#retrospect even from the more /progressive/ or whatever parts of fandom

[rotzaprachim]

anyway i deleted my about after some reflection on several posts. i’ll always keep my age up but for internet safety reasons would actually like to think critically about the information available to me online, just as i highly, highly encourage my younger followers to do, as while i see some of the utility of the carrd/info card culture currently at play i think there are also some significant internet safety risks especially for other minority kids/kids of color/lgbt+ kids. a lot of info is already available about me and available to people who just like. ask. 

[beevean]

Sonic and speed: are we misunderstanding them?

This article was originally written in Spanish by @latin-dr-robotnik​ on his blog - you can read it here!

Today on SHP, I’d like to bring attention to a topic that I keep noticing being discussed everywhere (especially now during quarantine), and that somehow worries me: are we misunderstanding Sonic and his characteristic speed?

During these last few weeks there has been a new, relatively unusual explosion of videos and comments on the Internet regarding Sonic and, relevant for today, what is the best game or the best level. The simplest reason has to be the lockdown we’re going through, and which is leaving us with more time to play or think about those games we want to play, or never will. On the other hand, the most cynical side of me believes that this boom of Sonic-related content is because Game Apologist’s video about S3&K and Sonic in general was so popular, it sparked the “interest” of other creators (the video itself is great, and I elaborated my opinions on it here). Whatever the case, there is a greater discussion about Sonic going on right now, and I feel like it’s not directed where it should be.

Before starting: there are a bunch of videos that helped me shape a good part of the opinions I’m going to explain today. You don’t need to watch all of them, and they’re not mandatory to fully understand this article, but if after reading it you’re left wanting for more, or you’d like to hear different options, I’d recommend you watch these:

1.     Sonic and Speed (Errant Signal)

2.     The First Levels of Sonic Games (Super Bunnyhop)

3.     SONIC the HEDGEHOG: How Level Design Can Break a Game (Broken Base Gaming)

4.     How Sonic Mania Makes a Level (RelaxAlax)

5.     City Escape is Peak Sonic Game Design (ZoomZike)

6.     Lost Valley Is Not Peak Sonic Game Design (ZoomZike)

What is the problem?

In a series as big and ever-changing as Sonic’s, there is a wide repertory of formulas and possible answers to the question “how to design a game?”. In some cases we’re still looking for an answer, in others we’re looking for alternatives (I talked not too long ago about the accessibility of Sonic Mania and 2D Sonic in general – Spanish only!), and most of the time, the answer has already been given in the past.

This looking for answers in the past has taken us in many directions, like constantly looking back to Sonic Adventure to solve the great enigma that is 3D Sonic; but I’d add that the recent retrospectives about Sonic and its first 2D games have raised some criticism and questions that, while valid, end up muddling a formula that has proven itself to be effective and crucial in the design of everything related to Sonic.

What really worried me is the criticism about Sonic’s speed and the levels that are considered “slow”, and we’re going to delve into this.

The basic Principles of Sonic

Speed. Platforming. Exploration. These are Sonic’s basic Principles and have always been, from its beginning until today. These three concepts are at the core of not just the level design, but the games themselves as well. The best levels in the series know how to balance these aspects, and the best games are those that can keep a balanced flow, preventing the game from going too fast, and losing its exciting component along the way, or from going too slow and becoming boring, causing the player to lose interest. Naturally, in these games there have to be all sorts  of levels: faster, more relaxed, more open and more labyrinthine, all coexisting in harmony and without going too far in one direction. Ignoring these Principles puts the quality of the levels at risk, and even our understanding of the character.

I would have put my own examples here, but just before starting to write this section I got some wonderful ones from Beevean. If you don’t remember her, she helped a lot with the article about the music of Classic Sonic, and I already warned her that if she kept posting examples this good, I would have had no choice but to feature her again. The discussion started from this post, and she says:

If you approach Sonic thinking its only characteristic is “gotta go fast”, the game you’re gonna get is Advance 2. The very flat, boring, “there’s no way to put normal obstacles in these levels so we’re gonna throw bottomless pits at the player until they get sick of them” Advance 2.

Some fast levels can be awful - Stardust Speedway is a disaster from a level design standpoint and the whole level seems to work against you. Some slow levels can be super fun - you rarely run in Lava Reef and you spend most of the time dodging obstables, but that doesn’t stop it from being one of the most beloved levels in S3&K. There’s no arbitrary reason that separates “good” levels from “bad” levels, it’s an amalgamation of many factors - plus of course your personal enjoyment.

And in her tags (because we both include more information in our tags than in our posts) she adds:

The levels that are widely considered bad usually put too much focus on one of the factors you mentioned.

Marble Zone is too slow and linear.

Luminous Forest is too fast and linear.

The Doom and Lost Impact are too labyrinthine.

And so on.

My personal example is Sonic Mania and its progression during the mid-game, from Flying Battery to Mirage Saloon:

Flying Battery is a long level, filled to the brim with speed and emotions, especially during Act 2. After beating the boss, the player is likely going to feeling exhausted after being thrown left and right, and so…

The following level is Press Garden. Act 1 is a relatively closed and relaxed level, but still moving at a reasonable pace. If the player is familiar with the level they can finish it quickly, but they still can take their time appreciating the view of the printing and the machinery of the zone. Act 2 enhances this, with an absolutely lovely view and an active but still relaxed flow…

Then there’s Stardust Speedway, which is divided into two completely opposite acts. Act 1 is a relatively fast level, but very relaxed and almost a Zen-like experience when the player lets himself be carried away by the starry night sky, and with a relative absence of lights or discomfort on the screen (enemies and obstacles aside). Act 2 is the other way around, a largely colorful, explosive, fast level (to the point that I, anything but a speedrunner, managed to finish the level in 31 seconds, 2:10 minutes if you include the fight with Metal Sonic), culminating in one of the longest, most intense bosses in the game that marks the halfway point of the adventure…

After such an exciting journey, the next level is Hydrocity, once again split in half with a calmer, more exploration-oriented Act 1, and an Act 2 that, similarly to the original level, is one of the most adrenaline-filled water levels in the series. The boss is intense as well, but verging on being tedious and not nearly as fast as the level itself…

And finally, Mirage Saloon. Every version of Act 1, regardless of the quality, are there to set up Act 2, a largely open, fast-paced level.

In short, the Mania experience is made of peaks and valleys of emotions and adrenaline, keeping the game to a reasonable pace and with a good dose of speed, exploration and platforming. The player can break the flow anytime to look for Giant Rings and other hidden goodies, and that doesn’t ruin the charm of the level. In the same way, the faster levels require the player to be familiar with them and to know how to platform to get the best results, without giving you free speed like it’s not worth it (looking at you, Advance 2).

Even the worst levels have the chance to redeem themselves, like for example Labyrinth Zone in the “Misfit Pack” Mania mod.

 Breaking the Principles.

When a level or a game breaks the balance for too long, it might become too easy (the infamous “hold right to win”), too boring (the most common argument against Sonic 1 because of levels like Marble Zone and Labyrinth Zone), or too obtuse (the criticism against Sonic CD). The key word is “for too long”, as Beevean already explained how levels that prioritize one thing over the others can still be considered good stages by the majority of the fandom (example: Lava Reef, and I’d add Spring Yard and Final Egg).

As I said before, Mania shows us how there are levels that prioritize certain aspects, but only for a few minutes at a time. Mirage Saloon Act 1 for Sonic and Tails may be a slow, boring level, but it’s only 3 minutes long in a game that lasts 2-4 hours. Same goes for Carnival Night Act 2, a long, tedious level, but that is still a 4-9 minutes long interval before getting back on track with Ice Cap and Launch Base.

3D Sonic is a much more complicated situation, as every game has its pros and cons. Adventure 1 is one of the games that experiments the most with the Principles in a 3D plane, but it breaks the flow of the stages with the plot and hubs worlds to explore (which are pretty divisive even to this day; for the record, on this blog we’re pro hubs). Adventure 2 gets rid of the time-wasting hubs but each character focuses on one Principle at the time: Sonic and Shadow focus almost exclusively on speed with some platforming, Tails and Eggman on action and platforming, and Knuckles and Rouge are all about exploration (and RNG…). Sonic Unleashed does pretty much the same, just reintroducing the hub worlds, while Sonic Generations is at its core a balanced mix of speed, platforming and exploring (plus a much smaller hub between levels), and… well, I think I made myself clear. 3D Sonic is a mess of ideas that orbit around the fundamental Principles, but that for some reason are never kept consistent between games.

Going back to utterly breaking the Principles, there’s one level above all that destroys every one of those extremes, never taking the middle road and without worrying at all about what players might think of it. This level is…

Eggmanland

If Sonic Mania is a clear example of a relatively balanced flow, in its mid-game at least, Eggmanland may be the biggest example of what happens when each and every one of the Principles is taken to its extremes. Let me explain:

Speed: Eggmanland can be both too fast for the player to react, between QTE and super quick jumps that may lead to your death if you’re not fast enough (and you rarely will), or too slow of a slog to navigate (the long Werehog sections).

Platforming: Eggmanland can have too much tricky precision platforming, made even harder due to a lack of a drop shade (the second Werehog section is infamous for this), or it can throw stretches where you do almost nothing but hold X and maybe go through a QTE, which if failed lead to your death once again; at worst you have to wait, which sends us back to our previous point.

Exploration: Eggmanland can be a giant, confusing labyrinth (there is no shortage of stories of player getting lost in this behemoth of a level), and at the same time it can have some long linear room to room progression, separated by doors about as fast as Big the Cat.

I should say that, despite all of this, I love Eggmanland a lot, and same goes for Beevean; but this is something that has to do with what we mentioned before, personal preference. From a technical standpoint, and according to many players, Eggmanland is an absolute nightmare.

Are we misunderstanding Sonic?

Going back to the central topic of this article, I believe that I put enough emphasis on the importance of balance in Sonic, so let’s go back to the previous question: what is the problem?

In short, I disagree with the voices that call for redirecting Sonic towards “fast”, adrenaline-filled stages. These people, with their own retrospective, are doing some sort of revisionism with Sonic levels, automatically branding levels that aren’t as fast as others as “bad”. We’re ignoring the true value of platforming and exploring the levels, and the perception of the character is at risk.

Like Beevean said, looking at Sonic just as “gotta go fast” is, plain and simple, absurd. Sonic is much more than this restless teenager that, just like that movie with the bus, if he doesn’t run at speeds higher than 90 mph his heart will stop. Yes, going fast is a big part of his initial appealing and his way of life (“My stories only end when I stop running”); but when Sonic’s speed is brought up in these discussions, the rest of what makes the character is left outside: how much he admires nature and how much he likes to take a rest every now and then before the next adventure. Sonic OVA, Sonic Adventure, Sonic X and even Sonic Lost World’s ending show that Sonic is not just speed, but also rest, curiosity, exploration. There are even cases where the journey and the friends and memories made along the way are much more important than the destiny itself (Sonic Heroes, Sonic Unleashed), and on several occasions it’s been shown as an actual weakness of the character the fact that he would act recklessly and under the influence of the fateful “gotta go fast”. This aspect of Sonic’s attitude might probably be product of the aggressive marketing campaigns this character endured (ever since the Genesis “Blast Processing”), but it doesn’t tell the whole story, and it’s unacceptable to enforce this line of thought over everything we know about the character.

And to end this long section where I was hinting at one of the most important points of one of the most thoughtful games of the series, let’s not forget that Sonic is pretty aware that everything has a beginning and an end, because that’s the Nature’s way of things and we have to live life at its fullest, for it is finite. Running at top speed is just one of many ways Sonic lives his life, and his eyes will forever be filled, not so much with speed, but with curiosity.

Conclusions

To recap this long article, let’s remember that

Speed, Platforming and Exploration are the three basic Sonic Principles. The momentum in the games comes from the interaction between these elements.

Speed is not something that’s delivered for the sake of being delivered: it usually is a reward or an incentive to keep the player interested, engaged and excited for what’s to come.

Breaking the Principles impacts the experience of the game in many aspects… unless you’re Eggmanland and you’re breaking every single Principle in one level anyway.

To narrow Sonic down to just “speed” is to ignore everything else that this character represents. “Gotta go fast” is a facet of his design and personality, but not the only one.

Starting from this, we can sit down and discuss about “good” and “bad” levels in the series all day long, but I don’t think it’s necessary. Now that we’re about to discover what’s next for the series, I believe it’s important to clarify what Sonic represents in every stage, so that with some luck we can see better consistency and quality in his future adventures.

Speaking of this last point, I just remembered The Geek Critique’s series of Sonic retrospectives, another series of videos that inspired me and I found enlightening. Do you guys remember the videos I linked to at the beginning? Well, it’s time for you to watch them :P (if you want to, of course)

(I’d like to thank Beevean again for suggesting the best examples I could have needed. Seriously, she helped much more than it looks)

What do you guys think? What is the ideal Sonic level, and why? Do you agree that Sonic is much more than a speedy blue hedgehog? In the meantime, we’re hopefully going to see each other very soon. See you next time!

I feel this theme is strangely fitting to conclude this article, lol

~

After the Spanish article was posted, I reblogged with this:

To add something more, I was chatting with a friend of mine who pointed out that, for all the talk in the fandom that we want to see less linear levels, most of the fan favorites are pretty linear - Ice Cap, Speed Highway, City Escape, Rooftop Run… I told him that yeah, linearity isn’t a synonym of bad level design because linear levels can still be enjoyable: with these particular cases, what makes them different from a random Lost Valley is that they have other elements that make them stand out (snowboarding, running down a skyscraper, skateboarding through San Francisco, climbing the Big Ben…). Plus they have something to compensate for the linearity, like fluid platforming.

In the case of Ice Cap and Speed Highway, there’s also a contrast between their halves: IC Act 1 is cramped and heavy on platforming, while Act 2 is much faster and without many obstacles, almost as a reward; Speed Highway starts out as fast and exhiliarating, with little platforming getting in the way of running, but the At Dawn section is a short open space, to let the player catch their breath, to the point that even the music and the aesthetic are much more relaxed. So, as you said, the balance is kept, and when you add a memorable setting and music, you have a great level in your hands.

Thank you @latin-dr-robotnik​ for giving me the permission to post this! I just had to translate this fascinating article to share it with everyone :>

[ravenwritesstuff]

Wandering Hearts (29/?)

Fandom: Frozen AU. Set after shipwreck but before coronation day. 17th Century. Pairing: Kristanna (Kristoff/Anna) Rating: M (like if you don’t know why at this point go away) A/N: *ducks and runs*

HOW WORDS CAN KILL YOU

[ part one] [ part two ] [ part three ] [ part four ] [ part five ] [ part six ] [ part  seven ] [ part eight ] [ part nine ] [ part ten ] [ part eleven ] [ part twelve ] [ part   thirteen ] [ part fourteen ] [ part fifteen ] [ part sixteen ] [ part seventeen ] [ part eighteen ] [ part nineteen ] [ part twenty ] [ part twenty-one ] [ part twenty-one ] [ part twenty-two ] [ part twenty-three ] [ part twenty-four ] [ part twenty-five ] [ part twenty-six ] [ part twenty-seven ] [ part twenty-eight ] [ part twenty-nine ] [ part thirty ]

In retrospect it is unclear exactly what she had expected to see. Her mind had seemingly abandoned any hope of reason, sanity, in this inexplicable place but still found a way to expect - well - something. So when she sees him from her perch atop the giant troll’s shoulder she feels her mind jump to places hazed with pain and shock in search for what she is sure she is missing from the tableau. The darkest places in her mind throb. 

He is not as anticipated though she cannot quite draw the picture of what exactly that is. 

Instead he looks much the same as he always has, though worse for wear. 

At the apex of the swirling quartz, a wild unfurling of thick winding moss spills in a circular bed. The lush green, so similar to that she grips in her fingers upon a giant’s shoulder, cushions his prone form. The white of his skin and gold of his hair is stark contrast to the colors around him. At this distance he seems so small, so still. She cannot tell if he breathes. She needs to get closer. She will get closer. 

The trolls have stopped on the ridge as the woman continues forward, but she will not be made to wait. Not when he is so near. Not when he needs her. 

She starts to scramble down the lengths of moss growing like ropes from it's gargantuan host but does not make it far. A jagged crystal hand catches her before she even leaves it's shoulder. Despite her exhaustion and the futility of her efforts, she struggles.

"Wait," the rumbling order is low and firm.

 The troll scoops her into its gasp and holds once more with her arms trapped to her sides, feet dangling a great distance above the ground, head and shoulders popped just above the shining surface of its fist. It is clear this is not a negotiation and she is about to scream in frustration and rage against this treatment when something catches her eye. 

The group of trolls has encircled the ridge of the crater. They had moved swiftly, silently, and she can see more clearly their number - over twenty. Is this all there are? Did more exist somewhere else? How had these massive creatures existed for so long without being known, without her knowing? And if they are as real as they seem then just what else could be? What other mysteries lies behind the veil of this new reality that continues to unfold around her?

Then more important questions press into her consciousness. Questions she is perhaps afraid to ask, but her mind charges forward anyway. 

What exactly is to happen to Bjarg that these creatures see fit to guard this seemingly sacred ground? What event permits that this strange wisp of a woman alone allowed to approach the green epicenter with slow strides? What means it that whatever strange force brought her here did not deposit her in this place alongside Bjarg? 

She has so long denied herself inquiry, so trained her tongue against it, that she swallows them down until only one question remains screaming at the front of her mind. 

Is he all right?

Nothing else matters. 

She squirms in her captors's hand. Rough edges dig through her clothes. 

"Let me go to him." She begs on a gasp. "Please let me go."

The same low rumble replies, "Wait."

She hates that word. She has been waiting her entire life. Each blind shuffle the woman takes, that Anna must watch from her captivity, grates at her already shot nerves. If she was free she would have already been at Bjarg’s side. She would be able to touch him, to see his face clearly. She would be able to settle her mind, her imaginings of impossible things. She would be able to still the most important of the urgent questions swirling inside because she would be sure of him and that was all she needed. 

She squirms again out of the insatiable need to go to him, but the hand does not budge. 

The woman is at the edge of the creeping green now. Her steps measured and deliberate. There is nothing Anna can do to speed her progress and she wonders again at the wisdom of allowing this blind, tongueless, cripple to go forward before the rest of them. At least she does until her foot first touches the moss. 

The moment the woman pressures the soft, squishy surface a pulse rocks through the air. It stuns Anna, but the woman moves forward. The next step sends a second wave of energy and the trolls begin to sway, to hum, as if the force awakens this new purpose. Even her host is caught in whatever thrall this phenomenon has created. She feels it swing side to side with her in its grip. 

But then the real revelation happens.

This woman, strange and foreign and deformed as she is, finally meets Bjarg where he lays. The space and size of them together is small in her vision and she craves details. She will not have them at this distance, but she squints and tries to understand what she sees.

The woman kneels, back to Anna, thought she does not find this to be deficit. What benefit could come from this woman and her eyeless face being presented to her? There will be no tell there. Still her mangled hands run the length of Bjarg’s body. She touches him with an intimacy unknown to Anna and he makes her blood heat at what this woman knows that she doesn’t. 

A low moan comes from the woman’s throat, deep and soulful. The trolls respond. Their cries somehow a harmony to the woman’s. 

Even if the sounds make no sense to her, the trolls accept and revel in them. 

The woman gives a second cry, deeper and louder than the first, and the trolls respond.

This time Anna feels it.

She has not felt the cry of the trolls yet upon this visit, but the reverberation this time shakes her to the core. It is a strange vibration, a deep one, and the very core of her being screams that she has felt it before.

She knows this feeling.

She knows this place.

She doesn’t understand exactly how or exactly why, but she knows that she does and that she is watching something she does not have the slightest chance of understanding

But here she is.

A third cry comes from the woman and this time only the troll that holds her respond. The isolation of the cry startles her, but the reason comes.

“You must go to him,” the stoney creature commands even as he lowers his hand to the ridge beside them. “You must seek out why she cries.”

And then what she wants is hers. 

Her feet are on solid ground. She is allowed to move, unfettered. Yet she hesitates, if even for one moment, before she moves. 

She does not understand what she sees. She does not trust it, but she steps into the scared crater without a second thought because he needs her.

She needs him.

And that is all there is. 

The world that was warm before turns stifling. The heat of the earth rises to sting her eyes and lungs with each breath. Each step sends new aches through her already pained body, as if the weight from the forest had chased her to this spot. The stagnant, thick air squeezes around her until she can hardly shuffle one foot in front of the other. 

Has the woman before her felt this effort? 

If she had - she hadn’t shown it. 

By the time Anna reaches the edge of the moss her breath is sharp and short. 

But she can see his face now. 

It is sallow, his skin taking on an almost gray appearance, and she thinks he is dead. He is dead and that is why she was called. This is why they were brought to this place in different ways, ended in different locations. He, her Bjarg, her rock, is gone. 

She hits her knees just before she can step upon the moss. All of her strength leaves her. There is so much she wanted to say to him. So much she needed to say, but there was no time for that now. 

He never knew her name.

Bile rises in her throat and she thinks she will vomit but the mutilated woman turns her horror of a face in her direction and whimpers.

It is a sound unlike anything she had ever heard uttered by man or beast, something seeking and plain, that it pulls her out of her mourning before she sinks too deep. Her sound is followed by a deep hum of the trolls that surround them and she feels it this time. For all the resonance she had experienced before from them this is the first time that her actual bones rattle within her skin. 

The sound alone seems to rise her to her feet and push her forward. 

She doesn’t understand it.

Hardly has time to. 

Because before she knows it she is standing beside his shoulders, her body alongside where the battered woman kneels at his midsection, and she can barely think beyond the idea that this is all there is. 

This is it.

Just a body.

She is close enough now to see he is not breathing, the rise and fall of his chest non-existent.

He defended her to where his body had given out. 

She brought him to this point: with her foolishness, her curiosity, her inability to leave well-enough alone.

This is her fault.

Through no outward compulsion she slumps to the mossy floor, body crumbling over his as tears come without bidding. Her entire frame is wracked with sobs, the weight of the air around her making each breath a monumental task, and before even a few moments pass she is lightheaded - dizzy.

Her tears let up, body relenting in its fight to stay conscious, but she hardly notices the horrid woman grabbing her left hand in her own mangled claws and drawing it close. Then there is a blade flashing. Anna doesn’t have time to react, to respond, before her scar is sliced open once more. Her blood wells to the surface of her palm, but she doesn’t feel the pain she felt when she was cut before at the binding.  

The blind woman manages the same blade with surprising precision considering her crippled grip as she severs the skin on her own palm before reaching for Bjarg’s. 

It is only then she reaches out - tries to stay the hand that would create more damage to Bjarg’s body, but it is too late. The cut is made and blood, slower and darker than it should be, barely reaches the surface. The woman, though blind, grabs Anna’s left wrist and brings it alongside hers atop the cut in Bjarg’s palm. 

Anna feels the tears come again. 

Why this effort?

Why this pain?

She is close enough now to see his lack of breath, of color. She is close enough now to understand that when he told her monsters were real that he had been sincere. She is close enough now to know she had lost him.

So why this motion? Why this effort? Why this pain?

She attempts to withdraw but the crippled woman’s mangled hand tightens, the strange knobs and knuckles digging into Anna’s skin, and she turns her face with a growl. Anna doesn’t understand, doesn’t know what words to use in this unspeakable grief. 

She is free of Bjarg but it is nothing like she wanted it to be, nothing she anticipated. She does not want to run. She wants to stay. 

For the first time since she left the palace all she wants is to stay. 

But how can she now that he is gone?

How can she when she doesn’t even know where she is, how to escape? 

Tears rise again as she realizes she has not wanted to escape, has not wanted to leave his side, for longer than she even entertained before. She had wanted to be with him, had wanted to stay with him, consequences be damned. 

But that wouldn’t happen now - couldn’t happen. 

They had made their choices and they had led them here.

She opens tear ruined eyes and looks at his face. It is peaceful despite the lack of color, his warm eyes closed like he was sleeping, his lips slightly parted as if he were about to speak, but she will not hear his voice again. He is too far gone. 

What would he have said if she had given him her name?

What if she had told him truly who she was?

Would it have mattered? Would he have flinched, blanched, sent her back? It does not matter now. 

Nothing really does. 

Her vision blurs once more and it is all she can do it keep herself from collapsing again. She does not understand why she needs to be there, why her flesh was laid open against his when he was already gone.

There is a low rumble, so low she almost cannot hear it, but she feels it. Her bones rattle again as they had before and she looks up. On the edges she sees the trolls with their mouths open, feet stomping, and the sound carries - encircles. The air around her seems to swell. The crushing pressure changing to an inexplicable buoyancy that threatens to lift her from the ground and thrust her into an entirely different oblivion. 

The feeling is so deeply foreign, so very strange like all she has encountered up to this point, that her first thought is to panic. Then the grip on her wrist tightens - the disfigured hand clamping down as if she senses each thought and feeling Anna has without word or sight. A profound groan issues from the mysterious woman’s throat and she throws back her head.

Anna knows the sound. 

It is the wail of grief. 

They are grieving. 

This is the end.

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[dragonnan]

Author Interview Tag

Tagged by @aelaer a week or two ago, thank you!

Name: Tanya (among family I'm Nan or Auntie Nanny)

Fandoms: Sherlock, MCU, Psych, Prodigal Son, and a goodly collection of others

Where you post: For a number of years I posted on FFN but between the really shitty reviews and extremely cumbersome posting process I finally quit.  I posed on Psychfic while still an active part of that fandom but that, too, has pretty much ended.  I put a few stories on Wattpad but found it to be pretty meh. I now post exclusively to AO3.

