I had no idea that it was going to go beyond that, so DAMN. To quote a talking science wolf, “For years we ask how, but we should ask why.” I mean, we saw how. But why? Well I can take a guess.

If we’re are going to start anywhere it’s going to be with the girl in question, Amity Blight.

As far as I know as of this typing, Amity Blight is a witchling from The Boiling Isles. She lives in Bonesboro at The Blight Manor estate with her parents and her siblings. She attends Hexside School of Magic and Demonics. Good for her.

Amity has an ambitious and competitive personality. She’s always striving to be better and be at the top of whatever she is doing. When she’s introduced in I Was a Teenage Abomination, she’s showing having great pride in being the top student in her abomination class. In Adventures in the Elements, she goes to The Knee in hopes of training to beat her siblings’ high score on the placement exam.

Amity also has a bit of a temper and gets annoyed easily. In I Was a Teenage Abomination, she sics her abominations on Willow and Luz just because she wasn’t named top student that day. In Enchanting Grom Fright, Amity snapped at the person she bumped into before realizing it was Luz. And later in the same episode, Amity beat up Hooty when he decided to get too close.

But she does have a soft sensitive side. She keeps a diary in her secret room in the library and even reads to kids in her free time. Amity also has a strong sense of integrity. She despises cheating (and cheaters) and feels guilt when she’s forced to break ties with Willow.

So why did someone like this fall for Luz of all people? (see above image)

Enter what I call my Shipping Theory of Compliments

The Shipping Theory of Compliments is that two characters would be shipped and sometimes canonically enter a romantic relationship based on their personalities complimenting each other and fulfilling elements they don’t have alone necessary to developing the character.

People like to use the image of a missing puzzle piece, but I don’t like that comparison because I think it’s a little inaccurate and I don’t like puzzles. Think of it more like the two pieces of the yin and yang coming together and then growing the circles of the opposite colors in them.

Something like that.

And it’s compliments, not opposites. When you think compliments, think more Star and Marco from Star vs the Forces of Evil. Star wants to go on a magical adventure. Marco also wants to go on a magic adventure. The difference is that Star goes in recklessly while Marco wants to plan it out a bit. They still have their adventure as oppose to Star’s opposite who wouldn’t want to go on a magical adventure. That sort of thing.

So how do Luz and Amity compliment each other?

Let’s start with that they have in common. Obvious stuff aside, they’re both training to become the best witches they can be. The difference comes that Luz is a human who has to learn magic via glyphs that she finds and Amity learns magic the “proper” way on The Boiling Isles. 

Luz and Amity are also both fans of The Good Witch Azura book series. Difference is that Luz is more open about her fandom while Amity tries to keep it a secret. Also petty thing but they’re both fan artists too, but I think Luz might be a better than Amity. But hey, her crosshatching is improving.

Luz and Amity are also (at the start of the series) both lonely people. Luz’s mom says that she doesn’t have any friends, and Amity doesn’t like her “friends.” The difference is that Luz reaches outward to ease her loneliness (being social and friendly, trying new things, etc.) while Amity reaches inward (keeping a diary, staying busy, having a secret spot, etc.). They both also use escapist fiction to ease their loneliness.

That’s all well and good, but now we get into the real speculative parts. 

...complimenting each other and fulfilling elements they don’t have alone necessary to developing the character.

When I was taking acting classes I was taught that the way you see people act is a persona based on their experiences on what it takes to survive and avoid physical, emotional and social death. So now we have to speculate based on what we were given on what emotional/social needs and wants has Amity not been getting before that she has with Luz.

First let me point you to another show called F is for Family. F is for Family is an adult animated sitcom on Netflix that follows a very dysfunctional family in the 1970s. These are legitimately bad characters, not in terms of being poorly written. What I’m saying is that these guys are assholes. But here’s where it gets interesting.

One of the characters is Kevin Murphy, the teenage son of the family. He’s a dim-witted wannabe rockstar who is always yelled at and put down by his parents throughout the entire series. However in season four Kevin meets Alice. Alice teaches Kevin that his favorite band is a big reference to Tolkien and gives him a copy of The Hobbit. They bond over their love of Lord of the Rings and get along really well. Alice calls him smart for being able to read all of Lord of the Rings over a few days and never puts him down. Even in the one time they did fight she never yelled at him or raised her voice which he found weird because he’s so used to being yelled at. Alice gave Kevin the emotional support he always wanted but never got from his family.

Using that as a backdrop, let’s go back to Amity.

Amity grew up with her parents making her do things she didn’t want to do, making choices for her. Amity wanted to be one way. Her parents wanted something else. Amity’s mother even dyes Amity’s hair green so it matches her siblings. Amity wanted to be friends with Willow. Amity’s parents wanted her to be friends with the mean kids. While Amity does work hard to be the best at what she’s doing, her parents also put pressure on her to make sure that she is at that level. 

Her siblings are another bag of awful. They constantly refer to her by an annoying nickname that I’m guessing has an embarrassing moment attached to it. They seem to live by a double standard that Amity despises. She has to work hard and follow the rules just to be accepted while they are naturally talented and break the rules with everyone still thinking that they’re perfect. 

Family is supposed to provide unconditional love except it looks like the love of the Blights is based on conditions. Nobody just likes Amity for who she is. She doesn’t have a friend.

Enter: the friendliest person she’s ever met

Amity has to struggle and work for the simplest things, even affection. Except when it comes to Luz. Luz is naturally friendly and positive. Amity doesn’t have to earn her kindness. Even when she’s bullied Luz before, Luz is always coming back with a smile. I suppose when you live life surrounded by jerks, you’ll want to hang out with the one person who’s always nice to you. Sort of.

Yes, Amity did think Luz was a bully for constantly getting her into trouble. But even at Covention and Lost in Language, Luz kept reaching out to her. This combined with Amity’s awareness of her own behavior is what convinced her to try to reach out in kind to Luz by the end of Lost in Language. “She’s trying to be nice to me, so I should try too,” I’m guessing is the mindset especially in Adventures in the Elements. And then...Luz continued to be nice to her which is kind of a big deal for Amity.

Let’s tally up what we have so far:

Luz and Amity have similar interests (The Good Witch Azura series, art, fiction, learning magic)

Luz and Amity have similar values (work ethic, disdain for cheating, protecting those closest to you, etc.)

Luz gives Amity the positivity and affection that Amity doesn’t normally get anywhere else

They still have differing personalities with Amity being more competitive and Luz having more of a live-and-let-live attitude.

Even with all these things in mind, why was Amity so scared to ask Luz to Grom?

Speculating again but my theory is that Amity wasn’t sure if Luz actually liked her or if Luz is just friendly because that’s how Luz is. Amity was scared of being rejected because she felt that maybe she was just reading the situation wrong. Luz is this ray of sunshine in her gray skies (if you’ll forgive the cliché). People like Amity always think of all the worst possibilities (I know because I do this too). Amity was probably thinking a bunch of what ifs. “What if Luz doesn’t actually like me? What if she’s just being friendly because she feels sorry for me? What if she has feelings for someone else? What if she never actually liked me? What if she’s straight?”

Luz is Amity’s first crush and it is scary as all hell to put yourself out there like that for the first time. She wasn’t expecting to get married at Grom night. She just wanted to dance with the girl she liked.

The dance at Grom was like confirmation for her that it could happen. Amity didn’t have to ask out Luz because Luz asked her. Being with Luz isn’t a pipedream. It’s a definite possibility. And we all know how she reacted to that idea.

Uh...she’ll be in her bunk.

While Luz and Amity aren’t together as of this typing, I believe it’s bound to happen. Until then, after The Lumity Trilogy, Amity knows that Luz is the girl she likes. 

tl;dr version

Amity fell for Luz because they have similar interests and values, their personalities differ in a compatible way and Luz provides Amity emotional needs and wants that she doesn’t get anywhere else.

Also, round eared girl pretty.

.

Thanks everyone for reading.

[itsclydebitches]

TBH I think the whole "You didn't have an issue with this in 'insert x show here' but you have an issue with it in RWBY? What are you, sexist?" thing can easily be defused with a simple, "How did RWBY present this plot-point compared to the show I like?"

Sure, technically Cinder Fall and Darth Maul are the 'same' character, but how are the two presented in their respective shows? Cinder eats up screentime and none of it goes anywhere and gets frustrating. Maul is a relatively minor villain that had one season's worth of attention in CW and then was the villain of a few episodes throughout Rebels before getting killed off.

The only reason someone would be confused as to why people like Maul but hate Cinder is if they just read the two's respective wiki pages.

Really the whole "Your issues with RWBY are just subconscious misogyny" is just some people wanting to slap labels onto others so they can feel validated on not agreeing with their opinions.

Generally speaking, I'm wary of any take that boils down to a single sentence, "You're just [insert accusation here]." Not because such accusations are always 100% without merit—with a canon dealing with as many sensitive subjects as RWBY, combined with a fandom as large and diverse as it has become, you're bound to come across some people whose "criticism" stems primarily from bigotry—but because such dismissive summaries never tackle the problem a fan has pointed out. If one fan goes, "Ruby's plan was foolish because [reasons]" and the response to that is "You just can't handle a woman leader," then that response has failed to disprove the argument presented. The thing about "criticism" based in bigotry is that there isn't actually a sound argument attached because, you know, the only "argument" here is "I don't like people who aren't me getting screen time." So you can spot that really easily. The person who is actually misogynistic is going to be spouting a lot of rants about how awful things are... but very little evidence as to why it's awful, leaving only the fact that our characters are women as the (stupid) answer.

And yes, there is something to be said for whether, culturally, we're harder on women characters than we are men. Are we subconsciously more critical of what women do in media simply because we have such high expectations for that representation and, conversely, have become so used to such a variety of rep for men—including endlessly subpar/outright bad stories—that we're more inclined to shrug those mistakes off? That's absolutely worth discussing, yet at the same time, acknowledging that doesn't mean those criticisms no longer exist. That's where I've been with the Blake/Yang writing for a while now. I think fans are right to point out that we may be holding them to a higher standard than we demand of straight couples, but that doesn't mean the criticisms other fans have of how the ship has been written so far are without merit. Those writing mistakes still exist even if we do agree that they would have been overlooked in a straight couple—the point is they shouldn't exist in either. Both are still bad writing, no matter whether we're more receptive to one over the other. Basically, you can be critical of a queer ship without being homophobic. Indeed, in an age where we're getting more queer rep than ever before, it's usually the queer fans who are the most critical. Because we're the ones emotionally invested in it. The true homophobes of the fandom either dropped RWBY when the coding picked up, or spend their time ranting senselessly about how the ship is horrible simply because it exists, not because of how it's been depicted. Same for these supposed misogynists. As a woman, I want to see Ruby and the others written as complex human beings, which includes having them face up to the mistakes they've made. The frustration doesn't stem from me hating women protagonists, but rather the fact that they're written with so little depth lately and continually fall prey to frustrating writing decisions.

And then yeah, you take all those feelings, frustrations, expectations, and ask yourself, "Have I seen other shows that manage this better?" Considering that RWBY is a heavily anime-inspired show where all the characters are based off of known fairy tales and figures... the answer is usually a resounding, "Yes." As you say, I keep coming across accusations along the lines of, "People were fine with [insert choice here] when [other show] did it," as if that's some sort of "Gotcha!" moment proving a fan was bigoted all along, when in fact the answer is right there: Yes, we were okay with it then because that show did it better. That show had the setup, development, internal consistency, and follow through that RWBY failed to produce, which is precisely what we were criticizing in the first place.

What I also think is worth emphasizing here is how many problems RWBY has developed over the last couple of years (combining with the problems it had at the start). Because, frankly, audiences are more forgiving of certain pitfalls when the rest of the show is succeeding. I think giving a Star Wars example exemplifies that rather well. No one is going to claim that Star Wars is without its problems (omg does it have problems lol), but there's enough good there in most individual stories to (usually) keep the fans engaged. That doesn't mean that they're not going to point out those criticisms when given the chance, just that disappointment isn't the primary feeling we come away with. Obviously in a franchise this size there are always exceptions (like the latest trilogy...), but for most it's a matter my recent response to The Bad Batch, "I have one major criticism surrounding a character's arc and its impact on the rest of the cast, and we definitely need to unpack the whitewashing... but on the whole yes, it was a very enjoyable, well written show that I would recommend to others." However, for many fans now, we can't say the same of RWBY. Yang getting KO'ed by Neo in a single hit leads into only Blake reacting to her "death" which reminds viewers of the lack of sisterly development between Yang and Ruby which segues into a subpar fight which messes with Cinder's already messy characterization which leads to Ruby randomly not using her silver eye to save herself which leaves Jaune to mercy kill Penny who already died once which gives Winter the powers when she could have just gotten it from the start which results in a favorite character dying after his badly written downfall and all of it ends with Jaune following our four woman team onto the magical island... and that's just two episodes. The mistakes snowball. RWBY's writing is broken in numerous ways and that's what fans keep pointing to. Any one of these examples isn't an unforgivable sin on its own, but the combination of all of them, continuously, representing years worth of ongoing issues results in that primary feeling of, "That was disappointing."

Looking at some of the more recent posts around here, fans aren't upset that Ruby is no longer interested in weaponry because that character trait is Oh So Important and its lack ruins the whole show, they're upset because Ruby, across the series, lacks character, so the removal of one trait is more of a problem than it would be in a better written character. What are her motivations? Why doesn't she seek answers to these important questions? Why is her special ability so inconsistent? Where's her development recently? What makes Ruby Ruby outside of wielding a scythe and wanting to help everyone, a very generic character trait for a young, innocent protagonist? We used to be able to say that part of her character was that obsession and we used to hope that this would lead to more interesting developments: Will Ruby fix/update their weapons? Is her scythe dependency the reason why others need to point out how her semblance can develop? What happens if she is weaponless? Surely that will lead to more than just a headbutt... but now we've lost hope that this trait will go anywhere, considering it has all but disappeared. Complaints like these are short-hand criticism for "Ruby's character as a whole needs an overhaul," which in turn is a larger criticism of the entire cast's iffy characterization (Who is Oscar outside Ozpin? Why was Weiss' arc with her father turned into a joke and concluded without her? etc.) and that investment speaks to wanting her to be better. We want Ruby to be a better character than she currently is, like all those other shows we've seen where the women shine. Reducing that to misogyny isn't just inaccurate, but the exact opposite of what most fans are going for in their criticisms.

[paper-cloud]

i. the crushing weight of what happens next

part of "(there will be a) tomorrow"

fandom: prospect (2018) characters: ezra, cee rating: T words count: ~3K context: post-canon general warnings/tags: see series masterlist warnings/tags for this chapter: ezra's pov. angst. not graphic descriptions of wounds, blood and amputated limbs. mentions of minor characters' death. (probably very) inaccurate but anyways vague descriptions of medical treatments and post-anesthesia symptoms. taglist: @ravensmutty @buttercup--bee @thegreenkid (again, thank you all for your interest and encouragement! :3) @krissology @ezrasarm @bonktime (please forgive my nerve, i won't tag you in the next chapters unless you'll explicitly ask me to! just thought about someone else who might be interested and you guys are AMAZINGLY talented and inspiring "prospect"/ezra writers. it's not my intention to waste precious moments of your time! 🤡

[SERIES MASTERLIST] [MAIN MASTERLIST]

He'd have thought it was almost ironic – opening his eyes to the light only to see nothing. To feel pain.

He'd have laughed about it, most likely. A bit later, he'd have acknowledged it was a reasonably fair compromise; for him and any other wretch that'd ever dared play dice with darkness and miraculously made it out alive.

And in the very end he'd come to laugh at himself, too.

He knows the drill. Someone who trades their own life with the contract of the highest bidder doesn't see the universe in black and white, let alone is in a position to draw the hypothetical line between the two of them.

Must be an even more wicked universe than he's ever cared about, then.

At least, that's where the struggle of opening his eyes made him stumble upon; when a blade of light thrust through that hint of a gap he'd pushed himself to create in the middle, resonating through the dark coils of unconsciousness like a harsh, unforgiving bell.

A skilled mariner over silky rivers of natural redundancy and rapids of professional edges, Ezra is a man who can appreciate a sharp wit when he recognizes one.

That was too much even for him.

Floundering in between a blinding whiteness and a black hole that wasn't even completely black, but permeated by a thick, suffocating haze that filled every ghost haunting his mind with its stench. With the color of diabolically lush leaves.

Forest— spores— poison— death.

It hadn't been enough to let him dangle in apnea above a roaring vortex of lifeless emerald; take him away from the grey flow whose elusiveness he'd come to appreciate more than he'd ever hated to endure its chaos— from the bubble built on the routine series of one last jobs that, in the end, never really were.

There'd been a moment when, from the higher parts of the room, his pupils tumbled down, tripping over a patch of green discreetly lurking in a corner.

He almost threw up.

It had taken him a while to clear out the misty grit clotted in his corneas— focus on white walls, light wood paneling... a harmless seedling in a pot.

He'd breathed heavily, deeply. He sure hadn't got much relief from it. Still, he'd been able to hear its sound, louder than he'd ever heard it before, the musical, cooling mesh of oxygen particles in and out of his lungs almost begging his fingers to be touched.

Oxygen.

Fresh air.

Had he been less sore – less convinced it was just the residual effects of anesthesia pulling pranks on him –, he would have burst out laughing. Even more so if some poor soul of the medical staff nearby would have called for reinforcements from the other side of the space station before storming into his room.

He'd be laughing now, too. The best he can manage is sitting on his bed, leaning his back on the headboard – which is what he's struggling to do right now— and well, sometimes the room lighting still slightly bothers him. Of course, with all the painkillers and antibiotics they've given him, he wouldn't feel like the wound on his stomach is swallowing the entire arsenal of stitches and bandages.

He just wouldn't like her to get the wrong idea.

He blinks several times, like a man who no longer trusts his eyes. How can he, when they're burning like that, in such a different fire from the one from days before – damp and flickering? For reasons he can imagine, she seems to be faltering. Totally beyond his comprehension, he could swear she's smiling at him. Something inside his ribcage creaks oddly, while the curve of his chest arches upward.

"Birdie."

It's just a huff of breath, weak and hoarse, yet scratches his throat all the same, in a way that its walls feel studded with rock spurs. Actually, Ezra doesn't remember talking since they left the Green behind – which, being him, is saying something – and it's like an eternity has passed since their pod docked up there.

The nurse who let her into his room has just left and Cee sinks her hands into the pockets of her sweatpants. She's still smiling— just the faded shadow of a smile, now that he takes a better look at her.

"How's your wound?"

It sounds a lot less plain than he expected.

She hasn't moved towards him any further, and for now she's not showing any hints at wanting to. In her irises, Ezra recognizes thumping stars and cerulean clouds, all clustered in the black circle cut by the large porthole next to his bed. All before catching the thin mist veiling them. As if she did want to reach those stars, let herself get carried away by those streams of bluish dust, but she had no idea how or what to do there.

He looks down, the borders of the bandages over his abdomen slightly raised under his black short-sleeved tee. He clears his throat.

"S'healin' nicely", he says, with a deliberate lightheartedness that costs him a sharp, bizarre inflection in his voice. He closes his eyes soon after, tilting his head condescendingly. "That's how the nurse feels about it, anyway... S'not like I can feel much more right now."

This reminds him of those vacuous moments between brief, chaotic waking states and delirious dreams. When he'd managed to reconnect some essential key points scattered around in the talks of surgeons and nurses; the weariness he felt from simply gathering he was on a space station due to enter the orbit of Mesos in three cycles and something standard hours. All while his only solid reference point – the only indisputable proof he was still alive – was the sequence of beeps chirped by the medical monitor perched nearby. Constant, not monotonous. Friendly, even. Sometimes, he actually comes to miss it.

"A trust fall to the extreme, I'd guess", he snorts, a sly laugh as weak and heavy as the words trudging out of his mouth. As the whole rest of him.

Whatever answer she's considering, Cee freezes it in a quick purse of her lips – maybe a nod, but for his own good he'd rather be doubtful. Then she starts looking around.

There's a chair under the board firmly anchored to the opposite wall – probably a desk or something he's never needed to test, whatsoever. She grabs it and puts it next to his bed. She sits down, bringing her legs to her chest, squeezing them in her arms.

Waiting for what, Ezra has no idea, and he's afraid she doesn't have any, either.

He doesn't speak, though, nor does he encourage her to do the same. Her pearly gaze roams steadily but unhurriedly from him to somewhere beyond him, her nose buried in the gap between her knees. He studies her carefully, two purple crescents above her cheeks, a few hair strands swinging down her face without her wiping them out. The nights she's slept through haven't been any more peaceful than his.

Trust, he recalls in the meantime.

It sure brings an odd taste to his mouth. Something close to sweaty spacesuits, grimy paths and gone-off ration bars. A single word for two human beings forced to share the same air filter for days; that, and the image of a dead body left to rot miles behind and the desperate commitment not to end up in the same way.

His gaze just happens to trip over his right side, taking in the deflated sleeve over the emptiness that saved his life. When he lifts it back to the girl, meeting her eyes just before they can flutter away, he realizes they were both looking at the same spot. And he realizes something else— something he's already understood, yet not quite.

There is no tube binding them now.

"Why d'you do it?", he mumbles a split second later, almost like somehow the thread of his question has immediately knotted to the one of his previous thought.

He huffs. He shouldn't even have asked her, in all honesty. Seeing her like this, at least he should have put it in another way, danced around it, it's not like he’s never been good at stalling, after all—

"Comin' back", Ezra says instead, and when he swallows, he mainly does it to send his heart back down his throat. If he'd died without being given the last chance to be this straightforward on this matter, he would have probably kicked his ass all the way to the other side. 

This time, Cee doesn't avoid his gaze. He shouldn't be surprised by how collected she looks, given the calmness she handled his infected arm with and then told him about when she used to slip into Jata Bhalu carcasses. But he can't help it when he thinks she can't be much older now than what she was then.

He watches her breathing in, wobbling her pupils here and there, seemingly considering his words. She's not afraid, not any more than what she seemed to be when she walked into his room. Maybe she's just better than him at playing pretend – but this, he can't tell whether it's more of a good than a bad thing. Especially for her.

One thing he can tell is that she's not the same girl who pointed a trembling gun at him before running away into the woods. He knows she's not afraid.

He knows...

So is it the hunter's instinct he has to blame if he feels she is?

"Guess I've seen too much death on that forsaken moon to just... turn my back on one I can help– one I can do something about."

If he was standing in front of an entire mountain crumbling down into the ocean, he wouldn't hear its sound. ‘Wouldn't even be the worst he deserves. She did hesitate before adding the last few words, but Ezra refuses to believe she did that because she was afraid of hurting him. He may be a wretch, but not a fool.

Kevva, for a man who's always managed to untwist himself from far tougher situations with the tangles of his tongue alone, he's sure having a deal of trouble – and he wishes he could put all the blame on his current physical condition.

There is no word he doesn't have to weigh carefully now, to prevent it from taking too sharp edges once out of his lips. He may float around it forever. But once he's let her go without saying anything, he'll hardly find the courage to look within himself again, more than after any other job that hardened his hands with calluses and tarnished his eyes with blood.

He doesn't know for sure. In fact, everything he was sure to know – about the turning direction of the universe and the one of the wheels in his head – has already collapsed in front of him, tracing a flaming tail. An unforgiving meteor following a trajectory far beyond his grasp.

He just knows silence scares him, in a way that a wrong word will never do again. It terrifies him. More than as a talkative person, as a castaway on a hostile moon for too many cycles to keep their count – with the only company of a mute. Silence is green; the green of the most poisonous pollen, lethal in his brain just like toxic spores enveloped in his lungs. The green of snake scales ready to stand and scratch his flesh until liquid crimson pours out of it.

And at the end of the day, this is the only fucking thing he can tell himself to know without having his guts churning and chest heaving a beat later.

"Stop looking at me like that."

It's more of an exhausted prayer than an annoyed remark. Ezra blinks, stunned by the sudden return from the shapeless stream of his thoughts.

"Like what?"

"Like you're looking for the words to thank me", Cee settles back into her chair and this time she lets one leg touch the floor, "Tell me you owe me, and you– you're sorry about what you did."

Ezra sniffles. "Would it be bad?" 

"No, it—". She closes her eyes for a moment, clenching her jaw. "Just no good", she breathes out, calmer.

