#the translation threw me for a second (plus I needed to get familiar with the train system first klfjslfj)

[sillyfudgemonkeys]

Me: I’m ok. Narrator: She was not ok. She was trying to learn Tokyo’s train system to figure out where P4MC’s last residence before P4 was. Me: Either this is a made up station in, or this is from Nagano, but if it is the latter why didn’t he just go straight to Inaba from there? Why stop in Tokyo????

[the-silentium]

A story of shirts

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 -  The survivor - Part 4 - Epilogue

Pairing: Bad Batch x Reader, Hunter x Reader, Crosshair x Reader

Words: 2774 words

Warnings: TESTOSTERONE.

A/N: Reader’s native language is *roll drum* French! Really original, I know! Translations will be at the end of the chapter ~

Taglist: @haloangel391​

"You gonna eat that?" Wrecker asked from your right, his chubby pointer finger signaling to your half-eaten piece of bread. 

"Yeah." You confirmed, taking more of the ration pack, reaching for the bread to illustrate. 

"Too bad." He stole the piece before you got a hold of it, hurrying to stuff it in his mouth as soon as you reached forward to take it back. 

"Wreck! It was mine!" You whined, hitting his shoulder multiple times in retaliation. 

"Cut it out." Hunter called from his spot on the other side of the fire, shooting the both of you an unimpressed glance over his water canteen. 

"But he-!" You cut yourself, not wanting to pout like a baby, instead taking a deep breath in and planning your revenge like a petulant child. 

You've been with the Batchers for a good year, flying them around different systems, perfecting your flying skills as well as developing some basic medical ones to help them when needed. 

So far, no one from the GAR noticed that you were a fraud among the army, letting you enough time to read about the GAR and become more familiar with the whole system and chain of command. You had now all the knowledge necessary to keep the lie going without a hitch. Hell, even Cody never connected the dots. 

Over time the relationships between you and each of the boys improved to the point where Wrecker would call you his vod'ika and you'd call him your frangin. 

Tech exploited his extended knowledge to gain a serious advantage over his brothers once a month. He would generously share his secret stash of candies with you whenever the first day of your period started (you were sure he did that to stay in your good favors and keep your irritation away from himself - which was working, fortunately for him). 

Crosshair would share some of his precious secrets blackmails so you could use them when the others were being annoying shits and kindly taught you how to properly shoot with blasters so you could defend yourself better.

Hunter used you as his personal enhanced senses painkiller, meaning that he'd requisition you for an hour when his head felt like it was on the verge of exploding from overstimulation, sit on the floor facing you, lean his head on your chest and listen to you singing a soft lullaby in your native tongue. 

Out of the corner of your eyes, you noticed Wrecker getting up from his seat on the ground beside you to get to the ship, passing right behind you to get to his destination. Swiftly, you straightened your hand, turned around and pushed the back of his knee forward to bend it with ease. 

Smirking, you admired your handy work when Wrecker yelped in surprise that his knee just gave up underneath him and crashed to the ground. 

You laughed wholeheartedly, covering Crosshair's snickers who watched you the whole time because he knew you'd serve his brother a good payback for taking your precious food. 

"You want to fight vod'ika?" Wrecker asked jokingly from his kneeled position a few feet away. 

"Bring it on frangin!" You replied, pushing your dry rations down your throat with a big gulp of water. That was something else that took some time to get used to. Tasteless water meant good water. Don't spit the good water. 

"Here we go again." Sighed Tech, rolling his eyes at banter. 

"Don't be a grinch, Tech. That's Crosshair's role." You flicked his shoulder and ignored Cross glare to get up and meet the big man who instantly went to poke your side. 

He'd learned his lesson a while ago when he punched your shoulder playfully and let you a gigantic bruise on your skin that lasted for weeks. Hunter genuinely thought that he'd hit you hard (he did, but Wrecker was excited, so you weren't mad) leading to the 'no hitting your teammates' rule. Wrecker felt bad for a while but soon you got him to cheer up and instead of fake fights, you'd do poking fights. 

Jumping to the side, you moved your foot behind his knee to repeat your previous trick, effectively making him fall on one knee and pushed him on his back with all your strength. 

As soon as he was on his back you poked his stomach, not too hard to make him sick, he just ate after all, but enough to mark your point. 

"That's for my bread!" You laughed, dodging his hands trying to grasp yours to stop you from assaulting his abdomen. 

He finally got a grab of your wrists, joined them in one of his hands and attacked your sides with his free hand, poking to the right places to have you yelp and trash around. 