Most popular multi-chapter fic: It's a tossup between “Fury” on Psychfic and “All Nighter” on AO3 – one based on comments and the other on Kudos.  Frankly “popularity” is really subjective because there's also stuff like read count and with comments, at least nearly half are replies from me and read count also includes re-reads as well as every time I clicked on the damn thing to edit so....

You know I'm just really not sure how to properly answer this??

Favorite story you’ve written so far: Like others have stated you can ask me this on three different days and get three different answers and there will be more than 1 fic mentioned every time so.... Because I write in different fandoms I just absolutely can't list a single fic.  The best I can narrow it would a fic from my top 3 fandoms.

Psych: Paint it Black.  I had read a fic where Shawn was gradually going blind and had really been enjoying it and the challenges it presented.  Sadly it was never completed.  As has happened before I decided I would write my own damn fic if I couldn't get a completed story so that was the primary motivation to start this.  What I most love about this is writing from Shawn's perspective as he navigates being blind and not knowing whether or not his condition is permanent.  I did my best to honor the experience of blind and partially blind people and tried to look beyond the cliché.

MCU: I have so much fun writing these stories! In spite of the dumpster fire the film canon became I do so love this sandbox and employing various forms of unfucking it.  So I'm gonna cheat a little and pick two for my faves here since one is a WIP.  Sed Diabolus.  I don't need to have completed it yet to know this will be my all-time favorite.  This is the first fic that has been entirely plotted out and OMG I'm so excited for iiiit!!  The second is Simple Math which seems like an odd choice given there's zero action – mostly just one character – hell, not even any whump.  But there is something about that deep dive into Tony's mindset that keeps this as a fave even though it was the first thing I ever wrote for the MCU.  I learned about Tony as I wrote this and I also worked my way through those motivations that bothered me regarding Stane.  Even years later I still mentally go back to this fic whenever I write Tony because I feel encapsulates the essence of how I see him as a character.

Sherlock:  Compared to other fandoms I'm still quite new to this fandom so I don't have nearly as many fics.  But I still have a favorite!  And, like with the MCU, it's the first story I ever wrote for this fandom; The Tiger and the Shark. Returning to a plot device I've employed in other fics, this one is built around a sexual assault and taking the character on a journey from that terrible event to the point where they rediscover themselves.  PTSD ever being my favorite form of whump I employ that fairly a lot in this story and employ some kinda radical methods for coping with those memories.  

Fic you were nervous to post: I mean until I start getting comments I'm a world of anxiety with every story I post.  But grabbing a specific fic that hit my nerves – that Sherlock fic I'd said was my fave certainly qualified.  Not only was it my first Sherlock fic – it also was charging out of the gate with a very heavy topic so yeah – I wasn't sure if people would absolutely hate it or find my characterizations totally off or what.

How you choose your titles: It varies a bit.  In some stories, like Sed Diabolus, I actually consult friends on various ideas.  Other times I'll consider songs or lyrics and my favorite thing is if I can alter the known title just a bit to make it more relevant to the fic (I did that a LOT with Psych fics which was the method the show also employed for its episode titles).  One of my favorite Psych titles is “The Wizard Was the Wicked Witch and the Scarecrow Lost His Courage”.  

Do you outline: Almost never – not until “Sed Diabolus”.  That story, though, is so astoundingly complex that without an outline I'd be hopelessly lost.  I am, though, trying to make a practice of outlining more because it helps SO much!

Complete: If we count every one-shot collection and challenge collection it likely is over 200 stories. Of course a lot of those are one-shots.  My total completed chaptered fics number maybe around 34?

In progress: 16 – between Psychfic and AO3.  All Psych stories are on long-term hiatus for the foreseeable future (some, honestly, I will never finish as they are many many years old and I've lost the inspiration for the plot). Several MCU stories are also on the back-burner while I focus on “Sed Diabolus”.  I admit I get LOTS of story ideas and staying focused on a single fic is not something I've ever been greatly successful with.

Coming soon/not yet started: I meaaaan.... lots?? I have probably several hundred ideas and partially started fics across many fandoms.  As to “imminently coming soon...” I don't think I currently have an active story that I haven't already posted at least a first chapter.  Sadly I have zero patience for developing something for months before posting which is why I have so many WIPs.  That said I DO have a Sherlock au that has been poking at me now and then involving the witch trials that started in Denmark and, eventually, made their way to Salem.  The idea would be that Molly Hooper is accused of being a witch.  She, of course, is innocent but cause this unfortunate attention due to her “uncanny” ability to heal the sick and injured (not so much uncanny as opposed to employing methods that aren't so reliant on superstition and folklore).  

She is scheduled to be tortured and executed but is saved by Sherlock – a strange recluse primarily ignored and given a pass as he solves mysteries for people. He and his friend John save Molly from this awful fate. The twist is that Sherlock is a sorcerer (bit of marvel crossover-ish) and able to transport them to safety.  

Do you accept prompts: I wish I could cause I love ideas but I don't have the time/energy to always work on what I already have and I'm awful at follow thru.  Like I will never turn away an Ask wanting to share ideas but I can't promise that I can actually write anything.

Upcoming story you are most excited to write:  As was the reply to a previous query – I have lots that are ideas that will linger in partial stages for sometimes years.  If it's “upcoming” I've already posted the first chapter lol!  But, again, I have several story ideas that whenever I poke through my folders I get excited about someday actually writing them.  Here is a teaser for an MCU fic involving Tony Stark and Obie (I still feel this was never explored enough – certainly not in fic):

They were doing a retrospective, ten year anniversary kinda... whatever.  Unofficial, of course. Certainly nothing Pepper would have dreamed up even at her most drunk (which, honestly, was never her scene.  Tony had sorta owned that space well beyond the time it had started owning him).  Whose idea it ultimately had been?  Frankly Tony couldn't give a fuck.  That he was asked to be one of the speakers was slightly more... awkward. Awkward was the right word, yeah?  Nauseating was certainly another and possibly a bit more accurate.

Dead for a decade and Obadiah Stane still managed to fuck with his life.

But... it hadn't always been that way. At least, not as he'd believed back when the Walkman had been on every kid's Christmas list.  

He'd thought it was bonding; at the time.  His dad had never been one for just hanging out; shooting the shit; telling tales out of school.  No, Pops, when he bothered to interact, led with questions.  “You keeping your grades up?” “You still seeing that floozy?” “When are you going to pull your head out of your ass and grow the hell up?” “You do realize it's my name you're disgracing every time you go on a bender?”

With Obie it was just, easy.  Obie might ask about school but it was always with approval and pride.  He would discuss Tony's conquests as though Tony had climbed Kilimanjaro wearing nothing but underwear and a cape.    

Obie was there when his father wasn't. Which meant that Obie was always there.  The first time he got astoundingly drunk on his father's scotch, Obie was the one to help him hunch over the toilet and vomit expensive, aged booze into the toilet.  Obie was also the one to replace the depleted bottle to keep Howard in the dark.  For a fourteen year old kid still trying to gain his dad's favor, that had meant everything.

He saw his first porn with Obie; sex education ala Traci Lords, three months shy of his fifteenth birthday.  That was the same time he was introduced to weed.  Obie had cautioned him to use it sparingly; didn't want to fry that genius brain, he'd say, and ruffle his hair.  The porn had made him uncomfortable.  Obie had turned it off and told him they could watch whatever Tony wanted.  They'd ended up changing the station to Knight Rider; smoking and munching Cheetos and laughing over their orange fingers.

It was Obie who was there, arm around his shoulders, after his parents died.  He desperately didn't want to sob in front of the man.  Things were so complicated with his dad that all he felt was blinding guilt... as though some part of him had caused this.  But Obie had filled him with bourbon until the emotions got soft around the edges and he'd sat beside the older man, head tipping gradually to the right until he was held up by Obie's shoulder.  Obie had just slung an arm around him and let Tony pass out while he rubbed a broad hand up and down his bicep.

It was strange, now, looking back with adult perspective.  A perspective that included Afghanistan and his intended execution while Obie talked about legacy and responsibility while Tony's lungs slowly seized.  He'd taken the time to sit there – arm around Tony's shoulders while one broad hand traveled up and down Tony's bicep – just like when he was a kid and Obie was the whole world.

He'd tried to remember if it had felt so... tainted... at the time.  Or if he'd always believed it was love.

Obie had never quite crossed that line. Though hindsight offered a peek into that possibility with enough clarity Tony had fought with his cramping gut for nearly thirty minutes.  He'd staved off vomiting though he was fairly certain his dignity had still been in tatters what with Bruce wandering in on his misery.

Upcoming story you are most excited about (this is basically a repeat of the above question so I decided to change it.  Do you have a future story idea you'd like to write that is not yet beyond the vague idea stage?  I love stories that put Molly in some sort of jeporady and I have a barely formed idea to someday write a “stalker fic” of some sort and not I don't care that this trope had been done on  repeat – I still love it lol!  I have a smidge of writing for it:

“I need your help.”

As afternoons at Baker Street went, this was a mundane request heard so often that Sherlock's typical reply, “Obviously, or you wouldn't be here”, could have been printed on flash cards.  The detective had actually made the suggestion after a particularly full day at the flat and having heard the statement no less than twenty times.  

Today, however, Sherlock merely blinked for a moment.  Then, with an awkwardness rare to a man with a lethal sort of grace in his movements, Sherlock gestured to John's chair, JOHN'S CHAIR, before taking his usual seat.

Molly didn't exactly smile but her lips edged up a bit before she sat.

John cleared his throat before pointing a vague hand towards the kitchen.  “I'll just go make some tea, shall I?”

“No, please, I...”  The stammer in her speech was not uncommon; though John couldn't recall such obvious fear.  Forgoing the kitchen he, instead, took the hard wooden chair facing the other two.

“Molly, what's wrong?”

Tagging: @kitcat992 @mizjoely @sgam76 @ariaadagio @hanuko @ceruleanmindpalace 

[travllingbunny]

AoS rewatch: 1x07 The Hub

I’m late with this in relation to the fandom-wide rewatch timetable, but actual work takes precedence. I hope to be able to catch up soon.

This episode is the second one in a row that focuses on Fitz and SImmons and gives them more development. But unlike FZZT, which also had a really strong case-of-the-week, this one has a throwaway plot about agents going to Russia twice to...do...stuff...which is supposed to have something to do with South Ossetian separatists and anti-separatists.  I’m not a fan of TV shows randomly throwing in references to real world conflicts that it has no intention of treating seriously. If you need some random Eastern European stereotypes, better use made-up stereotypical Eastern European countries like Sokovia or Markovia and whatever. A fictional world like that of the MCU universe has a perfect excuse to do that.

This is also the episode where me first meet Victoria Hand,. Agent Sitwell also pops up, and we get to see “the Hub”, SHIELD  headquarters (one of them, apparently smaller than the Triskelion), in a secret location.

This episode begins in medias res - extremely so, with some guys interrogating Coulson, who’s doing the Black Widow from The Avengers thing, tied up to a chair, only in his case it’s in an underground prison in Siberia. In this case, the scary interrogator turns out to be SHIELD Agent Shaw. (A common name enough, I guess, or just one that the AoS writers like.) It would be fun to follow a story about Agent Shaw and what it was like to torture people brutally so you would maintain a cover, but AoS is not really a show that likes to go there, just like it never really went there with Bobbi Morse.

To sum up SHIELD’s international dealings: they have a close relationship with the US government, offices in China and Morocco, no office in Peru or Italy (see 1x13) but they cooperate with the police there; and no office or cooperation and a rather hostile relationship with Russia and Belarus and, in fact, go to missions unknown to the governments of these countries; Including breaking into government facilities. How many international laws are they breaking? To be fair, they’re also kidnapping US citizens on its soil, so they’re also breaking US laws.

Some weapon called “overkill device” is involved. (At least the show itself makes fun of it, pointing out its OTT name. “Something was lost in translation”.) 

Victoria Hand is somewhat of a legend. Coulson has never met her before, but he knows her by reputation. 

Skye is, of course, upset over the secrecy that surrounds the mission, now that a higher up is in charge. The others keep dismissing her concerns as silly - but she later turns out to be completely right. Fitz: “No need to start with one of your socialist rants”. *sigh* That’s not what “socialism” means, Fitz. I guess the SHIELD Academy  didn’t provide a lot in terms of general education in the field of humanities.

There’s mission that Ward and Fitz have to go to as a team, but it’s just an excuse to get the Odd Couple pairing of these two on a mission and do the classic bromance progression from arguing to starting to respect or like each other more. In retrospect, this is what makes this episode important, other than the introduction of Hand - it helps build a stronger bond between Fitz and Ward, which will make Ward’s betrayal much more painful and hit Fitz very hard. This is one of the reasons why those people who go “oh, you can just skip the early episodes” are bozos - without the buildup of Ward’s relationships with the other team members, and without those early lighthearted moments, what happens later in the season would never have the same emotional weight.

Meanwhile, Simmons and Skye have their “bad girl shenanigans” at the Hub, where Simmons is responsible for some of the show’s funniest moments (”You certainly have a gorgeous...head”, “I like men who are about my height but heavier than me”) and we get a great Skye “WTF?!” face:

I like using it as a meme. In fact, I’ve seen it used even before I started watching the show.

Simmons is a rule follower, but the moment she hears that Fitz may be in danger and could be tortured somewhere, she changes her mind and is break the rules.  Last episode we heard Fitz is afraid to go to the field, now that Simmons loves following the rules, but both of them are ready go outside their comfort zones to save the other.

There is noticeable new closeness between FitzSimmons after the events of 1x06, or maybe it is just because we have never seen them getting separated (yes, this is their first separation!) or Simmons worrying about Fitz.

I know that the Sandwich (TM) is something of a legend, but no matter how much the fandom has mourned it, Ward was right that it had to thrown away, or else we’d be mourning Fitz - dogs were, indeed, following them.

The nice version of Ward, which we see when he tells Fitz he has nothing to prove and that he knows he would have jumped out to save Simmons, will be contrasted with Ward’s darker side in the very next episode, when he bullies Fitz, targeting his weaknesses while under the influence of the staff. Both moments show that Ward was always noticing Fitz’ feelings for SImmons, maybe before Fitz himself fully admitted them to himself (which he’ll talk to Fitz about in 1x19).

Skye had a moment when she almost gave in to the selfish urge to use her brief access to confidential files to try to decipher the redacted file on herself, but then she gave priority to Ward’s and Firz’s safety and checked the mission file.

That blooper is right - Skye, May and Simmons  lined up in that scene really make you think of Charlie’s Angels.

While Hand is portrayed as a SHIELD hardliner with a stern and somewhat ruthless attitude, she finally reveals a nicer side, when our protagonists can’t even see her. She lets Coulson and his team go on their rescue mission and is smiling seeing that they are safe, pointing out her belief that they can carry it out “We needed our resources elsewhere. And it’s Coulson’s team, they don’t need one’. This feels different than her portrayal in upcoming episodes like 1x11 or 1x16. She also obviously wasn’t suspicious of Coulson at this point. Is it just because she still didn’t know about Hydra? Or it was Coulson blowing up the facility in 1x14 and  Ward shooting Nash after Deathlock lead them to him, that made her suspicious. Or maybe it was already the fact he let Mike be a part of the team in 1x10, which was one of her arguments against him.   

Does Sitwell know about Ward also being Hydra? He didn’t seem particularly happy that they were getting rescued, so maybe he doesn’t, and identifies of many Hydra double agents were shared only on need to know basis or within smaller units. After all, Cap’s “Hail Hydra” ruse in Endgame wouldn’t have worked otherwise. Garrett was mostly running his own thing while making sure what he’s doing also remains useful to Hydra through the creation of supersoldiers, while pursuing his goal of finding the way to ensure his survival, so he may have revealed Ward’s allegiance just to a select few or almost no one.

Coulson spends a lot of this episode telling Skye things like “Some secrets are meant to stay secret” but doesn’t actually mean it, as he enlists May to help in trying to find out info about Skye’s parentage; and tries to open his own file about his recovery in “Tahiti”, learning his Level 8 clearance isn’t enough.  I believe Fury is Level 10. I wonder who is Level 9? Hand also doesn’t seem to know the truth.

Hand notes that Coulson is a special favorite of Fury - “Not everyone gets sent to Tahiti” (cough). Which the season 1 ending will certainly prove.

Foreshadowing

Ward to Fitz: “How long can you hold your breath underwater?” (This line will never sound the same.)

Fitz: “You should know by now, Agent Ward, that looks can be deceiving.” (Oh Fitz, you have no idea.)

Fitz to Ward: “I am every bit the SHIELD agent you are”. (Oh, Fitz, you have no idea.)

Skye about Coulson: “He’s acting like a robot version of himself right now.” (..No comment.)

[ask-venom-and-eddie]

The Microwave Incident™

Fandom: Venom Movie (2018) Relationships: Eddie Brock/Venom Symbiote/Anne Weying/Dan Lewis Characters: Eddie Brock, Venom, Anne Weying, Dan Lewis AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17297084 Additional Note: This primarily focuses on Dan and Eddie bonding*

Summary: In all of Dan’s years of life, he’d never quite expected to one day be cohabiting with both his girlfriend, his girlfriend’s partner and the symbiote that lived within said partner.

In all of Dan’s years of life, he’d never quite expected to one day be cohabiting with both his girlfriend, his girlfriend’s partner and the symbiote??? that lived within said partner. But as much of Life goes, nothing will ever be quite as planned and if there’s anything he’s learned to be good at by this point, it would be to go with natural progression. Things are much easier when one learns to acknowledge it and deal with whatever happens when it happens.

Besides, it’s not so bad. The total amount of time it takes to complete chores is effectively shortened down with proper delegation. There’s always someone present to take care of the cat, trips to retrieve groceries are shortened, household fees are equally split, and the amount of troublemakers around the area have mysteriously vanished....All things considered, Eddie is a pretty decent housemate. That is if one can get used to occasionally waking up to a black humanoid mass shoveling the contents of their fridge into their gaping maw, all the while making eye contact with them.

Okay so maybe Venom is a little bit as intimidating as they are fascinating to Dan.

But can anyone really blame him for that? Considering how their first meeting had resulted in Dan very nearly getting choked out by them...him?? How does the whole...symbiote thing work? Truth be told, he’s still not all too caught up with the details entirely. Of course, Anne had briefly explained Eddie’s situation after the whole... ‘Hospital thing’. The last he’s heard about Venom had been that the symbiote was presumed dead. And now, they’re alive again?

He still remembers the exact moment Anne had found out Venom was still very much alive and very much a part of Eddie. Boy, had that been quite the fiasco. Thankfully, things have more or less settled into a peaceful routine now. It’s clear that Anne and Eddie still have things to work out between the both of them and that is not up to Dan to fix. But the doctor is optimistic all the same that they’ll get there in their own time too.

For now, he’s content with the arrangement. Laughing together as they watch bad reruns on tv, dining out together at least once a week, watching Mr Belvedere and Venom get accustomed to one another, having fun and respectful debates with Eddie...it’s fun. It’s nice. Dan would even venture to call it comfortable.

With the occasional exceptions.

Namely now. Noticing the distinct smell of char and smoke wafting out of their shared apartment isn’t exactly something one looks forward to when returning home. Alarm converting into adrenaline, Dan breaks into a run, heart hammering under his chest. By the time he’s shouldered the door open and dropped his bags in favor of rushing inside, he finds a panic-stricken Eddie attempting to fan out the interior of the microwave that had erupted in flames with his hoodie.

“Eddie d-” He’s barely able to get a word of warning out before the ends of Eddie’s hoodie catches on fire too, leading to more panicked gasps from the other and a rushed attempt to stomp out the flames. Eddie probably would have succeeded if it weren’t for the fact that his frenzied attempts ensured that he got a little too close to the microwave that was still on fire and Dan could only watch in horror when he makes contact with it by the tip of his elbow and practically howls.

A little part of it might have been Venom’s doing too because Dan sees tendrils of black inky rope-like substance emerge, rapidly roping up Eddie’s elbow. Stray tendrils extended, attaching themselves beneath the kitchen table floor. Eddie is then bodily dragged underneath in an attempt to take cover. They’re protecting him. Dan dimly registers. But now isn't really the time to be making sense of things. He has a fire to put out.

Galvanised by determination, the doctor scrambles to put gloves on just in case. He takes a moment to ease his nerves before he slams the microwave oven door shut. Careful to keep a wide berth as he turns it off, Dan unplugs the power cord just in case. There’s very little one can do except to suffocate the flames, which is exactly what he attempts to do.

Eddie is still in the same location by the time Dan could safely declare that he has the situation contained. He’s hunched over in a futile attempt to fold himself in half, breathing erratically, the back of his hoodie sweat-drenched. An inky black substance, almost oily in sheen, oozes from his chest. Almost as if reflecting Eddie’s current state, the tendrils jitter, a seething mass twitching with agitation.

Whatever it was doing, if anything at all, captures Eddie’s attention enough and he’s just barely able to focus a wide-eyed gaze at Venom in a struggle not to hyperventilate. Shaky fingers grasped at the symbiote, tugging on them in an effort to pull him closer even as Eddie fought for air.

As Dan hurries his way forward, it’s becoming more and more apparent that the other is having trouble calming himself down. In retrospect, perhaps he shouldn’t have moved as quickly as he did because the sudden movement has Venom’s hackles raising and Dan is greeted with a furious bellow, fangs bared, claws extended. Oh boy oh boy.

“It’s okay, it’s okay!” His own heartbeat hammers in his ears when Dan raises his hands. Much like one would approach a skittish animal, the doctor slows his approach. Inch by gradual inch, Dan makes his way closer in what he hopes to be a non threatening manner.

“It’s okay, buddy. I’m-I’m not going to hurt him or you. I’m here to help. Let me help, Venom. Please.”

Pearlescent eyes narrowed into slits at his words and Dan resists the urge to gulp. Against his own wishes, he finds himself holding his breath when Venom appears to consider his offer. There’s something about finding yourself the sole focus of something so..otherworldly. Something powerful enough to snap your spine in one solid move if it thought to do so. It settles beneath his skin, all pins and needles.

It takes a while- Eddie may be the one looking worse for wear but Venom. Venom is a constantly shifting mass, shape inconsistent, as if it was compelled to stay close yet pull away at the same time. Dan might not understand the symbiote as much as Eddie or even Anne does, but it’s apparent even to him that Venom isn’t feeling all too good either.

There’s really no other way to describe the symbiote’s movements. But Dan would compare it to a drop of water against speakers playing at an unbearably loud volume. Nevertheless, a decision is finally made. With their last shudder, Venom oozes back. Whatever visible parts of it slithers back in quicker than Dan could blink. All that remains is a disembodied hand, fingers carefully interlaced with Eddie’s in a singular gesture that conveyed both a need for comfort and an effort to reassure.

Choosing to interpret that as assent, Dan wastes little time in shuffling underneath the table as well so that he would be seated next to Eddie’s hunched figure. “Eddie. Eddie, can you hear me?” It takes him a few tries before he’s able to get a response from his panicky companion. Eddie’s hands clenched into fists in a repeated pattern: squeeze, release, squeeze, release. Combating threats Dan can’t see, wisps of nightmares he doesn’t have access to. Not in the same way he does.

Eddie’s face is ruddy with exertion and emotional toil, breathing shaky and stilted. Dan watches as his companion thumps at the front of his chest in a manner that suggested he was attempting to dislodge something even though he knows nothing is there.

“Sorry.” Eddie’s voice cracks when he chokes out a coherent reply, pitched high and teetering on the edge of exhaustion. He scrubs at his face, still hunched up against himself. “I don’t-I don’t know what- What’s happening to me.”

And Dan could feel his heart break just a little.

“Experiencing emotional distress of sorts in highly stressful situations is a valid response, Eddie. Don’t apologise for that.” Though his reflex and instincts willed him to initiate contact as a means of comfort, the doctor hesitates and lifts away the hand that had been hovering near Eddie’s shoulder. Touch is grounding for some but it may not for others. The last thing Dan wants is for Eddie to feel even worse.

A little part of him wonders if it had been the fire or the fact that he’d failed to prevent it from catching fire that evoked such an intense response. Whichever it is, it’s not a question to be asking now. There’s always time to figure it out in the future. For now, what Eddie needs is the means to regulate his breathing and even out his physical reactions. Maybe get something for burns. That’s right-

“Eddie, may I?” By way of finishing his sentence, Dan gestured at his companion’s elbow only for Eddie to shake his head after comprehension dawns on him.

“No need.” Eddie manages to wheeze out with a measure of effort. “.Big guy’s...got it covered.”

“Oh.” A beat later. “He can do that?”

His surprise must have shown because the corners of Eddie’s mouth twitched upwards for the briefest of moments when he casts gaze on him. The edges of red-rimmed eyes may have crinkled just the tiniest bit with fondness.

“Yeah. He can-” An abortive gesture is made, aimless before Eddie sets his hand again the front of his chest, kneading. Probably uncomfortable from the amount of effort it took to keep breathing regularly. “He can do a lot.”

“Huh. Fascinating. What else can he do?” Maybe if they talked about Venom, it’d be enough of a distraction to ease his discomfort. “Uh. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, no pressure.” There’s virtually nothing Dan could, or would do, with that information anyways. Assuming the symbiote may be suspicious about that.

He’s met with yet another abortive gesture but Venom must not have minded much since Eddie answers him in halting sentences, pausing frequently to breathe deeper. They talk and Dan shares stories of his own when Eddie trails off: Teenage escapades, past pets, unfortunate haircuts, late night hospital antics with the staff, his ongoing struggles with the parking meter, stories that have Eddie looking less haunted. Eddie tells him about his investigative work, speaks jargon that goes over Dan’s head about motorbikes, captures his attention with descriptive details about the wild adventures he’d gotten into, reasons his opinions on current mysteries.