And the discordant note in those words conjures up ghosts not yet vague enough for Ezra to be able to tolerate them without something twinging inside him— like a violent flutter of wings. Voices groping their way up ravels of compromises. Damon, deep in the forest. Himself, with the mercenaries in the Queen's Lair. Cee, days before that. After he—

She's right— those words she hasn't said yet, but whose shadow he feels looming every time he catches her wetting her lips.

Some things just can't be split evenly.

"This is not the Green", she states, suddenly more confident but no less exhausted. "If you're going to hang around just because you need to, once we reach Mesos¹ you'd better be on your way."

Ezra doesn't interrupt her. A faded echo starts making its way into his ears. A former prospecting partner, many years ago. An easy job on a forgettable Fringe moon.

Gems don't have an expiration date. Deals do. Strike 'em if you need to, get rid of them as soon as you can. Unless you care to dig a quicker way to your grave.

He didn't pay attention to it, then. He'd thought it was just the empty rhetoric prospectors drop absentmindedly to fill the time between an unrewarding digging and the next. All the more so under the rickety advice of a couple too many.

His eyes still wide open, hands shaky, he merely reciprocated the awkward bottle lift of his partner, whom he didn't know more than the meanders of that quarry. A toast to a faceless future – a nothingness still more reassuring than what was all around and behind them. Not to the darkness of the cave, basically unbreakable if only for the red halo thrown by the twinkles of sharp, sinister Prystines². Not even to the two poor bastards that had set out with them, ending up skewered a few hundred paces behind – one by mistake, the other to return the favor of saving him from the clutches of a furious Aiu³.

Like an idiot.

Several contracts later preventing him from missing a beat in front of similar hiccups, the logic of that statement no longer sounds so absurd to Ezra. Luckily for him, Cee understood it long before him.

"I was just lookin' for the words to tell ya you'll be better off without me—"

Half a truth. Half a heartbeat. After all, she isn't the only one of them who knows how to sell it.

He leans his head back against the headboard, eyes half-closed, a sly grin baring a couple of his upper teeth. It would almost be intimidating, except that the glint hitting them doesn't quite match the dying one in his eyes.

"—But you beat me to it", he finishes, and he sounds like he's about to fall asleep.

He slowly turns his head away, looks through the porthole. His gaze clutches to the passing asteroids outside, distant nebulae spraying the sidereal black with hues of purple, blue, red— then green, again. A climbing plant squeezing him from the inside, discomfort starts creeping on him an inch of his body – what's left of it – at a time.

He doesn't want her to think he's angry at her, and it's the only concrete foothold emerging from the fluid, magmatic chaos in his mind.

How could he be, when she came back to get him?

She didn't have to.

She doesn't have to be here, either...

"I'm sorry", she suddenly blurts out.

He meets her eyes again, a mix of bewilderment and disapproval shading his own. He shakes his head.

"Don't."

"I just—". She starts fiddling with the extra fabric created by the folds of her sweatpants. Then she sighs deeply. "I have no idea what I'm gonna do now."

He snorts. "Not that it's s'pposed to make you feel any better, but... neither do I."

He doesn't have a hazy helmet choking the glimmer in his eyes, an air filter breaking some frequencies in his voice— maybe just those making him sound sincere, while saving those trapping him into the swamp of self-loathing.

He was nothing but honest when he told her the rules of the game on the Green. When he openly admitted he was a killer, and when he assured her he wouldn't trade her for the Sater's Aurelac. And she's always seemed to believe him, maybe for that kind of desperate inertia that washes over people when they need something to cling to. Whatever the case, Ezra can only hope she wants to believe him now. But she doesn't speak, and for a moment his fear of not saying enough overcomes that of crossing her boundaries.

"But w—", he immediately bites his tongue, "—you still have three cycles to figure things out. Someone up here will be able to help you. Even so, please know you'll always have my most sincere gratitude."

The effort of lining up all those words and so few pauses to catch his breath casts a thick fog over his ears. His eyes suddenly hurt again and he finds himself squinting.

What happens next, he just records it, hardly managing to follow each cause-effect relationship. A series of events softly raining on him without making a noise, while he can quite imagine them to be way more prolonged in time. Cee leaning towards the lighting panel on the wall, sliding her finger counterclockwise, and the white coating the walls turning less painfully bright; her getting up, walking away, dwelling just before the door. "I'll come to check on you tomorrow", she says, sniffling.

She tilts her head, holding his gaze in her watery one for an agonizingly slow while – Please, don't ask me why.

He blinks once – Of course.

Then, the automatic door is once again engulfed by the wall, closing behind her with a metallic rustle.

Tomorrow.

His heart is taken by a spiraling jolt that leaves an empty cave behind. When it falls back into place, Ezra finds something has tripped in there, shapeless and quivering like the nucleus of a newborn star.

Hope, terror and everything that lies in between. 

___________________

NOTES:

1) Mesos — Invented planet. Its only raison d'être is that "mésos" in Greek means "middle" and my intent was to frame this story in a moment of transition (after those of movies) for both Ezra and Cee. 2) Prystines — Invented kind of crystals. They're implied to be huge, red and very sharp, thus endangering the path through the cave. 3) Aiu — Invented predator, ideally a big feline.

A/N:

Yeah, uhm... at this point, if someone was ever to give me any kind of feedback, constructive criticism or random thought, I think I'd just melt into a puddle for the attention alone. And to all those who came all the way down here, your bravery shall not be forgotten. ♥️✨

In my defense, it's (almost) all P**** P*****'s fault & of his habit of taking orphans under his wing from one planet to another.

I know people in the fandom generally tend to make Ezra and Cee go along straight away after the movie, so this will be a slightly different take on things, I guess... But even if I don't know if I'll keep this series going atm (life & maturity exam suck), a final reconciliation is definitely on the way. ;)

Oh, and any beta reader that should feel like helping me out for when I'll have the next chapters ready is warmly welcomed! My DMs are always open and I swear I don't bite! :3

[queer-crusader]

Finally finishing Loki and I just... I'm disappointed. Putting opinions under the cut.

Like, I've seen the criticism, I got spoilered, and I won't lie, it definitely influenced my further viewing. But even so, it disappointed me. I don't think the whole "Loki not even being the main character of his own show" is as egregious as Tumblr made it out to be for me, though yes, a LOT of focus was put on Sylvie - her revenge narrative, Loki just being along for the ride ("a flea on a dragon's back". Thanks for being self-aware, show). To me, there are other frustrating factors.

"Glorious purpose" seems the catch-phrase of this show. Which seems... stupid, to be honest. When Loki uttered it in the Avengers film, there was a clear madness to him. Marvel claimed officially that Loki was under the influence of the mind stone by then, but the show still thinks that was genuinely Loki talking - and it is something all Lokis seem to agree on.

Then there's the whole throne thing. Loki mentions near the end that he doesn't want a throne. He says it like he's finally had a realisation, like this is his emotional growth. But it ISN'T. This show is set after Thor 1, in which Loki very clearly says to Thor: "I never wanted the throne. I only ever wanted to be your equal." So this is not some grand revelation. This has always been the case, and something he was fiercely aware of. He's never wanted to be a ruler.

"Don't you want to win in New York? Kill Thanos?" This is more of a headcanon, but one shared by much of the fandom - a headcanon marvel can't have missed, since they saw our collective outcries that Loki was brainwashed and claimed it canon years after The Avengers, just because they couldn't ignore it anymore if they were making a show about Loki. Anyway, the collective headcanon is this: Loki didn't want to win in New York. His plan was doomed to fail from the start. Earth is unruleable, a space army coming through one wormhole and the gate has a built-in self-destruct button. He scattered the Avengers, but he also got them together. The headcanon was that he planned it all, in a way that seemed good to Thanos, but was meant to make him fail.

As to killing Thanos, yeah, he deserves that. In fact, Retro Loki says it beautifully - the knives look cool but are fucking useless, something Loki should know without getting his neck snapped by the Mad Titan. Thanks for spelling out something obvious, again something the fandom has been yelling about since Infinity War came out! Did the writers steal Retro Loki's survival tactic off a Tumblr post? Because it feels a little like it, almost in an attempt to soft-retcon that film. "We can't fix that dumb plot point, but we can show that we understand Loki better, that we you came up with a better idea of what could have been." Again, thanks.

This show is just full of the writers showing us things we already knew. They make Loki a bumbling idiot - and I get it, conflict is the heart of western storytelling, but he doesn't need to be incompetent to struggle. The thing is, were they to make him as formidable and clever as we once felt he was, they would have needed to make his adversaries even cleverer. And much as I enjoy certain bits of the story (croki my beloved)... I just don't think they were quite up to that task. It all feels like a fanfic, which on the one hand, can be fan service. But on the other hand, it feels like a Frankenstein fanfic. A puzzle of stolen tropes from fics the writers have read and put together, none of it quite their own. I'm making assumptions and not being very forgiving, but this is just how I feel.

And that brings me to my next and almost final point. What really hammers the fanfiction feeling home for me is all the self-reflection. It can be done and it can be done well, but this show didn't do it well. The self-reflection felt out of character, disingenuous, inaccurate, and clunky.

The writing is clunky, and at times rushed. And it's just... almost bad at times. There wasn't a single moment where I went "oh this is revolutionary" or "this quote will haunt me". Most of it was incredibly mediocre. This absolutely includes the quote where Loki canonically notes that he's bi/pan/not straight. Russel T Davies said it spectacularly; marvel/Disney pats itself on the back with each weak nod to the LGBTQ+ community. If they want to be ground-breaking, they'll have to do better than a queer on-screen kiss.

And speaking of kisses: I just... No. I don't have anything against selfcest in fics, I'm not afraid to admit I've read it before, and in canon media it can be utilised in fascinating and clever ways. This show did not do that. To have Loki berate himself, only to romantically fall for another version of himself that is, let's be real, very different from him, is not some deep representation of growth and self-love to me. It is once again clunky. You want growth? Stick to those self-reflections and do better, or become more metaphorical. Either way, write more cleverly.

I'm sorry, my standards are high, and this just didn't meet it. I appreciate the effort! I'm glad someone with love for this character tried to make something of it! But it fell on its ass, and came out as a butchering of a beloved character only to make space for a hopeful replacement. That to me is a massive failure, and not one I can forgive easily. Your show is called Loki. Act like it. And if making it a love letter to him and us was your intention, do better.

[shinhatigf]

okay so I do have an anakin fix it au floating around in my brain in which revenge of the sith goes as well as it possibly could BUT that's not the important part of this post the IMPORTANT part is what happens to maul in this au. (disclaimer: all I know about maul's backstory is from watching the clone wars and reading his wookiepedia page so some of this might be inaccurate. bear with me)

okay so because order 66 didn't happen, maul is brought before the council. he was sith so the council would want to deal with him personally

I think with palpatine dead (fully and completely 100% dead no take backs) the influence of the dark side everywhere would be lessened. everyone would feel a lot clearer, happier, brighter, like a dark cloud had been lifted from their mind. this would include maul.

however, for maul, diving deep into the dark side has been something of a coping mechanism. amassing as much power as possible and giving yourself over to this dark higher power means you don't have the contemplate the fact that you were stolen from your family and home world and fed incredibly damaging rhetoric from the man who 1) let you die 2) immediately upon finding out you were still alive electrocuted the fuck out of you and killed the last part of your family and (imo) the only person you ever truly loved

so maul upon arriving to the jedi council, while slightly less affected by the dark side, is still full of pure rage, hate, and a clusterfuck of other emotions brought about by thinking about the jedi. he's a whole disaster

okay this is going to get very very long I'm going to put a read more here

I imagine some in the council would like to kill or exile him and be done with it, but after the inherent trauma of the clone wars and seeing how far separated from their ideals the jedi order has become, they'd show him mercy. this part may not necessarily make 100% sense but shut up this is the good things for maul au maul gets good things

therefore, the council would vote in favor of rehabilitation. what I imagine this would look like is maul would be heavily guarded and watched, and whenever possible he would be visited by jedi masters (and masters ONLY. they're not dumb)

maul gets his own quarters, which are big enough not to be stifling or tiny but small enough to still fit in a jedi temple where they value austerity and forsaking possessions. they would want to give maul as much freedom as possible while making sure he couldn't be a threat to anyone around him, which would mean he doesn't have much freedom at all. he's fed and watered and visited by at least one jedi master a day. these visits are usually someone meditating and trying to rehabilitate maul's mind while not being openly invading, rather guiding maul's broken mind into its natural state and removing palpatine's influence. these visits are also good old fashioned therapy (maul desperately needs to talk some shit out)

it would take a very very very long time but with guided meditation and constant consistent kindness and understanding shown to him by the jedi maul would start to heal. one of the major things that palpatine forcibly shoved into his brain is a distrust and particular hatred for the jedi, but after spending so many years in their care and with constant (almost annoying) understanding that belief system would start to break down.

it would start small. like one day maybe instead of feeling rage and anger around savage's death he feels sadness because for the first time he's in an environment where he has the space to breathe and remember his brother

I think once maul has actually started to improve a little bit and moved past his rage and murder phase that's when obi-wan would visit him. which would definitely bring back some rage and murder but also it would bring maul some closure. I'd imagine they'd both need some sort of closure, considering maul killed qui gon and obi-wan essentially killed him. but obi-wan saying something like "I forgive you. I'm not your enemy." that might throw a wrench into maul's thinking

so over time, maul is becoming less and less emotionally tumultuous. he's in a stable environment in which a set group of people visit him daily solely for the purpose of rehabilitating him, both through the force and just regular conversation as equals. eventually, after enough time in this environment, whoever maul is beneath the rage and pain and the dark side would emerge

this is the side of maul that I wrote this for. this is why he's one of my favorites.

maul is deeply intelligent, and rather calculating. while he usually forgoes rational thought to scream "kenOBIIIIIII" into the night he's very good at assessing a situation and how to get the best possible outcome. he feels things very deeply but he's incredibly bad at naming exactly what his feelings are and he's not very good at reading the emotions of others. I think a flaw of his is that he really forgets to take emotions into account, while for the jedi that's kind of their whole thing. (yeah the jedi are stereotyped as unfeeling warriors but that's not true at all, they acknowledge and release their feelings into the force. for them their feelings are the force.)

I think one day when maul is beyond resisting his existence at the jedi temple, when he slowly realizes "hey my life sucks a whole lot less than before" he manages to actually solve a problem for one of the masters who visits him regularly and has become the closest thing he can really have to a friend. said master (maybe kit fisto just because I like kit fisto) rants about a problem or a mission that they're having and maul just goes "well it's obvious, really." and manages to solve the problem like that by nature of his unique perspective.

and after a looong amount of time has passed, maul's role shifts from enemy, victim, and a patient to being a voice of rationality, a problem-solver, and someone to rant to when the whole jedi master thing gets to be A Lot™

seriously though I cannot stress how long it would take for maul to heal and get to this point. MINIMUM five years.

eventually maul and some people he's forged friendships with petition the council to allow him to have some more freedom. while extremely hesitant, without palps clouding their vision they could much more clearly see maul's mental state and what sort of danger he would pose to the jedi, and they would let him move freely about the temple

okay here's my favorite part of this whole thing. maul is a fucking nerd. he discovers the jedi library and goes insane. maul would read so many books about so many different things because he's interested in everything and he'd want to build his knowledge in a myriad of subjects. he would spend hours upon hours in the jedi library just reading every single thing in there. he'd beg one of the masters to let him access the "forbidden knowledge" just because it's knowledge and he wants it. and if that didn't work he'd find a way to break in (the forbidden knowledge did not disappoint).

I also think maul would love to spar with lightsabers and stuff. he'd know techniques the jedi wouldn't, and so in friendly spars with people he'd managed to befriend, he'd actually give them a fight and teach them something, while also learning new techniques from the jedi

I think maul would consider becoming a jedi for a brief second. he's happier here than he's probably ever been, finally free from palpatine's influence and in a healthy environment. but he knows it's not his path.

after spending a long time living at the jedi temple, having carved out something of a life for himself, made friends for the first time in his life, having finally achieved emotional stability, he approaches the order on his own. they expect, after having been long used to his presence, for him to ask to be a jedi. but he comes with an unexpected proposal.

maul asks to leave the jedi temple to go home to dathomir, to see what had become of his family and of the nightbrothers. he's much much more stable than he was, but he still has burning questions that palpatine would never have let him find the answers to. and he genuinely does want to get there, eventually. but he also wants to learn more about the force that the jedi wouldn't teach him, to learn more about the sith.

his departure is surprisingly more emotional than he was expecting. the jedi temple was the first place he'd ever actually felt safe, that he'd been allowed to just exist. he would miss it.

armed with all the knowledge in the jedi temple, he searches for knowledge the jedi wouldn't have access to. he finds the remains of mortis, and researches the mortis gods. he spends a period of time wandering around like batman crushing the people he doesn't particularly like (usually people objectively morally horrible. he spent years with the jedi he has ✨morals✨ now). he even made his way to ilum, and found two crystals to forge a new double-bladed lightsaber. (the blades are yellow.)

maul would also study ancient sith texts, and spend a lot of time investigating old sith temples (like the one on malachor). however, he doesn't have the same burning desire to seize the power for himself anymore. it's an odd feeling.

eventually he does return home to dathomir to find the genocide of the nightsisters (with only one nightsister, merrin, remaining) and the nightbrothers in disarray after the loss of the dictatorial government they'd lived under for generations. maul ends up taking over a la mandalore (but with a lot less murder and awfulness. ✨morals✨)

what I'd love to see is maul founding an opposite sort of order to the jedi. not necessarily the sith, since the sith treated him horribly and destroyed his entire life, but i think maul would believe that for the force to truly be in balance, you couldn't try to eradicate an entire half of it from the galaxy. I would love to see maul found an order of dark side force users that teaches about how to use the dark side, how to avoid total corruption, and the correct channels for the power you control.

maul would be a very effective teacher in the dark side because of how much experience he has with it. he experienced the absolute worst of the dark side, the total corruption and loss of self, but he also used the dark side to save the nightbrothers from destroying themselves after the loss of the nightsisters and used his power to keep them together and safe (not to mention the period of time with Batman Maul where he used the dark side to help people).

also I would love to see the new generation of jedi and the new generation of dark side users not to be in opposition for once. by nature of maul being rehabilitated by the jedi, he would teach about them and their teachings with a modicum of respect, and the two orders would be seen as two sides of the same coin. twins, almost.

maul would not be a child snatcher, he was child snatched. the dark side is different from the light in that its always there. it comes much more naturally to force users, and unlike the jedi, it wouldn't require you to join from a ridiculously young age. his order is always known and always open to any force user who wishes to learn about the force.

maul's life comes to an end peacefully, at his home on dathomir, having built a new society for the nightbrothers and a new order for users of the dark side.

[the-goddessfighter]

[ Alien vs Predator Batarou AU - Part 1 ]

by: Little1993lamb

for: Temperans-sama / @the-goddessfighter Word count: 7252 Warning: Background characters' death. Some violence and gore mentions, but not too explicit.

Not exactly a fanfic but more of a long scenario AU headcanon. Caution for bad English and very limited vocabulary as I'm not native English speaker and still not fluent enough, OOC characterizations, and lots of inaccurate concepts compared from the movie plotline as this headcanon is just loosely inspired by it, so please forgive me if this not so good I'm so sorry 🙇💦

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

This AU headcanon was based on my weird "Alien vs Predator" movie-like dream I had weeks ago. But for this AU, the story has slightly modificated to fit Batarou situation:

• Badd as a Spaceman, working for the extraterrestrial research scientists organization, unexpectedly met Garou in one of his mission.

• Garou as one of the Yautja/Predator warriors, aiding Badd on fighting against the Xenomorphs Aliens.

The other headcanon concepts, like Garou's concept designs for the AU, are written on the notes at the end of story below.

As I promised before, this is my present for you to begin the year 2021, Temperans-sama (and of course also everyone in the fandom). I hope you enjoyed this AU headcanon!

Let's get started! 😊😉👌💖

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

Badd was working for Space and Extraterrestrial Research Organization as their Spaceman. Not as the researcher because he hates to work in a lab, he rather to do some actions in the field or outdoor works. There were several divisions for Spacemen jobs in the Organization, but what Badd specialized was the ones who could do fighting or combat. Basically like security guard to ensure the safety of Research Organization members. Sometimes he also being included in a rescue team when there was something life-threatening emergency situation happens.

One day, he got a mission along with his other coworkers in rescue team to save their crewmates, who previously were sent to investigate an unknown spaceship that was approaching Earth's orbit but then they were trapped in there.

Just after arriving on the ship and navigating their crewmates' location, they found a bunch of terrifying monstrous Xenomorph aliens attacking them. Battle was ensued, many of them died because they weren't expected these creatures' presence in the spaceship. None of the hostages crewmates informed them because turned out either they were already dead or incapable to send complete information to the base.

In the middle of fighting inside an alien spaceship, Badd finally met one of the hostage crewmates who is also one of his bestfriend and he joined to fight along with his friend against the creatures.

At the end of exhausting battle, Badd and that one friend survived on escaping from the ship along with some few other crewmates. When Badd asked him on a private room, "Why didn't you send help request more sooner?", the friend just answered, "Because I was waiting for this moment".

Badd saw his friend's appearance changing into an unknown stranger figure: a spiky white haired humanoid alien with heavily intricate armored body. Surprisingly, he is not so hideous like the other alien creatures but still has an otherworldly figure.

Badd was stunned when the stranger alien explained his intention using some language translator device on his helmet armor,

"Initially, my warrior troops were gonna invade your precious Earth but unexpectedly our spaceship was infested by those creatures you've seen before. I'm the Leader and the only survivor during the ambush and that's when your naive crewmates coming to our already wrecked ship. They sent SOS signal to your base when they were under attack. Because I want a chance for long-term survival, I borrowed your dead friend's appearance by shapeshifted as him".

He continued, "Luckily, you found me and think of me as your friend! I must gained your trust by playing along as your crewmate the whole time so I could hop into your ship together with you, thus fulfilling my intention to invade the Earth. Thanks for bringing me along, tiny human..".

The alien warrior ended his speech with a growling voice into the still stunned Badd's ear. Then he reached on his armor helmet mask and slowly took them off, revealing the true face of him:

A humanoid monster-like face with wide ridged forehead, intimidating-looked narrow hollowed eyes in which have round big golden-coloured irises, no nose, has these huge mandibles complete with two sets of long pointed tusks on them, and when they opened a bit Badd could see rows of sharp teeth inside. This alien warrior also has swept-back long spiky white hair, it was the most eye-catching feature on him.

Realizing Badd was observing his unmasked face, the white-haired alien suddenly snarled by opened his mandibles up in front of Badd's face to scare him. He wanted to test if this human would weirded out or cowering in fear from seeing his real appearance or not. But Badd only jolted back in reflex from getting surprised, without any hints of fear detected in his eyes. "You.. aren't scared by me?"

Badd was taken aback by the question, "Huh? Nah. I've seen much worse and it wasn't you, obviously".

"Not for a little bit? Nothing at all?", the alien didn't convinced by Badd's statement at all.

"Yep. 'Sides, I rather looked at your face than have to witness those Lovecraftian abominable creatures in that spaceship before. Hey what are you trying to do, by the way, huhh??", Badd could swears this white-haired alien just wanted to make fun of him. 

The white-haired alien just humming and nodding to himself, "Hmm.. You're indeed an interesting one.", as he placed his hand under his chin and rubbing it, it seems like he found some amusement in Badd.

Although he was indeed caught off-guard by the surprise snarl, Badd didn't afraid of him on a slightest, instead he actually was mesmerized by the alien's charm. Badd blurted out, "Are you gonna eat me?".

The white-haired alien just giving a funny look for a second and then grinning widely after hearing that silly question, showing all of his sharp teeth and fangs inside his mandibles, "No, not yet. Not until I know you better..", a chuckling sounds like a cat's purr was heard from him as he caressed the human's soft cheek with his long claws.

Badd frowned on what the alien had said, 'So in the end he will devours me if I'm not useful anymore?'. He didn't wanna think what he should explain to Zenko when the time has come.

When Badd said he didn't afraid to die, it doesn't mean he wanted to leave his beloved little sister alone, not when she hasn't finished her education in college and reaching her dream! Also, sure as hell not by being eaten by this strange alien!

Seeing Badd was slightly affected by the threatening words, he retreated his hand back. "Well I'm just joking, I never and wont eat humans, don't worry. They make a good prey but totally not good for consumption at all". Then he laughed loudly at Badd's dumb-strucked face. Badd started to feel pissed off: they both had just met and this alien already have the guts for teasing him twice??