"Stop! Stop!" You shrieked, pulling on your arms to free them. 

"As you wish." He grinned, opening his hand when you pulled with all your might, your elbows hitting your own abdomen and emptying your lungs from their precious air. 

You groaned for a few seconds, recovering from the blow sprawled over Wrecker's chest unceremoniously. His laugh resonated through your body, the vibrations shaking your bones and making your teeth clash together. 

"Still wanna fight?" He teased, head lifted from the ground to meet your unimpressed gaze. 

"Enough for tonight." Hunter cut you off as you opened your mouth to sass him back. 

Closing your mouth without another word, you rolled your eyes and got to your feet, following Wrecker inside the ship to retrieve an extra layer to keep you comfortable under the stars. 

You walked past Wrecker who stopped at the fresher, to enter the barracks to rummage under your pillow for Hunter's top blacks he threw at you the night prior. 

He noticed that you often stole his blacks whenever you felt cold at night in the ship, sliding under the fabric only when you thought they were asleep. You always made sure to replace it before he woke up, always neatly folded like it never left. But he knew. Your scent lingered on the fabric, a fact you forgot to think about, not that he minded. After a couple of times, he started to simply throw the blacks at your face before laying down on his bed. He knew you never got used to the cold of space, your skin remembering the constant warmth of the jungle, letting you vulnerable to any change of temperature. 

You slipped the blacks over your head, the fabric covering your three-quarter sleeve shirt without a hitch and offering you the extra warmth needed for you to be able to find sleep instead of chattering teeth for the whole night. 

Now ready to go out and bury yourself under your blanket near the fire, you walked out with a pep in your step, eager to lay down and relax for the remaining hours before a new assignment arrived and forced you all away on some dangerous mission. 

"Acceptin' the markin'?" Wrecker appeared from the fresher, wiping his hands on his pants. 

"What?" You stopped, confused at his question. Did you have ink on your face or something? 

"He means this." Crosshair answered for his brother, walking further into the ship to pinch the shoulder of the blacks on his way to his bunk where he retrieved an extra blanket for himself. 

"What about it?" 

"You're only wearin' Hunter's." He remarked, toothpick dancing between his lips. 

"Wrecker's are way too big and you'd strangle me with the sleeves if I took yours." You pointed out, a hand moving to your hip. What was his point?

"Why not Tech's?" He approached closer, clearly trying to intimidate you. It may have worked in the beginning but this era was long gone. 

"Last time I did he started hiding them so I wouldn't do it again. What is this about?" The two of them shared a look and you knew they had information you didn't, and the mere idea of it made your heart speed up a bit. 

"It wasn't Tech who hid them." Crosshair faced you again, his arms crossing at his chest, the blanket folded over one of his arms. "It was Hunter." 

It took you seconds to connect the dot and make sense of everything. Hunter started throwing you his blacks the night after you borrowed Tech's and after that, you couldn't find his anywhere again. You'd accepted the gesture and never questioned it afterward, simply thinking that he cared about your sleeping habits or something. 

He did care. But for a totally different reason. 

"He's jealous." You whispered, eyes widening to Crosshair's delight. 

At the back of your mind, a part of you was melting, the sergeant's possessiveness flattering you to no end, although another part of you found it was stupid to be jealous of his brother. You noted to talk to him about that later, but you were sure that the subject would arise rather sooner than later if the mischievous glint in the sniper's eyes was anything to go by. 

"He is. So you'll wear this instead." He took a top of his blacks from within the blanket and shoved it onto your chest until you picked it up. 

"Your blacks? Wait. Are you angry at him or somethin'?" You eyed the fabric in your hands, rolling the hem between your fingers. This wasn't a good idea. There were ulterior motives to his actions. Always. 

"Just wanna see him boilin'." He replied, rolling his head on the side a bit. 

"You wanna call him on his bullshit." You pointed out, one eyebrow slowly lifting in the air, unimpressed.

He didn't respond but his smirk told you enough, and the longer he held your gaze, the wider the grin creeping its way onto your lips became. Yes, you had feelings for the dark-haired clone, but you were fundamentally a prankster. Always in for a good laugh. Plus, what problems can a shirt do? It's a shirt!

You removed Hunter's blacks, keeping a hold of your undershirt so you wouldn't show too much to your brothers and quickly slipped into the new shirt. Sadly, the sleeves were a bit tight so you had to adjust your undershirt sleeves but you manage to replace them easily. 