They don’t talk about the microwave and Eddie doesn’t come out from underneath the table when Dan excuses himself to answer a call.

But he makes space for him when Dan comes back with two cups of hot cocoa. Mr Belvedere slinks in to join them, shameless in the way they curled up in Eddie’s lap, purring louder than he’s ever heard. And Dan decides that Eddie’s a little bit like a cat himself when he slumps against his side, cheek warm against Dan’s shoulder, breathing finally even as he dozes.

They’re still there when Anne returns home. The question in her eyes were apparent when she finally catches sight of them. But she only nods when he mouths ‘I’ll tell you later’, eyes honey soft. Her lips are warm when she presses a kiss to his cheek and runs her fingers through Eddie’s hair, angling awkwardly just so she could press one against his temple.

Things are okay. They’re all okay.

Something in Dan relinquishes it’s hold with a soft sigh and he revels in it’s absence. He feels light, whole, good.

Yeah, they’ll be okay.

[snkpolls]

SnK S3E15 Poll Results (Anime Only Viewer Version)

The poll closed with 84 responses. Thank you to everyone who participated!

Please note this is the anime only viewer version of the poll. Manga readers, please click here for the results of the manga reader poll!

RATE THE EPISODE 65 Responses

This episode got overall positive responses from the fandom, with nearly all votes at a 4-5 rating. Can WIT keep up this momentum?

Another fantastic episode.

intense

Stressful

Rude

WHICH OF THE FOLLOWING WAS YOUR FAVORITE MOMENT? 64 Responses

The favorite moment of the episode inarguably goes to Bertolt activating his Bertl Bomb™! Closely behind is the short Mikasa vs. Bertolt conflict, and in third place is Annie’s hesitance to assist in killing Marco.

Reiner was right, Bertholdt really was the strongest warrior of their so-called "hometown", able to fend himself off from an Ackermann.

Wow Bertholdt is really strong, he completely dominated Mikasa in their fight.

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THE APETITAN AND YOUSEEBIGGIRL REARRANGES? 61 Responses

72% of respondents were thrilled to hear new versions of familiar songs from Sawano, feeling that the new versions were totally epic. Nearly 20% still prefer the originals, although they agree the new versions sounded cool.

WHAT’S YOUR OPINION ABOUT THE RECENT EARLY EPISODE LEAKS? 63 Responses

54% of respondents weren’t even aware that leaks of the episode had happened. 23% aren’t happy about the leaks happening, while 15% don’t really care.

Great. I hate sunday releases

WHO WON THE SHOUTING MATCH? 63 Responses

With nearly ¾ of the vote, Bertolt is deemed the winner of the shouting match on the rooftops!

Armin should have asked Bombholdt why they wanted to kill all humans.

HOW DID YOU FEEL ABOUT BERTOLT’S DEVELOPMENT AT THIS POINT? 64 Responses

40% of respondents are glad to see how far he’s developed as a character. 26% are just happy to have his thoughts and more lines from him, and narrowly behind at 25% people are curious to see what will become of his character.

He’s progressed but in the way of the warriors. The more he’s with beasty and Reiner the more cold hearted he becomes.

i still hate him with all my heart

Bertholdt with conviction is really badass. He’s actually interesting now.

HOW DID YOU FEEL ABOUT ARMIN BLUFFING ABOUT ANNIE A SECOND TIME? 64 Responses

A whopping 60% of respondents believe that Armin should have known better than to try manipulating Bertolt’s feelings for Annie to his benefit again, while the remaining 37% feel that it was worth another shot.

I think in Armin’s scenario he couldn’t think of another bluff that quickly so he resorted back to Annie, knowing that there was a chance it wouldn’t pay off.

WHAT DID YOU THINK ABOUT CGI COLOSSAL TITAN? 63 Responses

With a surprising divide between positive and negative reactions, 42% of viewers are pleased with the CGI render of the Colossal Titan, labeling it as “awesome.” Closely behind, 30% feel that it’s very “meh.”

WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT THE 104TH RIDING ON TITAN EREN? 64Responses

Fanart becomes a reality as the 104th take a ride on Eren’s titan form! 42% of viewers found this detail adorable, 29% think it’s pretty neat, and 20% don’t think much of it either way.

WHAT WAS YOUR REACTION WHEN IT WAS REVEALED THAT ALL OF THE WARRIOR TRIO WERE INVOLVED IN MARCO’S DEATH? 64 Responses

Much to the pollster’s delight, it seems that Reiner’s brief flashback from season 2 didn’t spoil it for everyone! A solid 25% of viewers had expected that each of them played a part in Marco’s death. 20% of viewers were genuinely surprised by the reveal. 18% picked up on the clue from season 2.

FUCK. REINER. BERTOLT. AND ANNIE.

I excepted all 3 to be involved but I DIDN’T expect them to care about killing Marco.

I loved seeing that Annie actually cared and didn’t want to take Marco’s ODM gear.

DO YOU THINK THE WARRIOR TRIO COULD HAVE NEGOTIATED WITH MARCO WITHOUT KILLING HIM? 63 Responses

The overwhelming majority believe that Reiner and Bertolt were right to believe that negotiation with Marco wasn’t possible. 14% of respondents aren’t sure either way, and 12% feel they could have come to an understanding.

THE WARRIORS TALK ABOUT AN “EVIL RACE” AND JUST WANTING TO “END IT.” WHAT DO YOU MAKE OF THIS? 63 Responses

Nearly half of respondents believe that there’s someone above the warriors who wants humanity to perish. 20% believe that shifters are a different race than the rest of humanity in the walls, and 19% believe everyone in the walls are of a certain race, and that is why the warriors are trying to kill them. In retrospect, we should have left an option for write in answers. :P

WHAT DO YOU THINK THE SIGNIFICANCE OF REINER’S WORDS ABOUT HIS PROMISE TO YMIR ARE, IF ANY? 63 Responses

42% of respondents feel that Reiner’s desire to fulfill his promise to Ymir stem from mixed motivations. 20% believe that he genuinely just wants to save Historia, and 19% believe that he’s doing it as a way to repay her for saving them.

I feel like he’s honoring her last wish. (My theory is the Quadruped Titan night have eaten her)

REINER SURVIVED THE THUNDER SPEAR ATTACK BY TRANSFERRING HIS CONSCIOUSNESS AGAIN - THOUGHTS? 64 Responses

Over half of the fandom feel that Reiner’s abilities are simply born from plot armor. At much smaller percentages, 15% of respondents feel that it’s a reasonable explanation for his survival, 12% think it’s a super cool feature of his titan, and 10% aren’t really bothered about it.

Again, I think this is how shifting works. If your consciousness is transferred to your body then you transform, but if your mind and body are disconnected (by cutting off the nape) you die.

whatever, i just hate him with all my heart

WHAT IS THE FATE OF HANGE’S SQUAD? 63 Responses

44% of respondents are certain that most of the soldiers with Hange were killed in the blast, with maybe a couple of survivors. 30% are slightly more optimistic about the survival numbers, but ultimately feel most of them didn’t escape the blast. 15% are certain that all of them have perished, and a small 9% are optimistic about their fates.

I hate that I have to wait  until Sunday to see what happened to Hange’s squad.

DO YOU THINK THE 104TH WILL BE ABLE TO DEFEAT BERTOLT? 62 Responses

43% of respondents have faith that the 104th will be able to outdo Bertolt somehow and defeat him. 29% don’t want to say confidently either way, and 17% already know what happens.

HOW HAVE YOU OPINIONS ON THE FOLLOWING CHARACTERS CHANGED?

After this episode, Marco, Bertolt, Annie and Armin got large boost in regards to how well liked they are among respondents. Meanwhile, Reiner took the biggest hit, with more people finding him less favorable than more favorable, although most opinions remained unchanged. The Beast Titan, now known as Zeke, got a boost in terms of favorability. Mikasa remained mainly unchanged, but also received a good boost in favorability this episode.

BARREL BOY BEST (problematic) BOY

Jean and Mikasa are the only ones with resolve. Reiner and Bert are from the past

It feels like each character is acting realistically. They are on opposite sides of a war that they don't understand but were thrust into

ADDITIONAL THOUGHTS ON THE EPISODE?

It’s nice. Bertolt’s tranformation scene was really epic... but Hange squad might be dead... T.T

I think they could of done a better job in going into more depth about the plan? And i wish they didn't leave us hanging with what happened to Hange's squad

This may be a long one so buckle up. (im sorry)

Okay, so first off I didn’t know that quadrupedal titan could speak so that totally caught me off guard. Secondly, having seen the Lost Girls OVA, I expected Annie and at least someone else to be involved with Marco’s death. I feel really bad for Annie (and Bertolt, but mostly Annie) because it was obvious she didn’t want to kill Marco. Also Reiner’s split personality thing??? Anyways, I’m happy we finally got to see the beadt titan shifter, he kinda looks like Grisha though. The thing with Bert and Reiner was great. The Bert vs Armin yelling battle was great as well. I’m super excited for the next episode! This one was so good.

WHERE DO YOU PRIMARILY DISCUSS THE SERIES? 60 Responses

Thank you to everyone who participated! We’ll see you again in a few days!

[killian-whump]

Killian Jones deserves more friendships... Just sayin

YES.

Although, to be fair, he does have friendships and relationships in the show. Plenty of them, in fact! The problem is that they’re TOLD to us rather than SHOWN to us most of the time, and the few glimpses we GET of these relationships are so short and infrequent that it makes them easy to forget or underestimate, and WAY too easy for people to shrug off or sweep under the rug in order to focus on whatever relationships THEY want to paint as being the “one and only” important relationship in Killian’s storyline.

For fun, let’s have an impromptu retrospective of his canon relationships: 

Hook and His Mother: From Wish Hook’s naming of Alice, and his comment that his mother “tried to stay with [him] as long as she could” we know that they had a good relationship, he remembers her fondly, and she left him all too soon. Unfortunately, that’s literally all we know - and we never got to SEE her.

Hook and His Father: Before he sold his sons into slavery for a rowboat, Brennan Jones seemed to be a good father. We’re told this by the show in the way he comforts Killian, and how Killian idolizes him and wants to be just like him. Granted, this could be due more so to Killian’s own tendency to pick a person in his life and put them on a pedestal, but we know from the others he’s put on such pedestals that he tends to choose people he feels are good people. Even Killian’s “He wouldn’t do that!” outburst when he learns what his father has done points to the fact that his relationship with Brennan before this point was positive enough that the boy genuinely doesn’t believe his father would do this to him. And it is this good relationship they had that left Killian feeling as abandoned and betrayed as he did. Had the relationship been bad from the start, he may not have been as scarred by the abandonment, itself.

Hook and Liam: The show makes a HUGE deal about how important Liam is to Hook, and we can see that in how Hook talks about him and the few flashbacks we were allowed to see… but he only actually appears in three episodes. It’s just the first of many examples where we’re told “this is an important relationship of Hook’s” without being shown enough evidence in the show to really illustrate how or WHY it’s so important. We only get glimpses and are forced to fill in the blanks on our own.

Hook and Milah: Like with Liam, we are told in a myriad of ways just HOW important this relationship is to Hook, but shown very little of it. Fandom has done a wonderful job of filling in the blanks, of course, but there’s so little canon information to go on, aside from the fact that we’re TOLD that his love for her never waned for literally hundreds of years. It’s why some fans can so easily shrug off the importance of this relationship, as well - which is the problem when it comes to almost ALL of Hook’s relationships. He has them; we’re told he has them, but without SEEING them, it’s easy for people to discredit them.

Hook and Smee: Yes, we know they’re “best mates” and Smee is always around and he’s Hook’s first mate and always loyal to him… but you can count the number of truly meaningful scenes they share on, well, one hand. The show relies more on the viewer knowing that Hook and Smee are a classic duo than they use the actual storytelling to show us that it’s true.

Hook and Baelfire: Hook didn’t sell Baelfire off of his ship the day after he arrived. It was some time later. You can tell by how close they are in the Port/Starboard scene, when Hook reveals his own abandonment to him. Hook also confirms it when he tells Emma that Neal was with him “long enough to know I miss him, too”. That wasn’t a day or two. It was awhile. Long enough to profoundly affect Hook. Long enough for Hook to harbor (and maintain) almost fatherly feelings towards the boy. And we were cheated out of seeing it.

Hook and Cora: We saw more of this than a lot of other relationships, but nowhere near enough. How did they go from literally trying to and/or almost killing each other to being partners who tease each other with comments like, “Why do you still doubt me?” and are obviously banging in kinky ways. I want to know more about how that relationship developed. I want to know more about how sincere it was (or wasn’t), because it feels deeper than the usual superficial villain pair-up that we usually see, and this holds true when they’re reunited in S5 in the Underworld. There is a warmth between them in that scene that points to a sincere friendship that I wish we’d seen more of.

Hook and Emma: This one we get to see in its entirety, and it’s beautiful.

Hook and Tinkerbell: Again, we’re TOLD they had a history, but mostly through off-handed comments, implications, their consistently friendly/flirty demeanor towards each other, and behind-the-scenes confessions that the actors were told they’d had a fling.

Hook and David: Another one we get to see pretty thoroughly. Bless.

Hook and Belle: Okay, so he knocked her out and almost killed her on their first meeting. Aaaaaaand he tried to kill her on their second meeting. And he shot her and erased her memories on their third. But… it got better! This is one of the few relationships the show stuck with and actually gave us glimpses of throughout the seasons, making it feel like a genuine friendship that was growing deeper and more meaningful as time went by.

Hook and Ariel: This one goes without saying. Yes, they had some ups and downs and some bludgeonings and slaps, but ultimately, these two are friends. And Wish Hook and Wish Ariel’s friendship just proves this all the more. However, as usual, the kind of “blink and you’ll miss it” acknowledgement of this friendship makes it all too easy for people to dismiss it as “fanon”.

Hook and Henry: Another pairing that we got to see develop in canon, thank goodness. Hook went from the “cool pirate guy” to the guy his mom was dating to a true member of his family and his step-father. And it’s great. And S7 gave us Henry meeting another version of his step-father, this time as a grown man, and forging a genuine friendship with him, as well.

Hook and Ursula: Granted, they definitely weren’t friends when Ursula came back to Storybrooke, but she sailed on Hook’s ship with him and his crew for some time before Hook was forced to betray her. And when he made right on this betrayal years later and got her voice back for her and reunited her with her father (who admitted his guilt in Hook’s betrayal as well as apologizing for his role in it), Ursula was clearly willing to forgive Hook and help him in return. I think, given the positive foundation of their relationship and their eventual reconciliation, a friendship could’ve (and should’ve) blossomed here.

Hook and Nemo: Aw, geez. The show sets Nemo up as a fatherly figure to the men he “rescues” aboard his ship. He’s clearly a father figure to Hook’s half-brother, Liam. He openly states that he wants to help Killian similarly, literally telling Hook he wants him to join their family. And while events in the past led to Killian leaving, it’s obvious in the present-day scenes between these two that Nemo still sees Killian as a part of his “family” - and that Killian feels the same. That the show cast him off entirely to shores unseen is a damn crime.

Hook and Liam: Another brother. Another Liam. Another family member that Killian begins to bond with… and then gets literally shipped off the show.

Hook and Snow White: Out of nowhere, they have a close moment on the docks where she kisses his cheek and says she’s glad he’s the one Emma’s found to share her life with. Sweet. He also calls her “Mummy” in a later scene, during the finale. Hilarious. BUT WHERE’S THE REST OF IT?! And by “it” I mean the rest of their damn relationship?!

Hook and Jasmine: These two form an entirely unlikely (but delightful) friendship in S6. However, we’re kind of just expected to assume there’s a friendship there by the closeness they share (their frank conversation on the Nautilus) and the smiles and warmth they consistently address each other with.

Hook and Black Beard: Now THIS is how you do a “frenemies” ship right here. They’re like the Itchy and Scratchy of Once. They try to kill each other. They play cards. They try to kill each other again. They take over the other one’s ship. They talk about their lady troubles. They try to kill each other. They offer unsolicited advice. They go portal hopping together. They randomly have a swordfight. They abandon each other to child natives. They try to kill each other again. They hunt for treasure. They plot out elaborate schemes to give friends a good adventure. This one’s gold.

Wish Hook and Regina: Oh, goodness. S7 gives us so many subtle touches, smiles, and intimate moments between these two that those watching for such things are convinced something more than friendship was brewing there - but it was done SO subtly that those who weren’t watching for it literally missed it all entirely. Whether they were building up something for an eventual romance or just presenting them as extremely close friends, there was definitely something purposely put there in canon. Hopefully, we would’ve found out more about it in S8, had we been lucky enough to get one.

Wish Hook and Alice: Finally, another relationship we’re SHOWN and allowed to enjoy as it progresses - both in flashbacks and in the present day. BLESS.

Wish Hook and Jack/Nick: Here’s the thing. Nick is introduced to the show in S7 before the ten year jump to when the curse is cast. And he’s shown still with the group at Lucy’s tenth birthday party - and is obviously caught up in the curse itself. So that’s over ten years that Hook knew Jack in the New Enchanted Forest. Regina, fully awake in Hyperion Heights, tells Lucy that her father (Henry), Rogers (Hook) and Nick (Jack/Hansel) were like the three Musketeers back in the fairytale world and convinces her to set up a “guys night out” for them. The focus of this is, of course, on Henry’s relationships with Hook and Nick, but from Regina’s comments and the fact that all three men are set up to hang out together as a trio, we can assume Hook and Jack were good friends. As usual, we’re subtly TOLD the man has a friend… and left to fill in the blanks for ourselves :P

Wish Hook and Zelena: This is another subtle one. When Zelena shows up in the New Enchanted Forest looking for her daughter, she’s not that friendly to the Hook she finds there. In fact, she dismisses him outright and tells him to piss off. But he stands up to her, sticks with her, manages to even impress her a little… and ultimately helps save Robin’s life (and Zelena’s). By the end of the episode they share, Zelena is obviously warming up to the pirate - and when Kelly encounters him in Hyperion Heights, her fondness for him is visible in spite of the danger she’s in and his own obliviousness (”It’s Detective, actually…”).

Wish Hook and Robin: Obviously, they’re going to have a familial relationship once Robin and Alice get married, but it’s obvious from the show that they both have deep feelings and great respect for each other already. Hook, thinking he’s on his last legs and going to die soon, takes it upon himself to ask Robin to look after Alice when he’s gone. That denotes a great trust and affection for her. And, similarly, Robin respectfully asks for his blessing (what was once customary is, in Robin’s more modern generation, considered old fashioned and unnecessary) and insists that she will do whatever it takes to keep him alive to see their wedding. This exchange shows us a lot of warm feelings between them.

Rogers and Tiana: These two are even sweeter than her beignets. And unlike some of the subtle friendships he’s had, this one’s a little more obvious.

Wish/Hook and Rumplestiltskin: Just when you thought it was safe to get trapped in a snowglobe with your arch nemesis… This one was just bizarre, really. After literally years in real time and centuries of show time being SHOWN how much these two hate each other… the show decided to TELL us in S7 that, actually, they were the closest thing the other one had to a friend that whole time. Sure, Jan. I try to murder all of my friends multiple times, as well as trying to make them (and their loved ones) suffer as much as possible. Some people love the twist, some people hate it… but in either case, it’s just WEIRD.

Ships I Left Off: I’m gonna be honest here. As much as I enjoyed Robin Hood and Hook’s scenes together, I never really bought them as being the best of friends. They seemed more like acquaintances to me, and I think the fandom colored them as besties based more on the friendship of the actors than on the actual canon content of the show. And even though Elsa and Arthur both spent episodes “adventuring” with Hook and he obviously grew to (or just did) like both of them, I don’t really feel like either of those led to lasting friendships that persisted beyond the “buddy adventure” episode they shared. I also left off crack ships and any ships that are entirely fanon creations.

So! In closing, I’d like to contend that it isn’t so much that Killian Jones needs more friendships… THE SHOW JUST NEEDED TO LET US SEE THE ONES HE’S FREAKING GOT.

Thanks for coming to my TED Talk.

[rohobi]

Pulse 03 | (m)

Kim Taehyung | Medical AU |  Smut | Angst | Trauma | Patient death | Medical Jargon | Medical Inaccuracies | Mature Content | Multi-fandom Medical Team |

COUNT: 8k Words  CHAPTER SUMMARY: ❝There are wounds that never show on the human body that are deeper and more hurtful than anything that bleeds.❞ LISTEN ▶ 

↳ INDEX → CHAPTER 4

↣ SEOUL HEARTS HOSPITAL | Dr. Kim Taehyung

Changing into a new pair of blue scrubs in the bathroom, Taehyung asks himself at which point did everything in his life go wrong. He was so tired. So fucking tired and so fucking unhappy and so fucking miserable. He’s been hiding it behind a smile, burying it deep within him.

A pain like no other. 

He scrubs his face with a cleanser he thinks belongs to Dr. Yoongi, hoping that it might make him feel grounded in something other than misery. But no matter how hard he scrubs, the feeling’s still there. 

Like scum.

Patting his face dry with a white face cloth, he takes a deep breath. It might as well tattoo itself across his face, nothing could take it away. Sadness made its home in his bones a long time ago and now he was living with the consequences of it.

The memories of a happy life he once had, grew into shards of glass over time, cutting him up in the inside. Why can’t he go back to that time? Why can’t he be that person he was? Why does he feel so damn guilty all the time when he was just trying to be a good son for a mother who’s on her way out? 

The wounds he sustained, ripped open at every reminder of you, are his worst enemy to date. He wonders if his mother’s aware that everytime he smiles, the ingenuity of pretending to be happy tastes like rotten fruit on his tongue.

He could never be happy again, as neurotic as that sounds, he doesn’t think he deserves to be. 

He hates himself.

Staring at his face in the mirror, he takes another deep breath as he stands up straight. He adjusts the lapels of his pristine white coat while brushing his teeth with his other hand. At least he enjoyed his job, the patients were usually older adults who reminded him of his grandmother, it was nice being around people who liked him. Lots of broken bones.

It was ironic, a doctor who could mend broken body parts for other people, lived uncomfortably with a broken heart.

One he broke himself.

One he could never mend on his own. Taehyung wondered if he would get any category one acute surgeries tonight. He loved the cases from ED. Traumatic neck of femur fractures -the greater trochanter fracture in particular were fun, he enjoyed being the specialist whenever he ran down. He loved the spinal injuries and the tibial fractures, knees and shoulders.

Bones. He loved them. It was the best distraction from life that he knew. Taehyung had always been really interested in Emergency Medicine but he could never do it, knowing it was your speciality and knowing you’d never want to see him again. 

He tried to respect that, he tried to respect the distance you wanted but sometimes, he just wants to know if you're okay. If you're happy. If you're loved. If you ever kept his child. If someone took up the space in your life that he used to. He's too afraid to act on those curiosities, to cowardly to come forth, too ashamed in himself for letting people control him, too ashamed for never standing up for himself, too afraid of the consequences his family offered if he did not follow their orders. He was a coward. Rinsing his mouth out, he frowns at himself in the mirror. This was the real him, the real Taehyung, the real person who never put up a pretence, someone who was unhappy and in pain every single day. But who else wasn't in pain. He adjusts the red, blue and green pens in his front coat pocket and wraps the bright red stethoscope from his pocket, around his neck. He turns the light off before closing the door behind him. Checking his pager, he clips it on to the waistband of his pants before pushing through the doors with his shoulder. Dr. Yoongi, Taehyung’s bestfriend, waits in the hallway for him with a coffee and an apricot danish for Taehyung. “Morning loser,” Yoongi says, handing him a bag and a coffee, “Got you a coffee that resembles your taste in woman.” "Morning? It's like 8pm," Taehyung smiles, sipping the bitter tasting beverage. “Yuck, Yoongi, my taste in women is not bitter.” Yoongi smiles. “You know, she called me last night, told me you hadn’t come home in a month, that true?” Sighing, he rolls his eyes. “I sent over the divorce papers, I’m only going back there if it’s to pick up those signed documents.” “Sounds about right,” Snorting, Yoongi wraps his arm around his shoulders. “You’ll finally be free from her? How do your parents feel about letting you loose?” “I haven’t told them yet,” Taehyung looks away from Yoongi, gesturing to start walking to work. “I’m pretty sure they’ll disown me. Anyway, enough of that, ready for a good night?” “Sure, we’ll talk about it later," Yoongi sips his own coffee. "I’m more than ready for a good shift actually. I've slept for 12 hours. Had to lecture the new guppies about social hierarchy yesterday, I swear they get loopy when they have rotations at Forest Lake. What are they putting in the water that makes them dumb?” “I don't know, whatever you’re drinking,” Biting into his pastry, Taehyung smiles wickedly at the blonde boy as he marches down the clean white hallway towards the Orthopaedic medical doctors office.

* * *

They stand in the office, preparing to do rounds on the ward. Taehyung’s looking at the list of patients he needs to visit experiencing post-operative delirium and constipation. He has students working with him tonight and Taehyung was fully prepared to dump his workload on them for “experience”.

Yoongi is signing discharge letters for patients leaving in the morning, writing prescriptions for pain relief and documenting orders for the morning nurses. The ward was quiet this evening, leaving a settled and peaceful evening for the nurses on shift but Taehyung wasn’t about to use the ‘q’ word in front of them.

“Shall we see our patients now?” Taehyung smiles, grouping up his 6 tired orienting medical students. “Why are you looking at me like that guys? Doctors rounds are fun and educational.”