The laughing finally ceased, "I think we should cooperating from now on. What is your name, little human?", the alien curiously asked, those bright yellow irises staring deep into Badd's rich dark chocolate eyes, searching for any hints of fear emotions but instead found some fire ablaze in them.

"Badd. My name's Badd, just remember whose human who had saved your sorry ass", he answered while removing the clawed hand that caressed his cheek, boldly swatting it away from him.

The charming white-haired alien quickly caught Badd's hand and clasped it with his palm, "Ooh a feisty one! Seems like I was right for choosing to fight along with you minutes ago, you're quite strong for a mere human. I like that. And you can call me 'Garou'. Nice to meet you, Badd..".

From the corner of his eye, Badd saw 'Garou' took something from his pocket. It was a small piece of the Xenomorph's sliced finger. He squished it a bit until the green-ish blood residue leaked out from the cut, then slowly moved it closer towards Badd's face.

"Stay still, Badd", the warrior instructed him.

"WHOAA NONO NO NO, GET IT AWAY FROM MY FACE!!", the young spaceman tried to swat that finger thing from Garou's hand and moved away as far as possible, refusing Garou's request.

"I said stay still! Calm down it's just a quick little brush", Garou insisted as he keeps holding Badd's hand to prevent Badd from swatting and moving too much.

The moment Badd's forehead being brushed by the blood as Garou carved a symbol on him, his skin sizzled from the contact of corrosive acid fluid and those left red scratched marks as the result.

"OUCH OW THAT HURTS! IT BURNED MY SKIN, JACKASS!!", Badd shouted then grimaced at the burned sensation on his forehead, he let out pained moaning. "Uuh.. What's that for?"

"I'm 'marking' you. You fight along with me, you even managed to kill those creatures despite being a human. Therefore, you earned my respect to bear an honourable mark from me," Garou smiled proudly at Badd, genuinely happy to find such a strong fierce human at the first meeting.

Badd didn't know how he should reacted at the explanation, but after seeing Garou's genuine proud expression he thought maybe it was actually a very rare honourable thing to be given outside his clan. From the spaceship window glass reflection, Badd could see the fresh carved scratched-like mark. He was admiring how neat the mark Garou has carved onto his forehead. An honour mark.

"Umm.. Honestly I didn't expected it, but.. Thank you, I guess?", Badd muttered while caressing his freshly marked skin.

"You're welcome, tiny human. So, right now we are heading towards your precious Earth, right? Do you have any spare room in your house for me, hmm?", Garou grinning confidenty, expecting for more interesting things from Badd after they live together.

Badd felt an impending huge migrane forming in his head, as well as the sudden urge to facepalm so hard, "... Goddamnit."

This would changed his normal daily life.

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

As the consequence of accidentally helping Garou, Badd must hide his existence from the Research Organization. So, after arrived back to the Earth, Badd must gives false-report for the base that their rescue mission was failed and only a few of team members were survived.

During that time, Garou made himself invisible but also could shapeshift into anyone for more advanced stealth tactics. Badd allowed Garou to live temporarily in his house, as long as Garou wont harming his beloved little sister Zenko and his cute cats.

At first, Garou forgot to shift into his human form in front of Zenko when Badd sneakily brought him into his house at late night. He didn't know Zenko was still awake at that hour because she was waiting for his comeback.

Badd wanted to smack himself after noticed Garou's big mistake, but after staring intensely at Garou for a full minute, Zenko just nonchalantly said,

"So you've got back from the space and you're bringing an alien boyfriend home? Hmm.. Not bad. Nice choice by the way, I always know your type, big bro", and she gives Badd thumbs up of approval.

Garou takes a liking on Zenko's bravery, maybe he could get along with her more easier later. On the other hand, despite his attempt at correcting Zenko that Garou isn't his alien boyfriend (yet), it makes Badd feels relieved that his little sister doesn't really mind of him bringing an extraterrestrial being as a new roommate in their house.

Garou spending most of his time at Badd's home by trying to learn human's behaviour and any other knickknack Earth-y things out of curiousity, that he slowly forgetting his original intentions and getting more interested on building a newfound relationship with Badd.

Badd also slowly growing fond of this charming alien, especially when Garou becomes more protective to him and his family, not to mention Garou actually learning humanity better than actual human. He was actually surprised that Garou had decided to develop a new "adaptive" form, in which a mix between his real form and human form, to help him communicate better with Badd while still maintaining most of his real appearance. Especially when it requires him speaking by human language more fluently.

Sometimes when Badd wasn't working or taking a day-off, they would spending time together at home and exchanged stories of their life. After Badd promised Garou that he wont tell any information to the higher up in the Organization, Garou explaining his life as a Warrior from his own planet, the secret history behind the invasion mission toward Earth and the super advanced technologies they owned compared with what human have currently.

It's kinda fun to have someone from another world to talk casually with, since Garou himself didn't have many close friends in his own troops. Not even to the old Elder warrior, Bang, who Garou regards as his adoptive father and his former trainer.

In return, Badd telling Garou about his favorite things, his childhood stories, his family including his late parents, everything about Zenko as he adores her so much, also about the reason why he took such adventurous yet dangerous job as Spaceman for the Research Organization. If Garou ever curious for some Earth-y stuff that he still didn't understand (as he called those things "outdated ancient stuff"), Badd will also explaining about them to him.

On special occasion, Badd would brings Garou and Zenko out to go shopping together or having fun on amusement park. He thinks it's good idea to take Garou with him and introducing many fun things humans usually do in daily life. It feels good to have a sense of having a full family again after he lost his own parents years ago. Besides, seeing how adorable Garou trying to enjoy human's entertaintments or bonding with Zenko was amusing.

To blending himself in public when they're going outside together, Garou usually shifted onto his "human-persona" so he wont attracts unwanted attention from people. But when he's around Badd's house, Garou just shifted back to his original form or his adaptive form since Badd loves it so much and wants Garou to be comfortable as himself at home.

Fortunately, it seems Badd's neighbourhood was inhabited by chill people. They never questioned further or suspicious about who Garou really is, especially after Zenko purposely introduced him as "her big brother's new boyfriend who just moved in from another city". Badd immediately blushed or flustered everytime they mentioned his "handsome boyfriend", as they also greet Garou warmly and saying that Badd was so lucky to have this gorgeous man as his lover.

Garou persistently asking Badd what is this "boyfriend" supposed to meant and why did Badd always deflecting his genuine questions while being all bright red faced with higher heart rate. Despite never got the answer, Garou likes to tease the cute little spaceman that he adores so much.

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

After staying on Earth for months in Badd's home, Garou started to questioning himself.

Garou wondered if his original mission is really worthy or not, because in truth what he had said to Badd about the reason why he comes to Earth is not entirely true.

The real story was, Garou was just wanna visit the Earth for sportmanship and training himself to become the best hunter warrior. He was going to prove the Elites that he is worthy enough to get more superior rank that the one he currently is. That's why he also brought the Young Blood packs along with him to train them once they arrived on the Earth.

Until that accident happened because of a miscalculation: the Xenomorph alien larvaes that supposed to be used on humans, the supposed hosts, for initiation and hunting ritual were infesting his packs when they were still in the middle of their journey towards the Earth. Garou's plan was destroyed spectacularly, he lost all his pack members before he reached their destination. At least on the better side, because of that accident he could meet Badd along the way, so it feels not too bad.

On the other hand for personal fulfillment, he wanted to seek different challenges in another planets to polish his hunting skills and adding new experiences. So, the invasion plan was actually just his secondary mission, in fact it was actually just a bluffing. But it sounds like a more cooler way to threatened Badd back then. 

Not that he ever cares about human civilization and the entire human population in Earth, as he remains indifferent for them and regards them as mere weak prey for hunting sport. But he found out this one particular human is very fascinating to him: Badd. The more he interacted with Badd, the more he gets attached.

Not to mention lately Garou sensed something wrong with himself that only occured everytime they spend time or hanging out together, like there's warm feeling in his chest or sudden protective instinct whenever he is near Badd.

And while Garou considers humans are ugly, for some unknown reason he thinks Badd, in human's expressive language, is "beautiful". Inside his fierce hot-headed appearance, Badd has the kindness and all the sweet personality package in his heart. Which is total opposite with Garou, who is ruthless and cunning. Those contrasts has really melted Garou's own cold heart, surprised that he could managed to find such special human being.

Badd was supposed to be his prey, not a companion. If only Badd were born as the same kind like him, without doubt Garou was 100% sure Badd would be a perfect Warrior partner to fight along with, as he had already seen Badd's remarkable strength as a human. Such the best dream-like scenario ever that will never happens to them, but still very good 'what-if' situation.

The moment Garou saw Badd could kill the Xenomorph aliens alongside him in a combat and capable to defend himself, he respects Badd so much. It made Garou wanted to initiate Badd as one of his kind, a honourable strong Warrior. Or taking Badd with him to train as his personal human Apprentice.

For his bravery and incredible fighting abilities, Garou presented Badd a gift as a sign of respect for him. It was one of his exotic Yautja warrior's weapon collections that he managed to bring along in last expedition: an unbreakable metal bat.

Garou thinks it suited Badd's brawler fighting style, and because the bat made from special metal from his planet it can't be destroyed with anything on Earth. Except if it was smeared with corrosive acidic Xenomorph alien's blood, it would slightly melt. Whoopsie. But anyways, still an honourable thoughtful gift! Garou hopes he can witness the day Badd will using the metal bat in a combat.

Maybe it's not really bad he prolonged his stay on Earth for the sake of Badd and Zenko, although just for a bit. Garou wanted to have more "connection" with Badd before he continued the original plan. He wanted to know more about this special human, always being near him and protected him.

At least before the old man Bang realizing Garou has been missing for awhile after last Xenomorph attack and doing some search party for him by sending reinforcement army towards the Earth. 

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

At the same time on his workplace at the Research Organization, Badd was contemplating his life decision.

Badd was thinking why should he still insisted to hide Garou's existence? He could just secretly reported the truth to the Organization behind his back, handed him to them as new research subject and thus ended the Earth's next possible threat.

But that's so wrong!

Just thinking about Garou being treated as a test subject like some lab guinea pig made Badd's blood boil. Not that they can ever catch Garou and managed to survive from him, though, as he knows how strong Garou is. Surely Garou is an extra-terresterial being, but in reality he's not so different from human. There's also alot things that separated him from another Alien species he had encountered before.

Garou has a good heart and moral despite being an asshole sometimes. He's super intelligent and quick to learning something new, willing to cooperate once they're bonded over mutually trust.

Speaking of morality, Garou has better grasp of humanity than most people. Although he is a ruthless warrior, he wont bringing harm to those who are already weak or sickly people, unarmed opponents, childrens, or females especially the pregnant ones. Those are basically the Yautja Clans' Warrior Rules, as they only do fair fights. Badd thinks Garou's own kind are very cultured people, that's cool.

One thing Badd didn't expect before was the fact Garou is kind of "nerdy guy". He thought Garou was a ruthless jock-type warrior who only likes hunting or chaotic things, but in reality he is just the biggest nerd Badd ever known. Garou has always been curious about anything he deemed interesting enough, like human's lifestyle, social classes, education, or even the cuisine. Currently Garou is obsessed with martial arts and his homemade food, also when they're going out together he always asked for buying some fast food preferably with Cola for the drink. Truly an example of alien with unique taste.

The more Garou learned from Badd and observing people around them, the more he understand what human and their "humanity" is, both good side and bad side. Garou said he considered himself on grey area. But he would try to be on the good side, just for Badd.

About Garou's appearance, Badd never got scared of Garou's real form. In fact, he finds Garou in his full warrior armory looks charming and kinda handsome. He had seen Garou in the middle of daily training to sharpen his instincts during his stay at home, surely Garou got a lots of cool fighting techniques and movements, both bare-handed or with weaponry. Truly showing a professional experienced Warrior skills. Or when Garou shifted into the adaptive form so he can spar with Badd more comfortably without really hurting him.

Not to mention his unusually bright golden irises when Garou stares intensely at him, the way Garou tilted his chin up with those long slender clawed hand, that teasing smug grin with those sharp teeth show-off, and those surprisingly soft slicked back spiky white hair..

Yeaah okay, Zenko was totally right about him being into monsters. Fortunately to Badd, she wont and never judges his taste on men.

And Garou is actually a very good friend.. Or maybe more, if only his feeling ever reciprocated. Badd wondered if he could asks Garou to just stay forever on Earth together with him.. 

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

Badd was just coming home early in the afternoon from the work, as he only finishing yesterday's home paperworks and delivering it to the office. Time to get some rest after working the whole night filling the mountain pile of papers, Zenko still in school at this hour anyways so he would take a brief nap before picking her up.

Strangely, the house was too quiet. He usually hear some noises from across the room, whether it was Garou watching some tv programs or news or movies, or sneaking around the kitchen as he attempted to raid Badd's fridge contents (nowadays he often found out all the meat stocks or even any of homecooking leftovers in his fridge vanished thanks to Garou's huge appetite).

Badd tried to calling for Garou and checking on his room upstairs but there still no sign of him. He guessed maybe Garou went to their sparring place in the woods, training by himself to polish his hunting skill. Or maybe Garou was lurking on city downtown again?

Badd wished it was the former, he doesn't want Garou to make some trouble with humans when Badd was not with him. Even if Garou indeed goes to town he hoped he just do sightseeing or observing people from afar. Whatever, Badd will take a nap while waiting for Garou.

Just as Badd started to sleep, he heard the bedroom window clicked open suddenly. He immediately jumped out of the bed and grabbing his metal bat, ready to whack anyone who dared to sneak into his house like this. Nothing on sight, though, until some invicible force putting down Badd's metal bat and revealing it was Garou in his "adaptive" form, who just deactivated his invisibility cloak after entering his room from the window.

"Yo Badd!", he grinned widely, happy for successfully surprising Badd again. 

"Oh for fuck's sake Garou, please just use the front door! I already gave you my spare key, right? What if someone sees you and thinks you're a robber- Forget that, you were in invisible mode nobody could ever see you anyways, Mr. Ninja Warrior". Badd flomped down on the bed again, feeling ridiculously tired by Garou's antic yet relieved that his favorite alien is back. "Where did you go?"

Garou sets his knapsack down while explaining his disappearance, "I was so bored doing nothing in your house and my instincts will slowly dulled if I don't practice my routines, so I sneak out to nearby forest hoping to get some good prey for hunting practice. But it seems like Earth's creatures are not challenging enough to become my prey. It's either too small, too tame, too weak, or too pitiful it can't satisfy my hunting urge".

Garou sat beside Badd on the bed and stared at him, "Why can't I fight your people? It would makes alot things more interesting..", he whispered the last sentence with a naughty shit-eating grin on his face.

Badd propped himself up from the bed to grab Garou's arm and pointing his index finger in front of Garou's face, "No, I wont allowed you to do that! No hunting on humans, not on my watch. If you want some fight you can spar with me like what we always do. I'll take you on in a fair fight. Was that still not enough?". Was I'm not enough for you, Badd left it unsaid. He frowned at the though of Garou not satisfied with his effort.

"Ugh, what a let down, I would love to add human skulls on my trophy room when I get back to my planet soon. But your wish is my command, Badd. I promise not doing that for your sake", Garou huffed and rolled his eyes, but his tone softened. "About our sparring, while yes we can still spar with eachother, it doesn't fullfil my hunger for hunt. That's different", he shifted closer to Badd and gazing deeply into his rich dark chocolate eyes.

He continued, "You're not a prey anymore and I hate to see you getting hurt everytime I went overboard in our fights. You're my human companion, I only wish to protect you. But thank you for letting me spar with you every week, it was really fun", Garou touched Badd's forehead, where an initiation mark as fellow Warrior was given by him after their first encounter. Then slowly he put his clawed hand on Badd's cheek, caressing the soft skin gently while looking at Badd with much tenderness.

Badd just averted his eyes from Garou's uncharacteristically tender gaze, face heating from blushing too much as his heart-rate spiked. Of course Garou would know he was flustered by his touching words, he could see it by his vision, by the way. Not that Badd hated to be treated like this, in fact he felt so happy that Garou considered him as a human companion, a "someone special" for Garou.

"Umm yeah you're welcome, then.. Don't worry I know you will never really hurt me. Besides, I'm a tough guy, y'know? I can totally revive through fighting spirit and have another go with you", Badd placed his own hand on top of Garou's, letting the charming alien caress his face more. It's very comforting he loves it when Garou showing some rare affection to him.

They enjoyed the heartwarming moment until suddenly Garou moved away from Badd, "Oh I just remember something! Wait here", he let go his touch on Badd as he rushed to get his knapsack on the floor, picking its content and shoved it in front of Badd's face. "Here I got this for you, accept it!".

It was a flower bouquet. A simple makeshift one, but what made Badd astounished was Garou's choice of flowers: all of them were rare exotic flowers, which only grows on mountain or on the deepest part in forest. All of the flowers were wrapped by a wide green leaf as replacement for plastic wrap ('is that a banana leaf??'), and tied together by a thin rope.

"Wow.. Thanks, Garou, these are very pretty ones", Badd carefully took the beautiful bouquet from Garou's hand, still mesmerized by the exotic colourful flowers. He cradled it close on his chest. "Where and how the hell you get these flowers? I didn't even know that they grow or ever existed around our sparring place??"

Garou scratched his head, "After I got bored by pitiful failed attempt of hunting and start heading back to your house, I saw one kind of wild flower plant growing at hidden small valley near our sparring place. I though you would like it so I took some then continued searching for more wild flowers in the middle of forest until on the top of hills. Worth it for a passing time aside from going hunting", he shrugged like it was no big deal.

"But why?? What's the real reason?", Badd was honestly baffled by Garou's whole effort to flatter him.

"I saw from TV or on the street when we were going outside that you humans like to giving and receiving flower present as, what is that, "courting attempt"? Also you always go 'Aww that was so sweet~" or swooning like a fool everytime you and Zenko watched that scenes in some sappy drama movies. I don't understand why humans feel an enjoyment from getting a reproductive part of plant. Is that something meaningful behind that?", Garou raised his non-existed eyebrows in honest wonderment.

Badd tried to answer him, "Well.. It was--".

Garou continued his rants, effectively cutting Badd's explanation, "On my planet everyone courting their companion with a head or remnants of deadly dangerous prey, showing how great their hunting skills are. The more kill count the better. While your people giving a flower bouquet, a plant, really? You humans are just weird", he was shaking his head.

"So.. You didn't deny that you were courting me, right? You realized what I like and tried to do it for me even though you didn't understand the meaning of it, so that you can make me happy. Was that true, Garou..?", Badd slowly connecting the dots and stated the conclusion to Garou. He clutched the flower bouquet tighter, as once again he feels warmth in his heart. Not expecting the ruthless alien warrior has a soft spot.

So this meant his feeling is reciprocated? Garou feels the same as him? 

"What-- I'm-- Okay, you're right I was! There you have it now. Happy? Damn, this still weird to say..", Garou awkwardly confessed to Badd, not sure what should he says next. If he were in human form at that time, Badd was sure he was flustered heavily.

"Mmhm..", Badd hummed in agreement, as he placed the pretty flower bouquet on the nightstand carefully. Then Badd clung his arms around Garou's neck and pulling him down together with him on the bed, so now Garou was on top of Badd.

"Whoaa what are you doing?!", Garou propped on his elbows not to crush Badd directly with his weight. He wanted to protest but stopped himself when he saw Badd smiling softly full of fondness at him.

From very close distance, Garou could see how Badd's eyes are twinkling and the pinkish blush on his cheeks made Badd looked more prettier than usual. Those are something that made Garou was at lost of words when he tried to describe how beautiful this human is. His own companion.

Without saying anything, Badd released his hold around Garou's neck. He was caressing Garou's jaws and then cupping his face gently, before pulling Garou down towards him to peck his forehead. Looking briefly at Garou's softened eyes, Badd smiling again then finally kissing his lips. It was a light kiss but also a lingering one.

After a minute that feels like eternity, Garou released himself from the kiss and asking Badd in a soft whisper, "What was that for?". Not with the tone of rejection but instead searching for confirmation.

Beside the "human's courting", Garou also had seen this kind of acts on TV dramas or in real life, where a couple of "lovers" touching their lips onto eachother's for the purpose of showing their affection. So, he wanted to know if Badd was also meant it.

"Do y'know, when someone accepting the other's courting attempt, they would hug or kiss them. To show how much they loved and appreciated the other. I was doing the same to you, Garou.. You don't understand how long I was waiting for this moment", the raven-haired human answered while caressing Garou's face, the adoring smile still haven't leaving his face.

"Huh, I guess this proved what Zenko told me weeks ago was right, you have the hots for monster guy", Garou was smirking in victory, glad he was the one who captured Badd's heart.

"Don't be such a bighead, you silly alien warrior", chuckled Badd while he ruffled Garou's spiky hair. "You were the one who fell so hard on me, as far as making me your companion, swore to protect me in the name of warrior honour and do the whole 'weird human courting' for me. While noone ever dared to do the same as you. Admit it, you're a dork".

"What did you say?! A dork?? How dare you--", Garou offended complaint was halted as he processed Badd's entire words. "Wait, you said noone ever trying to court you before? Why? You seems more than average people in appearance or attitude", he showed pure confused look to Badd.

Badd gladly took Garou's appreciation remark before answering, "Have you seen my temper? Or listening on my way of speech? Or knowing my habit on ditching someone for Zenko if I'm not very interested in them? Nobody could handle that, Garou. Maybe except you, you're the only one who ever wanted me..", he pulled Garou down again for more soft kisses.

Garou hummed in their kiss, "Hmm, then it was their loss. For not considering you an amazing person". He swept the wild strands of Badd's hair away from his forehead, peppering kisses on it gently. Garou has learned it from Badd and now he tried to do the same for him.

"Aww thank you, Garou. Besides, I like my man being tall, strong, dangerous, loyal, and have lots of adorable soft spots behind the whole cocky bravado", Badd purred in bliss from Garou's affection.

"Says the one who said he hates skyscraper-like tall man. Which was the truth, hmm, Short-stack?", Garou lifted one of his non-existed eyebrow in amusement. He likes to tease Badd with that endearment term.

"Sssh it was for the public, lemme have my preference in secret. And don't call me a Short-stack, say that once more I'll bash your head using your metal bat gift!", he pushed Garou aside then hit his sternum hard enough before closing his eyes and snuggling his head on Garou's chest.

Garou just let himself being pushed aside while chuckling, "Whoa okay Short-stack, I wont call you with that name again-- Badd?", he found his companion looked sleepy.

"Mmmh lemme take a nap for awhile, there's still 2 more hours before I have to pick Zenko up at her school. Please staaayyy with meee..", Badd slurred the last line from sleepiness, he curled his body against Garou's own big body, snuggled even more closer to him.

Garou just taking Badd into his embrace, made sure his human companion feels comfortable in his sleep. He caressed Badd's soft silky raven hair, "So, are we 'boyfriends' now?".

"Whut are you talkin' 'bout? I already introduced ya as mah 'boyfriend' to our neighbours, right? Always has been..", Badd tried to answer despite getting more sleepier.

"Oh right", Garou nodded at the memory. So Badd was really meant it that way? Glad to know.

Badd purring at Garou's caresses on his head, "Mmhm.. Love ya, Garou". After the unconsciously big declaration of love, he finally went to sleep, peaceful smile still plastered on his beautiful face.

Garou was at lost on words again. He heard the Love word and his mind just exploded. Badd loves him. The human loves him, an extraterrestrial being.

Thinking about it again, is that even allowed? To love someone from different world and different species? He wasn't sure if the Warrior code would let him taking a human as anything else outside as a prey, an apprentice, or a companion.

Honestly this is the first time Garou received a romantic love, not a friendly love or familial love. Because as a warrior who dedicated himself to be the best hunter, romance is not even listed on his priority list. He can't say for other fellow Elites who seek love interests by charmed them with their hunting abilities, but for himself Garou doesn't even interested on that thing back then.

But with Badd? How can he rejects his love, not when this special kind of human is compassionate, wonderful and not to mention worthy of his full respect. Badd is also the only human who doesn't cower in fear in front of him at their first meeting. Even as far telling him that he adores his soft side.

Him, a ruthless hunter, a "monster", was loved by a kindhearted human.

"... I love you, too, Badd."

Garou whispered it softly into Badd's ear, he embraced the sleeping boyfriend's body tighter before following him into the dreamland.

Both were smiling in their sleep.