You rolled Hunter's black into a ball and throw it onto your bed. 

"Don't be mean." You threatened Crosshair with a finger under his chin.

"And you don't drool all over it." He took his toothpick from his lips to poke your fingers with it. You hissed and he threw it away. 

You walked out with Cross at your side, Wrecker choosing to walk before you so you would all be close enough to see the shift in Hunter's expression. If the boys were right, that is. 

Unfortunately, Hunter seemed too engrossed in his conversation with Tech to notice your shirt so as soon as you all sat onto your respective blankets, yours placed between Wrecker's and Tech's, you leaned slightly forward toward Crosshair. 

"Thanks for the shirt Cross!" You smiled at him. 

In the corner of your eyes, you noticed Hunter straighten, head moving to you despite Tech still addressing him. Cross grunted in acknowledgment, already watching Hunter and was clearly enjoying what he saw. 

Your eyes moved to the sergeant's, who was now deeply frowning, too concentrated on analyzing your shirt that he didn't notice the four pairs of eyes scrutinizing his face, three playful, one confused. 

"What's wrong?" Tech asked, head-turning to you to see what disturbed him that much. As soon as his eyes fell on you he knew. And you felt stupid for being the last one to notice that this was happening. "Ah." That you've been stupid enough to let yourself fall into a territorial fight. 

"Not to your liking, Sarge?" Crosshair sassed, enjoying the tightness in his brother's jaw.

You started to feal really bad. And confused. Was Crosshair really interested in you too? You knew Hunter cared about you, the kisses, the hugs, the moments of vulnerability shared with one another, they all told you that you meant something more. But Crosshair’s behavior really started to contradict everything you thought you knew about him.

"What's that?" He turned to confront his brother, catching on to the fact that he'd been played as soon as he registered the smugness coating Crosshair's face. 

"Cut the crap. 's just a shirt." He rolled his eyes at Hunter's barely concealed annoyance. But it wasn't just a shirt. Not to them. 

It started to dawn on you that this was a terrible idea and that you've been played and that- oh shit Hunter's fingers closed to form a fist entangled in his blanket.

"Stop right there." You hurried to cut Hunter's words that you just knew would start a bickering war. You had to stop it before it could deteriorate to something bad because you didn't trust Crosshair to not put oil on the fire and hit every single one of his brother's nerves. To top it all, he was the one right next to Hunter. This was getting dangerous.

" 'm not wearin' anyone's shirt." 

You removed the blacks, ignoring the concert of grumbles telling you not to, rolled it in a ball, switched the ball with Tech's and used it as your personal pillow. You laid down on your back and pulled the blanket tightly around yourself, eying the stars above like you used to on Fors. 

You seemed to have done the right thing, because the rest followed your example, Tech's head burying itself in his new pillow inches from yours. A yelp from Crosshair soon followed by a smack in retaliation made you sigh, effectively cutting short their childish behaviors. 

It took a couple of minutes until the sergeant heard what he was waiting for, a soft clattering muffled by the blanket covering your mouth, the sound of your hands moving up and down your arms in hope of creating warmth and your irregular breathing that you controlled enough to keep it down but not enough to keep it steady. 

The boys had fallen asleep, Wrecker's snores echoing between the trees around, Crosshair's and Tech's soft regular breathings were easy to distinguish. 

"Y/N." He called softly to not wake his brothers, his eyes already on your subtly shaking form. "I know you're cold." 

You turned your head in his direction, frowning. 

"So? I won't get the shirt back on." You whispered, gaze moving to Tech to make sure he was still sleeping. 

"Good. C'mere." He lifted the corner of his blanket, to which you raised an eyebrow. 

"Sharing your blanket to prove yourself better, now?" 

"Just…" He pointed to the spot next to him with his head. "C'mere." 

You huffed while sitting up to look around, the three remaining clones were still out, their peaceful face illuminated by the dying fire in the center of your circle. Carefully, you got up with the fabric tightly wrapped around your shoulders, stepping over Tech's hand and reached the offered spot. 

Immediately you felt the warmth radiating off him and like a moth to a flame, you wrapped yourself around him without shame because you needed this. And because it was so unfair that he could regulate his temperature while you couldn't, so you decided that he had to share. 

Clearly, he didn't mind, his arms sneaking around your waist to keep you close and offer you more of his body heat, his head leaning down a bit to breathe in your bewitching smell and place a kiss onto your hair just as you snuggled closer and leaned your head onto his chest, one of your legs sneaking between his to get more comfortable. 