“At this time?” One of his students snort laughs. “Not on this ward, it’s just old people-

-shut up Taemin,” a short girl says, she crosses her hands over here chest, rolling her eyes at the boy as she does. “You’re being disrespectful. Dr. Taehyung, please lets visit our patients. Quicker we can do this, quicker we can go home,” Younggi smiles up at him, “And I’d personally really love to see their progress.”

“Jesus Christ,” Yoongi curses under his breath. "Fucking brown noser."

The student ignores Yoongi as she stares back down at her black leather loathers.

“Every patient is your grandmother, try to think like that,” Hitting the top of Taemin’s head with his clipboard, Taehyung instructs a third student to push the trolley of patient files with them as all 6 students follow him down the ward hallway. Taehyung discards his coffee in the rubbish bin on the way. “Okay, because I know you all want to go home and sleep, let’s work in a team. Sound good?”

They all smile. Walking over to the trolley, he gives each of them a patient file. “What do you want us to do with these?”

“There’s six of you, pair up,” he says, watching them look at each other in confusion. “One of you will be assessing and the other will be scribing. You have two patients each, remember to switch.”

Taehyung folds his arms over his chest, they all look at him scared. “Oh come on, when my best friend in med school was in third year, below all of you, she was diagnosing aneurysms and scrubbing in on operations and you guys can barely talk to a patient without crawling in on yourselves. Get a grip, all of you.”

“But ...without you?” Taemin asks. “Can we do that?”

“I’ve worked with all six of you this month. Closely and together as a group. You’ve all grown so much and I believe that you all will make exceptional doctors. Believe in yourselves?” he says, watching them all smile, “So, look at the patient files for five minutes before going in, be polite and think before you speak. If you can't answer their questions, use your confidence and come and get me. I hope that doesn't actually happen though because you all should know the answers. Go on now.”

They all smile at him, clearly happy with the assignment.

“God, Taehyung,” Yoongi groans from behind him. “You still do that? You treat them like babies. That's why they get dumb.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes as he watches the students head off to their retrospective patients. He’d given them all stable patients who had questions regarding the postoperative process. Nothing they can’t answer but it was always a confidence booster for his students and he loved seeing them go home happy.

“Yoongi, this is why I am the educator on this ward and you’re an asshole,” Taehyung picks out the last couple of folders before walking into the 4 patient room, handing one to Yoongi.

Yoongi sanitises his hands, pulling out his favourite black pen before following him in into the cubical.

Yoongi watches Taehyung sweeten up to the old lady covered in a mountain of blankets as he reads over her notes. “It’s lovely to see you again Dr. Taehyung, how are you?” she smiles, gazing up at Taehyung like he was the sun and she was the moon. Yoongi watches his little hands rub up and down on her purple, green and pink crochet blanket on top of her. “I’m better now that I have seen you,” he winks and she laughs softly. “I’m here to talk to you about your bowels. The nurses tell me you haven’t moved your bowels since the operation three days ago.” “Ooh my dear, a lady never does number 2 and tells,” She widens her eyes at him. “But yes, I have not. Those wicked nurses have been trying to get me out of bed, I’m just too old for this, doctor. It hurts too much.” Taehyung sits on her bed, cupping her hands. “They’re doing that for you. Exercise is good for recovery, especially since you’ve had a hip replacement. Quicker you’re up, quicker you can go home and be with your kittens.” “Oh is it?” she opens her mouth in a little ‘o’ that makes Taehyung giggle. "My kittens, oh I miss them terribly so." “Do you usually take medication for your bowels?” he asks and she shakes her head. “How about we try some?” She frowns. “I’m not taking any more of your pills doctor. I'm quite content with my remedies but the nurses won't let me take my herbal remedies and rubbing crystals. What can I do?” “Some of your remedies can have a dangerous effect on the medication we give you here, that’s why you can’t take them,” Unwrapping his stethoscope from around his neck, he smiles softly. “What about kiwifruit?" "What about kiwifruit?" “Kiwicrush. It’s a little shot of kiwifruit that helps you move your bowels, it's like a natural remedy, I assure you that it tastes very good,” he informs her, she nods hesitantly. “I’m going to listen to your stomach now, my stethoscope is a bit cold so don't be surprised okay?" "Okay," She nods again. "I'll try the fruit doctor." "Good, Yoongi please make a note of that," Placing the diaphragm of his stethoscope on her abdomen, he listens for any present bowel sounds. Yoongi draws a little picture of abdomen in her files as he examines her, watching Taehyung’s face for an answer. Taehyung frowns, shaking his head for Yoongi. Yoongi then draws a cross through it. Yoongi writes the prescription in her drug chart for kiwicrush and signs her notes before closing them and slipping out of the cubical to tend to the last patient in the room for him. “Everything okay?” she asks, a worried expression drawn across her face. “You frowned, am I dying?” “Oh don’t be silly,” Clasping her hands again, he smiles tenderly. “It’s just that I am a bit worried about your bowels at the moment, and getting you up seems to be the best option right now. I’m going to ask the nurses to give you some pain relief before getting you up tomorrow morning, just so it’s a little easier for you and then, I’m going to ask you to give it your best shot. Mobilising will be very good for your stomach Maurine.” “You sound like the nurse,” She laughs, smacking the top of his warm hand. “I’ll try for you. So, please, call me mama. I’m too damn old to be called anything else.” Standing up, he lifts the blankets up to her shoulders, making sure her toes are covered the way he knows she likes. He turns off the overhead light, leaving a small night light on for her. “Alright mama, you have a pleasant sleep, okay? I’ll see you in the morning.” She hums her response as she turns her attention to the window beside her. She stares at the moon with a gaze he can only describe as suddenly haunting as the soft hues of light accentuate an unspoken fear drawn across her face, something Taehyung feels uncomfortable about. “What are you staring at mama?” he whispers, following her gaze out the window. "Are you okay?" "I am okay for now," Standing by the window, he presses his hand to the cold surface as he feels the wind brush against the surface underneath his palm. She laughs softly under her breath from behind him. “It’s a full moon. The wolves are out howling for blood. I’d be careful on such an auspicious night Dr. Taehyung, who knows what might happen.” He turns back to her. “It’s always an auspicious night when one is in a hospital mama, anything could happen here too.” Leaving her cubicle, he pushes the hand sanitiser on the wall into his palm, rubbing the dollop into his hands as he walks down the hallway. “You know, the other patients call her a witch,” Yoongi says, walking beside him with the trolley, patient file on top as he hurries with writing the last note. “Her notes say that she chants under her breath at people, gave me the shivers reading it but you seem close with her, so good for you. If you get hexed, let me know.” “You shouldn’t talk about people like that Yoongi,” Taehyung laughs, walking towards the nurses station. “You’ll be the one hexed. So, what was that patient's primary concern?”

Looking back at the notes, Yoongi says. “Another patient needing laxatives. Typical for this ward. I don’t know why you don’t just prescribe laxatives post operatively anyway. Saves so much time.” Taehyung shrugs, leaning against the station. “I would if it were me doing it. It’s Dr. Minho. He thinks the best laxative is water and exercise.” Yoongi snorts. “He sounds out of touch with real patients.” “He’s a good doctor Yoongi.” “We’re all good doctors until we’re proven that we are not.” Settling in the nurses station, Yoongi starts nibbling at the cake the nurses left out, as Taehyung leans against the station. It was dark, the nurses had turned off the hallway lights so patients could settle to bed. The nurses station was empty as nurses eat their dinner in the fishbowl behind it. Their laughter flutters nicely out from their office into the long empty hallways. Taehyung’s ward was the only department in the hospital who did night doctors rounds. It was the only department in a rush to discharge people, shift them back home for recovery and it was good for student practice. “Dr Minho’s on tonight, floating between orthopaedics and urology by the way. You in ED tonight?” Taehyung asks, “I hear it’s been really busy down there.” “I’m the floater tonight,” Yoongi shakes his head. “We’ve got too many staff on down there. Too many damn know-it-all students too.” "Isn't that good though for the acuity?" he asks and Yoongi rolls his eyes. Looking over Taehyung’s shoulder, Yoongi sighs. "Speaking of the devils." The first lot of students walk towards Taehyung, file outstretched waiting for his signature to co-sign. “Younggi,” Taehyung says, reading over her exceptional penmanship. “Next time, just draw the lungs if you assess them. What is your plan? What do you want the nurses to do?” She smiles, looking at her partner. “Regular repositioning in bed, PRN asthma medications when symptomatic and lots of pillows for comfort.” "As if they aren't doing that already," Yoongi snorts behind Taehyung. "Your kids need to spend a week with the nurses, that'll make ‘em work." All the students arrive back and Taehyung reads through their notes, signing his name at the bottom. Congratulating them on their first lot of assessments. “Now, that is how we’ll do our night rounds from now on. In the morning however, it will be different. I will be assessing your assessment skills on morning ward rounds. One at a time, in front of all of us." They all groan. “Oh shut up, if you don’t like it, drop out,” Yoongi cackles, “You with the orange hair, put the folders back in the office and if you groan again, I’ll steal the muffin I saw in your backpack you had on earlier.”

Taemin, the boy with the orange hair, disappears to do so. "God," Taehyung says, yawning into the crook of his arm, "Why is it so settled tonight?" Yoongi laughs. "Trying to avoid the q word?"

"What's the q word?" a student asks. Know it all Younggi fills her in. "It means quiet, he's asking why it's so quiet tonight." Taehyung sinks against the station, dropping his head onto his hands, a loud groan falling from his lips as Yoongi leans up and smacks his head. "You didn't tell your stupid fucking kids not to say that word did you? Great." "Did I say something wrong Dr. Taehyung?" she asks, insecurity suddenly plaguing her usually confident demeanor. Taehyung stands up, turning to face her. "That word is a cursed word. We don't use it here."

"Oh. I'm sorry?" Re-emerging with his phone in his hand, Taehyung gasps loudly as Taemin walks towards him, face focused on his phone. He was 100% against students using phones on the ward at all times, often challenging them to stay engaged. “Taemin, you know the rules, I don't like phones on the ward- -you're gonna wanna hear this though. A code black has been triggered at Forest Lakes Hospital,” he looks up at the two senior doctors, suddenly pale faced. “My girlfriend’s a nurse there and she’s just texted me “FLH called a code black, it's not a drill, I am fine.” oh god.” "What's a code black?" one of the students asks much to the chagrin of the other students. "That some sort of medical emergency alarm bell?" Taehyung and Yoongi trade vacant looks. “What?” “It’s probably just a drill,” Yoongi says, picking his nails. “They always do them over there. They’re close to a military camp, lots of North Korean defectors get treated there. A code black is a bomb threat kids."  

Taemin looks up at Yoongi. “With all due respect, there is no way in hell that this is a drill. Look,” Turning his phone screen to Taehyung, a picture of ambulances rushing patients out, all wearing equally terrified facial expressions as they pile in the back of the trucks. “They’re evacuating people.”

“Are you sure you aren’t being pranked?” Younggi asks, hovering over his phone to check. Taehyung watches her double tap the picture, her face suddenly growing pale. 

“Doesn’t look like a prank does it?” Taemin whispers and they all watch her retreat back as she shakes her head. 

And then, all of their phones vibrate, pinging with texts, tweets and calls.

All 8 of them, pull out their phones.

Yoongi and Taehyung’s pagers go off. Ward phones start ringing. Grabbing his phone out of his coat pocket, Taehyung opens the first notification on the screen and the picture makes his heart stop; a wing of the hospital was on fire. A wing of your hospital was on fire. “Dr. Yoongi,” a nurse runs out, all the nurses following behind her. “Did you check your pager? Am I calling it in?” “Call it in please. Get your manager to remove all the patients in this ward. Orthopaedics is the mass casualty ward for this hospital kids. Whoever is the ward co-ordinator tonight in the nursing team, call all the other nurses, get them to come in immediately and cancel every single elective operation scheduled for tomorrow,” Yoongi says, reading his pager. "I want this ward cleared of patients within half an hour. I assume from the distance, patients will be arriving soon. So, let's do this quickly and properly according to your emergency protocol." “Why do we need to remove all the patients?” a student asks and Yoongi frowns at him. “Victims do better psychologically and physiologically where other victims are. Hence, why we need to get everyone out now and get the ward prepared for incoming patients.” “How many do you think we will get?” he asks again, his eyes widening in fear. Looking up to all the students and nurses pooling out from their office. Taehyung's hands suddenly begin to tremble by his side. “In this case, probably a lot.” “But you never know.” His heart begins to pound harshly against his ribs. Adrenaline surged down his body at the prospect of all those incoming patients; at the thought of you being in that building. “Text your families that you're okay.” Yoongi announces, pulling him out of his thoughts. Putting his pager in his pocket. Looking up to each and every nervous face in front of him, he grabs the department phone, immediately pressing the emergency number and holding it up to his ear. His hands are shaking but the only one who notices is Taehyung as a voice loudly screams into the receiver. Everyone in the room watches Yoongi's eyes widen and his head nod before hanging up again. "Fuck, it's real. All of you go, get ready. Remove these patients and clear this fucking ward right fucking now." "What about us?" Younggi asks, as the ward lights turn back on and nurses begin to frantically run around them. "What do we do?" “Text your families right now, none of you are going home tonight." ↣ FOREST LAKES HOSPITAL | Dr. Y/N The first blast hit the far west side of the hospital, where the VIP recovery ward was located, as you had run back into the dark and desolate, abandoned looking Emergency Department. You could smell the fire, you could even see it’s smoke boil up from the building in the northern windows of the ER. You ran harder. You were panting, completely solely running on adrenaline.

Your heart raced out of your skin as you looked in every room. In every bay. In every office. You were running completely on instinct and your instincts were telling you, someone was left behind. And you don’t leave people behind. No, not you. The force of the blast rumbled the entire floor, it was weak, a warning of what was yet to come and had you not been standing by an empty bed, it would have knocked you clean off your feet. Falling onto the white bed, plaster from the ceiling fell and the room seeped into darkness as the electricity completely cut out. No generator back up or anything provided you with a light to see in the dark either.

You coughed into your hand as you inhaled the plaster. 

“Hello, is anybody here?” you had screamed, coughing as you run through the hallway you’ve memorised by heart. “We don’t have much time, is anyone here?”

A voice muffled behind a door screams loud and clear out for you as they bang their fists on the hard wood. “PLEASE SOMEONE, I’M STILL IN HERE!” You were right. "HELP ME, I’M STILL HERE, OH GOD I’M STILL IN HERE, HELP ME PLEASE! DON’T LEAVE ME!” Running down another hall, you hear a terrified scream from behind the controlled drug room. Someone remained like you had thought, banging on the door for their dear life. The door shook from the sheer force of their desperation to get out but the lock made it impossible to break free. “I’m still here,” they sobbed, banging on the other side of the door, “Please save me.” You don’t think as you run towards it, punching in the code for the room and forcing the door open with all of your might. The doctor on the other side had tears down his face, falling straight into you. It was Jungkook. Idiot doctor and housemate, your Jungkook. "Y/N," he sobbed, looking completely broken. "I thought I was going to die." “Well, I’m glad you’re alive and all but we need to go, right now." He looked distraught and terrified, but of all, he looked relieved. Grabbing his hand, you run with every inch of strength you can muster out, of that goddamn building. He holds your hand tightly, practically dragging you as he runs faster, jumping over shattered glass and plaster. 

You hold images of Sunny in your mind as you pick your feet up. You hold the sound of her laughter and her cries, her singing, her screaming. You think of Taehyung, his smile, his embrace, his warmth. You think of a life you still think you can have. You think of punching Taehyung in the jaw when you see him next, you couldn’t die today knowing you haven’t. No, not today satan.

You run towards the clearing. And the automatic doors... ...they don't open. “What the fuck, why won’t they open?” you ask, waving your hand up to the monitor. “Fuck, I thought these would open in an emergency?” Jungkook bangs against the glass. Jimin and Seokjin look up, prompted by the loud banging. Ramming his shoulder into the glass, it doesn't budge. He throws everything close to him at the doors, again, it doesn't budge. They’re stuck. Irene holds back the boys from running over to help you. They had parked on the far end of the carpark to be safe as they waited. You both stare at the red lights of the ambulance in the night. “We need something heavy to smash it.” you say, “We’ll get out, don’t worry.” “How can I not fucking worry?” Jungkook shouts, throwing himself at the glass doors. “It’s just fucking glass, why won’t it break?” “It’s shatterproof material Jungkook.” Looking for an emergency button on the doors and falling short, “I’m going to find the emergency axe thing Jungkook, keep trying to pry it open okay?” 

You were certain that there was an emergency axe somewhere, you had seen it before and wondered if you'd ever need to use it and for what. Slipping on blood, you fall to the floor as the ground continues to shake beneath you. "Where is it, come on Y/N, think." Getting up again, you run to the hallway leading off to the operating theatres and that's where you find the axe, contained in a glass box, nailed to the wall by a fire extinguisher. Punching the glass, it's splinters piercing your knuckles, you grab the axe. You were certain that when this adrenaline stops fuelling your attempts to survive, everything is going to hurt. But you don't have time to think about that as you run back. Jungkook's running into the doors, kicking and screaming at it, continuously bruising his shoulder. “I’m not dying in this fucking building.” "Jungkook," you shout, he turns, eyes glinting in happiness at the sight of the axe. "I have no strength, you smash it." He takes it happily, immediately hacking at the door. "I need to get out." he chants, each time the axe hits the doors. "I'm not dying today." The axe cracks the glass but it doesn't shatter like you thought it would. He hits it again and again, only cracking it. “What the hell is this fucking thing made of?” "Jungkook," Turning to survey your area, you grab anything hard enough to throw through the glass. "Jungkook, move out of the way." "What?" He turns, watching you throw a vital signs machine straight into the cracked glass with a strength you didn’t think you had, shattering it completely. He watches in slow motion as the glass shatters and falls to the linoleum floor. He screams happily as he throws the axe into the reception to their left. He grabs your hand as you run over the ocean of glass pooling onto the sidewalk as you both run into the carpark. The ambulance was so close, yet so far away. The fresh air hits your lungs as you breath it in and then out. You were free. You would be okay too. 

Jungkook turns to you, smiling widely at you. “I’m free!”  "Kim Seokjin! Park Jimin!" you scream, running towards them, "Open the back doors!" But they never hear you, and that you are grateful for because what happens next would've definitely hurt him too. 

The second blast hit as you were running out of the building with Jeon Jungkook. The force of this blast, much bigger than the first, had thrown you in the air and onto the soft grass by the car park, metres away from the now swaying ambulance, winding you. Jungkook had fallen onto the hard concrete pavement of the carpark beside you, hands falling on shards of broken glass, blood dripping from his forehead. He screams in agony, feeling the bone of his arm break and tear through his skin on impact.   Black coloured smoke rushes out of the burning building, covering you and Jungkook in a cloak of silent darkness. It chokes you, filling your lungs with it’s painful toxin as you try to breathe. Jungkook looks at you, expression pleading, lips moving to form words you can’t understand. Everything is blurry and dark and deep and your falling into yourself as black spots fill your visual field. You can’t hear anything but a loud ringing in your ears, you can hear the faint scream of Jungkook at the back of your brain but you can't process what he's saying. He looks at you desperately, is he hurt? That's a stupid question. You know you should get up but you feel compressed, stuck to the ground, and you can’t breathe, feeling winded as though your lungs had lost their ability to take in oxygen. You try to get up, falling back to the ground. Were you hurt too? You look over to Jungkook again, watching him battle his demons, forcing himself to get up and to you. You watch as if it were in slow motion as Jungkook pulls himself up, rushing over to you as he cradles his left arm in his now dirty white coat. There’s a god awful whirlpool of horror in his brown eyes as he runs over to you, you may have saved him but he definitely earned it because he saves you right back. You pull yourself up as much as you can before his arm wraps around your waist, holding you up as you both run to the ambulance. You look back at the building, still standing with flames and smoke boiling out the windows. You knew it wouldn’t last long until it collapsed or forced to the ground by another and much larger explosion. You didn’t want to be here for that. Blood dripped from your ears and down the sides of your soot covered face, building materials you couldn’t identify laced through your hair, shards of glass embedded into the skin of your arms. You felt like you had been punched in every soft part of your body. Jungkook looked equally as dishevelled. Waving you both over, Jimin and Irene rush you both into the back as Seokjin revved the engine. Minutes pass of complete silence as you rush. Isn’t that weird, after something so huge, there was just silence? No piercing screams, no sirens, no pleas for help, just fire, fear and silence. Pulling themselves in first, Irene and Jimin sit opposite each other, strapping themselves in.   The third blast hit when you were trying to close the doors behind you. The blast wave hit the truck, pushing you into the back of the truck, shattering the windows, prompting Seokjin’s immediate acceleration as Jungkook toppled straight on top of you.  

The glass from the window narrowly missed the intubated patient on a stroller in the middle of the ambulance, but it cuts across Irene's cheek, something she'll probably need stitches for. She wails in agony, holding a hand against her cheek, immediately applying pressure to the wound as dark red blood dripped down her neck and onto her scrubs. 

Jungkook was afraid of letting you go, and for that, he saved you again. The doors slapped against the sides of the ambulance as Jin speed through the carpark and as far away from the hospital as he could. You wrap your arms around Jungkook’s waist tightly as he held onto anything that would keep you both in the ambulance as it sped away. His dead arm curled up painfully against your chest underneath him as Jin's abrupt driving makes you swing underneath him towards the other side of the truck causing shards of glass to tear through your coat as you do. You scream in agony, feeling the shards slice and embed into the flesh of your ass. It’s sweltering, a burning pain filling you by waves as it rolls over you, over and over again. You were hurt everywhere. 

"Are you okay Y/N?" Jimin shouts at you. You clasp onto Jungkook tighter, eyebrows flexed as pain tears through your body. “Hold onto him, we’ll get you out of here!” Jungkook sobs, wailing in pure agony. The sound breaks Jimin as he watches, the once strong Jungkook, completely break and fall apart.   "It's collapsing!" Irene shouts and you all look back to watch in horror as the sound of destruction echoes across the night sky. "The hospital. Our homes. You guys could've ...that was so close." she sobs loudly, feeling the horror of what could've been you two so deeply into her bones. “Drive faster,” Jimin screams, hitting the back of the front seat. Jungkook and Irene watch the orange flames burst from black clouds of smoke, as the hospital collapses from the emergency exit they just left, “Drive fucking faster Seokjin!” He presses his foot on the accelerator with sirens blasting and red lights flashing through the graphite night as he zips away. “I’m driving as fast as I fucking can!” Irene screams when he skids around a corner, her head hitting the wall hard as he drives straight through the car park entrance sign. The sound was like nothing she had ever heard before when she looks to her right, the once dark night now full of orange light as the fire boils and consumes her home away from home. It was haunting, something Irene would never forget. 

They had only just gotten away from the building in time when fire began to rain down onto the trees, there would no doubt be a forest fire too. Everyone would be working overtime tonight. “Irene, are you okay?” Jimin asked, watching her rub the back of her head. She pulls her hand back, fingers covered in blood. Grabbing one of the only packets of gauze from beside him, he clears his throat. “Hold these to your head and hold on tight to your chair okay? We’re going to be fine.” She pants, biting her bottom lip. “Are you sure?” Jimin looks at everyone in the ambulance, he doesn't think he should dignify that question with a response, you were all safe now. “Go, Seokjin! Get us out of here!” Jungkook yelled, as he sunk his head into the crevice of your neck. “Get us to the hospital!” How you both hadn’t died was a mystery. Irene and Jimin pull you both further in by the collars of your coats, dragging your glass covered bodies further into the ambulance when Jin drives over a bridge, forced to slow down. "Irene, grab Jungkook," Jimin says, watching her pull Jungkook up beside her, strapping him into the seat. Pulling you up, he forces you into the seat beside him as he sobs. "Y/N, I've got you. You're okay now, you're okay now." He holds you close, telling you something you can’t hear but he's crying and he's crying hard. He looks like a wreck. 

Holding your hands up to his checks, you wipe away his tears only to smear blood and soot across his face, he leans into your warmth. At least the sentiment was there. “Jimin, I have no idea what you are saying,” you think you shout, dropping your hands and leaning against him. The blood dripping down your right ear stains his green scrubs. “The barotrauma ...I think I have a ruptured eardrum in my right ear. Left feels like it’s resolving. I can only just hear you kind of.” He nods, red eyes sweep over yours. “I’m very glad you’re safe” he mouths and you smile softly up at him, glad you are too. Jimin hands you a bottle of water as he pulls out the first aid kit to attend to the cuts on your face. "Call Yoongi, tell him you're okay. I know he's probably worried." Jimin smiles, lips quivering. "I did, he was scared, still is I bet. The phone cut out during the second explosion, I'm just going to have to wait to see him at the hospital." "What? I can't hear you? Did you call him? yes or no?” Jimin nods, gesturing for you to drink the water. You looked worse for wear with your bloodied and blackened white coat; ripped, crimson stained scrubs; messy hair tied in a loose ponytail; and soot covered face but you were okay.    You were feeling okayish. Drinking the water, you sag against him. Jimin dabs your fingers, brushing his fingers over your pulse, completely thankful you still had one. You look out the ambulance window to see your hospital, the once tall white and green structure, up in flames. All those years of hardwork, patients you’ve saved, lives you’ve lost, friends you’ve made, memories you’ve cherished. All gone. Seemingly in the blink of an eye.

You suddenly want to cry. 