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

-Few months later-

There was another new exploration mission from the Research Organization to obtain alien egg or larvae samples from the same wrecked spaceship on the previous expedition, so they could studying and observing the newfound alien species.

The newest mission was successful as the researchers team bringing the samples with them and be able to come back with minimal casualty. Thus Badd didn't need to join because he is working in rescue team.

At first week, everything was okay according to the plan. It seems the autopsy of larvae samples was successful as the Organization researchers have gotten some new informations from it.

Until an unexpected accidents occured during the second week of research.

The alien eggs samples in the special laboratory room were suddenly hatched and bursting out the new "facehugger" larvaes. Some of the lab staff were infested by it, while the other larvae strays were killed on the spot to prevent any infestation happening on more victims. Therefore the research was cancelled and the lab staff who became its alive hosts were quarantined until further notice.

The higher-ups were tried to keep it down so nobody outside The Organization know about this accidents. All the scientists and other staff members also tirelessly forced themself to solve this emergency situations. They tried to save the victims who currently become the alien's host, as far as preparing extraction operation for them hopefully it will have successful result.

But just a few days after that incident happened, all of the matured embrios inside the alive hosts bursted out from their body when they were still in the middle of intensive body examinations. The victims were died immediately, leaving a bunch of terrifying creatures that emerged from the wounds and crawling out attacking people in the laboratory.

Everyone was shocked by those horrible gorey sight, some of them were panickly calling for help while the others trying to escape from the room but stopped by the juvenile aliens' quick attack. When the security team came to rescue, most people in the room were either already dead from fatal wounds or barely alive still struggling to avoid getting attacked by the creatures.

The team quickly eliminate the rest of juvenile aliens by shooting it all, ensuring it wont leave past the entrance door. After ensuring no more alive aliens detected, they immediately sent the survivors to the hospital while the dead ones were sent to the Organization's morgue.

By this horrifying incident, the Organization executives hold the emergency meeting on that day They discussing how to solve this unexpected catastrophe during the research, how they should tell to the victims' family about the incident, or if this research are really worth it with these casualties. The higher-ups commanded them to call or reaching everyone who were involved on the newest expeditition mission, to make sure if there is nobody else got infested among the crew members.

Someone reported that most of expedition members along with other spaceship passengers on that mission have gone missing for days, and a few of them were found dead at their home with the same wide gaping hole wound on their chest. Two recordings from CCTVs on one dead victim's home clearly showed 3-4 Xenomorph alien younglings that just born or bursted from the victim's body, crawling outside the house towards neighbourhood area.

From those reports and evidences, it was confirmed that the crew members who participated on the newest exploration mission actually contained alive Xenomorph larvaes before they landed back on Earth, and somehow the infestation itself couldn't be detected because it was still on very early stage at that time. By the calculation of every "chestburster" larvaes that would be born into juvenile Xenomorph aliens from the total 30 suspected victims, it could be up to 120 individuals. And one of the juvenile aliens could be the next Queen that will reproducing new batch of eggs on somewhere else right now.

The plan has failed. This accident has shaken the Research Organization to the core as they prepared for worst scenario: the Xenomorph alien has already reproduced and multiplied itself inside or outside the Organization building complex. Not to mention they haven't managed to supervise the suspected victims current whereabouts prior the incident. Thus, as for the first step action to prevent bigger fatalities happens, they alerted all of the Research Organization members.

At home, Badd got the emergency messages from his higher-ups as he also explaining Garou about what was happened at the moment, that there was infestation of Xenomorph aliens among the researchers in the Research Organization. The higher-ups already deployed all of their hunter squads towards several different locations based on victims' last sighting or their home address. The higher-ups also instructed him to join the hunter squad for outside building complex area or near the suburban area to search the rogue Xenomorph aliens or at least for any survived suspected victims.

Garou suggested that he will also doing the hunt with Badd as it's the Warrior's duty to banish those alien species' existence, as it was their main prey. He asked Badd to always stay near him during the hunt so he wont get hurt by those beasts. Garou promised Badd that he will protect him, no matter what. But he wont promised to do the same for the others, no guaranteed he will helped them. Mostly they will be on their own. 

Both had agreed to eachother, they set their own combat gears. Garou wore his warrior armor and brought all his hunting weapons. Badd also did his part, not forgetting to bring Garou's metal bat gift, he couldn't wait to finally trying it out to smash those aliens' head off. He strapped it on his backpack, shoving all of other combat equipments on his car trunk, then driving his car out along with Garou towards their destination.

Before they go to the mission location, Badd dropping Zenko first to their neighbour family house to make sure someone watching over her and keeping her safe during dangerous situation. Garou shifted into invisible stealthy mode on their way to the squad assembly point, secretly blending with the rest of Badd's hunter squad members.

They started to investigate the forest near the suburban area which was previously has been reported for most recent Xenomorph alien sighting.

----- ⭐To Be Continued⭐ -----

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Notes:

So I made this headcanon because I had a dream which was strangely similar like the movie's plot, although not exactly same. Still don't know why and how I got that kind of dream since I haven't watch the movie again for so long 😅

The dream was about where I was accidentally saving the Queen of Xenomorph who infested my friend and took control of her mind, then turned out I must ensured the Queen's next survival 😱😰

But the difference between my dream and this Batarou AU is that I met a Queen of Xenomorph alien, while in the AU story Badd met one of Yautja warriors as I've decided to make Garou as The Predator instead. I thought it would be cooler than him being a Xenomorph alien, lmao! ✌😁

Coincidentally, besides getting an inspiration from my own dream, this AU especially for Garou as Predator also inspired by the fact we getting his Awakened Monster form from Murata 😳✨

Combining both the ideas, his Murata-styled Monster form and the amazing Predator figure appearance, WHAM, we got badass concept of Predator Warrior Garou! 👏👏😤

By the way, because I've made Predator Garou and his entire clans can do some shapeshifting as the more advanced hunting skill, he has 3 forms in this story:

1. Original form:

Exactly like the Predator in the movie, but the differences are the hairstyle, body build, and the ability to speak human language. Instead of dreadlocks, his hair is swept-back long spiky white hair. His body is more on slender-built than buff as Garou is an agile-type warrior, but he is so much taller than his canon-self, approximally 200 cm, unless he was shapeshifting into another form. He can speak human language in original form, but a little bit difficult to do it because of his mouth's structure so whatever he spouted when he talks would sounds like either growling or hissing. 

It's Garou's default form when he was among his own kind. Showed this form the first time he met Badd in rescue ship to threatened him (but failed as Badd didn't afraid of him at all), or when he was facing off some Xenomorph aliens in combat during the research organization's incident catastrophe.

When Garou revealed himself in front of the Organization executives at the next part (spoiler!), he refused to show his true face as they aren't worthy enough to see it, unlike Badd and Zenko. Hence he only shifted into adaptive form at that moment before Badd comes to defend him.

2. Adaptive form:

After living together with Badd for months, he has adapted into a new hybrid form, a mix between his own original Yautja form and human form. The result is like Monster Garou in Murata's style! No more arthropod-like mandibles with tusks, but instead human-like jaws with rows of sharp teeth and fangs (just imagine it like Murata's Awakened Garou). His hair is just like his canon-self with the iconic long horns-like spiky white hair, but at some point Badd cuts his hair shorter for more easier maintenance, so it now looks like Awakened Garou with short hair-style.

Mostly Garou showed this adaptive form when he was around Badd and Zenko at home. He knows Badd likes it so much thus alot of teasing, so he decided to make this adaptive form as a new default appearance during his stay on Earth. More practical to use as he doesn't do much hunting at that time, also the new set of jaws makes him easier to communicate by human language with Badd without his tech-armor helmet mask.

In this form, Garou still in his super tall self even though the height can vary around 185-190 cm, depends on the situation, ex: sleeping as he's a big boy Badd's bed or couch wont fit, so he'd shrink a bit. Sometimes Garou and Badd would spar at their secret place in the middle of woods using this form.

Despite the adaptive form is not quite suitable for hunting strong prey like Xenomorph aliens, Garou prefers to use it whenever he was training with Badd. Also, he can kiss Badd while in this form. Actually even more easier when he was in human form, it's just Badd loves this form more. Don't kinkshame Badd, he is one of monsterfucker, lmao. 

3. Human form:

Because he has shapeshifting ability, Garou can create his "human persona" everytime he blends into human crowds, especially when Badd asked Garou to go outside with him, occasionally also along with Zenko. Exactly like Garou in canon, but now with short-hairstyle as Badd said it suits him more. Garou interpreted it as a way to say "You look more handsome" but denied profusely by Badd.

He still maintained his lean-muscled physique like his other forms, but Garou shrink his height down into 177 cm because not only being too tall would catch many attention from people (Garou: "It's not my fault you all humans are just so goddamned short!"), Badd hated it when he was being towered by his own "boyfriend" when they're walking together in public. Although Badd accepted his tall monstrous height when they're only with eachother.

Badd's neighbours were successfully charmed by this "camouflage" appearance, Garou in a very cocky way tried it on Badd but it seems Badd only tolerates Garou's human form. Honestly, Badd loves his adaptive form as it shows Garou's own will to connect more with Badd while still maintained personal aspects of himself. Badd also totally didn't mind his original form as it was Garou's true face, and to be shown the real Warrior's face behind the mask is a great honour for Badd.

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I just remember that I've been in Batarou fandom for a whole year since January 2020, so you can think this headcanon AU as a new year gift and a thankful gift for the fandom 😆😚🎂🎁🎉🎊

Special thanks for:

🌸 @kaincuro​ and @the-goddessfighter​

Thank you so much for being huge inspirations! You guys introduced me about the beautiful side of Batarou ship via your awesome blogs and encourage me to also participating by sharing ideas to the fandom. Because of you, I managed to stay in this fandom for 1 year full despite 2020 being a hard year.

Thank you Cain, for being a wonderful person and providing us the Good Quality™ Batarou contents, both headcanons and arts! Whenever I'm on bad days and want to read Batarou stuff, I always go to your blog, it never fails to makes me feels alot better! Seeing your fluffy Batarou drawings and your amazing explanation on headcanon about them are absolute mood booster, it really helped me going through my hard days, seriously. So I wanna thank you from the deepest pit of my heart, because of you I could passed a difficult year more easier.

Please keep running your amazing blog, you're great and we love you! 😉👍❤🌸

Thank you Temperans-sama, for being one of greatest Batarou artists I've ever known in the OPM fandom and for your dedication on always working hard making many beautiful Batarou drawings to deliver to the fandom! Everything you've made are PERFECTION, really a God-tier artstyle. Not to mention your Batarou art always the Softest and Fluffiest! 😚👌💖💖

Thank you for kindheartedly willing to listening my super random headcanons or AUs, even as far liking it and drawing the illustrations for it, all of the arts are magnificent I'm so grateful for that AAAAA thank youuuu- *sobbing happily* 😭🙏💕💖 I feel so happy for being able to talk and sharing ideas with an incredible artist like you waaah THANK YOUUU!! Please accept my promised thankful gift for this year, I hope you like it 😚💕🎁♥

Biggest respect, support, and neverending love for you~ 😘❤💜💙💖💝💐👏

🌸 @lovelybutnot-ablankcanvas​ and @guby1620​

You guys are such very good friends during my stay in the Batarou fandom throughout the year, thaaaank youuu! Both of you deserved the best! *hugs tightly and never let go*

Thank you Eir, for being one of the most talented Batarou fanfic writers and most supportive understanding friend! I feel blessed to ever know you through your first Batarou fic a year ago, I still remember being one of your first reviewer and we shared alot of new ideas or random stuff. Now you already become a multitalented artist on both as fic writer and art drawing I'm so proud of you! 👏👏😤✨

Also, thank you for writing so many Batarou fic gifts last year, all of them are my favorite stories until now I really appreciate them! Keep being awesome, Eir, and yes you have my endless supports~ 😉💖✨

Thank you Ruby, for being a very talented Batarou artist with the most loveliest artsyle and I really admired you for that! You always have fluffiest ideas for arts and I love your handsome Garou + adorably sweet Badd drawings. I always enjoyed our interactions whenever we talk about our HCs, you're very easygoing and fun person to talk with, also you always successfully cheer me up with your cutest Batarou art 😉👍💯✨

I should thank you for liking my AU stories, even making one of them into a Doujin THANK YOU SO MUCH I didn't expected you would included the Reincarnated Demon/Angel AU into your long project I feel both grateful and honoured AAAA THANKS A LOT! *died from happiness* 😭💞💖💝

Undying supports and greatest appreciation for youuu, Ruby! I will always waiting for your new creations 👏💝🌸🌻💐

🌸 @garous-nipple​

I wanna say thank you for being one of the most talented Garou-centric fanartists in the fandom, you're amazing and I always love seeing your progress on evolving your artstyle throughout the time. You have great drawing skill and trust me you have already on the path to become next Murata! May this year will becomes Garou year as his inevitable comeback in the manga is near, so you will get loads of new art inspirations 😤👍💯🌟

Thanks alot for always accepting my requests or art idea suggestions! You absolutely deserved all of the best appreciation for your hardworks, we the OPM fandom are loving you 😉👌💖

I hope you enjoyed Garou's "the Predator" concept design headcanon as a humble new year gift from me 😆💝🎁🎉

And lastly for special mention:

🌸 @himbo-in-limbo​

I know we haven't interacted yet, but knowing that you love both Garou and AvP after stumbling into your lovely blog, I've decided to include you, too! As someone who only saw AvP once and not too familiar with the story, I honestly kinda embarassed of myself and afraid if my headcanon wont makes any sense so I apologized if there's alot mistakes and inaccuracy in here or if it's too OOC, please forgive me 🙇💦

I realized it's not perfect but I hope you like my concept design of Garou being a Yautja! Also sorry for the Batarou hints I hope you wouldn't really mind about it 😅😉💕💝🎁

(btw, all of your OCs are fantastic and very thoughtful-made! ❤)

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Once again I'm so sorry if my writing sucks, I wanted to share the idea but I don't have good writing skill at all please forgive me.. 😭🙇

I hope I can continue for the second part which is also the last part, it's currently on 1/4 way of completion. I'm currently stuck on the action scene why does it so hard to write battle scenes heeeelpp! 😫💦

So please wait for me, yeah? Wish me luck I could finished the story 😅🙏

Thank you so much, we will see again on the final part! 💖

-Little1993lamb-

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Temperans:

Anon! Thank you very much for sharing another fantastic fic for this fandom! Sorry for taking time to post it here. You know? My vacation will be over soon and I'm getting ready for TuT school

I would like to have dreams as interesting as yours, I hardly dream anymore, and it is nice that you can capture an idea from that. Honestly I've been a bit off these days, I miss our guys a lot and the way the webcomic is unfolding really distresses me (I'm so scared for Badd X'C). But your fic lifts my spirits every time I read it! So I wanted to reward your hard work with a drawing. I really like H. R. Giger's art and I tried to give that vibe to my art (I tried X'D). Thank you anon for always being there to support the fandom unconditionally! I hope you have a better year and health! 😘❤💜💙💖💝

[pickalilywrites]

a little smth for halloween ~ smth for the playlist

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Heart Skips a Beat

Rivetra. College/University AU. 

10012 words. 

Read on AO3!

“We should get back to the dorms.” 

“Why? I’m completely sober,” Petra says. Slowly. Carefully. Her words are perfectly coherent the way any sober person’s would be. If you ask her, it’s pretty impressive after downing half a dozen shots of very disgusting (but very invigorating) vodka. She can still feel the burn of it going down her throat even though it must have been half an hour ago since she actually drank it. She feels like she could breathe fire if she tried. “You’re just jealous because my alcohol tolerance is amazing.” 

A rock appears under Petra’s foot and she stumbles over it, nearly falling flat on her face. 

“Right,” Rico scoffs. “Because a completely drunk person wouldn’t have been able to avoid a rock.” 

Petra huffs, straightening out the nurse’s cap on top of her head. “If anything, this just proves how right I am. A drunk person would have totally tripped and ate shit, which I didn’t do, if you hadn’t noticed.” She gestures at herself - her completely inaccurate nurse costume that shows off far more than it covers with white fishnet stockings and red heels, nurse’s cap sitting lopsided on her head - smiling proudly. “The people at the party back there were super wasted in comparison.” 

They hadn’t gone to very many parties during their previous years - just the occasional ones that were thrown by their class when they were awkward freshmen and sophomores - and Hanji had just decided to drag them to the annual Halloween party thrown by a fraternity a few streets off the main campus. (The school claims that they’re not affiliated with the fraternity, but they’re not fooling anyone. Their campus revolves around Greek life.) Fraternity parties were on an entirely different level than other parties Petra had been to. For one thing, everyone was a lot more obnoxious, but that was forgivable a few drinks in. Before she knew it, she was laughing in the bathroom with a bunch of girls from the rowing team that she swore she couldn’t stand at the beginning of the year. They even let her take their pulses as if she was a real nurse. Maybe Petra’s costume was more convincing than she had thought. 

Overall, it was a good experience. Petra now has new numbers in her phone from contacts that she won’t remember the next morning, Rico bobbed for apples with a tall, handsome stranger in a Batman costume with cheekbones so sharp they could probably cut diamonds, and Hanji has enough donations from kind, drunk strangers to fund the chemistry club for the rest of the academic year. Really, it was a win for all of them. 

“You’re going to wake up with a wicked hangover,” Hanji says with a roll of their eyes, but they smile at Petra fondly (albeit a bit awkwardly because of the plastic vampire teeth that sit crookedly in their mouth). They wrap an arm around Petra, long black cloak covering the pre-law student-turned-nurse for the night. “Come on, Nurse Petra. Let’s sleep off the alcohol and I’ll get you an ibuprofen in the morning. I’ll even let you cuddle with Rico.” 

“What?” Rico squawks indignantly. She waves her broom about as if to ward Hanji and Petra away. “I didn’t agree to this! Don’t crawl in my bed. I don’t want you to get sick all over the sheets.” 

Petra sticks her lower lip out in a pout. “That was only one time! And it was an accident. I didn’t drink nearly as much this time!” She unlatches herself from Hanji’s side and stumbles over to Rico, looping her arm around the witch’s. Even as Rico leans away, Petra tries to plant kisses on her friend’s cheek. “You’re so cold now, Rico. If you’re not going to cuddle with me, who is? Do you want me to go to sleep cold and alone?” 

Rico brings a hand to Petra’s face for an affectionate pat. “Yes,” the witch replies with a wicked smile. She wrestles her arm away, leaving Petra to stand by herself as she and Hanji walk away. 

Petra has never felt such cold-hearted rejection in her life. Her skin is prickling with gooseflesh just at the memory of Rico’s heartless smile as she left Petra to fend for herself. Or maybe it’s just the fact that it’s nearly midnight and freezing and the skirt of her nurse outfit barely covers her ass. 

“You’re the worst!” she howls with a stomp of her foot. Tears prickle at the corner of her eyes. She’s absolutely heartbroken and all Rico can do is roll her eyes. Petra expects Hanji to embrace her or at least give her some sympathy, but all the vampire does is snicker behind their elbow as Petra’s bottom lip wobbles and tears trickle down her face. 

“I’d offer to let you sleep with me, Pet, but my bed’s a mess,” laughs Hanji. They cock their head to the side, an impish smile on their face. Perhaps Petra would have noticed how mischievous her friend’s grin was if she weren’t so distraught over the thought of not having anyone to cuddle with tonight. Hanji crooks a finger over for Petra to come closer, which the nurse does after much pouting and sniffling. They throw an arm around Petra once more. “Why don’t you try asking someone?” 

“I don’t …,” Rico begins with a frown, but Hanji quickly hushes her. 

“You made a lot of friends, didn’t you? Why don’t you ask one of them?” Hanji says. Behind them, Rico begins to protest once more but Hanji just waves her away with a hand. The sight makes Petra feel a little giddy. Rico absolutely deserves to be brushed off the same way she brushed off Petra just a few minutes ago. It’s what she gets for being so cold-hearted. 

“Mm, alright! That’s a good idea,” Petra hums happily. She looks through her phone, her smile quickly transforming into a frown when she realizes that she doesn’t recognize any of these names. Some of them aren’t even names but descriptions of people’s costumes - wolf, firefighter, fairy - many of which are terribly misspelled. That’s only if they were lucky enough to have a description. There’s a surprising number of entries that are just random key smashes that definitely don’t make up any known words in the English language. The depressing sight of her phone contacts is starting to make Petra tear up again. “I don’t know any of these people.” 

“Oh jeez, you’re a lot more far gone than I thought you were,” Hanji says with a little bit of a giggle. “Well, you must have talked to them at some point, or how else would you have their numbers in your phone?” 

Offended, Petra hiccups. “Don’t blame it on me! Rico probably bewitched my phone or something,” she sniffs as if this a more plausible explanation. She’s too drunk to remember that Rico isn’t really a witch and that they’re only wearing costumes. In her defense, Rico’s witch costume is really good. Even her eyeglasses are spooky tonight with little bats dangling on some kind of chain. “I don’t want to just cuddle with any random person. I want to have some kind of connection with that person. We have to have had at least one conversation.” 

“This is ridiculous,” Rico mutters. She snatches Petra’s phone and waggles it in the nurse’s face. “You talked with them enough to get their phone numbers. Isn’t that conversation enough?” 

“I haven’t talked to any of them before!” Petra insists. She looks over at Hanji for help, but they’re looking pensively in the distance at something Petra can’t see. Wanting attention, Petra shuffles over and tugs on the vampire’s cape. “Hanji, back me up!” 

“How would you like to talk to someone that might cuddle with you, Petra?” Hanji asks. They tug their cape from Petra’s hands. Normally, this would have offended Petra but she’s too busy staring wide-eyed at Hanji after hearing their suggestion. 

“Talk to someone?” Petra repeats. She looks at Hanji eagerly, eyes growing wide. “Who?” 

“Hanji, you can’t just have her talk to a random stranger!” Rico hisses, but Hanji ignores her. 

“Shh, it’s fine,” Hanji assures her. They turn to Petra, patting her lovingly atop her nurse’s cap. “You see those guys over there? They’re dressed like EMTs. Very thoughtful, caring guys who want to look out for people. Maybe you should ask one of them if they’re interested.” 

Petra looks to where Hanji is pointing and sees four guys dressed like EMTs sitting on one of those carts student EMTs ride around to (almost) run over other students when getting from place to place. She can’t really tell if they’re good-looking from where she is even when she squints, but the fact that they’re dressed as EMTs is pretty attractive already. Most guys go for a police outfit, but that’s a little overrated now. Firemen are an improvement, but the costumes tonight were bulky unless they were going as a sexy fireman, which was a bit of an overkill. Even drunk, Petra’s brain couldn’t fathom why a fireman would be shirtless to fight fires. It just seems dangerous. But an EMT. Their uniforms are plain but still fitted enough to be attractive, navy blue over taut arms that probably gave the best hugs. EMTs aren’t nearly as recognized as firemen and policemen and they save so many lives, which is incredibly sexy. 

“Which one should I talk to?” Petra asks Hanji, tears gone. She’s too distracted to remember what she was crying about just moments ago. 

 “Maybe the short one,” Hanji suggests, pointing at the one sitting in the back of the cart. He’s flipping through his phone, the screen lighting up his face. 

“The cute one,” Petra agrees even though that’s not what Hanji had said at all. 

“Hey, don’t you know him?” Rico asks Hanji. 

Hanji nods, but Petra doesn’t notice. She’s too busy tugging on the skirt of her dress and wondering if the amount of cleavage she’s currently showing off is a turn-off. Is there really such a thing as too much cleavage? 

Petra pulls her stocking up over her knees and stands up proudly. “How do I look?” she asks. She does a little twirl so that her friends can properly inspect her. She’s a little disappointed when neither Rico nor Hanji cheer, but she’s not too surprised. Maybe if they had drank more vodka like she had, then they would have a little more energy. 

“Wait, let me just,” Rico mumbles before reaching into her black clutch and pulling out some tissues. She dabs a little bit at Petra’s face, wiping away the nurse’s snot and tears. She holds another tissue to Petra’s nose. “Blow,” she commands. 

Petra obeys. Even as Rico grimaces, Petra feels a great appreciation for her friend. She even begins to tear up again. “I didn’t know you cared so much about me, Rico,” she pouts. “You’re usually always so cold.” 

“I’m always a good friend, you’re just drunk,” Rico replies. “And stop crying. You’ll ruin your makeup and nobody will want to cuddle with you.” 