"Better?" His chest rose and downed slowly, unlike the beating of his heart beneath your fingertips. This was the first time you had this much contact with each other, the feeling not lost on either of you. 

"Yeah." You moved your head to place a kiss under his jaw and reposition yourself. "Didn't know he even liked me." You whispered, finger moving in circles over his heart, asking yourself how did this happen?

"He liked you after our first time on Fors. He was a goner after the second time." He explained truthfully, the memory of the second trip onto this godforsaken planet made him shiver in dread. How people could live in this hell was beyond his comprehension. 

You noticed his reaction and automatically reached up to dissipate the trauma with a slow movement of your fingers over his cheeks. 

"But I was there first." He smirked, arms tightening around you somewhat.  

"Don't start." You smacked his chest softly to which he quietly laughed.

--

Frangin = Brother

Next part here: A story of having each other’s back

[tiramisiyu]

【未定事件簿】Tears of Themis: Main Story 6-13 Translation

Translation Masterlist | Video

Chapter 6 – Tiger’s Accomplice Ghost (Parts 1, 2): 6-1 / 6-3 / 6-5 / 6-7 / 6-9 / 6-11 / 6-13 / 6-15 ♦️ ♦️  6-16 / 6-18 / 6-20 / 6-22 / 6-24 / 6-26 / 6-27 / 6-28 / 6-29

--

Fu Qiao’s House

Tuesday night 8:00PM, we arrived at Fu Qiao’s house. Fu Qiao and Zhou Nan co-rented a place, so it sounded like they were somewhat richer than other university students, but the area of the place they lived in was actually very small.

MC: This house is just about 30 square meters, right.

On the left of the entrance was the washroom, and on the right, there was a very simple kitchen. There was a washing machine right under the induction stove. Deeper inside, there was a bed and book table. You could see everything in one look – the room was small enough that there wasn’t space for excess seating.

Fu Qiao: More or less. Rent in the middle of the city is expensive, and we can’t afford any larger.

Zuo Ran: Campus housing has cheap rent. You and Zhou Nan were both students, so why not rent a place there?

Fu Qiao: Nannan… didn’t go to school often. She spent more time going to the bar.

Fu Qiao: The transit here is convenient. You can take the subway to directly get to the bar or school.

MC: How many transit lines do you have to take to get from here to Xunye?

Fu Qiao: You take Line 7 to Changzhou Station, then switch to Line 3 to Jinyang Street to get there.

Zuo Ran: Isn’t it alright to take Line 7 straight to the bar? Having to switch rides must be troublesome.

Fu Qiao: Xunye Bar is on the other side of the road. If you get off the stop on the bar’s street, you’ll have to walk quite a distance over. Taking Jinyang Street is relatively closer.

Fu Qiao: From C exit, Xunye is a few steps east.

>Fu Qiao is lying!

MC: (Fu Qiao is lying. If he never knew where Xunye was, then how could he be so familiar with switching rides on the subway to get there!)

I pretended to casually shoot Zuo Ran a glance, and our eyes met. It was obvious that we were thinking the same thing.

MC: After Zhou Nan’s accident, you didn’t move back to live around on campus? You can save on costs like this.

Fu Qiao: No. I’m already in my fourth year of university, and I’m mostly focusing on internships and looking for work, so I don’t really go back to school.

Fu Qiao: Plus, we rented this place early on – we rented in first year. Rent was cheap back then, and it hasn’t risen these past few years.

Fu Qiao: It’s now really hard to find a place nearby at this price, so I didn’t back out of renting this place for future work convenience.

MC: That’s true. Real estate prices have grown fast in these past few years.

Fu Qiao: Ah, look at me, I forgot that I don’t have extra chairs at home, letting you two stand while talking.

Fu Qiao: In the past when Nannan and I were at home, it would always be one person sitting on the bed while the other sat on the chair. If we placed more around, they wouldn’t see any use.

Fu Qiao: Please wait for a bit, I’ll go borrow some from a neighbour.

Zuo Ran: Thank you for your trouble.

--

As Fu Qiao was gone, Zuo Ran and I could take this opportunity to observe if there were any clues in Fu Qiao’s house.

MC: Lawyer Zuo, have you noticed where things aren’t quite right in this house?

Zuo Ran: Mm, there are several places.

>Select: Closet

MC: Lawyer Zuo, look at that transparent closet.

The doors of the closet in Fu Qiao’s place were transparent – it could be considered as a sort of simplistic, industrial style.