Today wasn’t a normal day at all. As you drink the last of your water, you feel your left ear pop and then you hear the unmistakable sound of the ambulances sirens and Irene shouting at Jungkook and Jimin shouting at Seokjin to update the hospital. You could hear and you wish you couldn't. Everything happened at a lightening speed, as though it all occurred within the single blink of your eyes. Seokjin pulls out the radio, bringing it to his lips as he speeds through the intersection, sirens blazing. “Seoul Hearts hospital, this is Ambulance 22 Kim Seokjin speaking. We are currently enroute to your facility with a 32 y/o male motor vehicle accident victim from Forest Lakes. Patient is unconscious, intubated and-

-yes, we came from Forest Lakes," he stops, listening attentively to the voice on the other end that you can't quite hear. "Mass casualties ...how many have you already got?" "32?!" he shouts, "We'll you're about to get three more- He then scoffs into the radio. “Don’t interrupt me. I have nurses Park Jimin and Bae Irene, Drs. Jeon Jungkook and Y/N who are injured- “Yes, I know the hospital has just blown up, I’m looking at it in my rearview mirror right now, we have two injured doctors in the back of the ambulance as well! Possible internal trauma, possible broken extremities,” he snaps, frustration ebbed into his voice, “We are unable to take current accurate vital signs of the patient and the doctors but our patient is unstable as hell. I'll update you if things change. See you in 5 minutes.”

He slams the radio back down. “Buckle up kids, we’re driving through the city now. Y/N,” Seokjin shouts from the front, “You good?” You nod, feeling your hearing fully come back in your left ear. “I think so?” "Good, you crazy fucking bitch, don’t you ever fucking do that again or I’ll cut your legs off." You're all staring out the back of the ambulance, watching the reactions of the public move out the way for Jin and gape at the very mangled up looking ambulance. It's almost a spiritual experience being in this position, having people responsibly move out of the way for you as you zip impossibly fast through red lights and traffic. "How's the patient doing?" you turn and ask Jimin, who had been watching you the entire time. His face pale. "What’s his vitals looking like?" "What?" Jimin shakes his head, forcing himself back into reality. "Um, I haven't checked. Hold on." You watch his heart monitor, the vital sign of life beat after beat after beat. You frown at a particular beat as it moves. "His hearts not looking too good," you point out. "It's not often but his hearts skipping a couple beats." "After everything, I would expect that too. We're just lucky he hasn't got a serious cardiac illness otherwise, he's fucked." Jimin says, shifting beside you. You watch him try to breathe. It was an insidious reminder of your responsibility to save this man. He was dangling by threads, he was so close to death. You look away from the numbers on his screen. You stare at your soot covered hands. That could’ve been you. “Seokjin,” you shout, “How far away are we from Seoul Hearts?” “A couple of minutes,” he shouts back at you, “You don’t need to shout at me you know!”

“I can’t hear anything well,” you say, pointing to your ear and the dried blood around it. “I think the blast burst my right eardrum.” Irene laughs suddenly, smacking her thigh. “I hate to laugh but consider yourself lucky it was just that. When you ran back in, I didn’t think we’d see you again. Jimin ...he-” “I thought I lost you,” Jimin interrupts, not wanting to relive those moments of his life. “You’re stupid but you’re incredibly brave saving Jungkook like that. How did you even know he was in there?” “I had a feeling someone was still in there, that’s just it,” you nod, looking over to Jungkook. The boy looked frightened as hell. “He would’ve saved me too, that’s for sure.” Jungkook stays silent, eyes wide as he tenses his jaw. You watch him cradle his arm, was he hurt? Jimin looks at him, shaking his head. “She saved your life Jungkook, you could’ve died back there. Why do you consistently and constantly go against your superiors instructions? What is wrong with you- -I got locked in the drug room!” he shouts back at Jimin, “It locked behind me when Namjoon asked me to clear it, she only found me because I was screaming for my fucking life. You think I don’t already know that I could’ve died back there, I know okay! I know it very well. I called my parents while I was holding a vial of fucking ketamine, I apologised for being a shit, I told them that I was locked in a room and that I was going to die. You think I wanted to hear my mother cry?” “Jungkook,” Jimin musters, unsure what to say, “I’m sorry, I- “-I was going to swallow it, you know. With the first sign of fire, I was going to kill myself. My girlfriend ...all I could tell her was that I was sorry that I loved her… I could’ve died back there, I could’ve seriously died back there.” Jimin crosses his arms over his chest. "But you didn't because she ran back- -and saved my life." Jungkook finishes. “Oh shut up both of you,” Irene shouts, “Pick up your damn phone and tell your family, you didn’t die already. Who knows what they’re doing thinking you’re dead. Hell, if I loved you, I would be driving out here right now to try and get you out.” “Seokjin,” You ignore their discussion as you gaze back at your patient. “Are we close?” “I’m driving as fast as I can with my sirens on, Y/N,” he shouts back clearly agitated, “Just focus on monitoring your patient. And Jimin, shut up and please Irene, fucking deal with Jungkook’s arm instead of pissing him off. It looks bent as fuck from the rear-view mirror. The kid is obviously hurt psychologically and physically, stop being assholes and be compassionate.” “You’re hurt?” Irene gasps, her voice now dripping in sympathy. Her bloodied fingers reach out for him. He lets her tender touch explore the mangled arm from underneath his coat. “It’s broken. How did this happen?” You snort. “Besides the hospital blowing up and the waves that were emitted from the explosion travelling at a supersonic velocity straight through us, throwing us in the air with all that glass and onto hard concrete and debris?” “I fell on it,” he says, watching Irene open up the bag on the floor. She nods her head. “You hurt anywhere else?” He shakes his head, letting her dab the wounds on his face with saline and gauze. It’s quiet again as she works his wounds, there’s not much she can do with his arm trapped in his coat like that, he’s just going to have to wait. Irene hands Jungkook her phone to call his family before finishing up on his wounds.  Jungkook dabs her cheek with some gauze. Everyone was hurt in different ways but they were alive. 

The ambulance grows silent when Jungkook sends the group text to his parents and to his girlfriend. 

Jimin fusses over your knuckles, his mind on fire with residual grief and anger over your stupidity and bravery.  But you were okay. For now.

* * *  

Jungkook stares at the face of your patient.

He filters through the faces he knows, the patient’s he’s treated before leaning forward to look at his wrist band. “Oh it’s this guy, oh man, didn't think he'd come back,” he says, looking up at his cardiac monitor carefully, scrutinising every wave of his heart beats, “Y/N, are you aware that your patient has a past cardiac history?”

“Yes, angina pectoris,” You nod your head, pointing to his monitor as Jimin cleans your arms, “Are you worried about those PVC’s (heart skipping a beat) too? He's post motor vehicle accident, fucked himself up pretty bad. He needs surgery pretty much as soon as we get to Seoul Hearts.”

“Angina?” He frowns, prompting Irene to swap places with him beside the head of the patient. “He doesn’t have Angina, I have a photographic memory, I would’ve remembered that. He had an acute myocardial infarction a couple weeks ago and he hasn't been compliant with his medication-

-what!” you shout, interrupting him, commanding the attention of the truck as you dart your eyes into his. “This patient's had a heart attack before? That wasn’t in his medical files at all when he came in. That’s pretty fucking important information. Jimin,” you turn to the boy. “Did you get a history from the family?”

Jimin shakes his head. “Didn’t have time with the code. They still don't even know he's a patient.”

“I can see Seoul Hearts Hospital now, we’re about 2 minutes away.” Jin says, but you’re heart is racing hard against your ribs now. It’s like a dose of adrenaline and you suddenly feel so awake.

“If what I am thinking has happened, this patient probably crashed his car because he had chest pain. Irene,” your voice is shaky, everyone in the ambulance detects the urgency in your voice. You forget about the bomb. “Did you get any cardiac biomarkers from the bloods you took?”

“The ones that detect heart muscle death?” Her eyes widen as she tries to remember, clearly put on the spot as everyone looks at her. “Oh my god. I think so, like almost ...almost immediately but Dr. Namjoon came in before I got to ...I didn’t have time to check exactly.”

“What were they, do you remember? It’s okay, take your time. It’s important to remember which ones there were.”

She closes her eyes and Jungkook resets the vital monitor to get an accurate reading. “He’s hypotensive with ventricular dysrhythmia,” he says, printing the ECG out. He grabs the pen from his pocket as he reads the rhythm carefully. “Was it troponins T and I Irene? Do you remember a T?” She opens her eyes, pursing her lips at him. “I think it might’ve been but I don’t remember- -Y/N, his heart rate is 165, blood pressure is 80/40. I think he’s in cardiogenic shock,” Jimin cuts in. “Vitals are crashing.” "Good timing." you slap yourself. 

“Fuck the bloods. Holy fuck,” Jungkook circles a portion of the rhythm, spotting an ST-elevation in the electrocardiogram (heart attack), holding it up to you as Seokjin drives. “He’s having a fucking heart attack right now Y/N.” “What do we do?” Irene asks. You look back at his cardiac monitor seeing it clear as day now that the patient's heart rhythm goes from erratic to nothing. "HES ARRESTING," Jimin shouts, pulling you out of your gaze. "He’s going into cardiac arrest Seokjin!!“ “This can’t be fucking happening right now. Jimin, we need the defibrillator he needs defibrillation immediately. We need an epi?! Wheres the adrenaline?” You shout, unsure if you could jump straight onto the patient with the door open like that. It looked dangerous. “The ambulance isn’t stocked, there isn’t one in here,” Seokjin shouts from the front, “You’re going to have to do chest compressions until we get there but fuck, it could be dangerous for you with the door open so be careful.” “I’ve got this,” You close your eyes. "I can save him." “Jimin, ambu bag, right now. Get on the resps." Without hesitation, you get out of your seat as Jin turns, to straddle the patient. Holding your arms straight, you press the heel of your palm on his lower sternum, compressing it in a steady rhythm with your interlocked hands, one on the other. You hear a couple cracks almost immediately. "Irene, are you sure we don’t have any adrenaline in that bag?” She tips the back out onto the seat looking for a little vial, it all flies out the ambulance anyway. “There’s no medication in here, so no we don’t.” Jimin gently squeezes the ambu bag twice. "We're nearly at the hospital, I can see it out the window now." “Beginning ...30 compressions to 2 breaths. Jimin watch me closely," you say, feeling your own heart rip through your ribcage. "Seokjin radio report change in status.”  “Will do,” he shouts, pulling down the radio to call it in. “Hi, this is Seokjin, incoming ambulance from Forest Lakes we have a cardiac arrest in progress in the back of our truck, prepare for defibrillation on arrival in less than a minute.”  “25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30. Resps!” Perspiration drips down your dirty face as you pause your chest compressions, turning to the two to the left of you. “Irene and Jungkook prepare to wheel me out of this ambulance and in to that fucking Emergency Department. No one is dying on my watch, not if I can help it.”

Jungkook and Irene look at each other as the ambulance comes to a halt outside the Emergency Department at Seoul Hearts Hospital. Turning off the engine, Jin runs around the truck, pulling down the ramp and grabbing the end of the stroller.

You can ear the screams of agony inside the Emergency Department from here as doctors rush in bright yellow aprons, blue gloves and white face masks towards your truck. 

“Let’s go, get out Irene and Jungkook,” Seokjin yells, pulling the stroller towards him and down the ramp with Jimin shuttling beside it. “Let’s move team! Keep doing compressions Y/N and hold on tight.” 

[frenchibi]

for the fic questions: 22, 33, 47 and the title u get is "the trouble with cherries" (thank u predictive text at least it was intelligible)

From the Fic Writer Asks!! Thank u buddy :DD

22) Do you have a story that you look back on and cringe when you reread it?

 Not…really? I see a lot of my old writing (on ff.net under a different account, and original stuff too) as… pretty low-level, but nothing that didn’t help me get to where I am now, you know? It’s always a work in progress :D

33) What’s the biggest compliment you’ve gotten?

People have told me that my work is better than some books they have read, and that I could get published if I tried. People have told me they binge-read my entire fanfiction library. People have joined the fandom after reading my fics because they convinced them to ship a particular pairing.

Most importantly: I have written a lot about depression, and I have gotten several comments and messages from people saying they related to my words, or that reading my words helped them.

So… basically, I have been told that my work has impacted people’s lives, and I think that’s absolutely incredible.

47) Here’s a fic title. What would this story be about?

I’m taking the liberty to just run with this, yeah? :D

The Trouble With Cherries

The trouble with cherries is that they’re too small for the amount of seed that they carry. Why would something so delicious limit itself to such an inconvenient form? It’s almost like they don’t want to be eaten.

…well, maybe that’s the point.

To be honest, Tooru has been wondering this about Hajime as well.

He flicks a seed into his napkin and bites his lip.

Not about Hajime wanting to be eaten, per se (though maybe he has thought about that, in a figurative sense. Once. Okay, maybe more than once. Not the point), but about him connecting with people.

It’s not that he can’t make friends. He does. But it’s like he puts up a barrier that doesn’t let anyone get too close.

Or, well, what does Tooru even know. Maybe he does let people close now. New people. People Tooru only knows because Hajime casually mentions their names over takeout dinner, or when he’s telling Tooru where he’s going. Like Tooru’s supposed to know who they all are.

Well, he used to. Back when they shared a back yard, a classroom, a volleyball team. A group of friends.

Of course things were going to change eventually. Tooru knows this. But that doesn’t change that he’s bitter about it.

He plucks another cherry from the bowl that Hajime’s placed on the coffee table and proceeds to pry it apart with his fingernails. It comes open pretty easily, revealing red flesh and another oversized pit. Rude, really, that something so wasteful is so expensive.

He’ll have to thank Hajime for buying them, though. He knows Tooru’s always loved them.

And that’s it, isn’t it? Hajime always knows. He listens, he’s attentive, he remembers.

But about himself, he’s strangely closed off.

Sometimes Tooru wishes he could read his mind - but then he’s always somewhat glad that he can’t. Because really, he’s terrified of what he’d see.

What if Hajime isn’t putting on a show of disdain around Tooru when his antics get out of control - what if that’s really how he feels?

What if it’s not that deep, what if Hajime just really isn’t into making deeper connections? Or maybe he just hasn’t found the right person to do it with?

That thought makes Tooru want to smash something, honestly, because anyone with eyes could see that he and Hajime are a perfect match. If Hajime can’t talk to him, who else even is there?

…the answer to that question comes kind of unbidden and way too suddenly.

Of course there’s a girl out there that can crack open Hajime’s metaphorical shell.

Maybe he’s not a cherry, maybe he’s a coconut.

Maybe Tooru doesn’t know where he’s going with this analogy.

In any case, he doesn’t want to think about Hajime opening up to someone else. Obviously he has other friends - he’s always had other friends, and it’s never been a problem, because…

Well, because Tooru has always had a special position among those friends.

For a long time, being able to call Hajime his Best Friend had been enough.

Nowadays though?

Tooru picks up another cherry, this time popping it into his mouth immediately and pulling it apart with his tongue.

Not so much.

He’s come to realize that he’s not as nice a person as he wants to be.

Okay, that’s a lie. Tooru has never been a particularly nice person. But he considered himself a decent friend, and not exactly a bad person. Vindictive, yeah. Possessive, sure. But he’s also always just wanted Hajime to smile.

So, if someone did come along to whisk Hajime off into a world of sunshine and rainbows, and if that someone couldn’t be Tooru…

He wants to say that he’d smile and let it go.

But honestly, he’s not so sure.

The thought alone leaves him restless and unsettled, so much so that he gets up from where he’s been lounging on the couch.

He sighs, chewing around on the pit. A reckless part of his brain urges him to swallow it, but he ignores the thought and spits it out.

Because… that’s life, isn’t it? Ignoring the random, reckless ideas taking root in your brain and just trying to keep living.

It’d be crazy, if he just got up, walked over to Hajime’s room and told him that hey, I’ve been in love with you since middle school.

He could do it. He could do it right now. What a fucking stupid idea.

Or…

Or maybe it isn’t so stupid.

What’s the worst that could happen?

Hajime could be disgusted.

…but he wouldn’t. They’ve been friends for their entire lives. Something like this wouldn’t ruin it, right? Right?

Bullshit. Hajime will laugh at him, or leave, or take it as a joke - and Tooru is sure he can’t take that.

…on the other hand… at this rate, Hajime might just leave anyway. With whatever girl (or guy?) he’s seeing that Tooru doesn’t know about.

No, wait. He would have said something if he was dating someone. Surely.

Somehow, that question requires an immediate answer, and Tooru is already walking. Well, shit.

Before he can stop himself, he’s knocked on Hajime’s door.

“Yeah?”

Oh, shit.

He pushes the door open a crack, to find Hajime sitting at his desk, spun around in his chair to look over at him.

“What’s up?” he asks, eyebrows slightly raised. “Have you thought about what to have for dinner, or…?”

“Uhm.”

The question throws him a little, and Hajime frowns.

“What’s wrong?”

How does he immediately get that? Is Tooru really that easy to read…?

“Say, Iwa-chan… if you had a girlfriend, you’d tell me, right?”

Hajime blinks - and then he barks out a laugh.

“What on earth makes you ask that?”

Immediately, Tooru’s on the defensive.

“Nothing! Just- you don’t talk about yourself much. But… we’re best friends, right? You’d tell me?”

Hajime gets up out of his chair and walks over to him, his expression torn between bemused and concerned.

“…what’s going on, Oikawa?”

“Just answer the question!”

Hajime shakes his head. “I don’t have a girlfriend. Of course I’d tell you if I did. Why are you so stressed out all of a sudden?”

Tooru finds himself already backing out of the room again, mentally slapping himself for even opening the door in this stupid state of mind.

“Okay,” he says, like that’s all he wanted - but Hajime grabs him by the arm to stop him from walking away.

“Hey. You’re acting weird. Talk to me.”

“The cherries,” Tooru says. “Thanks for, uhm. For buying them.”

Hajime tilts his head slightly. “What? Oh, yeah. Sure.” He lets go of Tooru’s arm, but he still looks concerned. “Are you sure everything’s okay?”

In retrospect, he doesn’t know what makes him do it.

Maybe it’s the loss of warmth when Hajime unclasps his hand, or the look of confusion and honest concern in his eyes, or the fact that from here Tooru can smell the deodorant Hajime always uses and it’s kind of fucking with his brain-

In any case, before he quite knows why, he finds himself saying: “What if you had a boyfriend?”

Hajime stares.

“What?”

Tooru clears his throat. “Uhm. If- if you had a boyfriend, would you tell me, too?”

Hajime exhales, and Tooru can’t place the expression on his face.

“…why wouldn’t I? It’s like you said. You’re my best friend.”

When Tooru doesn’t reply, he pushes the door open further and crosses his arms in front of his chest.

“…are you gonna tell me what this is really about?”

Something about that question really hits home.

Are you going to tell me what this is really about?

Are you ever going to tell me the truth?

It’s kind of like an earth-shattering realization, that that’s even a question that Hajime could ask-

But he could. And Tooru’s honest answer would have to be…

No.

No, because I haven’t told you the truth since grade 5.

I haven’t lied to you, I couldn’t - but I’ve done something just as bad.

I’m keeping a secret.

I can’t tell you, but-

Maybe I’ll need you to know.

In that moment, with that thought, suddenly his mind is clearer than it’s been in a long time.

He needs Hajime to know.

He wants him to know.

He’s terrified to tell him, but-

He’s only been thinking of the worst case - and that’s not the right way to go about it at all.

When they’re playing volleyball, he focuses on what’s needed to be done to win - not on what might make them lose.

If he obsessed about what might happen if they failed, they would never have gotten as far as they did.

No - when Tooru stepped onto the field, he didn’t think about losing. He thought about what winning would feel like - and then he lead his team to conquer.

Maybe the right question isn’t what if he’s disgusted.

Maybe it’s but what if he’s not?

Instantly, an image flashes up in Tooru’s mind - and another, and another, and another - pouring in like he’s opened some kind of mental flood gate.

Hajime, reaching over for a high five, to clap him on the back, to put his arm around Tooru’s shoulders.

Hajime, letting Tooru drape his legs over his lap when they’re sitting together, watching some stupid soap opera and making fun of the characters.

Hajime, lifting him out of his chair and chucking him down onto his bed with seemingly no effort at all, scolding him for staying up too late.

Hajime, in the door, holding up a bag of cherries with a grin on his face.

That smile he gets when he thinks Tooru’s not watching, the one that’s exasperated but fond and makes Tooru’s insides fucking melt.

“Oikawa. Hey.”

Hajime is waving his hand in front of Tooru’s face, eyebrows raised incredulously.

“You’re spacing out. Seriously, what’s going on? You’re kind of freaking me out here.”

Well.

This is happening.

“…I need to talk to you,” Tooru manages, taking a step back. Somehow he can’t handle Hajime’s intensity, and the concern in his gaze.

Christ, he needs to regroup or something.

“…okay?”

“Iwa- just give me a second,” he says, distracted as he tries to find the right way to go about confessing his love to his goddamn best friend. “You’re- you’re freaking out and that’s not helping.”

“You’re worrying me,” Hajime says, but he’s keeping his distance now.

Tooru covers his face with his hands, trying to just breathe before he accidentally starts screaming.

“Okay. Okay, listen. This- this is kind of a big deal, but- but it also doesn’t have to be, if you don’t want it to. God, did that even make sense? I’m- I don’t know how to do this.”

Hajime reaches out to him, but stops himself before he moves in too close and freaks Tooru out even more.

“Hey, hey. Breathe.”

Tooru drops his hands, forcing out a breath. Hajime is still looking at him with all this concern and fuck, Tooru wants to kiss him all over his dumb face.

“…whatever this is about,” Hajime says, and Tooru looks up at him, because how can he help it, “you need to calm down. I promise I won’t freak out, okay? You’re clearly stressed about something. Just tell me. I’ve known you since you were in diapers, I promise you can trust me.”

Tooru bites his lip because Hajime is literally perfect. What the fuck.

If anything, he deserves to know.

“…okay. So- I’ve had a crush on this guy. For like… literal years, okay?”

If Hajime is surprised that Tooru is gay, he doesn’t show it. Then again, he might have suspected. Maybe.

“…okay,” is all that he says, nodding.

“And I thought maybe I’d get over it, right? Because I don’t know if he would, or could like me back. And- and I couldn’t tell him because… because I didn’t want to change how he saw me.”

“…you’re friends with him, then?”

Tooru nods. “Y-yeah. And he's… he’s kind of really important to me.”

Hajime is crossing his arms again. “Okay. So… what do you want to do about it?”

God, he’s asking if Tooru wants his help.

Oh, god.

“I’m- I’m trying to tell him,” Tooru manages, and Hajime frowns.

“So what’s the problem?”

Tooru might laugh, or cry.

“He’s- god, he’s so- you’re so fucking dense Iwa-chan I swear to god- what I’m saying is- I’m trying to tell you-”

He’s pretty sure he’s blushing as red as those goddamn cherries, but it’s too late to go back.

“I fucking like you, Iwa-chan!”

And he has to get out of there, now.

Without thinking twice, he spins around and slams the door in Hajime’s startled face, darting across the hall into his own room.

This was a really, really, really stupid idea. How did he think he could stand in front of Hajime, and say all of that to his face? What on earth possessed him to do that? To upset the careful balance they’d been living?

The entirety of his inner monologue is holyshitholyshitholyshit - and then he hears Hajime laughing.

For a second, he’s too startled to move. He’s got his back against his own door, ready to hold it closed by force if Hajime tries to come inside and clarify - he’s said too much already. But laughter? Not what he was expecting.

His mind races - why the fuck is he laughing? What’s so fucking funny about the most embarrassing moment of Tooru’s entire fucking life? Why the fuck can’t he stop fucking swearing?

“Ohmygod, Oikawa-”

“SHUT UP,” Tooru yells, before he can stop himself, because really, he’s got to say something in his own defense, and Hajime is being so mean by laughing-

“Oikawa, open the door-”

“Stop LAUGHING!”

“I’m- ha- holy shit- Oikawa, please-”

He’s wheezing, choking, and Tooru wants the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

Hajime is knocking on his door, barely containing his laughter.

“Go away!”

Finally, he seems to catch his breath enough to speak.

“Come on- you can’t just say all that and then run away!”

“Forget it!”

He raps the door again.

“No way! Shit, Oikawa- is this the first time you’ve ever confessed to someone? ‘Cause you know, usually you wait for an answer…!”

“Stop fucking LAUGHING!”

“I’m sorry- I’m sorry, but this is ridiculous-”

Suddenly, Tooru is angry.

“Oh yeah? So my feelings are ridiculous to you?”

“What? No! Oikawa, listen to me-”

“Why? So you can make fun of me?”

Hajime slams his fist into Tooru’s door - definitely not a knock.

“No! You fucking moron, so I can answer you! You just told me you liked me, for crying out loud! Don’t you wanna know my response?”

Tooru considers this for a second.

“…I think I’d rather die in here, right now.”

Hajime sighs. “That’d be a shame though. I would’ve liked to see your face when I told you I feel the same.”

Tooru is on his feet and yanking the door open so fast he almost falls back over.

“You what?!”

Hajime stares at him, taken aback and slightly breathless.

Admittedly, it’s a good look on him.

He clears his throat, and he’s already reaching up to rub the back of his neck in that adorable, bashful way of his.

“Well… yeah.”

“…seriously?!”

Hajime licks his lips. “…yeah.”

Tooru takes a breath.

“Why didn’t you ever say anything, then?”

Hajime raises his eyebrows. “Why didn’t you?”

“…point taken.”

They stand there for a moment, neither of them sure what to say.

“…so.”

“So.”

“You- you like me.”

“And you like me.”

“Like… like-like. Right?”

Hajime rolls his eyes.

“…yeah.”

“…oh.”

“Oh?”

“…well, what do you want me to say?!”

Tooru realizes he’s being aggressive - defensive. Again.

“I mean- sorry. This is all a bit… confusing.”