“You look perfect, Pet,” Hanji assures her. They whirl Petra around and give her an encouraging smack on the butt. “Go get ‘em!” 

Fueled by her friends’ encouragement (well, Hanji’s encouragement, really) Petra begins to skip over to the EMT cart parked on the grass. She would have happily skipped over the entire way if she hadn’t tripped over her foot and almost face-planted on the cement. She doesn’t want to fall on her face in front of the cute EMT guy. She wants to make a good impression. So a little less happily, Petra walks with one foot in front of the other until she makes her way to the EMT cart. It takes a lot longer than she would have thought. The route was more of a strange, loopy path than it was a straight line, but Petra’s feet aren’t entirely cooperating with her at this point. It doesn’t matter though, she thinks, as long as she makes it to her destination, which she absolutely does. 

They’re murmuring to themselves, casting curious side glances at her when she approaches. Petra finds the attention flattering, although she does notice that the EMT that she had set her eyes on doesn’t look up from his phone even when she stands right in front of him. The rest of his party looks over at her though, watching and waiting to see what will happen. 

Maybe he has an important message to take, Petra thinks as she waits patiently for him to look up, but he continues to scroll mindlessly through his phone. Impatient, Petra coughs to catch his attention but he still ignores her. It’s rude, she thinks, to ignore someone as pretty as her. She stomps her foot, thinking that it’ll be enough to get the guy to look at her but he doesn’t even flinch even as the rest of his friends jump. It’s twice as frustrating once Petra realizes her heel is stuck in the grass and no amount of yanking will get it out. Humiliated, she steps barefoot on the grass, staring at her toes and wishing she had painted her toenails even though she’s never painted her toenails in her life. Maybe she should start. 

This is all the stupid EMT’s fault, Petra thinks. Stupid EMT and his stupidly attractive ability to ignore her. Or maybe he’s just playing hard to get. Is he?

Petra puts a finger on his phone and pushes it down. The interruption finally gets a reaction out of the EMT, but it’s not exactly the one Petra wants. He doesn’t look intrigued or even a little bit curious as he lifts his head. He looks bored. Maybe even a little bit annoyed. Why is that so sexy to her? 

“Pay attention to me,” Petra tells him, but he just looks from side to side as if she’s speaking to someone else. 

“Uh, Levi, I think she’s talking to you,” says the EMT in the driver’s seat while the rest of their friends gawk at Petra. 

“Your name’s Levi?” Petra asks. It’s not a lot of information, but she’ll take what she can get. She takes a seat next to him behind the EMT cart, snuggling up a little too closely to him so that their thighs touch. 

He finally puts his phone down, but he doesn’t check her out the way most people did at the party. He looks first at the little white cap on her head and then at her face, staring as if looking for something. “Do I know you?” he finally asks when he doesn’t recognize her. 

“No, but I want to get to know you,” Petra replies. She thought the answer would impress him - it’s cute, flirty, and earnest - but his lips just curl in a sneer and she almost wants to scream at him. 

“You’re one of Hanji’s friends, aren’t you?” asked another EMT, the one sitting directly behind Petra and Levi. He has curly, sandy hair and a long face that Petra doesn’t think suits his EMT costume. He would have been better off dressed as an elf from the Lord of the Rings or maybe a wizard. 

Petra doesn’t know if she should confirm or deny it. The EMT guys might run off with one of her friends instead. It would be unfair for Rico to run off with the EMTs and the sexy Batman with the amazing cheekbones. Petra would be fine with Hanji running off with one of the EMTs (and maybe even the other ones), but she wants to make sure she gets her first pick. She decides to play coy instead. 

“Maybe.” 

Levi looks over in the distance where Hanji and Rico are watching, Hanji barely containing their giggles. “That makes more sense,” he says. He turns to Petra again, his expression a little less cold. “Did they tell you to talk to me?” 

“No,” Petra huffs. “I wanted to talk to you myself. Because you’re cute and I want someone to sleep with.” 

Someone behind them chokes. 

“We’ll just … leave you two alone,” says the driver, shuffling out of the car. The others follow, the sandy-haired one a little more reluctantly than the others. 

“We’re still on our shift,” Levi calls back. 

“It’s fine,” the driver says, waving his hand awkwardly as he leads his team far enough away to not overhear the conversation. Petra should thank him sometime for being so sweet and thoughtful. She half-regrets not chasing after him first, but maybe she’ll think about asking him if this guy rejects her. Which won’t happen, of course. It’s just safe to have a backup plan. 

Petra returns her attention to the first cute EMT she had laid eyes on. “Let’s sleep together,” she says. 

“You should at least buy me dinner first,” Levi tells her. 

Petra frowns. She hadn’t anticipated this being a serious courtship, but if he wanted dinner, then she would have to get him dinner. She reaches into her bra and pulls out a five-dollar bill, some candy corn, and a Kit Kat bar that’s probably melting in its wrapper. She probably would have had more money if she actually had pockets, but her slutty nurse costume would not allow it. Then again, women’s clothing rarely had pockets anyway. It probably would have been smarter to bring a purse like Rico, but she didn’t have one that matched her costume. 

“I have five dollars,” she informs the EMT. It’s probably not enough to buy dinner, but her drunken mind is hopeful. Maybe he’ll take pity on her and cuddle with her for a bag of chips from a nearby vending machine. She holds out the money and candy to the EMT.

“That’s …” Levi looks as if he’s at a loss for words. He pauses for a moment before closing his hands over Petra’s. His hands are unexpectedly large for his short stature, his palms are calloused but his touch is gentle. “It’s okay, you don’t have to buy me dinner.” 

“So you’ll sleep with me?” she asks hopefully. 

“Why do you want to sleep with me anyway?” asks Levi. 

“Because you’re cute and we’re, like, matching,” she tells him, pointing at her costume and then at his EMT uniform. “It’s like fate or something.” 

He blinks at her. “Do you think I’m wearing a costume?” he asks. He frowns when he sees Petra nod at him eagerly. “This isn’t a costume. I’m actually a student EMT. Look, I have my … stuff.” He pats at his pockets as he tries to find a tool on his person that will prove his profession. His hand finds the radio strapped to his belt and he unhooks it, holding it up so that Petra can see the initials of their college printed on the side as well as the words Student EMT. 

Petra gazes at the radio and then nods seriously. “You did really well with your costume. I have props too!” She grabs at the stethoscope hanging around her neck, yanking it off and handing it over to Levi. She doesn’t remember having the stethoscope at the beginning of the night - she’s not even sure if one came with her costume or if someone dressed as a doctor gave it to her - but she’s glad she has it now. Maybe Levi will be more impressed once he sees how realistic her nurse costume is, even if she’s wearing fishnets and high heels that would definitely not be allowed in any type of hospital environment. 

The EMT looks at the fake stethoscope warily, but he takes it anyway. “You know I’m a premed, right?” he asks as he turns the prop in his hands. He raises an eyebrow at Petra. “I’m really a student EMT.” 

“Yeah, and I’m pre-law,” she replies. She pauses, thinking for a moment. “Wait, I mean I’m a nursing student,” she backtracks. 

“Sure,” says Levi in a tone that says he doesn’t believe her at all. 

Beside him, Petra pouts, her cheeks puffing out. What does she have to do to get this guy to sleep with her? “Look,” she says. “It’s just a one-night thing. Don’t overthink it. It’s just …” Petra waves her hand and looks up at the sky as if the stars have the words she’s looking for. When she finally remembers what she’s going to say, she points a finger at the EMT, poking him in the chest. “A night of companionship. I don’t know why you’re playing so hard to get. It’s not that big of a deal.” 

“If it’s not a big deal, then you can ask anyone else, can’t you?” Levi asks, swatting her hand away although he doesn’t do it with malice. He sounds a little annoyed, but he doesn’t make an effort to tell Petra to get lost. She takes it as a sign that he likes her, even if it’s just a little bit. 

Petra lets out a high-pitched whine because she’s far too drunk and upset to come up with any words right now. 

“Stop, stop, stop making that noise!” Levi hisses, panicking because the noise is attracting the attention of tipsy passersby that are stumbling home from other Halloween parties. His request is only met with an even louder high-pitched noise from Petra, forcing him to clamp his hands over her mouth. 

In the distance, Hanji and Rico watch, the vampire barely able to contain their laughter. 

Petra blinks at the EMT. It might be because she’s drunk or maybe it’s because she’s in love, but he looks very pretty up close. Even if he glares at her like he’s about to kill her, she can’t help but notice what a clear crystal blue his eyes are and how nicely they contrast with his jet-black hair. She reaches up, trying to pry his hand off her mouth so she can tell him just exactly how attractive he is, but the guy is crazy strong. Who knew EMTs could be so jacked? 

“If I take my hand off your mouth, will you promise to be quiet?” he asks. 

She nods. 

Levi removes his hand and Petra takes a deep breath of the night air, cold as it hits her lungs. He watches her cautiously as if he’s afraid she’ll let out another piercing whine, but she doesn’t. He relaxes beside her. 

They sit like that for a while, Levi watching Petra as she sits sullenly beside him, just breathing deeply and glaring at him every once in a while. 

The EMT leans forward, elbow resting on his knee and chin in his hand. He prods Petra with her foot, the touch making her jump. “Hey, you’re awfully quiet now.” 

“You told me to be quiet,” Petra mumbles. 

He rolls his eyes. “Just don’t make that noise again.” 

“Okay,” she agrees brightly. She scoots over, her thigh against his again, and beams at his tired expression. “Does that mean—?” 

“You’re very drunk,” he replies. 

Petra makes an offended noise. “Why does everyone keep saying that? I’m perfectly sober,” she tells him. She starts to stand up, wobbling at the end of the EMT vehicle. She’s not sure what she’s going to do, but she wants it to be impressive. Maybe a cartwheel or something amazing. “Would a drunk person be able to do this—?” Before she can do anything, Levi yanks her back down. 

“You’re at that level of drunk where you could probably do anything if you really wanted to. But you don’t have to prove any of it to me,” Levi says. His hand is still firmly around her wrist in case she tries to do something dangerous. “But you did just stumble over here - in a very crooked line, I might add - and propositioned me, a complete stranger, for sex.” 

“I did what? No, I didn’t.” Petra wrinkles her nose. She has no idea how he got that idea. Maybe it’s her dress? But he didn’t seem very judgemental about it before. Maybe he was a lot more attracted to her than she had thought. “I just asked you to sleep with me. Like …” Petra wrestles her hand away from Levi so she can tangle her index fingers and wiggle them together, a gesture that does absolutely nothing to clarify what she means to Levi. “You know, like cuddling.” 

Levi just stares. 

“You can’t really be a pre-med if you couldn’t even figure that out,” Petra snorts. 

Exasperated, the EMT runs his hands through his hair. When he looks back up, his hair is sexily tousled back away from his forehead. Petra’s not sure if it was intentional or not, but it’s a good look on him. 

“And you couldn’t ask your roommates?” 

“They said no,” Petra whines. Her bottom lip is sticking out again, but he seems impervious to any kind of pouting. 

“You can’t just, I don’t know, hug a teddy bear?” he asks. 

“Stuffed animals lack the warmth and affection humans do,” Petra replies. She clings to Levi’s arm, blinking up at him through mascaraed eyelashes. “Please?” 

He opens his mouth and Petra is almost certain that he’s about to refuse her again but she bats her lashes at him and the EMT almost chokes. He coughs, pounding a fist against his chest while Petra rubs his back sympathetically. When he’s finally caught his breath, he looks at her and says, very calmly, “I don’t think you understand. You’re very, very drunk.” 

The fact that they’re still playing this game makes Petra want to scream in frustration, but she doesn’t want another hand clamped over her mouth. Instead, she smiles very sweetly at the EMT and repeats, “Yes. I’m very, very, very, very, very drunk.” 

“And even if I wanted to sleep with you, I’m still on my shift,” Levi says, gesturing towards his getup. 

Geez, he’s so dedicated to his costume. Petra’s not sure whether she should be impressed or annoyed. She decides to just go along with it and nods. “You can just wear the costume then. I won’t mind.” She doesn’t really make a habit of asking complete strangers to spoon with her in bed, but she’s not opposed to them wanting to roleplay in bed as long as they don't make it weird. And at least Levi looks hot in his EMT outfit. It might be kind of hot, actually. 

“This isn’t … nevermind,” Levi says with a frustrated sigh. He rubs his face in his hands and then looks at Petra, who’s still looking at him with the same hopeful expression she’s been looking at him with all night. “What if I just gave you my phone number?” 

“Your phone number?” she repeats. A new phone contact means a new friend, which means someone new to distract her from reading case files. It sounds like a good idea, but then … “Does this mean you won’t sleep with me?” 

“If you ask me again when you’re sober, I might consider it,” he tells her. He holds out his hand. 

Petra looks Levi up and down. “Will you still be wearing your costume?” she asks curiously. 

“I …” Levi looks down at himself and sighs again. “Most likely. Now hand over your phone. I’ll give you my number.” He gestures for Petra to give him her phone. 

“Okay,” Petra says happily. She fishes her phone out of her bra, ignoring the scandalized look on Levi’s face, and plops it into the EMT’s hands. Her head rests on his shoulder as she watches him put in his contact information. 

“You can only call me from here,” he tells her as he finishes inputting his name. “I don’t have text at this number.” 

It’s awfully inconvenient, but Petra won’t complain. It was such a struggle just to get anything out of him tonight. Maybe he’ll be friendlier tomorrow when she calls. When Levi hands her back her phone, Petra looks at her screen and frowns at her new contact. 

“Why did you put your name as EMT?” she asks. 

“Those are my initials,” he replies. 

“Ah,” Petra nods as if this makes perfect sense and, really, it does when you’re drunk enough. “Is that why you dressed up as an EMT?” 

“Sure,” he says amusedly. He gets off the back of the cart and pulls Petra’s heels from out of the grass. Petra is about to reach for them and put them on herself, but Levi is already kneeling down and helping her into them. The experience makes her feel a little bit like Cinderella. “Call me if you’re having trouble getting home or something.” 

“Shouldn’t I be calling you when I make it home okay?” she wonders. 

“No,” Levi says. He holds out a hand to help her up. He looks at her for a moment before shrugging off his EMT windbreaker and wrapping it around her. “It’s cold tonight. Can you make it over to your friends okay or do you want me to walk you over?” 

Petra doesn’t respond. The only thing she can think about right now is how unexpectedly gentlemanly he was with his jacket. She doesn’t really know what to do with the windbreaker so Levi helps her put her arms through it so she can wear it properly, her heart skipping a beat when he zips it up and she realizes just how warm she is now that she has the jacket. 

“I think my heart just stopped,” she tells him. 

“Really?” Levi asks with an eyebrow raised. He pauses for a moment and, when he makes sure Petra hasn’t fallen over from cardiac arrest, he pats her on the head. She almost whines from how gently he does it. “You’re fine. Go to your friends. And remember to call if you need help.” 

“Okay,” Petra says, a little dazed even as Levi turns her around and she begins to stumble back to her friends. She would have skipped, but she almost broke her ankle after taking the first step and the EMT seemed very concerned about her safety. Petra didn’t want to make him worry. 

“You’re back,” Hanji says, holding out their arms for Petra to run into. 

“I’m back~” Petra sings as she throws her arms around Hanji. 

“What about your cuddle buddy?” asks Rico. 

Petra goes limp, Hanji being the only thing to hold her up. The tips of her shoes drag as Hanji carries the nurse awkwardly back towards their dorm. “He said I was too drunk to sleep with, so he gave me his number,” Petra mumbles into the soft silky-fabric of Hanji’s cape. The more she thinks about Levi and his gentle EMT hands, the more teary-eyed she gets. Her nose starts to run and tears prickle the corner of her eyes. “But I think he ran away with my heart.” 

“Aw,” Hanji says sympathetically as they pat Petra on the head. “You’ll get him next time, Pet.” 

Petra falls asleep with her head on Hanji’s shoulder and dreams of a raven-haired EMT with careful hands and pretty blue eyes. 

----------

Petra wakes up with a pounding headache that starts at the back of her eyes and only gets worse from there. She squints, covering her eyes from the little light that streams in from the curtains in her bedroom. Her eyes feel swollen, like she had been crying all night. Her throat is unbearably dry, but her mouth tastes oddly of mint instead of the gross morning breath that usually follows after a night of reckless drinking. Rico probably brushed her teeth for her last night and, Petra thinks as she takes a glance at her person, dressed her in her pajamas too. 

With a moan, Petra rolls off her bed, her blankets wrapped around her to cushion her fall as she crashes onto the ground. She’d groan at the pain, but everything hurts and a fall doesn’t make much of a difference at this point. She sits up, shaking her head so that her hair isn’t all over her face anymore, and scoots on her butt, only getting up once on her knees to pull open the door before continuing her scooting until she finds herself in the living room. Rico and Hanji are sitting at the dining table watching her with amused expressions on their faces. 

Petra rolls over onto her face so that she doesn’t have to look at the lighting in the kitchen. Everything is so fucking bright. 

“How are you feeling, Pet?” Hanji asks as they munch on a sandwich that Petra was pretty sure was hers. 

“I feel like shit,” Petra mumbles into the carpet. The nylon on the floor scratches against her cheek, but it feels strangely pleasant rubbing against her skin. She nuzzles her face harder against it before she realizes that it’s been a while since any of them vacuumed. Maybe the alcohol isn’t entirely out of her system yet. Petra rolls over. “What time is it?” 

“It’s almost 2,” Rico replies, nibbling on a cracker. The soup she’s eating smells incredibly enticing, but Petra doesn’t think she can stomach food at the moment. “You’ve been sleeping for over twelve hours.” 

Petra groans again, pulling the blankets over her head. “Why did you guys let me drink that much?” 

“Well, we tried to stop you, but you’re awfully convincing,” Hanji says. A piece of lettuce hangs from their mouth. “Your law career is looking promising.” 

“Thanks,” Petra grumbles. She lays on the carpet for a few more moments before she decides she should try to become a decent human being again. With an unholy moan, she manages to stand upright and hop over to the kitchen table, her blankets still wrapped around her. 

“Eat something,” Rico says. She pushes the rest of her chicken soup towards Petra, but her roommate only shakes her head. 

“I don’t think I’m gonna be able to eat anytime soon,” Petra mumbles, resting her head on the table. The surface is nice and cool against her skin. 

“Just drink the broth then,” Rico tells her, pushing the soup even closer. 

Petra lifts her head and takes a sniff. The smell of chicken soup - a mixture of hearty broth, succulent chunks of chicken, diced carrots and celery, and sweet kernels of corn - is incredibly enticing even as her stomach churns uneasily. It couldn’t hurt to just take a sip of the soup, Petra decides. 

“Fine.” She leans over and laps up some of the broth like a dog. Warmth fills her mouth, slips down her throat, and fills her belly. It’s so good that she lets out a whimper. 

Her roommates watch her - Rico with an expression close to disgust while Hanji’s is closer to fascination. Petra ignores the both of them and continues to lap up the broth, sometimes managing to get in a kernel of corn or two too. She hopes she’ll be able to keep this down because it tastes so damn good. 

“So are you going to call that guy?” Hanji asks. 

Petra looks up from her soup and only blinks at Hanji in confusion. “What guy?” 

“The one from yesterday,” Hanji reminds her. Their chin rests in their hand as they watch Petra. “You know. The EMT.” 

She does vaguely recall talking with someone dressed as an EMT yesterday, although she doesn’t remember much of their conversation. Petra takes a pause on drinking her soup and tries to remember the rest of their conversation, only coming up with bits and pieces. He had friends that left them alone for a bit. She talked with him and she remembers him having very gentle hands. And she does remember that he gave her his number … so that she could ask him to sleep with him another time. 

“Oh my god,” Petra moans as the bits and pieces of last night begin to fall into place. Her head falls and it probably would have hit the table if Hanji hadn’t reached out to act as a cushion. She doesn’t know why her head feels impossibly heavy this morning when it was clearly empty of any thought last night. “I asked him to sleep with me, didn’t I?” 

“You did,” Rico confirms. 

“And I didn’t specify …?” She looks up at Hanji, who only snickers at her. With a groan, she lets her head fall again, forehead falling so hard against Hanji’s hand that they pull it back with a yelp. 

She doesn’t know why she’s so mortified. She’ll probably never see the guy again seeing as last night was the first time they’ve ever interacted in all the years that Petra’s attended the university. Even if she does see him again, she can just pretend she was too drunk that night to really remember anything, and maybe he’ll be kind enough to play along with it. After all, he was considerate enough to decline her offer to sleep with her, although she doesn’t know if she should be grateful or slightly offended since she looked great last night. But he was very sweet last night and he was very good-looking and Petra thinks that it wouldn’t be too terrible if she saw him again. Maybe she should give him a call to apologize at least. 

“Where’s my phone?” Petra asks suddenly. 

“Oh, I’ll get it,” Hanji says, jumping up from their seat. They walk over to the counter and pull out Petra’s phone from the fruit basket, buried under some bananas and oranges. They plop the phone into Petra’s hand and shrug at their roommate’s puzzled expression. “You kept calling his number and we had to take your phone away from you.” 

“I kept calling him?” Petra repeats. She doesn’t remember that at all. With a frown, she unlocks her phone and scrolls through her call history to find over a dozen calls to the same number - EMT. “How many times did I call him?” 

“Too many,” Rico replies. 

Petra doesn’t remember any conversation with the EMT after he gave her his number. She looks suspiciously at the number, thinking that it looks awfully familiar. “This isn’t his number, is it?” she says, somehow already knowing the answer. 

“It’s the school’s Emergency Medical Service,” Hanji snickers. Halloween is over, but they look incredibly wicked with that grin on their face. “You kept telling them that some guy named Levi broke your heart and they said they didn’t provide any medical services for heartbreak.” 

Ugh. That name does sound familiar. As does that conversation. And the EMS. She had really thought that it was a costume, but suddenly all his “props” and the EMT cart and all of his EMT friends made sense. She really was an idiot last night. Petra lays her head on the table again and wonders if the school EMS does euthanasia procedures. She wouldn’t mind dying right now. 

“I was so annoying that he gave me their number instead,” Petra sniffles. 

“Do you want ice cream?” Hanji asks sympathetically. 

Ice cream does sound good right now, but Petra’s not sure if she should eat that. Even if she could keep it down, she doesn’t deserve it. Ice cream isn’t for hungover people that made fools out of themselves in front of handsome strangers. 

“I’m not sure that he thought you were entirely annoying. If that were true, he wouldn’t have talked to you for so long. Or given you the number to EMS in case you needed help. Or lent you his jacket,” Rico points out. 

Petra perks up at the last one. “I have his jacket?” 

“Yeah,” Hanji nods. “You said you would use it to find him. Like Prince Charming and Cinderella’s shoe.” 

That … absolutely sounds like something a drunk Petra would say. 

“Okay, well, I don’t have his number so it’s not like I can find him,” Petra sighs. She sits up. “But maybe I can ask EMS …?” 

Rico shakes her head. “You tried that at least half a dozen times. They said they don’t give out private information. You even cried because you told us they wouldn’t even confirm if Levi was actually a part of their service.” 

She doesn’t blame them. She probably wouldn’t give drunk Petra her number either. “Then how am I going to find him?” Petra whines. 

“Ask Hanji.” 

Petra whips her head around, forgetting about her hangover for a second until she’s hit with another migraine. She tries to glare at Hanji, but she has to wince through the pain so it probably just looks like a very unflattering squint. “You know him?” 

“Yup,” Hanji hums, but they don’t offer Petra his number. 

“You’re not giving me his number, are you?” 

Hanji grins. “Nope,” they say, popping the “p.” Their grin grows wider. “You gotta earn that shit, Pet. If you want your Prince Charming, you’ll have to do it on your own.” 

Petra pouts, but Hanji doesn’t budge. She turns to Rico instead, putting on her biggest puppy eyes. “Ricooo~” she whines, but Rico only shakes her head. 

“No, you’re not dragging me into this. It was bad enough just having to deal with you last night. You know I brushed your teeth last night?” Rico asks. “It’s a lot more difficult than brushing your own teeth, especially when the other person is trying to bite you.” 

“And I am very grateful,” Petra says, leaning across the table so that Rico can get the full effect of her puppy eyes. Unfortunately, Rico is now an ExpertTM at dealing with Petra and looks away, getting up to disappear into her room. Petra stumbles after her, almost tripping over her blankets. 