MC: It seems like it’s all male clothing in there. I don’t see any female clothing in there at all.

Zuo Ran: There are few clothes hung in there – it’s clear that there’s still lots of space.

Zuo Ran: But we can’t exclude the possibility that Fu Qiao placed Zhou Nan’s items in a box to keep them.

Zuo Ran: Look at the bottom shelf – there are storage boxes.

MC: But based on my experience in putting away clothes, storage boxes typically contain clothes for other seasons.

MC: The weather’s not cold these days, and the clothes Fu Qiao hung are all unlayered clothes…

MC: Thick clothes like down clothing are probably inside the storage boxes.

Zuo Ran: If we consider that, there are only two storage boxes, so there isn’t space to put Zhou Nan’s clothes.

Zuo Ran: Because even if they were compressed, with the addition of winter bed linings, he would only be able to stuff it inside the closet.

MC: The topmost shelf of the closet is also empty…

MC: Is it possible that Fu Qiao threw away Zhou Nan’s clothes?

MC: But didn’t Zhao Fei say that they were all left for Fu Qiao as mementos? Since they’re mementos, why would he throw them?

This was very contradictory – I had somewhat of a hard time figuring it out.

Zuo Ran: We’ll indirectly ask him later.

 >Select: Closet (2)

MC: This kind of simplistic, industrial-style closet seems to be really popular these days – it’s fashionable.

Zuo Ran: I favour wooden furniture more – they have more of a sense of reality, and they look stable.

Zuo Ran: What about you?

MC: For me…

MC: Seems like there’s nothing I prefer in particular – fashionable or retro, I’m fine with it all.

Zuo Ran: Is that so… I understand.

  >Select: Bookshelf

Zuo Ran: “Basic Applications of Chemistry”, “Calculus”…

Zuo Ran: They should be Fu Qiao’s books.

MC: There isn’t a single book on photography, and there aren’t any pictures in the room like at Zhao Fei’s house…

MC: Even if Zhou Nan didn’t like studying, didn’t go to classes, and didn’t get teaching materials, she should still have photography equipment.

MC: She even went to a bar to work for photography, so she probably truly liked it.

Zuo Ran: There also isn’t any photography equipment in anywhere visible…

Zuo Ran: Photography equipment are expensive items, and they must have been things that Zhou Nan valued, so where could they be kept…?

 >Select: Bookshelf (2)

MC: Lawyer Zuo, you have a lot of collected books in your house, right – are they all law-related books?

Zuo Ran: Half of the second floor at my house is a movies and music room, and half is book room – the books I’ve collected could be considered to be many.

Zuo Ran: Aside from law, there are also movies, philosophy, science fiction, and some original German books.

MC: If there’s a chance, could I borrow some to read?

Zuo Ran: Of course. You’re welcome anytime.

 >Select: Dresser

MC: A guy’s dresser sure is simple…

Zuo Ran: Will a lady have many things on her dresser?

Zuo Ran: Things like skincare products and jewelry?

MC: That’s right! Aside from the skincare products everyone knows about, I’ve even got several kinds of combs.

MC: Such as hairbrushes, toothed combs, round brushes, bristle brushes, et cetera…

Zuo Ran: Is it to deal with different hairstyles?

MC: Of course.

MC: But the toughest part of every day is seeing all the hair that I’ll never be able to fully clear off from the combs…

Just as I’d spoken, I heard Zuo Ran laugh quietly.

MC: If I already got the high-level lawyer qualification, I probably wouldn’t be troubled by this.

Zuo Ran: No, you’ve misunderstood, I didn’t intend to laugh at you.

Zuo Ran: I just feel like you… are very lively like this.

MC: Eh?

Zuo Ran: I don’t see you like this often.

MC: …

Zuo Ran: I’ve learned it from you now. When I go home, I’ll research the different types of combs – usually, I really don’t use this many.

MC: But, Lawyer Zuo, what are you studying up on this for…

Smiling, Zuo Ran shook his head without replying to me.

 >Select: Dresser (2)

Zuo Ran: Most of the things on the dresser are things that males use. There is no indication that a woman lived here.

MC: (Where did Fu Qiao store Zhou Nan’s things?)

 >Select: Bed

Zuo Ran: There is only one pillow on the bed, and the bedsheets are also the dark-coloured style preferred by men…

MC: Yeah. Typically, though the fabrics on often get washed, it’s rare for them to be thrown away, unless if they’re damaged.

MC: For the blankets, quilts, and so on that I’ve bought, I’ll use them for several years.