Hajime manages a small smile. “…yeah, I get that.”

There’s another terrible, awkward silence.

“So-”

“…maybe we should… sit down? Talk about this?”

Of course. That’s a good idea. Of course Hajime would have a good idea.

“Uhm. Yeah. That sounds good.”

Neither of them move.

Hajime lets out a small laugh, breaking the tension.

“Hey. I’m still me. This doesn’t have to be so… uptight. We’re still us, right?”

Tooru clenches and unclenches his fists. “…yeah. Yeah, you’re right.”

“Okay. C'mon - you didn’t eat all the cherries, did you?”

He shakes his head, but doesn’t follow when Hajime starts making his way to their living room.

“…Oikawa?”

Tooru looks at the floor.

“…did you- did you really mean it?”

He doesn’t look up, but he sees Hajime step close to him, his socks near-silent on the wooden floor.

“Hey. Listen to me. Until you knocked on my door today, I thought I was gonna take this to the grave. You- you’re always out and about and you only notice half of the people who are, like, enchanted by you on a daily basis. I don’t think you realize how incredible you are - and I was sure it was only a matter of time before some girl snatched you up. I mean… not any girl, obviously, because you’re picky and difficult and honestly a huge pain in the ass-”

Tooru huffs, fighting back tears, and Hajime smiles. “…but I was sure that I’d have to give you up one day. I didn’t think about it too much, but… I was definitely afraid of it. But then… you said all that just now and… well. If you’re giving me a shot at this, I’m taking it.”

“…a shot at this?”

“…being with you. I mean, really being with you. Not just… this living-together thing.”

Tooru considers this for a moment, and realizes his efforts to not cry were absolutely futile.

“You were never gonna tell me?”

“…I was sure you’d find someone who matched you, and you’d be happy. I… didn’t see a reason to break that.”

Tooru lets out a wet-sounding laugh. “Not even for you to be happy?”

Hajime is still smiling that sad little half-smile, like he does when he’s saying something uncomfortable but true.

“I would have been. If you were.”

Tooru wipes at his cheeks with his sleeve, knowing full well that he’s still crying and it’s really no use.

“…you must love me a lot more than I love you, Iwa-chan,” he whispers. “I could never be that selfless. I… I was always afraid you’d leave me.”

Hajime raises his eyebrows. “Leave you? I don’t even know who I am without you, dumbass. You made sure of that.”

“Iwa-chan.”

“Yeah?”

“…Iwa-chan.”

Hajime smiles, and Tooru wants to fucking die.

“What?”

“I love you.”

A laugh, small and genuine.

“I love you, too.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

He’ll probably never stop crying, because this can’t be real.

“I love you,” he says again. “I love you.” Like a fucking broken record, because it’s the only thing in his mind that makes sense.

“I love you, too.”

“Promise?”

Yeah, he’s fucking done for.

“Promise.”

Wow this got fucking long I’m sorry lmfao I guess I might put this on ao3 as well xDD Anyway thank you for asking!!!

[cureforbedbugs]

The Death of Aeris

Before Aeris died, I'd never really experienced anything in media that, in retrospect, actually felt like a death feels.

I was in seventh grade when Final Fantasy VII came out. I'm not sure if people my age still talk about how it felt to play Final Fantasy VII in 1997 (I imagine there's probably a cottage industry of retrospectives, but I haven't looked). But at my school, at least, nothing compared to it in terms of its unique form of media reception until maybe the advent of season-length binge-watching. It's a mode in which everyone follows along at their own pace across a long-form media object over days and weeks, checking in to see how far ahead or behind they are from their friends, taunting when ahead, despairing when too far behind.

I imagine some book crazes are like this, but I never really experienced any of them firsthand. And certainly I can't think of any non-print media with that kind of long-term conversational oomph -- the subject of intense debate for weeks and even months -- that is at the same time very careful and tentative with some thoughtfulness put into other people's progress. We had the so-called "water cooler" shows that everyone was expected to have seen last night, but the sussing out of where everyone was a week or a month into gameplay was much different. It created a throughline of reporting and speculation that felt a bit more like gossip, or some shared conspiracy whose web was still hidden in its entirety.

I bring up that context because a few elements in how I reacted to Aeris's death, about a third of the way or so through Final Fantasy VII, might have been impossible had they not happened at that time and in that way. Perhaps the most important element in that regard was simply that I heard whisperings of that sort of event being possible, without experiencing the kind of full-on spoiler that is now a ubiquitous landmine in trying to figure out what different media are "about" without ruining the surprises.

Instead there was a sense of unease, an occasionally remarked upon twist that was coming up, and lots of conversation about whether one could tell it was coming or not, an almost vindictive knowingness from those who already experienced it -- "oh, you'll see." Because this conversation was only among my friends, it didn't take on the feeling being a microcosm of a fandom. We didn't really know anything about fandoms, not being particularly savvy online (in 7th grade I mostly trolled strangers in chat rooms and then giddily ran away, like a prank call, before looking up recipes for banana pancakes).

So the environment was not exactly like ruining a plot twist in a movie; it was more a sense that something was coming, maybe tonight, maybe the next night, maybe next week, and that when it happened, you'd know, and you'd never really see it coming, unless maybe you did (there were a few claims from friends further along in the game that they saw it coming, a claim I find hard to believe). And it would change everything.

It's that contemporaneous commentary on the ongoing action while also being inscrutably aware of something far off in the future that I think is very difficult to replicate now. There's too much information everywhere, too many ways to cut off or clarify that odd game of telephone that non-internet-based media fandom lent itself to in an era with lots of media in it but few ways to reliably learn about it without some prior knowledge. A bit like how other media -- horror movies, The Wire -- had to transform in the mid-2000's when the ubiquity of cell phone communication dried up older storytelling tropes that built suspense through patchy connections.

Because I was so persistently, if only mildly, ill at ease in the first half of the game, and because I had such a strong sense that something bad would happen, the cut scene in which Aeris is finally murdered had the kind of protracted, crystallized impact of a trauma, a sense that you're seeing something that was fated to happen and will always recur (in memory), and that, at this very moment, your brain is encoding a loop that will keep its jagged little hooks in you forever. I see Aeris in a pink dress, bent, seemingly in prayer, maybe a slight smile, and I see her being run through. I see my dad, defeated, on the side of the bed, and my sister is crying before he even has to say anything. (How did he put it?)

YouTube breaks my memory's imperfect telephone-game chain, and I see, watching the clip again for the first time in what must be a dozen or more years, that the animation itself is not nearly as crisp or as subtle as it is in my memory; the characters are chunky, polygonal, little better than the little moving sausages in the normal gameplay by today's CGI standards. In my mind, Aeris is remarkably well-rendered, the scene -- the slicing -- more grisly. But I'm also surprised at how much fidelity parts of the scene have retained, the blocking of the characters, the ambiguous facial expressions, the stillness of it.

I was wild with questions after Aeris died, or, more accurately, with a demand for answers. I remember finally going to a text walk-through I'd avoided to see if there was any way to have prevented this outcome. If there was any glitch to make Aeris come back into the party, a zombie compromise. Not that I could tell. She was just gone from the game, and with so much left to finish.

I was a completist -- if there was some marginal character that one might conceivably miss (Yuffie, say), I would beat the game again just to have the satisfaction of having the full set, as it were. So there was the basic functional disappointment of having an eternally unfinished collection. I don't want to underplay this feeling -- for god's sake, it was just a video game.

But I'm returning to it now because Aeris's death had a subtle psychological impact on my sense of what Final Fantasy VII actually was, in a way that makes me remember it so fondly and so sadly, and with remarkable frequency given I'm a good decade past a point where I've even more than glanced at a video game. Final Fantasy VII was different -- it wasn't just a game where you do everything you're supposed to do and finish it, maybe cheating a little along the way, maybe not. It's a game with an ugly little hole in its center, and you muddle through as best you can, knowing that it will never and can never be truly "won," and hence can never really be over. Not all the way. You finish as much as you can finish; there's a scar.

Even my own behaviors with Final Fantasy VII after beating the game once have echoes in my experience with the actual ugly little holes that I imagine most of us build our lives around. I vividly remember finishing Final Fantasy VII on a subsequent attempt after unlocking Aeris's final limit break -- the special, "final" move that can only be accessed after many more hours of gameplay than Aeris is realistically given, unless for whatever reason you are obsessed enough to do it anyway. The upshot was days and maybe weeks of sitting in my parents' basement, drinking diet soda, running around some remote little forest or peninsula, killing monsters in a mind-numbing sequence of auto-pilot maneuvers to slowly build up Aeris's experience. In my mind the limit break itself was anticlimactic -- but how could it not be? It didn't matter. She had to die.

The key resonance for me in Aeris's death is not just the death itself, its shock or, alternatively, those post-hoc rationalizations that it could be predicted; it is the way that the process of experiencing that death, that way of carrying it with you, forever stains the whole experience, dampens it with futility but somehow inflames a compulsion to retrace the steps anyway. You fight the same monsters, hoping that maybe just once the screen will darken and the skies will open up and something will change.

[mild-lunacy]

What is Canon? (and other existential questions)

graceebooks replied to your photo: ravenamore: unpretty: unpretty: unpretty: ...

you seem to have a very simple assumed definition of what “canon” even means in the first place… but is it really that easy?

Well, this definitely made me think about what my definition is, at least for the purposes of 'slashy' or homoerotic vs 'canon romance'. I'm not absolutist, in the sense that I need explicit proof and cannot take any implied romantic involvement as canon. Like, I've heard about people who refuse to accept when it's a queer romance even when the intent is clearly there but there's no announcement, or the kiss wasn't public, or there was no kiss and only hand-holding, etc. That's pretty clearly homophobic on some level. Still, part of it seems to be about a sort of split in fandom as far as 'slash goggles' are concerned, where people either see 'canon' or nothing at all. Homoeroticism isn't enough (ie, it isn't queer representation), and so it seems like we've created a bigger umbrella for things that are 'queer'.

I hope it's obvious that I have no intrinsic issue with a queer reading-- and I'm a big fan, specifically of seeing Kirk/Spock in TOS and the Reboot-- but I think I just find it useful to differentiate a queer reading from 'canon', which I feel is on the level of something that's inarguably the text rather than subtext. I do think subtext is also a part of the text-- that is, we're not just making it up, or it's not simply a misreading-- but neither is it factual. It's a grey area. And because I think literary analysis has so *much* in the way of grey areas, I find it important to be specific (and perhaps pedantic) about what I consider the text's core elements. As in, this is what I would teach and expect to see as part of an analysis in a lit class exam, and if you don't see it, you're not reading closely enough or have a bias.

Sometimes what you have is a muddle, because while you can be reasonably sure the intent went one way (either towards or away from the queer interpretation), the actual text doesn't bear up. For example, we know that Billy Wilder meant TPLoSH to have a gay Sherlock, but in my opinion, the actual film doesn't really support this except very indirectly. In that case, it's not that I propose ignoring the queer elements, which are quite real, and I would hope any serious analysis would take them into account. At the same time, there is no queer romance in canon, and to me that is simply a fact. I feel similarly about Star Trek TOS. We know Gene Roddenberry was open to the queer potential between Kirk and Spock, and you can certainly talk about the queer or homoerotic elements in the show, of which there are many. You can do a very easy-- and consistent!-- queer reading. But this reading would be... a reading. And any reading, no matter how good, no matter how fitting or logical and natural, is not the same thing as *canon*.

So what *is* canon?

It's not just the *purely* factual. That's definitely an oversimplification, and I'm not one of the people who thinks like that. But at the same time, calling every aspect of subtext 'canon' can *also* be oversimplification. Naturally, I think the characters' feelings, whether spoken or unspoken (but shown) are definitely part of the canon. At the same time, if the feelings are unspoken and implicit, you have to have some sort of contextual action-- or reaction by other characters-- that makes the relationship canonically romantic. Part of this has to do with talking about the larger focus and/or 'bent' of the narrative, which often coincides with Authorial Intent (given it's a competent writer and censorship can be ruled out; what is 'canon' in censored or altered texts is a whole different kettle of rather confusing fish).

Context is a difficult thing to pin down, and sometimes it's only obvious in retrospect, after a story is done. Nevertheless, it's often necessary to understand some subtler aspects of a given text's character relationships. Where was this relationship going? How long has it been indirectly or directly shown to going there? What are the textual pay-offs for whatever symbolic or subtextual queer/romantic elements that may be seen earlier in the text? It's those explicit emotional pay-offs that I need to consider a relationship 'canon'. Obviously, even an implicit relationship may be more or less subtle, and it may or may not involve any physical expression, but it's got to be shown or experienced romantically in a fairly straightforward way. This is my standard for any emotional development, romantic or not: it has to be connected and integrated into the greater reality of the story. It has to have both roots and consequences which are explicitly shown, even if never verbally confirmed.

For another example, and to prove I'm actually relatively open-ended in terms of what constitutes a 'shown' romantic relationship, I've long said I can see canon Johnlock at the end of TLD. I guess I'd say it walks right up to the edge of canon, but stops short of it. I can see TFP as constituting the 'emotional consequences' for the characters I spoke of, because it can be used to demonstrate the right kind of progression in John and Sherlock's relationship (even though everyone but Ivyblossom seems to disagree on this reading of TFP). My point is really that it *is* a reading, not an inarguable fact of TFP (ask anyone, really, even most people who see canon Johnlock elsewhere). I can squint and see it, but ultimately squinting is not enough. Something like Ronan/Adam in The Raven Cycle is certainly incidental, in that their romantic involvement is not the point of the story or even their overall relationship, and no explicit labels or declarations are present, but it's inarguably canon because it has both roots and consequences. I'd also say it was canon in retrospect even before their becoming boyfriends, because Ronan's attraction and Ronan's (and later Adam's) awareness of it constitutes a romantic interest (just an unrequited one). So 'canon' doesn't actually require requitedness, by any means. But either the character or the narrator must be shown to be aware, on some level.

I'm not necessarily denying that I may be pedantic about this, though. But I suppose I think I'd rather err on the side of caution and hold queer narratives to a higher standard. 'Slash' or homoerotic subtext is also an interesting and valuable thing to study or think about in its own right, even if you may argue the time for it has passed. Still, it's historically more accurate to leave that subtext in the realm of subtext, that which is subjectively present but objectively absent. That was its role and intended nature, and a lot of older texts don't really make sense to me otherwise, at least taken in their own context. And well, I'm enough of a lit nerd to always prefer to take stories in their own context, as far as analysis goes.

[chunsoftie]

1, 2, 4, 5, 9, 10 -- RELEASE THE SALT

The salt is being released. I spent an hour writing this 2K response, but yeah, have fun.

Ask me a Salty Ask Here

1.      What OTPS in your fandom(s) do you just notget?*

There are a few OTPs that I get in relative terms to thestory, or aesthetic purposes, but I am going to just name off a variedselection off the top of my head:

Rogermon (Lord of the Flies) – I actually wrote an entirelittle rant about why I don’t like/get this pairing here so if you want my fullopinion about why I don’t get this, you can click here. But for the sake of youguys just knowing to know a slice of the controversial pie, Rogermon just doesn’tmake sense because it’s Simon and Roger, two of the more introverted characterswithin the novel that have barely interacted and if they did canonicallyspeaking Roger would probably feel the need to hurt him, just like with everyother boy except for Jack. So, yeah.

Ralphiggy (Lord of the Flies) – This ship is pretty easy toexplain why I don’t get it, and it’s honestly pretty funny considering myheader might give you the idea that I ship them. I really don’t, I just findmyself looking like some kind of hybrid mix between the two because I’m blondeand I wear glasses (and I’m a lil’ chubby but hey who is judging here. Anyways,the reason I don’t ship these two is just because Ralph pretty much was annoyedby Piggy throughout the entirety of the novel until just before Piggy dies.Ralph didn’t find anything charming about Piggy and honestly, I would arguethat Piggy was kind of on the same boat but he fled to Ralph for protection,and Ralph needed Piggy for support. However I’m kind of more open towards thisship in a platonic sense, because I do love how their relationship buildsthroughout the novel and I honestly love when people tackle these two, realistically,in fic. I just don’t like the ship.

Jack/Simon (Lord of the Flies) – Another ship that doesn’t reallymake any sense and yet I still see fanart for it, but whatever. I’m not goingto call out this rarepair too hard just because it is rare and I hardly see itanymore. Obviously, the reason I don’t get this is because Jack and Simonhardly interact in the novel and when Jack does talk about Simon it’s of theupmost disregard. So yeah, not a huge fun.

I’m going to talk about Style in the next question, no needin bringing that ship up here.

Garneal, or Pearlnet (I don’t know) (Steven Universe): YeahI can kind of get why people are attracted to this ship, Garnet and Pearl carea lot for each other and their relationship has been building positively sincethe beginning of the show and especially during the Sardonyx arc. However I don’tget Garnet ships in general, which is what makes this weird in my eyes. Garnetis a relationship. She’s a character in and of herself but her entirecharacterization is built pretty much around a strong, mutual relationshipbetween two other gems. The idea of Garnet being in a relationship with anotherGem makes it seem like people are trying to pair Garnet to somebody elsebecause they feel like she needs that other person, even though she’s arelationship in and of herself and she’s happy with who she is. Plus, not goingto get into detail about Pearl and how I don’t really find her as interestingas the other CCs, so there you go.

2.      Are there popular fandom OTPs you only BroTP?*

Oh yeah.

Lapidot (Steven Universe); I find this relationship boringand uninteresting. Friendship wise, I think it’s awesome and I wouldn’t want tochange anything about that. However it seems inevitable that Peridot’s firstfusion will be with Lapis, and a part of me is bummed about that because I feellike with her development with Amethyst – development we’ve actually seen onscreen and can vouch for – would be a better candidate for first-time fusion.(What can I say? I ship Amedot). Lapidot, to me, is just not that fun orexciting and I would much rather them be a BroTP. I can hardly ship Lapis withanyone, honestly.

Style (South Park): I love these two as friends. I love howin the cartoon these two would do so much for one another. However I can’treally ship it romantically even though they were the first ship I got intowhen it came to the South Park fandom. I actually got into Kyman (which areKyle and Cartman, yeah, sue me) because I was looking for Style fanartback-in-the-day. So yeah, I guess this ship is good for something. If I had toship anyone with Stan it would definitely be Wendy, and I was going to say ifsomething isn’t broke why fix it, but Wendy and Stan need to have a more stablerelationship, but at least they work and at least Stan is happy with her. Whydo Style fans needs to demonize Wendy in this retrospect? Give the boys somehappiness, y’know? But yeah, Style is a ship I BroTP but wouldn’t romanticallyget behind.

This is going to be kind of weird considering they werecanon for a while in the show but another BroTP that should’ve stayed a BroTPwas Clexa (Clarke and Lexa from The 100). So, for a little bit I did ship thesetwo. You could see the progression between them and they basically played offlike a lesbian version of Bellarke (put your rifles away, sweeties, I shipBellarke to the moon and back and this is just a brief overview). However Ifelt like with Lexa’s characterization they were trying too hard. It didn’treally feel natural for these two to become romantic and when they finally did,I didn’t care anymore. Lexa is honestly one of the most boring characterswithin The 100, even compared to some of the starting cast that had cool personalitiesbut didn’t really do anything. Lexa is just a mannequin with a restingbitch-face. We can say I’m not really too into that. But as comrades, I likedtheir dynamic, just please stop trying to force lesbian romances for the sakeof keeping it within the demographic. If you’re going to write a strong,tightly-knit lesbian relationship, then do it.

So much for Clarke’s bisexual representation.

3.      Do you have a NoTP in your fandom? Are they apopular OTP?

The only NoTPs I really have are for a view. Some of myfollowers might glare at me from the sidelines but whatever.

Zutara (Avatar: the Last Airbender): Not really going intotoo much detail about why I just don’t like this ship except for the aesthetic,but I’ve always loved the Kataang relationship since the show started airingand I’m not really going to change my mind about it.

NaruSaku (Naruto): This should have been with my BroTPcategory but I already went into too much detail there with a few ships, so forthe sake of keeping this brief, I have always preferred NaruHina (Naruto andHinata), but I do love Sakura as a character and I love her growingfriendship/platonic!relationship with Naruto. I kind of don’t like SasuSaku,though, but I feel more indifferent towards them.

Keith/Shiro (Voltron): I just prefer Klance, and I actuallyship Shiro with Pidge even though people are going to fire up their torches andchase me down for it because of Shiro’s age? Or whatever? I don’t really care,people might already be pissed off about this listing already. Anyways, yeah, Iship Klance way more even though I’m still kind of indifferent towards thosetwo, but I am getting more into them.

Diane/Mr. Peanutbutter (BoJack Horseman): I feel moreindifferent about these two but I like how their relationship is portrayed inthe series and I definitely like how they didn’t divorce automatically like somany couples do and they actually work through their problems. The only issueis I prefer Diane with BoJack just because I feel like the two of them can beamazing together and just what each other needs, but maybe that’s because I canimagine it greatly in my head but I know it would just end up hurting Diane tobe with someone so destructive and broken. Eh, I still ship it. Mr.Peanutbutter can annoy me so much, as well, regardless of how adorable he is.

I can’t really think of others, honestly.

4.      Has fandom ever ruined a pairing for you?

Kind of on a mix between The 100 with Clexa but that shipwas already a sinking one without the fandom so it wasn’t like I needed theirhelp for that. The fandom for Steven Universe is a toxic hellhole, so shippingAmedot nowadays is practically like stepping into radioactive waste since allof the Lapidot fans want to throw a rope around your neck, but it’s arguablethat’s how it is with whichever ship between the two you prefer, so it’swhatever.

So yeah, The 100 and Steven Universe because all of thoseSJW bitches.

And let’s not forget how the South Park fandom can be attimes, just let me ship Kyman in peace goddammit.

9. Most disliked character(s)? Why?

Um, I feel like there are a lot of characters from certainshows/books that I just dislike so I’m going to just list off a view andexplain why:

Roger (Lord of the Flies) – He’s really got one thing goingfor him in the novel and that is he likes killing things and people. There’s nothing‘deep’ about him and he’s not going to have this realization that killingpeople is bad so people need to stop removing that characterization from him.Just leave him alone and let him be what he is, honestly.

Ronaldo (Steven Universe) – Annoying character thatrepresents all of the terrible things about the Steven Universe fandom? Yeah,not a huge fan.

Lars (Steven Universe) – I find him irritating but he isgetting better and hopefully the Wanted event will help me like him more.

Mr. Garrison (South Park) – I originally found him reallyfunny and interesting but now I just find him annoying. I do still laugh atsome of his jokes, though.

Hannah Baker (Thirtreen Reasons Why) – This is a new one, Iactually started watching the series a few days ago and am almost finished withit. That being said, Hannah as a character in this series is extremely annoyingand probably one of the biggest bitches ever. What’s up with female charactersin this series being absolute bitches for no reason just because someone doesn’trespond in time or have a profound answer to their questions? Just let thedudes relax. I get it, Hannah, you’ve been through some rough shit but maybe Iwould care for your more if you weren’t such a pretentious bitch. Wow, I saidbitch a lot, but I’m not really sorry for that.

And this is kind of random but off the top of my headanother character I despise is Abigail from The Crucible. I could not stand herwithin the play and if I ever reread it I will throw my copy against a wall.She’s such a useless waste of space within the plot, just burn her, please.

10. Most disliked arc? Why?

Um, this is pretty hard because I don’t really dislike arcs,I just find some of them not written well? But off the top of my head, I wouldhave to say several arcs in the second season of Voltron could have beenwritten a lot better and a large part of that season felt extremely rushed. Itwas kind of like the same thing with mid-seasons of Legend of Korra, so I’m notreally surprised, but I can’t point towards a single arcs because there were aLOT of arcs in the second season that just didn’t feel like they were going anywhereand that they could have been solved in a span of two episodes.

So yeah, Voltron. But other than that I will have to thinkabout that. I don’t really watch too much plot-heavy shows so that’s why thisone of kind of hard for me. I can’t even think of a The 100 arc I disliked, andthat’s saying something ‘cause there were a lot.

[pretty-eyes-jaeger]

Thoughts on SNK 90. 

This is honestly just me giving my thoughts and reactions. There is little theoretically merit, but some if you squint, (and most of it is reiterations of theoretical things I’ve said before.) You most certainly don’t have to read this cause my opinion matters 0%. But I wanted to say something, so here it is. 

First of all, good things. 

Historia is the best queen ever and is doing such a good job. 

The kids finally seeing the ocean made my heart so happy. Sasha and Connie pulling Jean down with them into the water? Best panel I’ve seen in a while. EMA smiling at the waves and shells? Yes. Life is good. We got our beach episode, friends. Let’s celebrate that. 

Now on to the more reflective piece of this post. 

At first, the time skip and the end of the titans left me a bit jarred. It felt too fast, too simple for the way the story’s been going. But in retrospect, it probably makes sense. The real threats now are not the “normal” titans anymore; it’s Zeke and the Marley Warriors across the ocean, poised to attack Paradise or whatever the island is called. This marks the end of the first fight: getting out of the walls. Now that fight has given way to a larger one: getting off the island. 

Now, I will say that I’m still a little unhappy with that larger fight, solely because I fell in love with the series in which the titans were the end-all, be-all “bad guys,” and there weren’t any war dynamic going on and what not. But now that we’re progressing down this path, I’m learning to get on board with it. We still have titans to fight, (Reiner, Zeke, their other friends perhaps.) And that battle should be good when we get there. 

Another key moment: Flocke’s speech. He voiced an argument that’s been raging on this website for months: Did Armin deserve to live? 