“You’re on your own,” Rico says, shutting the door in Petra’s face without even looking behind her. Petra doesn’t know when Rico became so heartless. 

“I can’t believe you guys are just leaving me to find the EMT guy on my own with only my drunken memories and hangover migraine to help me,” Petra wails. She leans against the door to Rico’s room and slides down against it like a tragic heroine in a Victorian novel. 

“Rico has her own love life to attend to, so don’t be too hard on her,” Hanji says from the table. They get up to place their plate in the sink, rinsing the crumbs off with water. “She’s going on a date with Batman.” 

“Oh, Batman?” Petra says with a wistful sigh, a little envious that Rico can snag a date with her own handsome stranger. Then again, he probably isn’t that much of a stranger if Rico can get a hold of him. Petra can’t even contact her stranger. 

Rico’s door opens and Petra falls on her back. She looks up and sees her roommate dressed out of her pajamas and into a plaid dress thrown over a cream-colored blouse and black tights - very appropriate for the autumnal weather. 

“You dressed really quickly,” Petra says, sitting up as Rico steps around her. “Batman must be just as handsome with his mask off as he is with his mask on.”

Rico only rolls her eyes. “He has a name, you know.” 

“Bruce Wayne?” Hanji asks. 

“Cheekbones?” Petra suggests cheekily. 

“You guys are so …” Rico’s voice trails off without filling in the blank, her roommates giggling childishly. She slips on her flats and fixes her purse strap over her shoulder. She pauses to take a look at Petra, who’s still sitting on the floor sulking. She reaches for the door, thinks for a moment, and then says with a sigh, “There’s an event EMS is holding next week. They’re offering a CPR class. Your Prince Charming might be there.” 

“Really?” Petra asks, sitting up straighter. She frowns. “This isn’t a true love thing. I just want to return his jacket. And, like, maybe apologize for being a creep.” 

“Right,” Rico says, unconvinced. “I’ll text you the details in a little bit.” 

“How did you even find out about that anyway?” Petra asks curiously. 

“I literally just looked at the EMS website. It took me five seconds,” Rico snorts. They’re all roommates, but Rico is the only one with any brain cells. Petra isn’t sure what they’d do without her. Rico pulls the door open and gives her roommates a wave. “I’ll see you guys later. Don’t let Petra do anything stupid. I think she might still be a little …” She makes a loopy motion with her hand. 

“Bye~! Have fun on your date,” Hanji sings as Rico shuts the door behind her. They toss a grin over at Petra who’s still sitting on the floor. “Aren’t you lucky? You might be able to get your EMT to give you mouth-to-mouth.” 

“Shut up,” Petra mumbles, but the thought of the EMT’s lips pressed against hers does make her heart flutter. He looked like he had nice lips. Pretty and pink. Good for kissing. 

She flops back on the floor and pulls her blankets over her head. She can’t deal with anymore teasing. She’s been humiliated enough and she’s only been awake for half an hour. Petra sleeps there until Rico comes home and drags her to her bed. 

----------

The EMS class began at 5 PM. Petra knew that - had written it in her calendar and set about five alarms on her phone in case she forgot - and yet she still finds herself frantically running around the STEM building an hour after the class began because she doesn’t know where any of the rooms are except for the chemistry labs. The fact that she took far too long getting ready even though all she was doing was dropping off a jacket is probably also a major factor of her tardiness. Unfortunately, she doesn’t have the talent of getting ready in under five minutes like Rico does. 

“All of these rooms look the same,” Petra mutters as she wanders around the basement of the STEM building. They’re all cold-looking with speckled tiles and off-white walls. Some of these rooms still even have chalkboards, which Petra finds ridiculous because the law building transferred to smart boards by the time she was a freshman. The school really needs to funnel more of their funds into the STEM department, she thinks with a frown. 

She notices a classroom that people are slowly filtering out of. A few people wear the same EMT getup that she remembers seeing a few nights ago. Before they can disappear down the hall, Petra begins running down the hall, her heels clicking against the tiles. 

“Hey, excuse me!” she says, waving her hand to flag them down. “I need to talk to you guys!” 

The group of EMTs turns around, some confused and others surprised. She doesn’t really recognize any of them, but it’s not like she remembers too much about that night. The details are all fuzzy. 

“Hey, do you guys know someone named Levi?” Petra pants when she finally stops in front of them. She puts a hand against her chest and can feel her heart thudding against her rib cage. 

“Do you know him?” asks one of them, a tall blond with his hair tied up messily in a bun. Something about him is familiar, but Petra can’t say for sure. 

“I think I remember her,” someone murmurs behind him. 

Petra glances at the other EMT - someone with his brown hair cut short and his bangs neatly trimmed. She can’t remember him either. “I borrowed his jacket the other night. I came to return it to him,” she explains. 

“Ah!” says another man, one with sandy hair in curls. He points at Petra, probably not realizing how rude it is even when Petra wrinkles her nose at him. “That’s the girl from Halloween. She was a nurse last time.” He pauses. “You look really different.” 

“Yeah, believe it or not, I don’t usually dress like that,” Petra replies. She clears her throat and tosses her head. “So can you tell me where he is? I kind of want to give his jacket back to him today.” 

The EMTs all glance at each other before looking back at Petra. The first one that spoke raises his eyebrow at Petra. “Is that … all you’re going to do?” he asks. 

“Yeah, what else would I …?” Even if she can’t remember them, it comes to her realization that they do remember her as well as what she said last night. She really didn’t think she was stupid enough to proposition a stranger in front of a bunch of other people, but it seems that drunk Petra will continuously find new ways to embarrass her. Her cheeks flush as she tries to form coherent words. “I … am … I’m only interested in returning this. I promise.” 

They study her for a minute and, after deciding she’s harmless, visibly relax. Their reaction is a bit insulting. She doesn’t look that threatening, does she? Then again, maybe she should appreciate the fact that they care enough about their friend to protect him from harassment. 

“He’s in the room still,” the brunet answers, gesturing towards the room they had just left. “He’s packing up.” 

“Thanks,” Petra says. She’s about to take off but hangs back for a minute. “And sorry if I was, you know, weird the other night. I had a little bit too much to drink.” 

The tall blond nods understandingly. “So did a lot of people. After you showed up, we had to attend a call at a nearby party because way too many people got alcohol poisoning.” He shrugs. “Some people just don’t know their limit.” 

Petra nods in agreement even though she’s 95 percent certain that she was at that same party the other night. But they don’t have to know that. “Thanks again,” she says, waving awkwardly at them before disappearing into the classroom to find Levi. 

There aren’t very many people in the room aside from a few stragglers, the instructor, and a lone EMT who’s kneeling on the ground and packing up his things. He’s incredibly meticulous about packing, Petra notices. He makes sure his instruments are the right way, taking the time to inspect every tool before placing it back in his kit. When Petra approaches, he doesn’t look up even when she stands right in front of him. This situation seems awfully familiar. 

“I’ll be leaving now, Levi,” the instructor calls as they usher the other students out of the room. “I’ll see you next week, yeah?” 

“See you,” Levi grunts, still packing things back in his kit. He doesn’t pay any mind to Petra. 

Petra waits a minute, thinking that it might be because he’s one of those people that likes to finish what they’re doing before they move onto another task. It only takes five seconds before she begins to lose patience. It doesn’t matter if he’s trying not to get distracted, she thinks. Ignoring people is rude. He should at least acknowledge her. 

She stomps her foot, hoping that will be enough to get him to look up, but he doesn’t. Frustrated, she lets out a whine but that doesn’t prompt the EMT to pay her any mind either. Finally, she kneels down across from him and puts a hand on top of his kit so that he can’t ignore her even if he wanted to. 

He looks up, his eyes the same cool blue they were the other night. They’re impossibly pretty. It should be a crime to have eyes that shade of blue, Petra thinks. 

“Hi,” she manages to stammer. It isn’t the introduction she was hoping for. Or re-introduction, really. Not that a re-introduction would help after the first impression she gave him on Halloween. 

“Hi,” he replies. He removes her hand from his kit and continues to pack. Petra shouldn’t find his standoffishness so attractive, but she does, frustratingly enough. She thinks he’s going to continue ignoring her but he suddenly says, “Class is over. You’re late.” 

“I’m not here for the class,” she begins. 

“Oh, right.” His eyes flicker upward as he shuts the kit closed. “Because you’re a nurse. You probably already know CPR.” 

“It was just a costume,” Petra mumbles, feeling her cheek heat up again. She’s beginning to think that meeting up with him again was a mistake. Clearly, he just thinks she’s an idiot. He’s probably not wrong though. “I’m pre-law.” 

“Makes sense,” he says with a nod. He picks up his kit and stands up, brushing off his pants. To Petra’s surprise, he offers her a hand. His hand is just as nice and gentle as she remembers; calloused palms but a sweet touch. “You made a very compelling argument about how you were a nurse.” 

“Okay, you don’t have to keep reminding me. I’m embarrassed enough as it is,” she says. Her head hangs, eyes looking at the tip of her heels. She doesn’t think she can look him in the eye right now. Or maybe even ever. “I’m sorry if I was acting creepy the other night. I was just … super drunk.” 

He shrugs and turns towards the door. He doesn’t exactly make a gesture for Petra to follow him, but she can’t exactly stay here so she trails after him. She also notices that his shoulders are very broad. Were student EMTs always this attractive? She never hung out in the STEM building enough to notice. 

“It’s fine,” he tells her. “At least you didn’t throw up on me.” 

Even if it’s true, Petra isn’t sure this is a good thing. Did his job require him to encounter a lot of drunk people? “Do lots of people throw up on you?” she asks curiously. 

“You’d be surprised how many,” Levi replies. He stops so suddenly that Petra almost crashes into his broad and manly back. She kind of wishes she had. He turns around, head tilted. “If you didn’t come for CPR lessons, why did you come?” 

“Oh!” She had almost forgotten. Petra reaches into her bag and pulls out his windbreaker. She kind of regrets just shoving it into her bag and getting it all wrinkled. Maybe she should have ironed it and brought it on a coat hanger as if she had just brought it from the dry cleaners. Do people dry clean windbreakers? Or even iron them? Petra frowns as she offers the jacket to Levi. “I came to bring this back. Thanks for letting me borrow it the other night. Even though I was kind of being a weird creep.” 

“Oh.” Levi takes the windbreaker. “Thanks.” 

“I washed it,” Petra tells him. She doesn’t know why she needs to tell him this. It’s a given that she would wash someone’s clothes before returning them, but she doesn’t want Levi to think she isn’t. She just needs to make sure so that he doesn’t get the wrong idea about her again. 

He blinks at her but doesn’t say anything. After a moment, he says, “Is that it?” 

Is there supposed to be more? Petra isn’t sure what else there’s supposed to be. She thought he would have wanted her to leave as soon as possible. The possibility that Levi isn’t merely just tolerating her - that he might actually find her cute - isn’t something that she’s anticipated. 

“Do you want there to be more?” Petra asks, narrowing her eyes at him.  

Levi doesn’t blush. It figures that he’s the type not to blush. He has to be so goddamn cool all the way until the end. He does, however, avoid making eye contact Petra, which she finds incredibly suspicious. Suspicious and very cute. 

“Maybe … you thought I was cute that night and you wanted to see me again?” Petra asks, a sly grin growing on her face. She points a finger at him, poking him in the chest. “And you were hoping I’d return your jacket so you could talk to me again?” 

He doesn’t confirm or deny any of her statements. He just reaches back to scratch his neck, probably unintentionally flexing his bicep in front of her but Petra is definitely Looking and he is definitely a lot buffer than any EMT needs to be. He could probably throw her over his shoulder easily and carry her like a potato sack. 

“Aw, are you upset that I missed the CPR class?” she teases. She pokes him in the arm and, yes, his bicep is very firm and toned and muscular. “Maybe you were hoping to teach me how to do mouth-to-mouth?” 

Levi sighs tiredly before walking away, but Petra eagerly follows behind him. “You know that’s not what we teach in CPR classes, right? It’s only really necessary to learn how to administer chest compressions unless you’re an EMT yourself.” 

“Oh,” Petra frowns. She was starting to think she was getting the upper hand in this conversation, but she’s sorely lacking in knowledge on lifesaving techniques. This is what she gets for missing the CPR class. 

“I, however,” Levi says, turning around to face Petra, “am certified to give mouth-to-mouth.” He takes a step towards her and Petra finds herself standing very, very close to the hot EMT guy. 

Levi was gorgeous when Petra was drunk out of her mind and he’s gorgeous now standing inches in front of her and completely sober. He might be even more gorgeous now that she’s sober and able to take in every detail about him. Like how dark his lashes look against the pretty blue of his eyes. Or the way the look in his eyes grows slightly darker when he approaches her. Or the way he parts his lips - slightly chapped but an intriguing shade of pink - just the tiniest bit. He’s the perfect height for kissing, Petra thinks. She could easily take a step and press her lips against his without having to stand on her tiptoes. The thought of it causes an awkward thud in her chest. 

“I think my heart just stopped,” she blurts. 

Levi raises his eyebrow. “You’re going to have to see an actual doctor for that then,” he tells her, but he continues to stand insufferably close to her with no indication that he’s going to move anytime soon. Maybe he just likes to make her heart suffer. 

“Are you going to kiss me?” she asks. Her voice sounds a lot more breathless than she’d like it to be, but between her almost suffering another cardiac arrest under the hands of Levi and the fact that she can’t quite breathe because of the lack of distance between them, she supposes she could sound worse. 

He looks at her, head tilted, and the cockiest grin Petra has ever seen begins to grow on his face. “I should at least buy you dinner first,” he replies. Levi turns and continues down the hall without her. 

The sight of the EMT’s broad back brings Petra a lot less joy than it did ten minutes ago. She stares at him and his wide shoulders wistfully until she realizes what he had just said. That wasn’t actually a rejection, right? 

“Hey, are you buying me dinner?” Petra asks, chasing after him. 

Of course, he doesn’t slow down for him, the bastard. He grins when she catches up to him, giving her a cheeky side glance. “Do you like Korean food? There’s a place nearby. They have good hangover soup.” 

“I haven’t even drank anything since last week!” she protests. She pouts, her cheeks puffing up like a chipmunk’s. “You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?” 

His grin grows wider. “No.” 

Seeing his smile makes Petra’s heart do that weird thing where it skips a beat again, or maybe it just stopped entirely. It’s a strange feeling that doesn’t exactly hurt, but it’s certainly new. Maybe she’ll get used to it. It’s probably not serious anyway. And, well, even if it is, she’s sure Levi can help. 

[yoonia]

About Time // Part 17

Character: Jungkook x reader / Jimin x reader (feat. BTS)

↳ Type/Genre/words | Angst, Fluff, Alternate Universe (Time Travel!au/Time Leap!au, Soulmate!au), Mature/+18 only / 10k words

↳ Prompts | “What if you find your soulmate… at the wrong time?” - Lauren Kate, Passion

↳ Summary | Be careful for what you wish for, because you may never know how to deal with them once it comes true. What would you do when your wish for a second chance actually came true? But was it really a fulfilled wish? Too many questions lie when it actually happened. Were they real memories? Or perhaps a part of a past life? Was it only a dream all along? Will everything be different this time?

↳ Warnings | mentions of cancer, (probably) inaccurate medical and law terms

↳ Author’s Note | This chapter was initially longer, but I had to split it into two parts to make it easier to read because some parts may be a bit...too much to handle in one reading. I hope the next chapter can be posted right after this one. Enjoy!

↳ ⤎ Previous Chapter | Series Index: About Time | Next Chapter ⇢

—First life. St. Vincent’s Hospital, year 2027—

While it seemed like I was stuck in place, that time and everything around me had stood still, I could still feel it as the world outside continued to evolve.

Though it might sound contrary to what I had wished for, I had kind of expecting for Jungkook to still be relentless on trying to see me or contact me for him to get what he wanted. I had prepared myself in case he would show up here in the hospital with another surprise visit or to give me continuous text messages and phone calls to remind me of his threats. Yet almost a week had passed, and he had yet to give me any of it.

Instead of smothering me and haunting me like I had thought he would, Jungkook only did the other way around. He disappeared.

By the time the week was coming to an end, as time kept moving stealthily slow between days of treatments, medications, and scheduled therapies, I finally got myself the surprise visit that I had been anticipating for.

Only it was not Jungkook who came to see me.

It was his older brother.

Jeon Junghyun had always been the level headed one out of the two brothers. He was the one person that Jungkook would run to whenever he needed help, the only voice of reason that could have made a lot of differences if only Jungkook would do just that whenever he was facing a problem, instead of running to his old friends that could only give him all the wrong solutions.

At some point in my marriage, Junghyun had even taken my older brother’s place as my confidant, and sometimes, as a mediator to help me communicate with either Jungkook or his family. He would always come to me with open arms and listen to all of my troubles whenever I needed someone to talk to, giving me all the right advices and the right answers which I could not get from other places.

I could not exactly remember how the two brothers had drifted apart. The only thing I knew was that the moment Junghyun stopped appearing in our lives, that was when everything came tumbling down.

“You should have come to me,” he said to me as he sat down next to the bed, after we had gone through all the unnecessary pleasantries as if we were two strangers instead of the close related in-laws we once were.

It was obvious that he was not completely sure about coming in here alone. While seeing him here, watching how his eyes grew wide as if he still could not believe he would find me here when he first entered the room, to the moment his gaze softened with concern, I started to feel guilty for not letting him know about what had happened. The problem I had was with Jungkook, and it was not fair for me to bring his family down with it.

But I was not about to say that to him. Not when I was not sure whether he would be taking his brother’s side or mine.

“And what good would that be?” was all that I could say, though I could not help but give him a sad smile. “You can’t always fix everything, Junghyun. Certainly not this.”

Junghyun shook his head slowly. The grim look he had on his face told me more about what he was feeling at the moment. “I could have been there for you so you won’t have to face everything alone. If only I’d known—”

“I was not alone. I had Yoongi who helped me reconnect with my brother,” I cut him off and winced when he looked up at me with eyes full of shock. Sighing, I continued with a softer voice, ”Hoseok has been here for me through everything. They had already done more than what your brother could’ve given me,”

“I know what Jungkook did,” he said, after giving me a bit of silence.

“Did you?” my voice came out small. I knew I should not have blamed him for what his brother had done, but I had to know. “Did you know about it when it happened?”

Once again, Junghyun shook his head. “He wasn’t talking to me then,” he said, sighing deeply. His eyes were full of remorse as he ran his hands through his meticulously styled hair. “I had to force it out of him to know what he did the day we met. He came to our family lawyer, saying that he needed to discuss some stuff. When I found out that he was talking about divorce papers, I knew something was wrong, so I ambushed him at the lawyer’s office and forced him to tell me everything.”

Rubbing his hands over his face, he told me how his brother confessed to all of his faults — from abandoning me after the day of my last miscarriage, about how he had left me feeling neglected while he searched for comfort on alcohol and another woman without putting me or our marriage in his mind. The more he spoke, the more he looked as if he was also hurting from what Jungkook had done, if not disappointed at his brother for making so many mistakes altogether.

“Do you know what he’s doing to me now?” I asked him once he was done talking, after he muttered a few apologies as if he could have done something to undo everything or stop them before they had ever happened.

There was no need for him to say anything for me to know the answer. Jungkook was backed up by their family lawyer, after all.

“He loves you so much.”

I could not hold back the laughter that came bubbling from my throat. “And yet he torments me for it.”

Junghyun sighed. As if it was the only thing he could do when he was just as lost as I was in finding a way to deal with all of this. “He was sheltered all through his life until he found you,” he said, as if his words could make a difference. “He grew up having people fixing his problems for it so the only thing he knew what to do was to ignore them until they go away.”

“I knew that,” I told him with a scoff, holding back from reminding him of how many times in the past I called out Jungkook for that trait. And how many times I had to remind myself that no matter what I had done, there would be something about Jungkook that would never change. “And yet—”

I keep coming back to him.

Closing my eyes, I looked past the rage and the hatred that I had felt stronger for Jungkook during the past few days. With him not appearing before me to remind me of all the threats he had given me, I was beginning to resent him less and less for what he said to me that day.

Though it did not erase the pain that I still felt from his betrayals. “Still doesn’t explain why it was so easy for him to find someone else to fuck with if he really had loved me so much.”

This time, Junghyun shared the same disappointment and pain in his eyes when he groaned. “That one, I cannot explain.”

As we exchanged gazes in our silence that fell after, it felt like we had something to agree with. It was no denying that there was nothing left for us to fix. The only thing we could do was to move on and Jungkook was the one making it hard for both of us to get out of this standstill, to be able to protect what was left of us.

If he would keep this up, there would be nothing left of us but specks of dust and bitter memories of each other.

“You have always been so forgiving,” Junghyun muttered with a bitter smile.

“And for that, I had enabled him to do things as he pleased because of how much I loved him. The fear of losing him was much stronger for me to look the other way,” I admitted, closing my eyes as I began blaming myself for letting me be in this position.

“And now?”

I scoffed. “Look at me. I don’t have anything left. I’ve run out of things to break and if he breaks me again—I’m not sure if I can survive it,” I said, pointing at myself — mostly on the way I was motionless on the hospital bed and everything else attached to my body after my last chemotherapy the other day. “All I want is to have whatever chance I could get—no matter how small—to be happy.”

“But not with him.”

I looked over and was relieved to find that Junghyun was looking at me with curiosity, not that he was demanding me to forgive his brother and give him another chance, but just to understand what it was that I wanted.

“I can forgive him. I will always be able to. You know that,” I told him, smiling bitterly.

“But I can’t forget. He had hurt me too much and I have kept all these wounds inside me for far too long. The only way for me to heal and to continue living, even with the limited amount of time I might have left, is for him to let me go.”

That night, I told Jimin about the surprise visit and the conversation I had with Jungkook’s brother as we lied down on my bed.

At this point, nearly the entire hospital staffs had known about our affair. At least, those who were working on our floor, since both of us had stopped being discreet about it.

Thankfully, things were just the same as the time when we used to slip into each others’ rooms after our treatments. Nobody reacted negatively when they found out. Except for a couple of the strict staffs that would give eyes the stink eyes when they saw Jimin leaving my room in the morning, the other nurses and some of the security staff on this floor had only given us knowing looks and light scoldings about him leaving his room without permission, but did nothing more to stop us to share the bed. The last warning we had before tonight came from the night shift nurse who came by in her rounds and said, “Just be careful about breaking the bed,” while raising her brows knowingly. “And we’re not taking any responsibility if you kids get into trouble.”

Jimin and I laughed about her warnings when he came in, before his brows creased the moment he heard about Junghyun coming to see me and after I told him all that we talked about regarding Jungkook.

“He promised to talk to his brother, to convince Jungkook to make the right decision instead of making things a lot worse,” I told Jimin as he got worried, thinking that perhaps Junghyun had come in as a reinforcement to take Jungkook’s side when he only left after promising me that he would do the best he could to change his brother’s mind about the papers.

“You know that he can’t really take things to court. He can’t do that with your condition and when the documents you have handed for the divorce are legit,” Junghyun had told me, helping me to calm my thoughts a little. “I’ll work with your brother before he comes in to see our family lawyers. Pretty sure I can have our lawyer prepare another offer and make a better a deal that works for the two of you in the future.”

Jimin tucked my head against his shoulder. I could feel his hand running down my thinning hair, soothing me while he was listening to me speak. Though I partly believed that he needed that contact to calm himself down at the same time.

“If only I’d known what I had put myself into—” I wondered loudly while my mind traced back to all the decisions I had made which led me to this point.

Jimin chuckled bitterly beside me. “Remember what I said about turning back time? Whenever I wonder about the same thing, I always try to imagine if I could change anything I’ve ever done if only I had a chance to do it.”

Scoffing at the thought, I looked up to him. “Really? You think about changing your past?”

“Don’t you?” he asked me, raising his brows questioningly as if he already knew what my answer would be.

“You’re right. I do think about things like that randomly whenever I have some regrets,” I murmured softly, admitting for the first time that I had always thought about all the things that I would have done differently if I had to look back into the past.

“Can’t help it,” he said, sighing deeply while pressing his lips on the top of my head. “I guess that’s how our minds cope with all the terrible things we’re dealing with at the present time. To make us think that it’s possible to change things to make us feel less worthless and to stop us from wallowing too deep into all the regretful things we’d gone through.”

“If you could turn back time, what would you wish for?” I asked him. “Would you do things differently?”

Humming, Jimin looked up to the ceiling with a dreamy look in his eyes as he answered me, “There are a lot of things that I wish I could change. Maybe I could still do some things that I loved to do, but do it differently. I’d stay in school, keep in touch with my family, fall in love—”

“So you wouldn’t have to meet me?”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” Jimin cut me off, chuckling when I playfully pushed him away. He took me into his arms, pressing his lips on mine to drown our shared laughter.

I was ready for a gentle kiss, something that he would usually do just to shut me up. I was not expecting him to suddenly push through, to have his tongue penetrating through the seams of my lips, devouring me instead of just taking it easy with a simple kiss.

The kiss lasted longer when I got lost in it, then I felt the heaviness in the air building up the moment he pulled himself back. There was something in his eyes that I could not read. Something dark and cold, and it made me want to wrap my arms around him and never let go.

As if I was not the only one there that was left with broken pieces.

“I wish I could have found you first,” he said, tears curtained his eyes. “Perhaps it would have saved us both all the heartache, all the pain, and I could have made you happy. We could love each other and take care of one another without any worries, without being so scared of being wronged.”

I looked into his eyes searchingly, when his words triggered something inside me. Like there was a thread inside my chest that began to grow tight. It tightened, pulling itself up until it was clogged in my throat. I had no idea what it was.

Regret? Hope? Or was it the wounds from the past opening itself to remind me that there would never be a chance for me to rewind everything. That there was nobody else to blame for all the pain I have had to endure all these years but myself.

Jimin tipped my chin gently, wordlessly demanding for my attention. “How about you? Would you do things differently?”

My lips curled down to a bitter smile. I had to choose my words wisely to be able to share what I was feeling. Then I decided that the only way I could properly heal was to be honest with myself and face the bitter truth.

“I would have made different choices, yes,” I told him, looking deep into his eyes to say what I needed him to know about me the most. “I loved him, you know. He was the first person who had taught me about love, how to love, and made me feel loved. I thought he felt the same, but—”

But—

Why?

I have questioned myself the same thing over and over again, wondering why things had gone so wrong.

Jimin’s eyes were full of sorrow when he returned my gaze. “He wouldn’t be fighting so hard to get you back if he didn’t feel the same about you, love.”

Whatever it was that I was expecting to hear from him, certainly was not this. But it was enough to have me ask all the questions that I kept asking myself, everything that I never had the answers to.

“But why did he hurt me? Why does he keep doing these things?”

Why would he make my life feel miserable when all I have ever done was to love him and protect him with everything I had, even when everyone else had forsaken him, when people had forsaken us for being together?

“Why only fight for me now, after everything has been done, instead of then, when I needed him the most?”

Jimin brushed a thumb across my cheek, catching the moisture that had fallen without me realising it happening. “Because he’s desperate. He was lost and now he has no idea how to fix his own mess. Honestly, nobody can really tell the reason why but himself.”

I opened my mouth, quickly closing it again when I failed to find any word to respond to him with. He continued to caress my cheek and I instinctively rubbed my face against his palm, relishing the way he was calming me down. I felt bad about throwing all of this on him, but I was surprised to find him supporting me instead of pushing me away.

He was willing to listen and lend his shoulders for me to cry on, to reach out and willingly put his arms around me to shelter me in his embrace. And I felt extremely selfish for taking it all from him.

“When you talk to him again, ask him all the right questions so both of you can find the answers. Even if he finally gives in and lets you go, you probably wouldn’t be able to move on without knowing exactly what is going on in his mind. It will be hard for you to stop questioning things when you have absolutely no idea why he did all the things he had done.”

He was right. I knew he was and I knew that he was just saying all the things I should have known already but had slipped my mind when I was dealing with the situation with my emotions instead of using my head.

His words opened my eyes and I could feel the weight that had been filling my chest slowly being lifted.

“But you have to know this—” he suddenly added, right before I could even say anything. “No matter what his reasons were, they were never your fault. It wasn’t your fault that he hurt you. It was never your fault to feel so broken. And it was certainly not your fault when he broke your heart and your trust each time you gave him second, third, and many more chances by forgiving him and letting him back into your life. It’s always hard for someone to forgive others when they are hurt. Yet you have such a big heart to be able to forgive someone like that and welcome him with open arms. It’s his fault to take that for granted.”

“Why do you always have the right words to say?” my voice was small, cracking at the end of my words. But it was easy to notice how I was slowly healing. Not entirely. Not yet. But being able to speak about my problems and not dwell on them on my own truly helped.

This time, the smile he gave me reached his eyes. I could feel it and see it from the way he was looking at me before he finally said the words, “Because I love you.”

His words sent sparks fluttering inside my chest. It came to me so suddenly that I sucked my breath, and he caught my lips just as the first sob escaped me. Instead of crying, I found myself once again drowning in him and I leaned in for more, to let him devour every part of me that needed release until I could feel myself whole again through his touch.

“If only I had met you first—” he whispered to me when he pulled away, keeping his forehead pressed against mine. It was the same wishful thinking that he kept telling me, the same words we kept saying to each other. But this time, it felt somewhat—blissful, instead of feeling bittersweet to think about it.

“What would you do if we had?”

Jimin sighed. “I can’t promise you that we wouldn’t have some hard times. You know how stubborn I can be at times,” he said, making us both chuckle. “But I will never give up so easily and walk away when problem comes between us. I would never do that to you.”

From the past half of year I had known him, I knew that Jimin would never lie to me, even if it was only to make me feel better. I could see it in his eyes that he was telling me nothing but the truth. And right at that moment, just as we lost ourselves in our gazes, I felt something inside me that was begging me to do just the same, to only give him the truth and to always be honest with him.

Especially about what I was feeling.

“I love you, Jimin.”

Another day came passing by, another guest came to give me a surprise visit.

This time, though, the surprise was welcomed. Even if I clearly was not expecting to see her there.

She came in when I was snoozing off the exhaustion after my morning routines—the physical therapy and blood test which was taken to see how well I was hanging on after I had gotten the last drug pumped into my system. I was doing fine this morning. Yet on that afternoon, I woke up to a pain in my stomach. It had me clenching my hands tight but surprisingly felt no urge to throw my lunch out of my belly.

That was a first.

As my eyes slowly cleared out of the haze, that was when I finally saw her.

It was like looking through a piece of an old portrait the way I found her. Perched at the edge of my bed, she had her back facing the window, allowing the silver strands combing her dark hair to glow under the sunlight. She had yet to notice me awake as she had her head down, humming softly as she was peeling a tangerine so patiently and cleaning it up before placing them on a plate.

Just like the way she used to do it back when she was nursing my ailing mother.

“K-Kara?”

She nearly let go of the fruit in her hand at the sound of my voice, but managed to place it back into its basket as she moved to reach my hand. “Oh, baby—you’re awake,” she said, looking at me with her misty eyes. I knew then that some time while she was watching me asleep, she must have been crying.

The endearment she was giving me made me smile though, completely distracting me from her rattled state. “I’m not a baby, Kara. I’m about 30, after all,” I told her with a smile as I pushed myself up to sit.

Yet she scoffed and waved her small hand at me. “Almost. But not yet. It’s nowhere near your birthday yet,” she told me, smiling as she did, before a frown came to her face the minute she heard me clearing my dry throat. “What do you need? How are you feeling?”

“Thirsty,” I told her, frowning, and she was quick to leave her seat to help me with a glass of water.

“I peeled some tangerines for you,” she said as I slowly drank my water, waking myself up from the drowsiness which still remained. “Your friend—he told me that tangerine helps ease the bitterness on your tongue and might stop you from getting nausea before mealtime. Though he did warn me not to let you eat too much so you can still have your meal.”

“My friend?” I looked up to her, creasing my brows as I tried to think of someone who might have been there while I was sleeping. Hoseok had been absent as he was busy with a case at work while Yoongi was busy on his own projects to deal with. Which only left one other person. “Oh, was Jimin here?”

“Yes, Jimin. That’s his name,” Kara told me while sitting down next to the bed, grabbing the basket of tangerines back onto her lap to finish what she was doing. “He came by just when I got here and passed me these fresh, sweet looking tangerines. Told me that he would usually peel them for you whenever he is here to watch over you while you are sleeping.”

“Oh—”

My cheeks started heating up as if I was a teenage girl getting caught having her first boy crush. Or her first boyfriend. Kara must have caught on to it as she lifted her eyebrows.

“Someone special?”

I looked down, smiling to my lap. “Sort of,” I said. Then I remembered back when I was a teenage girl, when Kara used to sit in the dining room with my mother, sipping tea while they would gossip around on the neighbours and their old high school friends. And I remembered how Kara was the one to tease me when I got home with a boy the first time.

“We’re sort of seeing each other now,” I finally told her. Though judging from the way she was smiling, she could probably tell it was the case already.

Leaning forward, she passed me a plate of peeled tangerines for me to eat and asked me, “Tell me about him.”

And I did.

The next thing I knew, we began talking so normally and easily like we used to so many years ago. Starting from Jimin and how our relationship had grown, the funny stories I have had since I got into the hospital, and reminisced a few memories of my teenage years—skipping all the bad memories and the horrible parts of our past—all while we ate the tangerines Jimin had left behind and I had even managed to eat some soft cookies that Kara had bought for me.

Everything felt so comfortable and I felt so in peace. Everything just felt so right. And suddenly, all the painful memories between us—the fights, the resentment, and the disappointment I felt—seemed like they had never existed.

“What is it?” Kara asked me when she heard me chuckling to myself. Her smile was warm and her eyes were bright as if the sound slipping out of my lips were the most wonderful thing she had ever heard.

“Nothing, it’s just—” I chuckled some more, shaking my head for thinking about this. “It’s just that I’ve been lonely for so long and now suddenly—suddenly, everyone keeps coming back into my life. I’ve been getting the most random visits from the people that I had least expected. It’s just surprising, and funny, to think about. That’s all.”

“People come and go from our lives. It doesn’t mean that it would be impossible to reconnect. Even if it takes years,” she reached out to grab my hand. “Just like us.”

Her eyes grew misty yet again as she pulled back. “And it’s nothing wrong to let people back in once you are ready. No matter how well we are when we are alone, we still need people on our side. People to accompany us as we walk on our path and to lead us to where we need to go.”

I chose not to say anything, though I could hear Jimin’s words echoing inside my head.

“It goes to show that no matter how much you’ve pushed people away, at least some of them would find their way back to you.”

The only question which remained was—had it been too late for me to let my people in?

Kara came back the next day. Visiting me on her own again.

I didn’t think much of it when she came by the day before without my father, knowing how our last encounter had ended up. The last talk I had with my father may have ended with a truce, but it did not necessarily mean that we had reconciled the relationship that was once left broken. He had even stopped calling me on the phone after a while, though the only thing he said to Hoseok was that he had been busy with work.

When I saw Kara sitting there with drowsy eyes, I knew something was wrong. It didn’t take long before she finally confirmed it. All I had to do was told her about what I was going through with the divorce, before she finally admitted that she was going through the same thing. Or, at least, she was considering it.

“You’re divorcing my father?”

Kara’s lips curl down to a thin line. “Nothing official yet. I just—I just have been thinking about leaving him. That it would be best if we separate before things fall apart.”

There was a nagging feeling brewing inside my chest. All because I saw something familiar in the way she talked about him. I saw the same look on my mother when she told me about my father’s affair a long time ago.

“What happened?”

Kara pursed her lips together and looked away. A heavy sigh escaped her just as she began to speak, “At first, things just remained the same. His work always comes first. He still travels a lot for his business, opening shops here and there, attending off-shore meetings, visiting new places—” her voice trailed and her whole body started shaking as she took a deep breath. “I’ve always understood that he has his priorities straight and nothing has ever changed. He’s still the same caring, loving man, always tends to my needs and spends his time with me. Even if he spends just as much time at home as he does staying out.”

She looked at me, and her eyes grew misty. “Then I noticed that lately, he seemed—happier. I had thought it might have been something about you, because he’s been keeping contact with you. He spends time in the kitchen a lot, enjoying his moment there as he tries different recipes every night, cooking for me,” she says with a soft chuckle, and I suddenly picture him there—just like how I had found him the day I went back home to visit, when he cooked us dinner.

“He’s also been spending time at the gym,” she laughed. “Can you believe it? Your Dad, who had never cared about how he would look like, suddenly beginning to care about appearance.”

No, I could never imagine my father being at the gym, keeping his figure as if he was not an ageing parent. I should be laughing with Kara, thinking about him with wonder. But her laugh was bitter and I suddenly knew where this was heading. So I bit my tongue and kept silent.

“I thought he was trying to keep himself looking good so he can make me happy. He’s been joining me on a few gatherings, meeting up with the neighbours, coming with me to meet up with some of our friends,” she sighed. And that was when her mood changed. “But, that’s not the case with your Dad, is it?”

No, it was not. And I still said nothing.

“I went to his office one day before he was supposed to go on his business trip. It was the first time I met his new assistant. His very much younger assistant. Curvy, young, fresh, with thick hair and soft makeup and a coy smile that I knew your Dad would love,” she said with a faraway look in her eyes. “I should’ve seen the signs. I knew that man for years and I still failed to see it. Or maybe I did, but I just refused to see it as it was.”

A sense of bitterness came over me. I could not understand the nature of the rushing emotions that came bubbling up, for I had no idea what to think or feel about the ordeal my stepmother had found herself in. Should I be happy, for karma finally showing itself? Should I feel guilty and shameful for even thinking that way? Or should I feel sad for her?

“Did you think that you could change him?”

Kara shrugged, looking defeated. “I honestly don’t know what to believe. Maybe I was too naive,” she sighed. “I’ve never told you this, but I still blame myself for the pain we caused to your mother. Yet I stayed and I kept telling myself that he still needed me. I kept making myself believe that your mother never knew about what was going on between us. But after your visit, you opened my eyes and I knew that I had only been lying to myself. I should’ve also reminded myself what kind of man he is, but—”

Even after years of not seeing my own father, there was no possible way I could forget who he was and what kind of man he was.

Jungkook may have his reasons to hurt me. No matter how much I tried to deny it, I knew that he had his own reason on why he kept making terrible mistakes after another and why he had tormented me in the end, all because I knew his flaws. And it was the reason why I had always try to be the better and stronger person to give him a chance whenever he promised to do what was right until he could no longer keep his own words.

But that was never the case with my father.

The reason why he cheated was simply that. He was just a cheater who did so only because he could.

“So what now? What are you going to do now if you’re not coming home to Dad?”

“I went back to live with my parents,” she said, suddenly looking brighter now that she was talking about her plans. “And I’ll be renting a place downtown so I can be with you.”

Shaking my head, I refused to take her offer. I had witnessed what my mother had to go through and I knew how I felt with what was going on with me now to know better than to let her focus on me instead of getting her life back together. “You should focus on yourself. You don’t have to—” I stopped, pondering my next words a little before I voiced out my doubts. “If you’re here to help me because you are looking for redemption, then—”

“No, that is not what I’m looking for,” she sternly said, pointing her finger at me the way she used to whenever she had to chastise me in place of my mother. “I’m here because I want to. Even before I married your father, I had already looked at you as if you were my own daughter. I had already loved you then, and it had never changed no matter what had happened between us.”

Great. I was not expecting to be the one choking out with emotions after what she had spilled on me, but I did. Once again, I was reminded of the good old days, back when she was just coming to our house to spend time with my mother while my father was away on his trips and meddled with my teenage crushes because I could not talk about it with my parents. Back then, she was my Mom’s best friend who acted more like my favourite aunt and an older sister instead of the woman who had stolen my father away from us.

“I’ve lost so many years of knowing you, of being with you. I refuse to lose any more of it,” she said, this time choking with the same sobbing emotion as the one brimming inside me.

“What if I don’t get better, then what—”

She pressed a finger to my lips, shutting me up. Though her stern attitude was nothing compared to the look she was giving me through her gaze. She was not only looking at me with pain in her eyes. There was something else there when she looked at me. A look that she had been trying to conceal by forcing herself to be hopeful and full of joy.

It was fear.

Fear that I could feel rushing out of her when she spoke with her voice shaking emotionally, “I will take whatever I can get as long as I am here with you. You hear me? I’m not walking away from you and leave you be when you need help. Never again.”

It was happening again.

The highs and lows of my life just kept on coming to me like strong waves taking over the ocean.

Just when I felt things were going great, when I felt hopeful enough to make future plans, things instantly fell short to make sure it would never happen.

I was supposed to be getting better.

I was supposed to be planning my life ahead, of trying to find a place for both Jimin and me to try and continue to live like regular people. We were supposed to be on our way to find houses with big yards and white picket fences for both of us, looking through pictures of dogs or cats in the animal shelters for us to adopt.

Instead, here I was, waking up with more pain. At the end of the week, instead of feeling better and proving to the doctor that I would be able to live independently, I had only gotten worse, much worse, and I finally woke up at my lowest point one morning that I dreaded ever waking up at all.

“Tell me how you’re feeling,” Kara asked me when she found me curling on the bed. With tears flowing out as my body temperature was high with a fever.

“I’m fine,” I whispered, closing my eyes when the lies burned my tongue. Though I knew it was not the words I said which was hurting me. It was my own body, falling apart to the demon that had been eating me up inside.

“The doctor said he will come back with the test results and update us about what is going on,” Kara said as she passed the lunch tray. I could tell how hard she was trying to stay calm, but her own hands betrayed her when they kept shaking while she was preparing for my meal. “In the meantime, try to eat a little.”

“I can’t,” I told her, closing my eyes when talking alone felt too painful for me to do.

I tried to wet my lips, but it would do nothing to lessen the dryness and the patches on my drying lips. I tried putting on chapsticks and had even tried to put on the various types of lip balms that Kara had bought me. Nothing. I also had blisters inside my mouth which made it hard for me to eat anything.

“I remember when your mother had that too. I think soft pudding and soft ice cream helped her a lot back then. That’s why I figured I should get some for you so you could at least have some snacks,” Kara said as she pulled a few snacks out of the grocery bag that she had brought with her today.

My stomach was churning with both nausea and hunger, but I snatched the pudding anyway and forced myself to eat.

“Well?”

Swallowing slowly, I nodded timidly. “As long as I don’t have to chew, I might be okay,” I said with relief as I gobbled a few scoops of the pudding without a problem, though only seconds after the final word was out, I instantly winced in pain.

“The doctor better be here quick before I drag him down here myself,” Kara hissed, clenching her hands before she helped me open another container of the sweet pudding she bought me while I kept quiet.

We were scheduled to see the doctor today, but not for the reason of finding out what was wrong with me. We were supposed to talk about our plans for getting me out of here. After I had told Kara about what Jimin and I had planned, she had taken it upon herself to meet the doctor and requested that he would consider it, while also offered to take up the role as my guardian and caretaker if the hospital was willing to approve my release and make me take all the treatments as an outpatient like I used to.

With what had been going on since I woke up this morning, I already knew that we would be talking about all the different things and that I would not be getting all the answers I wanted.

Two containers of soft pudding and a small cup-sized of soft ice cream later, a nurse in her blue scrub came into the room and prepared me to take a trip downstairs. There was nothing much she could say when I asked her about it, only that the doctor needed me to take a quick visit down the lab before meeting him, and that he had something urgent to say to me after I had some blood work done.

All the way down to the doctors’ lobby with the nurse and Kara at my side, I had instantly felt it.

The dream of having a normal life shattering the closer I was to meet Dr. Kim. No more hopes for having a house with a beautiful white picket fence around it, no more hopes of building a peaceful life with Jimin.

I was sure of it even without the doctors confirming it for me beforehand when I could already feel it. After continuous chemotherapy and radiation, the strength and positive outcome that I was feeling slowly became null. I was feeling the pain again, I had no progress against the increasing pain and drowsiness I was feeling, and after a few days of finally being able to move freely on my own without anyone else’s assistance, I was suddenly becoming immobilised.

Pretty sure it was for that reason Dr. Kim had invited me to visit him in his office instead of having him come to my room as usual. There had been many changes happening already to make me feel cautious and tense. Like how today’s drug treatment was cancelled and how the schedule for my radiation—which was supposed to happen right before I was being released—was moved to an undefined future date.

The minute I sat right across from the doctor right in front of his desk, I already knew that he had come here bearing unpleasant news before he even said anything.

I could tell by the way he entered the room without even looking my way, and also from the quick exchange of glance he made with Kara as he was taking his seat behind his desk. And then there was the sigh which escaped his lips when he looked down on his notes. The deep sigh which he would always make each time he knew he was about to disappoint someone with what he was about to say. He even wore the grim look on his face, one which had his brows furrowing so deeply it made him look extremely tired and older than he actually was.

At least he had his white hospital coat disposed of before he sat down, giving me a leeway to treat him like a friend. Just the way he wanted me to.

Except that he had yet to raise his face to look at me. He still had his eyes down as he flipped through the folder on his desk, my full name imprinted on its front cover and right on the top of the papers which looked similar to my previous test results.

“Lay it on me, Doc. What’s the verdict?”

Dr. Kim lifted his face and smiled. “It’s Seokjin, remember? I’m off-duty the minute that coat is off,” he said, pointing at the coat hanged right at his door with his thumb as he winked playfully. For a moment there, the tension in the room lessened with his cheekiness. Only briefly, and then it fell back in place when his cheeky smile turned into his signature regretful one.

His silence made me wonder if he was planning to take it easy, going on a round route of giving me nice words and some positive news to distract me from the negative ones. But he knew me well enough at this point to know that it would never work on me. Enough to know that I would prefer for him to be honest instead of giving me false hopes.

“Alright—” he started, sighing once more as he straightened himself on his seat, bracing himself for what he was about to say. “I know that I had promised to keep you updated with your progress and see if we could get you out of here. You know how much I hate to do this, but I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

Raising my brows, I could only guess what this meeting was all about and what the doctor was trying to tell me. “You’re denying my request of getting released from the hospital.”

“I’m so sorry about this, and it’s not that the hospital is completely denying to let you continue as an outpatient, which I believe you could, or that I don’t trust you to nurse ______,” he said, glancing at Kara on this part before he turned back to look at me. “I do trust your family to keep an eye on you while you are out there. It’s just that this is going to have to wait.”

“How so?”

“A new progress has occurred after our last test and with your current condition, it seems impossible to let you go before giving you another treatment.”

“Just one treatment?” I asked him while trying to figure out what he might be planning for me.

Seokjin nodded solemnly. “Just as predicted, the cancer has stopped responding to your treatments. The chemo did well at first, and your body reacted the way it should until it didn’t, even with the new drug we have added in the mix. The cancer seems to be fighting back, and we’re beginning to worry that the radiation will not be able to keep up with how fast it is growing.”

Kara reached for my hand and clenched tightly. “So, what’s our option?” she asked the doctor. Her presence comforted me, but I could not deny that I was wishing to have my brother here with me to hear this news with us instead of having to wait until I could break it down to him later.

“Your first option would be to go through radiation if only we could get it sooner than we had it planned. The X-ray photos we took from you after the last radiation showed great results, but we can’t do it simultaneously, and the pain you have been experiencing only indicates that the mass seems to keep on growing during the spare time we have between treatments. So we’ve been talking about placing you in surgery,” he said, as if he had it all figured out.

“After looking through your family history and your mother’s case, we have found that you share the same T-cells as your mother, and it seems that the cancer is building up around it the same way it did with your mother. If I’m right, it will resume to progress the way it did with your mother. The only way I can give you clearance is if we go ahead with the surgery and see if we can take it out before it gets any worse. But—” Seokjin stopped for a moment, having quite a hard time to choose his words. “—with the size of the mass growth we have now and where it is situated, the risk would be too high.”

Kara’s grip on my hand tightened, and I could have never been more grateful to have her there so she could keep me grounded. The new information was making my head spin.

“Your body is still recovering from the vigorous chemotherapy treatments you have been put through so we’re supposed to wait until you are ready to get you to another drug treatment or the upcoming radiation. But like I said, it’s a race against time. The cancer is getting aggressive and if we don’t move fast to remove it, it might progress further into the next level of its metastasis. It could either spread into a wider area, or—it would strike you at your fatal points.”

I knew that he was trying to tell me everything there was to know about my disease. But I hated the fact that he sounded like he was trying to persuade me into agreeing and let him cut me open to get this thing out of my body. And I hated that he made it seem like I had no other option.

“How—how bad would the spreading be?” I heard Kara taking over the conversation while I was mulling over the new fact that I was still having a hard time processing.