Flocke’s opinion is not out of line, I think. He’s the only one who survived Erwin’s death charge. He’s the one who dragged Erwin’s mostly dead body to Levi. He has that same fighting spirit as Eren and Marlo; he just has his own set of principles that clearly differ from Eren’s. His reasoning is legitimate: Why did Captain Levi sacrifice our brilliant commander for this kid? Now, Flocke does not know Armin. He does not know about Armin’s involvement in Trost, the 57th expedition, the fight in Shinganshina (the city proper, that is,) or anything else. So yeah, he’s gonna be upset that he dragged Erwin to that roof only for the commander to die because he looked up to Erwin and believed that the man who led the charge for so long deserved to live. 

Levi’s silence on the matter is interesting. We all expected Eren to react of course. But Levi had a moment where he could’ve jumped in and explained his reasoning to the kids. Levi did not try to justify his choice, though. He didn’t say anything, letting Flocke speak instead. Levi’s always been very judicious with his words. He doesn’t say much; he’s more a man of action. But his whole person looks weighed down, most likely with grief of losing someone so close to him, or guilt at letting Erwin die, or even just exhaustion from the burden of everything he’s dealing with (including Erwin, the final mission, the basement, telling the public, etc.) Yet, even though it’s clear he’s upset, I don’t think Levi wholly regrets his decision. Erwin went into Shinganshina ready to die, prepared to give up his life for the cause. Levi let him have that, let him die on the battlefield in glory. Levi gave Erwin what he wanted: freedom from this cruel world. Therefore, he can’t wholly regret his decision. 

And Armin’s agreement with Flocke is also warranted: Armin’s never been all that confident in his abilities regardless of his skills. He’s always felt a little unimportant, questioned his place. And the kid’s probably very confused right now, you know, with the whole weight of eating another human being on his shoulders. I’m sure we’ll have some fun scenes regarding that knowledge eventually. 

Which leads me to the rant portion of this reflection: 

The thing that’s been grinding my gears so much, mostly reading meta/reaction posts not even the chapter, is that ERWIN ISN’T THE ONLY ONE WHO DIED IN SHINGANSHINA. If we’re going to ignore the fact that Bertholdt died to keep Armin alive, if we’re not going to talk about that at all, then Erwin doesn’t get a funeral either.

I’m still really mad that throughout the whole serum debate, VERY FEW PEOPLE recognized that we were losing two major characters. Everyone’s eyes were focused on Armin and Erwin; few saw that Bertholdt was dying regardless. Maybe that’s my bias because Bertholdt was/is my favorite character. But maybe that’s why I’m so passionate about this. If I can still enjoy the series when my favorite character is not only dead but ignored by most of the fandom, I think all you Erwin fans can learn to get over it too. Maybe that’s insensitive to say, I recognize that. But it’s not that I don’t sympathize with you, I do, cause I lost my favorite too. And it would be really nice if we could mourn the two equally.

Besides, you get your Erwin closure with Levi and Hanji and even Flocke’s speech. We Bertholdt fans have nothing since Reiner’s out of the picture for now and Annie’s still in her crystal and it’s clear that none of the main 104th had much of an opinion on watching him die. No one’s mourned our boy yet. But life goes on. 

Is this super relevant to the chapter? No. But I think about this with every chapter I read. We still have no Titan Trio backstory when they were the first “antagonists” introduced. We’re still guessing at their motivations and pasts and thoughts, while the main characters continue to villanize them on account of their actions. Actions are not necessarily in line with a person’s thinking. Yes, the Titan Trio have done bad things. But they are not bad people. They are children who want to go home, like EMA. They are children who have been forced to do terrible things, most likely brainwashed from birth to believe that murdering the people of the walls is an act of heroism. These three are some of the most complex and sympathetic characters in the series, and yet they are often written off as evil or ignored in favor of the main characters. 

That’s another thing I want to comment on quick. I “love” (read the opposite of that) seeing posts that Armin’s going to turn “evil” now that he has Bertholdt’s memories. First, I don’t think Armin can access Bertholdt’s memories. That’s a thing that happens because of the coordinate and progenitor titan and royal bloodline, all of which Armin does not have. Second, Bertholdt is NOT evil. He’s done evil things, yes, but he’s just a shy teenager trying to survive. He is not inherently bad. Bertholdt’s memories aren’t going to turn anyone evil, they would only help Armin better understand his motivations and reasoning for doing what he did. Seeing Bertholdt’s memories would make him more sympathetic not only to the audience, but most likely the characters as well. 

The other pieces missing are Ymir and Annie. Annie will most certainly come up later, I know she will, and I’m really interested to see how that goes down. I want to see how she reacts to everything that’s happened. I want to see what they tell her and what information they withhold. I want to see her reaction to the fate of Bertholdt and Reiner and their mission. I want to just see Annie again and where her story will go. 

Then there’s Ymir. Part of me thinks she’s dead. Another part refuses to believe that. Either way, some closure would be nice. Even if she is dead, I want to know how it happened, and I hope it was the most Ymir-worthy death she could have. 

[thelightofthingshopedfor]

2016 Fanfiction Round-Up

Copied this fanfic round-up from @veliseraptor​ because I’m always a sucker for this kind of thing and I pretty much always do some kind of fic retrospective. Also I’m only doing this on AO3, not counting FFN.

Total Year-Long Wordcount: The unfortunate thing about my inability to finish stuff in a reasonable time frame means that there’s probably a big difference between how much I wrote last year and how much I actually posted. On the other hand, something like half of “the kindness of strangers” was written prior to this year and I’m still counting everything I posted, so whatever. Adding it all up, I posted 67,504 words on AO3 (minus “adventures of tiny Loki and Thor”), but my dubiously accurate 2016 document contains 97,000 words, so...my actual wordcount for the year is probably around 85,000.

This year I wrote and posted: 16 fics, of which 3 have more than one chapter, and 53 new “adventures of tiny Loki and Thor” posts 

Overall Thoughts

Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d predicted? I didn’t set a word-count goal of any kind, so...I don’t know? I’d say I did okay, although now that I’m looking at it, I feel like I should have finished/posted even more short fics than I did, which is...not a super helpful way to look at things.

What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted in January? Maybe the “I got pissed about Hydra Cap” one, considering I sure didn’t see that asinine “twist” coming. I also didn’t really expect I’d write so many Avengers Academy fics, although maybe I should have. Of course, those are still both Marvel. Probably the only really out-there fic was flailing in the deep, for @markiplier‘s Slime Rancher and Subnautica videos. 

What’s your own favorite story of the year? Not the most popular, but the one that makes you happiest? Overall, I think I’d have to say under bright stars burning--I struggled a lot with that one too, partly because it was so different from anything I’d written before (taking place over a long period of time, with two characters gradually developing a relationship, and a somewhat more meandering plot than normal because of that; plus most of it was set in the past, requiring a lot more research than usual), and I spent a lot of the writing process sure I was producing absolute garbage, but I ended up being really satisfied with it. I think it has a good arc, with vignettes that work well individually, and based on the comments, I think I did a good job writing Steve’s voice, using gradually maturing word/style choices for different life stages, and showing how he and Loki fit well together. I don’t know, I just like it a lot. 

Did you take any writing risks this year? What did you learn from them? Taking the plunge and committing to one of my long-term WIPs (the kindness of strangers) for Marvel Big Bang, I suppose. I learned, uh, that trying to wrestle a story I wrote in disconnected chunks over 2+ years is agonizing but more or less possible? 

From my past year of writing, what was….

My most popular story of this year: Not counting the adventures of tiny Loki and Thor, my fic with the most kudos was the state of my head (228), followed by “under bright stars burning” (178), Metal Gear Widow (137), and “the kindness of strangers” (131). By comments, it’s pretty much the same but in a different order: “the kindness of strangers” (58 comment threads), “under bright stars burning” (32), and “the state of my head” (16). If you go by percentage of kudos to hits, it’s “the state of my head” (13%), “the kindness of strangers” (12%), I’m your national anthem (12%), and “under bright stars burning” (10%). Also I’m sure that’s way more than anyone wanted to know. 

Most fun story to write: Maybe “the state of my head”; I got inspired by a prompt, it all came together quickly, and I knocked it out in a weekend. Writing from Tony’s POV was fun, too. “flailing in the deep” was another one where I got to be funny.

Story with the single sexiest moment: Literally the only semi-explicit sex scene (by which I mean, I didn’t fade to black but I also didn’t describe specific body parts) I’ve ever written was for let your colors bleed and blend with mine (Crimson Peak, Thomas/Edith) and that was right at the end of 2015 so it doesn’t quite count. Otherwise there’s a kissing scene in “under bright stars burning” but it’s...not very sexy...

Most “Holy crap, that’s wrong, even for you” story:  uhhhhh. well, “the kindness of strangers” probably has the most/nastiest Loki whump I’ve posted on AO3 thus far, to the point that I think a few readers were surprised, so I suppose there’s that??

Story that shifted my own perceptions of the characters: I hadn’t really written Steve before “under bright stars burning” and that ended up being a reasonably long fic all from his POV, at different points throughout his life, so writing that one definitely gave me a better sense of him as a character. 

Hardest story to write: Gonna have to go with “the kindness of strangers,” which should be obvious to anyone who noticed me screaming about Marvel Big Bang for the last several months. 

Biggest Disappointment: I’m not great with deadlines, as everyone probably knows, so pretty much every time I sign up for anything with a deadline, I end up causing myself a lot of stress and just barely squeaking in under the wire, often with less of a story than I originally planned, or actually a little bit after the deadline in one way or another. I’ve often been especially bad about this with Yuletide, posting an unfinished placeholder on the deadline and then getting it actually done before reveals; way back in 2011, I never did get it done and they had to send it out for a pinch hit the night before reveals, and I still feel bad about that (and keep intending to go back to the fic I was trying to write). This year I got caught doing it again and although I did end up posting a complete story, I’m definitely not happy with it because it’s like...one third of the story I meant to write. I still intend to finish it, but the fact that I didn’t is frustrating. 

Biggest Surprise: Nothing comes to mind.

Most Unintentionally Telling Story: I’ve written exactly two Marvel-related fics that aren’t about Loki, and they’re both about Steve, one where he’s progressive and mad at the whole world, and another where Avengers Academy Steve realizes he’s on the aro/ace spectrum. That probably says something.

Favorite Opening Line(s):

At this point, Tony is running almost entirely on adrenaline and good old-fashioned Stark bravado (patent pending), so he’s pretty much prepared for things to go completely to shit at any second. The particular variety of shit remains to be seen, but honestly, shit is shit and he’s mostly just banking on JARVIS deploying the new suit before Loki switches from talking to shooting. (the state of my head)

“What the fuck is this?” (I’m your national anthem)

Dorian was worried about the Inquisitor. This was hardly unusual, to be fair; in fact it was so far from being a new state of affairs that when Dorian wondered briefly what it would be like to live without at least a vague background worry for Elden, he came up blank. (another year)

For as long as Gamora has known him, Thanos has been a collector, entirely unmatched. He has been so for much longer than that, in fact; Gamora herself and all her siblings are proof. (the kindness of strangers)

Favorite Line(s) from Anywhere:

“I wouldn’t say nervous,” he hedges. Nervously. (the weight of it all)

“I’ve never stood for any of that shit, and I’m sure as hell not going to let anybody pretend Captain America stands for it either. That’s not—I won’t give more power to that kind of hatefulness. If people want to be bigots, fine, that’s on them, but they do not get to use this symbol to spread and validate their hate.” (I’m your national anthem)

There’s about five seconds of resounding silence, during which Loki shivers and barely seems to be breathing and Tony keeps rubbing his shoulder because apparently this is his life now, and then Barton says, “What the fuck, Stark?” (the state of my head)

Loki growls under his breath and makes a sharp gesture that sends another robot flying. “End program,” he snaps, and glowers at Natasha again. “Did you have a point, or did you simply wish to drag me back to the infatuated horde slavering for my brother’s return?” Natasha tilts her head. Whatever else you could say about Loki (and there’s a lot), he sure has a fancier vocabulary than most people she knows. (getting the gang together)

He is a being of countless interwoven myths and stories, the precise intersection of which seems to shift every time he tries to examine it, and eventually he stops trying, because he is no longer sure that it is relevant to what he is doing here. One thing, in all this, is constant: always, he is Loki, and he knows more than almost anyone that identity is malleable, that facts and truth are not always perfectly interchangeable. (we could be heroes)

“I see,” Loki says. He does, actually; he has studied and used enough magic to know that some laws of reality simply are, immutable no matter the power of the one seeking to change them. This knowledge does nothing to make him feel any less weary, and for a moment he thinks the weight of all this really will crush him, that he lacks the strength to do anything but sink into the dust of this barren realm and sleep there forever. (in death’s other kingdom)

haha so it turns out I liked a bunch of lines in this year’s long fics so I’m just gonna...list those separately at the bottom...

Top 5 Scenes from Anywhere You Would Choose to Have Illustrated: 

"under bright stars burning,” Steve and Loki hanging out on Coney Island, especially the bit where they’re sitting on the boardwalk railing watching the beach with the Wonder Wheel behind them

ditto, the kissing scene :3

anything?? those are the only two scenes that really come to mind in a “oh man I wish someone would draw this, it would be super cute” way, but 1) “the kindness of strangers” already has a bunch of awesome art from @neurovicky, which is amazing, and 2) I am thrilled with literally any fanart of my fics

Fic-writing goals for 2017:

continue writing at least a little bit every day

continue to post at least one new short fic to AO3 each month (last year I said “even if it’s a new ‘adventures of tiny Loki and Thor’ or ‘Custom figures’ chapter” but I managed even without that, I think, barely, so I should be able to do it again

continue to try focusing on fucking finishing some of the many, many, many fics languishing on my WIP list, especially the shorter ones that I really should have written and posted months or even years ago

more specific fic goals:

finish “the kindness of strangers” part III

finish the rest of my Yuletide fic haha whoops

New Year’s Resolution fic because my actual Yuletide fic was late, more whoops

that damn Stoki Week fic I started back in June

“Avengers Academy: Friendship Is Magic”

finish the rest of always gold to me

shit, I should get back to winter in our bones

and work on a followup to “under bright stars burning”

I don’t knowwww there are so many others

Favorite lines from “under bright stars burning” because sure why not, please note these are all very spoilery if you want to read the fic and haven’t:

“You would [like Thor],” Loki says, like it’s a law of the universe. “Thor is…bright, and boisterous, and everyone loves him, even when they are displeased with him. He is impossible to ignore. And I am…not him.”

He darts a glance toward Steve and then away, studying the shoreline, and Steve is suddenly struck by how beautiful Loki is. He’s noticed before, but not quite like this, with the breeze ruffling Loki’s hair and the sun highlighting those fine, sharp features Steve is always itching to draw. He doesn’t just want to draw Loki now, though; mostly he’s wondering what it would be like to kiss him.

Steve sighs, shoulders slumping, and gives up on the attempt at a smile. “It’s my mom. She…working in the TB ward finally caught up to her.” He swallows hard around the lump in his throat, which seems to be growing sharp points with every word. “The funeral was today.”

Loki gives him a look that somehow combines concern with profound skepticism.

Steve nods, his gut twisting uneasily as more threads of the nightmare come into focus, connect, begin to compose a larger picture. The golden prince in the red cape, blinding and bright, with a shadow no one ever notices. Cheers and thunderous applause (but not for the shadow, never for the shadow). His hand turning blue and ridged in the monster’s grip, and horror freezing the breath in his lungs more effectively than the glacial cold. A glowing blue box radiates cold and his hands turn blue as he touches it monster monster monster and revulsion is so thick in his throat he thinks he’ll choke on it. Rage and terror, rage and terror, no more than another stolen relic, claimed to love me, tell me tell me tell me, never wanted never loved never real and fear again. A corona of golden light. A spear and a throne and plans plans plans he will do it he will show them he is right, is worthy (is nothing but the monster parents tell their children about at night)—

Desert. Blood on the sand. A bridge. Battle, galaxies hanging suspended overhead. An explosion that sends him flying, his grip on the spear the only thing holding him above the abyss, but he has no reason to hold on and so he lets go and falls falls falls—

Bucky falls and Steve can’t catch him. Schmidt takes off with the Tesseract and Steve can’t stop him. Instead he sits at the Valkyrie’s controls and makes a date with Peggy that they both know he won’t make and tries not to think that even as Captain America, all he can do is fail the people he cares about, over and over again. Tries, fruitlessly, not to spend his last moments wishing he had more time with any of them, and then he sends the Valkyrie into the water.

And then Loki moves, quick as thought, already inside Steve’s guard, and Steve has no time or space to block him (and barely the space of a breath for a rush of horrified betrayal) before the tip of his scepter is pressed to Steve’s heart. Everything else disappears in a blaze of consuming blue light.

He is drowning in pain and anger, and then (no, Loki) despair overwhelms everything else, and he opens his hand, and he falls.

Under other circumstances, Loki thinks he might be impressed with his captors’ efficiency. They are expending no apparent effort and still grinding him down, and he does not want to think what it means, that this all must be in preparation for something—or that perhaps it is not, and he truly does not know which thought is worse.

He knows Thanos is too powerful. To think otherwise comes near to blasphemy.

It is fitting, he supposes, that the monster should destroy everything that was once good in its life, even this. Steve does not deserve this, does not deserve to suffer for unknowingly befriending a monster and finding himself inevitably drawn into the monster’s fate, but he will, and Loki can almost feel his spine bending under the weight of his own despair.

Favorite lines from “the kindness of strangers” because ditto, and ditto on spoilers:

This is truth: Thanos is patient like Death is patient, with the calm surety that the universe will bow to his will in the end no matter how long it takes.

Gamora was never nice except when it suited her, even before; was already hard, and fierce in her defense of anything she considered hers, and so once Thanos had broken and remade her, she had something left of herself, harder even than the shell he made her create.

She is a daughter of Thanos, by necessity and unyielding determination (and by something she refuses to call desperation, even in her own mind), but she is also the last surviving member of the Zehoberei race. This second identity is not one she considers often; at best it is not useful to the life she leads now, and at worst it is dangerous, but it still exists, always, alongside anything else Thanos might make of her—a kind of sacred responsibility, almost, even if she has little time or patience for religion or superstition. And the last survivor of the Zehoberei, in the name of all the unknown dead that she alone carries, burns with quiet rage at the idea of Thanos gaining the power to wipe out another race.

“I would take you for a Valkyrie,” he says, quiet and hoarse, “but if that were so you would not come to me, for I cannot succeed even at dying and I know Valhalla is barred to me.”

Yes, she is afraid of Thanos, afraid down to her marrow, and any thinking being should be as well, and perhaps everything else she tells herself—everything else she holds close as evidence that she does not belong to him—is merely an excuse for her own cowardice.

But the truth that matters the most in this case is simple: her reasons have not changed, and they far outweigh her pity for Loki (and her desire to prove to herself that she is not a coward). Whether they are still good reasons or merely excuses to salve what remains of her conscience is immaterial.

This is another truth: Gamora does not like to think in terms of what she can and cannot do. It is too much like helplessness, to look too long at the choices she is denied, and she learned a long time ago that helplessness is a short step away from death or worse. Instead she assesses situations and finds choices to make, and then she chooses, and she does not regret or look back—even when the choices are impossible or effectively meaningless. There is always, always a choice of some kind to be made, and to choose is to regain some measure of control over the situation, no matter how small. If she chooses, she cannot be forced one way or the other, and therefore she is not helpless.

“Soon,” Thanos tells her, his expression satisfied, and something unpleasant curls in Gamora’s stomach, the same mingling of fear and relief she feels whenever Thanos is pleased.

The titan smiles down at him, something both paternal and predatory in his gaze.

Slowly the blankness in his expression is replaced by something just as sharp and feral as the first time Gamora laid eyes on him, only now it is more wary, more focused, both more and less desperate. ... Every now and then, Thanos tells Loki that he is pleased with his progress, and Loki smiles to hear it, and his smile is like a brittle blade.

And for a long moment that freezes the blood in her veins like shards of ice, all she can think is I have failed. She has not done enough, and Terra is going to fall like her world did so long ago, all because she was so determined to wait for the right moment.

“It’s really not that complicated,” Romanoff says, and then: “I’ve got red in my ledger. I want to wipe it out.” There is…a cadence to it, something he knows, not the words but the sense of…something practiced, repeated, held close…

“Because look, he busted up a town because of a fight with his brother, singlehandedly destroyed a SHIELD installation, took out a guy’s eyeball, and threatened a freaking Holocaust survivor. Even if he doesn’t want to be this Thanos’s tool, he’s still a tool in general.”

“Gentlemen,” Fury snaps, “if you’re going to have a pissing contest, do it on your own time. I’m not asking you to like each other or the God of Crazy, I’m asking if you’ll put on your big boy pants for five seconds, do what’s necessary, and work together.”

[inversekaon]

[fic] Like Ships in the Night (3)

Fandom: Yugioh Zexal Paring: V/Gauche, background Mizael/Kaito Rating: T Wordcount: ~7000 dreamwidth link AO3 link

Soulmates AU. Fate would always ensure that soulmates found each other. Even if it had to try again…and again…and again…and again…