Seokjin kept his eyes on me for a moment, like he knew I was having trouble making a decision. Then he looked at Kara, sounding calm and collected when he said, “Looking at where it is located now, the metastasis could head straight into the lungs, and there is always a risk of having it reaching the brain area.”

Just like my mother, I suddenly wondered with a shudder as I recalled the day she fell into a coma when the mass inside her body progressed so rapidly, as if it had taken a turn overnight and bypassed her radiation when it began building around the soft tissues in her body. Her lungs taking the hardest blow before her brain seized to function.

“The only thing that I must warn you about is that through the surgery, the doctors tend to be aggressive upon removing this type of cancer.”

A high-risk surgery. So that was the reason why he had chosen to have this talk in his private area, instead of in the open space of my room.

“What are my odds of getting through it completely intact?”

“40 to 60 percent of survival, give or take,” he said, though it was clear to me that he was trying so hard not to make empty promises when he was not entirely sure about it.

“So basically, what you’re saying is that I’ll either die of this cancer or die in the hands of the people trying to save me?” I was practically shaking so hard after listening to everything he had to say and my heartbeat was racing so hard I could barely breathe.

How my voice came out so calm and steady at this point was beyond me.

“You could put it that way,” he shrugged, though it was obvious that he hated having to tell me all of this. For not being able to give me something positive to hold on to. “But it would be no better than to wait until the chemotherapy and radiation could finally work against it. If you choose to remain with the therapy and medications you are currently in, we can still try to intensify or add the dose on the next radiation to help you heal slowly, use it to reduce the pain until we get through the next one. But we have no clue how much time the mass will stay dormant this time before it resumes its growth.”

At this point, it really did seem like I had no other choice. It was either to take that risk so I could have a chance to have some extra time in life, or fall back and let fate decide what to do with my life.

I recalled having him offering me to have the radiation to cut down the nerves which allowed me to stop feeling any pain so I could get through the treatments more smoothly. But I had refused to do it long ago as it would be like deceiving myself and making me forget that I was going through this.

I could not decide. I felt so lost and afraid. Afraid of making the wrong choices when my own life, my own future, was at risk.

“If you were the one to make the choice, what would you say would be the better option for me to take?”

Seokjin kept his eyes on me when he spoke, as if he was trying to talk me down into giving in. “If it was up to me, then I say we remove it. It’s a high risk, but we are on a race against time and we have to move quickly if we want to get a step ahead.”

“Will you be alright on your own?”

Kara tightened her coat on while watching me closely. The nighttime had fallen and she had to return home.

She had a clearance to stay the night as my guardian, but she knew that I would want to spend some time with Jimin—even if she never knew how often Jimin would spend the night in my bed at night—while she would try to find a way to talk to my brother and update him with everything that we had just found out today.

“I’ll be fine,” I told her, forcing a smile so I could convince her the best I could. “Jimin would probably come to visit me before bedtime anyway to keep me company. Even if he’s not coming, I’m tired enough to fall asleep anytime soon.”

The lie felt bitter on my tongue, but I was glad that Kara never caught on to it.

“Okay, but keep your phone close and in hands reach so we can stay in contact. I’ll be here before noon tomorrow,” she said, before kissing my cheek one last time and walked out the door.

The room fell silent right after. It was not long until the nurses came in for the last round of the night and the lights were turned off, but I could not find sleep coming to me soon enough. Hours passed and my mind was still moving a mile a minute, pondering over the things that we had talked about earlier today.

The night continued to linger, and I began to notice that there was no sign of Jimin coming into my room.

I waited until an hour passed. Then another hour. Still no sign of him.

I had no idea what came over me. Perhaps the need to find someone to talk to had made me feel impatient and restless. Perhaps the stress was compelling me to step out of the room when it was suddenly starting to make me feel claustrophobic.

Though I could also say that I was probably just missing him so badly, since I have gotten used to sleeping in his arms.

Before I knew it, I was pushing myself off the bed. There was no infusion bag attached to me and no IV pole to hold me back, so I had thought I would have no problem moving on my own without help or a wheelchair. But it surely didn’t take long for me to realise how wrong I was.

The pain began to build up when I was only halfway out on my journey. My breath was getting heavy and my chest was growing tight. I only told myself that I was doing okay and that it was only nerves getting to me for the reasons why I was out there making my way to him.

I hated to be the bearer of bad news, to crush all hopes of us living happily together and forgetting about our battles right here inside these walls. Yet I held on to hopes that perhaps facing the truth together would be able to help us to cope, to make us feel stronger against whatever coming in the way of our happiness.

That thought alone was the only thing that kept me going, no matter how badly my body was begging me to stop.

The hallways were dark and deserted at night. I could always hear it when the nurses or security guards were walking around the hall so I was half expecting to be found before I managed to get to him. But there was no one stopping me as I continued walking, holding onto the handrails attached to the walls as I made my way towards the other wing where Jimin’s room is located.

It took me a long time to get there. Though it wasn’t exactly an easy trip to go through either.

But after having my nightdress soaked with sweat, my back aching and my legs shaking as I kept holding myself up and forcing my way, my chest growing tight as I was running out of air even when I was taking my time and moving so slow from one hallway to another, I was finally standing right in front of Jimin’s room.

The door was closed shut, so I had thought that he might have fallen asleep.

He was not supposed to be having his treatment yet, which was why I was not expecting to find him resting so early. But it did stop me from barging in, afraid that I might wake him up and intrude his much-needed rest.

Then I heard his voice, coughing so hard from inside the room. The coughs sounded wet and heavy, and unlike the sounds that I have heard him making when it happened to him before, so I couldn’t wait any longer and gently pushed the door. Just as I stepped inside, calling his name softly, I saw him hunching over on the bed, still in his coughing fit.

His face was pale when he looked up to me, his eyes were red with tears. But it was the stain on his clothes and sheets which had me gasping and nearly stumble crying, because all I saw was blood, dripping from his lips and coming out on each cough escaping him.

“_______,” Jimin choked out my name when he saw me, coughing out blood a few more times and gasping for breath, before he fell unconscious over the bed.

“Jimin!”

—  © 2020 Yoonia, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind is not allowed. translations are not allowed.

[alixanonymous]

How A Demon Commissions An Angel ~ A Daminette FanFic ~ Chapter 9: An Opening For Options

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: Sent you an email for Jason’s jacket. Had an idea I think you might like.

Mr. Postscript: I see popular culture references strike again.

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: Is that a problem? 

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: Cause I’m not even sure “Hit me with your best shot” would be considered a pop culture reference. I mean isn’t that song from like the 80’s?

Mr. Postscript: 1979 but I think it has less to do with when the source material was released and more with how often the reference is used in modern times, which in this case would be much too frequently.

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: Did google help you come to that conclusion?

Mr. Postscript: … 

Mr. Postscript: All online research must begin with the use of a search engine.

Mr. Postscript: At least I don’t use Wikipedia as a resource.

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: Everyone uses Wikipedia.

Mr. Postscript: Clearly not everyone. 

Mr. Postscript: … 

Mr. Postscript: Do you?

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: Of course! I even donate to them every now and then!

Mr. Postscript: I see. 

Mr. Postscript: I’m beginning to reconsider our friendship. 

Mr. Postscript: I just don’t know if I can forgive this egregious offense.

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: Really, Mr. Drama Queen? My friends and their interrogations won’t scare you off but my support of the largest archive of free information will?

Mr. Postscript: Your friends were perfectly in their rights to see if I was worthy of your friendship.

Mr. Postscript: I believe I passed the test.

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: You were great Damian! Honestly, thank you for putting up with them. Maybe you’re not as bad with people as you think.

Mr. Postscript: Yes, well it does help if they are more than three thousand miles away.

Mr. Postscript: There’s also the fact that I’ve admired Ms. Tsurgi’s fencing style for a while now which may have something to do with it. I’ve been following her career for years. 

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: … 

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: Damian, how do you know who she is? We never told you her last name.

Mr. Postscript: Right… 

Mr. Postscript: It may have come up in my initial search for your identity.

Mr. Postscript: I don’t imagine there are many girls your age named Kagami who know how to fence, live in Paris, and have close ties to your class.

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: Okay, that explains that.

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: I mean it’s still pretty creepy mind you but I went into this friendship knowing how it started.

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: I guess it’s just weird to think that you know so much about me and I still know so little about you, not even your last name.

Mr. Postscript: You know more about me than anyone besides my family, angel. I wouldn’t want you knowing my last name to make you think differently.

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: Because you’re famous?

Mr. Postscript: In a way, yes. 

Mr. Postscript: You could probably find out who I was if you wanted, you have enough information to work with but I wish you wouldn’t. 

Mr. Postscript: I don’t think you’d like what you’d find.

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: Trust me, I know better than anyone that people sometimes only see what they want to. A little bad publicity won’t make me think differently of you. 

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: Besides, I already told your brother, Damian. You get to decide what you tell me and when.

Mr. Postscript: I should’ve given you the same choice. If I’d known the kind of person you were beforehand, I would’ve.

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: That’s the thing, you can’t know who people are before you get to know them. 

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: You have to give people a chance, Dami.

Mr. Postscript: What if they end up being like Ms. Rossi?

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: If we constantly think the worst of people, we’ll end up like Lila, calculating and manipulative.

Mr. Postscript: I suppose I see why you might think that. 

Mr. Postscript: You know… 

Mr. Postscript: If my family ever finds out how we met, I’d hate to have to deal with their disappointment. I think Todd already wants to adopt you. 

Mr. Postscript: Be on alert for another phone theft.

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: Well, they may never know. After all, they’ll get these amazing gifts for Christmas that will obviously show a lot of thought and consideration. 

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: They’ll never suspect we had a rocky start.

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: But back to the subject of amazing gifts, do you like the wording? Is it not his style?

Mr. Postscript: Oh, Todd will love having that across his back.

Mr. Postscript: I just have a question about the “o” in shot. It’s supposed to be a target right?

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: Yes! Well sorta?

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: I want to make it look like a poker chip with a target on it.

Mr. Postscript: Oh. I can see that. Why a poker chip? I don’t recall it coming up in our earlier discussion.

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: I mean it did in a way.

Mr. Postscript: Oh? How so?

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: The poker chip would be stitched on the back of his right shoulder meaning he’d have a chip on his shoulder.

Mr. Postscript: … 

Mr. Postscript: I approve the design. The double meaning in your designs will be incredibly entertaining for me every time I see my brothers wearing them.

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: Well, like I said. Subtle details are my specialty. But I don’t recall any double meaning in Grayson’s design.

Mr. Postscript: Right. 

Mr. Postscript: I stand corrected. I simply meant there are a lot of subtle details. 

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: Okay! That reminds me! I’ve started Grayson’s sweater.

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: Just sent a progress update to your email.

Mr. Postscript: It’s looking exactly like your drawing. I approve the choice of yarn; the colors are appropriately vibrant.

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: Great!

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: So what were you thinking for Drake’s sweater?

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: I think I remember you mentioned a drawstring hood.

Mr. Postscript: I did, yes. However, I’ve been rethinking that idea.

Mr. Postscript: I can picture my family accusing me of trying to suffocate Drake.

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: … 

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: Well, we wouldn’t want that!

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: You know maybe the “hit me with your best shot” thing wasn’t the best idea either.

Mr. Postscript: It’s not that concerning with Todd. I’m sure he’ll just love that across his back. Drake and I have a more complicated history.

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: Didn’t you say your inside jokes with Jason were your attempts on each other’s lives? 

Mr. Postscript: Yes but it’s Jason. He antagonizes everyone.

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: Got it. But Drake’s different?

Mr. Postscript: Yes. Everyone loves Drake. Well, except for Todd but we’ve established that Todd hates everyone.

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: So why are things complicated between you too?

Mr. Postscript: Correction: Two

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: … 

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: You know what? Okay. I stand corrected. Question still applies.

Mr. Postscript: I may have treated him poorly when I first joined the family. He was the most recent addition to my father’s collection of orphan children and I may have tried to claim his place in the family by forcibly removing him from it.

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: I see. So you felt threatened by his presence and handled it poorly?

Mr. Postscript: I would say that is a drastic yet not wholly inaccurate interpretation. 

Mr. Postscript: However, I’ve since realized that my initial concerns were unnecessary. Drake is a threat to no one but himself.

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: But your family still holds it against you? They still think you might actually hurt him?

Mr. Postscript: Well, I was a bit extreme and while I no longer harbor the same intentions, no one could accuse us of being particularly warm.

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: I see. 

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: Have you tried apologizing?

Mr. Postscript: You mean sincerely and not because father ordered me to?

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: Yes. 

Mr. Postscript: Then no.

Mr. Postscript: However, before you begin what would surely be a fruitless campaign to get me to change that… 

Mr. Postscript: Might I remind you my family isn’t big on addressing our feelings? I believe Todd’s tried to hurt Drake before too and I highly doubt he ever issued an apology yet they seem to be on good terms again.

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: Right. 

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: Well, as your resident people skills instructor, I think I’m supposed to give you some kind of advice like two wrongs not making a right but frankly I’ve begun to realize that is utter bullshit, pardon my english. So I can understand why an apology would not be on the table.

Mr. Postscript: I’ve never understood that saying and I’m glad that I will not have to hear it from you. 

Mr. Postscript: Do not mistake me, I understand the sentiment in a way however, I’ve always felt it to be too general and way too easy to use in a non-applicable, negative context.

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: Good to know where on the same page there.

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: Damian, I don’t mean to pry but can I ask you a question?

Mr. Postscript: You may ask and I may answer.

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: Do you feel like your family holds you to a higher standard?

Mr. Postscript: … 

Mr. Postscript: I don’t know if I’d call it a higher standard. 

Mr. Postscript: … 

Mr. Postscript: I simply have more to catch up on. I started with less knowledge of some basic things than the rest of my brothers. However, I wouldn’t say I’m treated differently in any case. You should see Todd and father argue sometime. 

Mr. Postscript: I just hate feeling behind. I’m used to being the best, the favorite like I was when I lived with my mother. So failing like I have recently has been frustrating, especially with what’s now on the line.

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: You mean the threat of moving?

Mr. Postscript: I wouldn’t call it a threat. I actually feel like I should mention that the place he wants to send me to is actually somewhere all my brothers have attended so it’s not like I’d be the first to go there in any case.

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: Oh, so it’s like a family tradition?

Mr. Postscript: I suppose you could say that.

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: So would going really be that bad?

Mr. Postscript: Honestly?

Mr. Postscript: In theory, it wouldn’t be the end of the world or anything. In actuality? I can’t imagine it would be pleasant.

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: Okay. If there’s one thing that makes you not want to go, what would it be?

Mr. Postscript: Is it not self-explanatory? Why would I want to start over again and lose all I’ve earned since coming here? I spent ten years of my life without my family, is it a crime to not want to waste any more?

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: Okay, I would say that does sound rather awful to put it lightly but would it really be like that? I mean it’s not like you’re going off to war or anything, right? You’d still talk regularly and video chat and stuff?

Mr. Postscript: I’m sure we would, angel, but they’d still be here, all together and I’d be miles away, with only people I’d have no clue how to interact with for company.

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: Right.

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: Are you worried about feeling like an outsider again?

Mr. Postscript: No. 

Mr. Postscript: Not quite… 

Mr. Postscript: I’m more worried about feeling like a failure. Nothing is more shameful than being a disappointment. Especially when I have three brothers who aren’t even related to contend with that seem to be doing him proud. 

Mr. Postscript: Except for Todd but he’s turned disappointing father into its own type of game and at which he’s winning.

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: Aren’t your brothers older than you? And haven’t they been with your dad longer? Surely it doesn’t make sense to compare yourself to them?

Mr. Postscript: Please!

Mr. Postscript: When Drake was my age, father was already training him to take over the family business. 

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: Damian, in any case it’s not a competition, right? You’re not competing with them for your father’s regard.

Mr. Postscript: Maybe that’s so. I still feel like I’m losing and I hate that.

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: Yeah, I imagine you would.

Mr. Postscript: How helpful. 

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: I mean, you’re always allowed to feel how you do.

Mr. Postscript: Thank you for the permission. I do so appreciate it.

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: Okay, Mr. Sarcasm, do you really want to know what I think?

Mr. Postscript: … 

Mr. Postscript: Go on.

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: Okay, you might not want to hear this and of course this is just my opinion but it seems to me like you have really high expectations to meet, maybe they’re other people’s or maybe their your own. Whether or not you actually have to contend with your brother’s achievements, you obviously feel like you do and I can see how that would be hard to turn off. So maybe some distance from the situation would be a good thing?

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: I know that having to meet new people especially when socializing isn’t your strong suit sounds daunting but I kinda feel like you’re selling yourself short. Sure, you’ve had trouble in the past but you’ve made progress right? Moving to a new place doesn’t erase any of that. I get that the first time you had to start over was hard but now you’re older and wiser and have family to support you and a wonderful friend/moral compass to help you (aka me). Plus, I don’t know, it just feels like you’re really focused on doing what you think people expect of you and not what you really want for yourself. I don’t know, maybe some time away from expectations and legacies might give you some perspective. 

Mr. Postscript: … 

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: … 

Mr. Postscript: Withdrawing now, giving up and moving on, wouldn’t that be like quitting? Is quitting not another form of losing?

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: If you’re looking at it like that, I’d ask yourself this: Is winning worth it if you hate the game you’re playing?

Mr. Postscript: … 

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: … 

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: So, totally overstepped there, didn’t I? Sorry!

Mr. Postscript: No need to apologize.

Mr. Postscript: I’m just not sure how I feel right now.

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: That’s okay! I’m not trying to force you to make any big decisions right now or anything. If you just want some time to think, that’s cool. Whatever you end up doing, you deserve to have a choice in it so let’s come up with something for Drake’s sweater so your dad doesn’t force your hand okay?

Mr. Postscript: Okay.

Mr. Postscript: Marinette?

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: Yes?

Mr. Postscript: Thank you. 

Mr. Postscript: Everything you’ve done and said so far has shown a level of care for me I’ve done nothing to deserve and I know you’re always just trying to help me and I'm very grateful. I just want you to know I will do my best to be as good a friend to you too.

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: I know, Damian. You may have your faults (we all do) but loyalty is not one of them. 

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: For whatever it’s worth, I think your family also wants what’s best for you like I do. It just has to be up to you to decide what that is.

Mr. Postscript: Right.

Mr. Postscript: Well for starters, I think it would be best for me to avoid being accused of attempting to suffocate Drake.

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: Yeah, I agree.

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: So would you want just a regular sweater for him then? Or I could make a drawstring hood that doesn’t close completely? I could make it so there’s always a gap left to breathe through.

Mr. Postscript: I like that last idea best. 

Mr. Postscript: My original vision was that Drake could easily shut out the world and fall asleep in it so we don’t have to deal with his insomniac coffee zombie antics all the time.

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: I want my business card to have “insomniac coffee zombie” on it.

Mr. Postscript: I highly doubt you’d get a lot of business that way. It’s a poor marketing strategy. It comes off as unprofessional.

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: Please, my clients are normally the reason I pull all nighters. I would give it credit for illustrating my dedication to my craft.

Mr. Postscript: Don’t get me started on Drake’s work ethic. 

Mr. Postscript: The thought that you and Drake might actually have a lot in common is quite unsettling. 

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: Really, anything else we share besides a coffee addiction and ambition?

Mr. Postscript: Well, you both are child prodigies in a way. For all our differences, I can’t deny Drake has done much for father’s company at a young age and you have created a whole brand for yourself at only sixteen.

Mr. Postscript: I’d never thought about the logistics of balancing schoolwork and commissions. Is it difficult?

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: I mean, yes and no. There have been times when I stretched myself too thin and paid the price in sleepless nights. But that’s the perks on being your own boss I guess. I just learned to pace the commissions and be selective with my clientele. It’s worked pretty good so far.

Mr. Postscript: That’s a relief to hear. However I hope my order didn’t come in a bad time. Did you already have a lot on your plate?

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: Nah, I usually keep the holiday season light so I have time to make Christmas gifts. Although, I suppose that’s not as much of a concern this year.

Mr. Postscript: Oh?

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: Quite a few classmates have been crossed from the Christmas list this year.

Mr. Postscript: I see.

Mr. Postscript: I don’t know whether I feel happy or upset for you.

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: Ha! Me neither.

Mr. Postscript: I suppose it is both then. I am happy that you are standing up for yourself but upset that they have forced you to.

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: Thanks Damian. I can’t help but feel a bit like I’m being petty.

Mr. Postscript: Petty is a word people use when they hold you to a higher standard than themselves.

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: Now I want to put that on a t-shirt!

Mr. Postscript: Hm. I would order one.

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: Really? You’d match shirts with me?

Mr. Postscript: Well, no. I wouldn’t wear it around you per se, I don’t think I’d pull it off as well. However, I’d happily parade it in front of my brothers.

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: You know what I’ll take it.

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: Shelving that design for now, let’s get back to Drake’s sweater. So I got a general sense of his taste from the pictures you sent me although I already see I’ll have to take some liberties when it comes to fabric because these pieces don’t look like they were made particularly for comfort and that’s a priority here right?

Mr. Postscript: Yes. I trust your judgement when it comes to fabric.

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: Great! All that’s left is the design and for once I actually have an idea right off the back.

Mr. Postscript: Is that so? Consider me impressed.

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: Well, it all hinges on Drake being as big of a coffee lover as you make him out to be.

Mr. Postscript: Trust me angel, coffee addict is literally Drake’s personality. I don’t know how that’s possible but he managed it. 

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: Okay. It’s time then. 

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: I’ve had this idea in the back of my mind for a while now and I’ve never taken the time to fully develop it but if I pull it off it may well be the greatest piece I ever produce.

Mr. Postscript: And of course, it goes to Drake. He’ll never let that go.

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: I’d hope not. He should feel honored to be the recipient. T.G.Y.T.T.B.: However, I’ll need two things from you to make this work.

Mr. Postscript: Well?

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: I’ll need you to take a picture of your brother’s coffee, after he’s poured and added whatever he adds (although if he’s truly a coffee addict that won’t be much). 

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: It is CRUCIAL that you make sure to show me the exact shade he drinks, understand?

Mr. Postscript: Now you’re even starting to sound like him when he’s in a coffee-crazed state.

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: Do. You. Understand?

Mr. Postscript: Yes. I can do that. What else?

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: Right, I’m gonna need you to trust me on this, okay? The design is going to be so much more than meets the eye so I’m not going to show you any drawing or photos before you get it in the mail, okay? T.G.Y.T.T.B.: I know that’s kind of a lot to ask but I think you’ll understand why in the end.

Mr. Postscript: … 

Mr. Postscript: I’m not going to pretend any of this isn’t ridiculously strange but since you obviously know what you’re doing and Drake actually loves a good mystery, I’ll allow it. Use your idea.

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: Yay! You won’t regret it!

Mr. Postscript: So is that all you need?

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: Yup, Grayson’s sweater is already started, I’ll go shopping for the materials for Jason’s jacket tomorrow, and Drake’s can be started as soon as I get that picture of the coffee.

Mr. Postscript: That won’t take long. I should have it to you by tomorrow at the latest.

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: Great!

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: Um, Damian. I really have to go. There’s an akuma.

Mr. Postscript: Yes. I got an alert. I signed up for them when you mentioned the situation. Is it close? T.G.Y.T.T.B.: it will be ill text you tomorrow okay?

Mr. Postscript: Yes. Be safe.

T.G.Y.T.T.B.: thx bye1

From:DoWhatISay@email.com

To:Marinette.D.C.@email.com

Date:November 10, 2021 7:00 P.M.

Subject: (No Subject)

Postscript: I would like you to know that I found your use of the phrase “Pardon my English” after swearing to be the pinnacle of comedy and would like to request permission to use this myself someday? - Damian 

From:Marinette.D.C.@email.com

To:DoWhatISay@email.com

Date:November 11, 2021  7:30 A.M.

Subject: RE: (No Subject)

P.S. Permission granted. :)

   - Marinette

Hello Tumblr! It’s been a while, sorry for that. Life has been a rollercoaster these last few weeks and unfortunately not the kind that only goes up my friends. On to better news however, this chapter being posted means Tumblr is finally caught up to where the story is at on AO3. Even better, chapter ten is mostly finished. Everything is written and now I just have to go over and edit it one last time. I do plan on posting it today which feels so weird to say because writing this chapter was so different than my usual experience. It totally breaks my usual chapter structure and I feel like I wrote it at a snail’s pace. Here’s hoping it will have been worth the wait! I’ll see you again soon but as always AO3 will be updated first! <3

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