~*~*~*~*~

Like Ships in the Night Part 3 // In Consort

Do you like me? Those words kept on echoing in his mind—even more than the words scrawled on his arm—and while he hadn't been completely sure of his answer at the time, he'd become quite sure of it over the past week. "Of course I do," Chris muttered to himself as he scrolled through his collection of videos of Gauche dueling. He selected one he hadn't watched yet, and then promptly tuned out as he waited for Gauche to appear, rather than his opponent. Now that he knew for sure it was him—now that he felt like he was allowed to like him because he wouldn't be falling for someone else's soulmate (again)—he could say with absolutely certainty that he liked Gauche and was attracted to Gauche and he had been for quite a while now. Maybe it had even started back when Gauche had demanded a duel from him, or maybe it had only been after Gauche had gotten to his feet after the first duel and immediately demanded a second. He couldn't say for sure when he'd started liking him. But he could pinpoint exactly when he'd first realized he was attracted to the man. There had been one afternoon when Gauche had been slow to get up after losing a duel, when he'd pushed himself up on his elbows and lay there with his knees bent and legs spread and looked up at him like he was daring him to do something....Chris had had to turn away very fast to keep from staring at him too long, and he had had more than one dream since then with Gauche sprawled the same way in his bed. He had, of course, thought of Gauche as attractive before then, but it was only then that he knew how attracted he was personally and wouldn't mind doing something about it. Then he hadn't. Because Gauche might have been better off with someone else, he he didn't want to get in the way of that. And he didn't look up their duel either, because maybe that phrase on his arm wasn't exactly right, but as long as he didn't know for sure, he could still have some hope that it was. He didn't want to know for sure until he was sure in his heart that Gauche was the right one after all. Thankfully, the advertisements for the tournament had made that decision for him. Otherwise, he might never have checked. The video ended and Chris scrolled through for another one. As a Pro Duelist, Gauche had quite a lot of videos of his duels out there, although Chris had been somewhat reluctant to watch them until now. He had been content with dueling Gauche himself a few times a week. Gauche had suggested they wait until the tournament to duel again, however, since it would only be a couple weeks, so Chris had to content himself with watching his duels with other people instead. ...In retrospect, he probably should have just accepted Gauche was the one as soon as he started rearranging his schedule to spend more time with him. ...Which had been quite a bit earlier than when he'd received that beautiful vision of Gauche on his back. ...Kaito had almost certainly been thinking it as soon as Gauche had texted him that first time. Hopefully, Kaito wouldn't say so once Chris actually told him they'd figured it out. Even Gauche couldn't make up for an utterly lackluster opponent, though. He liked Gauche quite a lot, but it was the Gauche who never backed down and fought passionately to the end that he liked most, and while he was politely keeping a smile on his face, Gauche just had no need to fight so hard in this particular duel. Chris closed out of the video and looked for another one. He settled on Gauche's duel with Yuma from the last WDC. Even though this upcoming tournament was actually mostly his own idea, and the holoscreens around the city advertising it used all the footage they could from the previous one, Chris didn't have anything to do with putting together the advertisements so there was plenty of footage from the WDC that he hadn't seen. Like this duel, for instance. He probably should have watched it by now, though; a duel against Yuma was sure to bring out the passionate Gauche he'd come to enjoy so much. ...Of course, he also had to put up with listening to Mr. Heartland every now and then. Chris's eye twitched a little as the man's grating voice introduced the field and the players. Mr. Heartland had played no small part in why he'd avoided watching any of the WDC for so long. Then his eyebrows shot up and he leaned forward in his seat. Gauche had just stood up on his Duel Coaster and turned around to face Yuma head on. Of course, it was a very Gauche-like thing to do that. If anyone else was going to do that, it would be him. But it still caught him by surprise. Chris had thought he'd been the only one who had done something that reckless. And he'd only done it once. But not only had Gauche stood up right from the start, he seemed determined to get back up and keep standing any time he was knocked down as the duel progressed. No wonder he had been so excited to hear they would be using the Duel Coasters again; he seemed to have had quite a lot of fun last time. Chris smiled a little as Gauche replenished Yuma's lifepoints to make it a fair fight. But Yuma didn't seem to be giving him the fight he wanted. Gauche slowly grew more and more frustrated until he finally snapped. "That was such a cheap attack! I don't....I don't wanna have such a lame duel with you!" Chris paused the video and stared out the window. What had set him off had been Yuma dealing him effect damage while smoothly avoiding taking any damage himself—exactly the way Chris preferred to play. Yuma's tactics were quite good, but they were tactics Gauche hated to play against. It wasn't as though Chris hadn't noticed that from the beginning. He was still amazed, even now, that Gauche hadn't just walked away after a handful of duels like that, and watching this exchange only rekindled that feeling. Granted, Gauche had only ever seemed frustrated by their duels and not like he'd hated them, and he did always come back for more but...he really hadn't seemed as happy to duel Chris as he had those handful of times when Chris switched to a more straightforward deck and playing style. His fingers tapped absently on the tablet in his lap. It really wasn't the way he preferred to duel...but if it got Gauche to smile like that again...and there was nothing saying he had to duel that way always from now on... Chris unpaused the video, and his chest felt tight every time Gauche's grinning face appeared on the screen, but he was too lost in thought to pay much attention to anything else. ~*~*~*~*~ Gauche made his way through the familiar halls of Heartland Tower with a single-minded purpose. As he reached the room where he'd been told he could find Kaito and his guest, the doors slid open and the two of them walked out. Whatever conversation they had been having died as soon as Kaito had to stop short to keep from walking right into Gauche. "What are you doing here?" Kaito asked in surprise. Gauche ignored him. He wasn't the one he was here to see. "You're Mizael, right?" Gauche asked, looking pointedly at the boy next to Kaito. He only knew the blond in passing, but this was where Alit had said he would be, and he did look familiar now that he was standing in front of him. "My name's Gauche. Can I talk to you?" Mizael and Kaito glanced at each other, and then gave him identical looks of confusion. "About what?" Mizael asked. "V—er, Chris Arclight." He wasn't sure which name Mizael would be more familiar with. V hadn't ever corrected him, but he seemed to be using his real name just as much these days. "You're the one who dueled him back when...you know. Right? Can you tell me about it?" Gauche had spent most of the last week or so trying to learn more about V without having to resort to asking his brothers or Kaito, who he didn't like and might give something away. It hadn't gone particularly well. During the WDC, the only duel that had been recorded in full had been his own duel with Yuma. There was absolutely nothing of V's duel with Kaito. He couldn't find any evidence that V had participated in any duels before the semi-finals either, which had him seriously wondering if he'd even earned his Heart Pieces himself. (If he'd known about that at the time, he definitely would have had something done about that. But V had obviously been qualified, so he couldn't bring himself to be too annoyed about it now.) In fact, the only footage Gauche could find of his dueling was from the Duel Coasters part of the tournament, and there still wasn't much of that, since there had been so many of them for the cameras to focus on. Gauche was more than familiar with his dueling and attitude from that time anyway. He had finally resorted to talking to Yuma and his friend Kotori about it—which turned out to be the best decision he could have made, because Yuma and Kotori seemed to have been there for every duel and almost every event that had happened over those handful of months. Yuma very enthusiastically told him all about V's duel with Kaito—and about V and Tron's surprise history with Yuma's father and why they hated Dr. Faker so much. (Kotori had been reluctant to share that bit, but Yuma was already halfway through the story before she could even try to say anything.) And Yuma had very enthusiastically told him all about V and his family's contributions to the fight against the Barians. That they had been keeping an eye on what was going on, so they could step in to protect Yuma if he needed it. That Yuma had briefly lost the Original Numbers, but V and Kaito had built a portal to the Astral World to save him, and then dueled one of the Barians together to make sure Yuma could leave safely. That V had taken charge once the Seven Barian Emperors had appeared, keeping Yuma out of their hands while everyone else tried to defeat them. That after the death of their brother, V and III had thrown themselves into the fray to give Yuma time to escape to the Barian World to try to end things with Don Thousand directly. Unfortunately, Yuma had only seen the very end of that duel, and he couldn't seem to describe what had happened without stumbling over his words. Gauche had decided that rather than force him to live through it again, he might as well just go and ask the Barian they had dueled directly. He'd have to talk to Mizael about the rest of the duel anyway. Mizael crossed his arms and eyed him with a frown. "I suppose. Why?" "He's...my soulmate," Gauche said. That still didn't feel quite real, even a week later. "I want to know more about him." "I knew it," Kaito said with a smirk. "Oh?" Mizael's shoulders relaxed somewhat, and he even had the hint of a smile. "Congratulations. He's a fine human; I would have been honored to have him as my soulmate." Gauche's eyebrows shot up. "That's a pretty high opinion you've got there." Kaito feeling that way he would have expected, but he didn't really expect that from anyone else. "Indeed," Mizael said, and then said nothing else to elaborate on it. Instead, he tilted his head slightly and added, "If you want to know about Christopher, wouldn't it be better to ask his brothers? Michael could tell you about our duel as easily as I can." "I want to hear it from someone less biased," Gauche said. Or less biased in V's favor, anyway. Though from the sound of it, Mizael really might not be super biased in his own favor either. "Hmm," was all Mizael said to that, but he did look marginally more approving. "Well, it might take a while to go through all of it. Do you want to go somewhere...?" "You guys can talk about it in my apartment," Kaito said, gesturing vaguely upwards. "We were about to head up there anyway." Mizael's cheeks tinged the faintest shade of pink, but he nodded to Kaito and sent Gauche a questioning look. Gauche shrugged and gestured for Kaito to lead the way. Gauche had been in Kaito's apartment a handful of time while he'd still been working for Mr. Heartland. It had been vast and utterly lifeless then, with only the bare minimum of furnishings to make it seem like someone lived there. He had also lived there by himself. Dr. Faker and Mr. Heartland let him spend as much time as he wanted visiting his brother, but Haruto had not been allowed to live with him. It was too dangerous, they had said. They were all just tools, was what they had meant. The apartment Kaito led them to now was completely different. It was slightly smaller, for one thing, a more appropriate size for one or two or even three people, and there was more than one piece of furniture. And there were also toys and papers and books scattered about, evidence that not only was Haruto living with him again, so was Dr. Faker. Luckily, it seemed neither of them was here right now. Gauche had to wonder how much time Kaito actually spent here, how much he had actually been able to forgive his father for the shit he'd put Haruto through, or if this effort had been mostly led by Haruto himself. Once they had settled in the living room with the tea Orbital 7 had been threatened into making for them, Mizael finally began his story. He seemed to have been thinking about what he was going to say the whole way up here. "It was after we had all defeated that first group of duelists protecting Tsukumo Yuma," Mizael said with a slight nod toward Gauche. "While I was searching for Yuma and Kaito, I came across Christopher and Michael instead. They had been waiting to intercept us—to intercept me, in particular. They goaded me into a duel for Yuma and Kaito's locations. Christopher even mentioned he had been Kaito's mentor. He knew I would never refuse after hearing that...." Mizael covered the duel itself with excruciating detail, which Gauche found interesting—because he never had gotten to fight against any of the Arclights' aces while they still had them—but not as interesting as the overall picture of it and all the other little details he slipped in. Like that V and III had absolutely done their research and gone into that duel prepared to shut down the Barians' trump card with alarming ease. That the Arclights had their own unique Rank Up Magic card. How the heck had that happened? Then Kaito had interjected that V had made it for them, and Gauche was even more impressed and disgruntled. That guy was really out there making his own cards?? And that wasn't exactly a standard card either; it had to have had some weird powers to it. That V and III had also been prepared to trap any and all Barians who came their way, to keep as many of them occupied and away from Yuma as possible. V was still wearing that bracelet of his even now; he wondered if it had any of that power left. Next time they met, he'd have to ask. That V and III were even more annoyingly competent fighting together than V was by himself, and Gauche was disappointed he couldn't have faced their Numbers but also somewhat relieved they were gone now. And also that no matter how scarily good they were, Mizael was even more so. "Before I could deal the final blow, we all saw a star streaking through the sky. It was Kaito, heading to the moon." Mizael glanced over at Kaito, who was watching him like he didn't already know this, like Mizael hadn't just said the most astonishing thing yet. "They seemed to have been waiting for that timing. Christopher called up Yuma so he could see what was happening, and so he could speak with both of us. "The key needed for the Numeron Code was on the moon. It needed specific Numbers for it be released—namely, mine and Kaito's. Christopher and Michael had been stalling for time while Kaito left for the moon, so he would be sure to make it there without anyone stopping him and accidentally ruining everything." "And for Yuma to get to the Barian World," Kaito added. "And that. But that wasn't as important," Mizael said. Kaito rolled his eyes, but his mouth twitched into a smile too. "Anyway, the important thing is that they sacrificed themselves to give us time to escape," Kaito said quietly. "Yes," Mizael said, turning back to Gauche. "But it was more than that. I've thought about this a lot since then—and I've spoken to Christopher about it as well, and he didn't deny it....The Numbers required to summon Numeron Dragon were mine and Kaito's. It had to be the two of us, in that place on the moon, for it to work the right way. Christopher and Michael...couldn't have won that duel, and they challenged me knowing that." Gauche stared at him for a minute, still trying to wrap his brain around everything that had just been thrown at him. V and III...had started that duel just to stall for time, knowing that they wouldn't be allowed to win it? They'd challenged Mizael...knowing they weren't going to walk away from it? Not because of a lack of skill, but because that was the way it had to be... He suddenly wished V was here with them, or he was wherever V was, so he could drag him off and show him exactly how he felt about that for several hours. "Did they throw it?" Gauche asked finally, his fingers digging into the couch cushions. He didn't think they would have—that V would have done something like that, but if they absolutely had to lose... Mizael pursed his lips with displeasure for the very idea. "No. Nothing like that. They fought me with everything they had. It was simply with the knowledge that fate would not be on their side." He paused and glanced thoughtfully over at Kaito. "Although Christopher probably did have a contingency plan, in case they did actually beat me. That would be like him." "He was going to come duel me himself, if he had to," Kaito said. "We had a suit and stuff ready—" Mizael snorted lightly. "You would have both ended up dead." "Probably," Kaito said with a shrug. "What Chris was really hoping for was that he'd find one of the other Barians first—Durbe maybe—and you'd find them and then he could beat them and survive and tell you where you were supposed to go. But I know he also really wanted a chance to duel you, so I don't think he was unhappy with how things worked out." "I want to duel you," Gauche blurted out. Sure, Mizael didn't have his stupidly overpowered Numbers anymore, but he'd undoubtedly be a challenge even without it. What he'd just told them about his duel with V and III made that clear enough. Mizael smirked and took a sip of his tea. "Find me at the tournament, then. I'd be honored to duel any one of you." ~*~*~*~*~ The morning of the Heartland Limited Carnival dawned clear and bright, but chilly. By mid-morning, the Duel Coaster Stadium was filled with the dull background roar of thousands of excited voices from the packed stands, and the day was shaping up to be one of the warmest of the week—which meant it was comfortable just standing there, but they were all sure to be freezing once they were speeding along the Duel Coaster track. Gauche absently adjusted his fingerless gloves and his feathered collar as he stood there in the center of the stadium with the other contestants. Since it had only been about eight months since the WDC, it was barely spring and some chilly days couldn't be helped, but it was certainly going to help to make things interesting later. It was nice that his favorite coat was already decently warm. The floating platform MR. Heartland had once used suddenly shot into the air for the new MC to announce the beginning of the tournament. Gauche glanced up briefly at the giant hologram of the man and shook his head a little. V had said he'd been concerned that Nico Smiley would be similar to Mr. Heartland in all the wrong ways, and it was easy to see why; the man looked like if Charlie Chaplin had decided to dress like a bee and become a sleazy used car salesman, and his mannerisms were just as wildly theatrical as Mr. Heartland's had been. Still, when Gauche had met him at the banquet last night, Smiley had seemed like a genuinely decent person, just a very enthusiastic one. He'd eagerly congratulated him on his win in the Spartan City tournament, even though it had been months ago, and he'd spent several minutes chatting with Droite about the nitty-gritty details of managing a Pro Duelist. Speaking of the banquet...Gauche frowned and scanned the crowd on the field, searching through the other contestants, the attendants, and the torrential downpour of confetti. The banquet had been considerably more relaxed than the one before the WDC had been, since all of the contestants either knew each other or knew Yuma, but Gauche had felt much the same frustration, as there had been one person in particular that he had never managed to catch up with no matter how many times his silver hair flashed from across the room. Gauche finally spotted V standing almost at the end of the line of Duel Coasters, chatting with Mizael while Kaito leaned against one of the coaster cars nearby. V glanced up briefly, but he only waved his hand once and then turned his attention right back to Mizael and Kaito. It wasn't quite a dismissal, but it sure was close enough to be annoying. Gauche scowled and started picking his way through the thin crowd to give V no other option but to pay attention to him for a minute. Then he stopped as he noticed Kaito making his way across the field towards him. "Why is he avoiding me?" Gauche demanded as soon as Kaito was close enough. He should just go over there and ask V himself, but if Kaito had been sent over here, there was probably a reason. Kaito raised an eyebrow. "Who said he was avoiding you?" Nevermind. Gauche was going to march over there anyway. "Wait, wait," Kaito said, grabbing his arm before he could get too far. "Okay, he is. But he asked me to tell you to wait a little longer. He won't keep avoiding you once we're all dueling." "Why?" "You think if I knew, I wouldn't tell you? It'd serve him right. I'm not his errand boy," Kaito said with a sideways glance back at V, though there wasn't any real venom behind it. Gauche conceded the point with a shrug and also looked back up at V. Mizael was still there, but he seemed to be talking to Tron now, while V's attention had moved on to his brothers. Even from here, Gauche could see the smile on his face while he listened to whatever III was so enthusiastically telling him. Perhaps it was just excitement over being here in the first place; III had been the only one of them who hadn't taken part in this bit last time, even though it was impossible he didn't have a full Heart Piece like the rest of his family. It was a scene he would have been hesitant to interrupt even if V didn't have that charming smile on his face. Unfortunately, someone else decided to interrupt it for him, as Smiley announced that it was time for everyone to get into place to officially begin the tournament. Kaito lifted his hand in a wave and walked off, heading back toward the group at the end of the row and the coaster car he'd already claimed for himself. Gauche snuck one last glance at V gracefully leaping into a blue car, and then he jumped over the back and into the seat of a nearby red one. He was already placing the completed Heart Piece he'd received with his official invitation into its place by the time Smiley even got to that part of his preprepared speech. After all, it wasn't like Gauche hadn't done this once before; he knew how this worked. He barely glanced over the course map that popped up—just enough to check where the Trap Points were, so he could avoid them. Smiley started counting down. Finally. Gauche grabbed on to the joystick and leaned forward. "—Three! Two! One! Fire!" Gauche slammed the joystick forward. His coaster car shot out at the front of the pack, around the loop, and out onto the course. He made short work of the first person to challenge him, some friend of Yuma's who he only vaguely recognized. The kid seemed just as happy to be dueling him as he was to be here in the first place, so he didn't feel too bad about knocking him out so early. Maybe later, he'd go find that kid and give him an autograph or something. He didn't see anyone else for a while after that, except for from a distance on some other track. The Duel Coasters were fun and a pretty unique idea, but since they were so spread out, they did make it more of a challenge to actually come across any of the other duelists. Of course, that was part of the fun, but it also meant a lot of time to just think and strategize, and of course, his thoughts very quickly drifted to V and what he might be doing. Was V expecting Gauche to go find him? Was he planning on finding Gauche instead? Was it too early to go find him? It would be fun, dueling him like this again, but it might also be fun to try to get all the way to one of the arenas with him and duel him there. Maybe he could even lead V to the Canyon Field where he'd dueled Yuma last time—although if V had gone back to his preferred deck, he wouldn't be summoning many monsters, so he wouldn't be affected much by the field's penalty— "Gauche!" Gauche's heart skipped a beat. He spun around in his seat. Behind him, swiftly catching up with his car on the same track, was a blue coaster car. The one belonging to V, who stood proudly with one foot on each seat, his hair whipping in the wind behind him like a silver pennant. Gauche had never seen a more beautiful sight in his life. "There you are!" V called out. He brought his duel disk up and bent his knees slightly. "We've got a good mood right here. Gauche, I challenge you!" It wasn’t quite the same, but it was close enough and he knew exactly what he needed to say in return. Gauche scrambled to his feet, grinning from ear to ear as he climbed on top of his car and raised his duel disk. "Heh, you want to fight me? Bring it on!" "You’re both idiots!" Kaito yelled at them as he passed by on a lower track. Gauche could barely hear him over the wind rushing past his head and his heart beating wildly in his ears. To his delight, V's deck was a new one, and he was more than willing to use more straightforward tactics today too. Gauche could tell there was more to the deck than that—that it was probably similar to his first deck in having two mostly different strategies built in—but that just made it feel even more meaningful that V had chosen to save his annoying Burn and Negation effects until he was facing someone else. Right now, V was giving him exactly the kind of duel he loved. Maybe he could make it up to him later by not complaining so much when V switched back to the tactics he loved. Maybe. Of course, just because it wasn't the style V preferred, it didn't mean he wasn't good at it, and he'd learned from his mistakes from the last time they had dueled and he'd lost. He wasn't about to lose today. Very soon, Gauche found himself facing down the final attack with nothing left to defend himself and not enough lifepoints to get through it. "Wait," he said, throwing up a hand, before V could declare his last attack. V hesitated but dropped his own hand, waiting patiently to see what he wanted. Gauche frowned down at the cards in his hand, not really seeing them. What he wanted was for this not to end yet. Not his time in the tournament, exactly, but this time with V. All he'd wanted for the past few days was to be with V again, and now he had it, but as soon as V declared that last attack, Gauche would be rocketed off into the sky to spend the rest of the tournament watching from the stands. Sure, they could see each other again tonight, but tonight wasn't now. "...More than I thought I would," Gauche murmured and chuckled at himself. It was hard to believe he'd been so unsure about his feelings for V a couple weeks ago, when now all he wanted was to remain at his side. He glanced up at V and was suddenly struck by an idea. A fantastic, exhilarating, ridiculously stupid idea. If V didn't yell at him for it, it'd be more than he deserved. Gauche carefully knelt down to grab the throttle and slow his coaster car down a bit. V frowned but also hurried to slow his car down, ending up right on Gauche's tail but not in danger of crashing into him. Gauche grinned at him as he stood up again and dropped his arm, nodding that it was fine to go ahead with the attack. V frowned at him for another moment. He raised his hand and declared his last attack. Gauche jumped. ~*~*~*~*~ One moment, Chris was wondering what on earth Gauche was planning. He would just have to wait and see, he supposed, as he declared the attack that would drop Gauche's lifepoints down to zero. The next moment, he was watching his attack go through, and then Gauche jumped off the back of his coaster car— And the next, he was on his back, looking up into Gauche's grinning face. Gauche was sprawled on top of him, and the track was still whizzing along below them, a constant reminder of just how fast they were still going. Distantly, he saw the seat of Gauche's coaster car fly off into the air without him. Distantly, he thought he could hear the stadium explode with noise, although he was sure they couldn't hear the stadium from here. Distantly, he could feel his heart trying to beat out of his chest and his pants seemed to have suddenly gotten tighter and the words on his arm might have been tingling. The next moment, he wasn't staring up at Gauche's grinning face anymore, because Gauche was kissing him instead. Chris's eyes slipped shut, and he grabbed onto Gauche's fluffy collar as he kissed back, trying to make it clear what a stupid thing that had been through sheer force of lips and desperate clutching hands alone. If Gauche instead got the impression that he was desperate for something else, well, that was also true. "Ha, you should have seen your face," Gauche murmured against his lips. Chris shoved him back just enough to scowl at him. "You idiot," he hissed. "What the hell were you thinking?! What am I supposed to do if—" He decided not to finish that sentence and jerked Gauche down into another kiss instead. He could feel his eyes grow warm just at the thought of what could have happened if Gauche had missed, especially now that his initial shock had faded and the echoes of that panic were crashing down on him. He was an idiot and an imbecile and Chris could no longer think of a future that didn't have him in it. If he'd ended up falling... Well, for one thing, Chris would have blamed himself for the rest of his life for encouraging that stupid risk-taking behavior. "Hey, it worked, didn't it?" Gauche said after a minute, but at least now he had the decency to sound ashamed. But only briefly, because then he grinned and shifted a bit in Chris's lap and said, "Seems like you didn't hate it that much, V." Chris bit his lip to keep himself from doing something stupid, like kicking him off or grinding against his hip. "Get off," he muttered instead. "I still have a tournament to win." "Yeah, yeah." Gauche carefully rolled over and slid down into the second seat of the car. "You'd better win it, 'cause now you're playing for both of us. That was pretty mean, you know. You couldn't've waited to knock me out 'til we were Underground, at least?" Chris took a moment to collect himself before he sat up and slid down into his seat beside him. "I couldn't wait that long to see you," he murmured. "Next time." Gauche snorted lightly. "That's your fault. You could've come and found me last night. I was looking for you." "If I had found you last night, we would never have made it back to the party," Chris said, determinedly keeping his eyes on the track in front of him and not anywhere near Gauche. His throat felt very dry just saying that. Gauche chuckled and placed a hand on his thigh as his leaned over to murmur closer to his ear, "Oh, so you picked a time when we had to behave instead, huh? How responsible, V." Chris tensed and glanced over at him and that cheeky grin on his ridiculously handsome face. He was right, of course; Chris did not trust himself to keep his hands to himself at this point if they were anywhere more private. But rather than say so—again—he grabbed Gauche's collar and tugged him into another kiss. Gauche made a faint noise and cupped the back of Chris's head with his hand as he enthusiastically kissed back. His fingers sank into Chris's hair and curled against his scalp, and Chris had to fight back a moan of his own. Maybe he should have just gone and found Gauche last night. He'd been somewhat nervous that Gauche was going to turn him down—even after Kaito had mentioned that Gauche had been asking about him—so he'd wanted to give Gauche the opportunity to cut ties in public and not feel pressured into accepting their bond, but it would seem he'd had nothing to worry about. Gauche's answer after all that thinking was obviously the same as his. And they could have spent all night repeating that answer over and over. Oh well. It wasn't like last night was the only night they ever could have had. Tonight would be just as acceptable. "It's Chris," he murmured as he finally pulled away. Gauche stared at him, looking bewildered. "Huh?" "You don't have to keep calling me 'V'. You can call me Chris. V is...not someone I want to be with you." Gauche stared at him for another moment, still looking somewhat bemused. Then he grinned and leaned in for one more quick peck. "Good. Chris suits you better," he said against Chris's lips. Then he fell back into his seat and pointed dramatically forward. "All right, Chris, let's go win a tournament!" Chris rolled his eyes, but he couldn't help but smile a little as he pushed the joystick forward, urging the coaster car to catch up with the rest of the contestants. "Of course." ~*~*~*~*~ When they glided into the Space Field some time later, someone was already there waiting for them: Mizael...and Kaito. Chris immediately turned the joystick to take them back out. "Oh, we'll find somewhere else. Don't let us interrupt you—" "Wait, Chris—" Kaito called before they could get anywhere. "I'm not here to duel. I'm just a spectator like him," he said, gesturing at Gauche. Chris glanced over at Gauche. He looked just as surprised as Chris felt. Chris shrugged and pulled the coaster car to a stop so they could both jump down. If that was the case, then there was no reason to leave, though he was having trouble believing it. "You lost already?" Chris asked as they walked across the field to where Mizael and Kaito were waiting. Kaito scowled and jabbed his thumb over his shoulder. "This guy couldn't wait and demanded a duel before we even got to the Underground. Kinda like someone else I know." Mizael flipped his hair back from his shoulder. "What's the fun in waiting until we're here? We duel like this all the time. Isn't the point of today to have fun with those rolling coasters?" He glanced over at Gauche and finally looked a tiny bit apologetic as he added, "Looks like you couldn't find me in time. That's a shame; I was looking forward to it." "S'not like we can't duel some other time," Gauche said with a shrug. Chris eyed both of them with surprise. When Kaito had mentioned that Gauche had wanted to talk to Mizael about him, he hadn't considered that it might include making plans to duel each other. Although now that he thought about it, it shouldn't surprise him at all; of course Gauche would want to duel someone as skilled as Mizael. Maybe he really shouldn't have taken Gauche out so early... "Since we're all here, why don't we have a Tag Duel?" Chris suggested after a moment. Gauche whirled toward him, a grin already breaking out on his face. "Can we do that?" "I don't see why not. As long as we both agree to it," Chris said with a nod to Mizael, "and how it might affect the results, it shouldn't be a problem." He could probably mention that this whole tournament was basically his idea in the first place, so if anyone should be allowed to bend the rules a little, it was him...but he wasn't going to. The people who needed to be aware of that—the ones who had the authority to say whether they could have a Tag Duel or not—were already aware of it. "Interesting. I did want to duel you one-on-one...but as he said"—Mizael nodded at Gauche—"we could do that anytime. I've never Tag Dueled with Kaito before..." He looked briefly over at Kaito, who nodded back at him, his duel disk already back on his arm. Mizael turned back to Chris with a smirk. "Very well. We'll accept this duel." Chris smiled as he turned away to get into place, Gauche trailing along next to him. Absently, he wondered how Smiley was faring right now; not only had he had to account for Gauche and Kaito sticking around long after they should have left, but now he was going to have to scramble to announce a Tag Duel in which half the participants were no longer part of the tournament. He half expected Smiley to cut in at any minute; these fields weren't completely cut off from the main commentary, after all. "You better not drag me down, Chris," Gauche said with a grin as they stopped and turned back around to face their opponents. Chris smirked, thinking back to the last time he'd heard very similar words from Kaito. That had also been against a Barian, though a considerably less friendly one under considerably more urgent circumstances. That had seemed like fate, and so did this, facing down his dearest friend and his soulmate with his own soulmate at his side, just because they wanted to. "I wouldn't dream of it. There'll be plenty of time to drag you down later." Gauche snorted, but he was still grinning when Chris smiled over at him. "Oi, not in front of all the kids." "My apologies. Shall we?" Chris and Gauche raised their duel disks in unison, and across the field, so did Kaito and Mizael. "Duel!" ◁◁ Part 2: Hailing