MC: This is even more so for pillows – I’m reluctant to switch them out after getting used to them…

MC: But Fu Qiao… though it’s a two-person bed, it’s obvious that only one person used the fabrics on the bed.

MC: And it’s the kind that guys prefer…

Zuo Ran: After Zhou Nan’s death, he threw all the things they originally had, and changed to a new set.

Zuo Ran: We can’t exclude this possibility.

MC: Anyway, if it were me, I probably wouldn’t buy fabrics of this style.

--

MC: Looking at Fu Qiao’s house furnishings, it looks just like he’s completely erased all the indications of Zhou Nan living here.

Zuo Ran: Someone who loved deeply, who couldn’t retain in time the indications of his partner’s life after she passed…

Zuo Ran: He must be hiding something if he’s cleared everything out so cleanly.

Fu Qiao was taking a bit of a long time borrowing chairs, so Zuo Ran and I waited for quite a while before he came back.

--

Fu Qiao: My apologies, the neighbours around all get off work late, so most of them aren’t home.

MC: No need to worry, we were the ones to trouble you.

Fu Qiao: You can’t say that…

Fu Qiao: After Nannan passed, very few people still thought of her. Thank you for worrying and running around for her.

Zuo Ran: We were also entrusted to this by someone.

Fu Qiao: Uh, was it Nannan’s big brother? I’ve seen him a few times, though we’re not very familiar.

Fu Qiao: As for Nannan’s mother… she’s already emigrated to another country with her new family. After Nannan died, she only gave a call.

MC: …

Fu Qiao: You two said before that Nannan was murdered, so you mean… she didn’t use illegal drugs herself?

Zuo Ran: Yes, we suspect that Zhou Nan was deliberately murdered, so we wanted to get an understanding of the situation from you.

Zuo Ran: You should be the person who is the most familiar with her in this world.

Fu Qiao: How could that be… how could she have been murdered…

MC: Mr. Fu, do you mean that it’s not possible for someone to have murdered Zhou Nan?

Fu Qiao: Though Nannan worked as a bar waitress, which is kind of… you know, but she probably never started a feud with anyone.

>He didn’t approve of Zhou Nan!

MC: (With Fu Qiao’s tone, it’s clear that he doesn’t approve of bar waitressing!)

Fu Qiao: Ugh, I don’t know where to start, so ask as you please.

INTERROGATION START

Relations with Zhou Nan

MC: Mr. Fu, we just saw you burn the paper cranes – the relationship between you and Zhou Nan must have been excellent.

Fu Qiao: Mhmm, Nannan was my first love, as well as the only person I’ve ever liked up to now.

Fu Qiao: If not for Nannan’s incident, I had already prepared to marry her after graduating from fourth year, which would be next year.

Zuo Ran: Mr. Fu, I presume you aren’t a native to Stellis City and did not attend the same school as Zhou Nan. How did you two meet?

Fu Qiao: I’m not a Stellis City citizen – my family lives outside of the city.

Fu Qiao: I don’t really like to interact with people in real life. Instead, I chat with friends online more.

Fu Qiao: Nannan and I met online. I first liked the scenic pictures she took, then got to know her.

MC: Scenic pictures? Were they posted on social media?

Fu Qiao: Yes. We were both in high school back then, and there was lots of pressure to study, so I liked to look at her pictures to relive pressure.

Fu Qiao: During then, I vaguely felt like I liked Nannan, and I wrote in the Gaokao* that I aspired to go to Stellis City.

Fu Qiao: After we met offline when first year started, we officially started dating.

Zuo Ran: Looks like Zhou Nan’s photography skills are excellent.

Fu Qiao: Mhmm. To me, the pictures she took were the most beautiful.

 TL Note:

*Gaokao are China’s standardized tests for university admissions.

Locations of Zhou Nan’s Works

MC: Have you still kept Zhou Nan’s works?

MC: I don’t seem to see any in your house.

Fu Qiao: About this…

Fu Qiao: I… I burned all the photos…

MC: Burned them? Why?

Fu Qiao: Missing someone after seeing related things will only make me sadder.

Fu Qiao: Not just her works – I either donated all her things or burned them.

Fu Qiao: I feel like I won’t be able to walk free all my life if I leave those things at home.

Talisman

MC: If I may be so bold, is the thing on your neck… an talisman?

MC: If you keep it so close on you, was it something left by Zhou Nan?

Fu Qiao: Ah, this…

Fu Qiao: This is an talisman, but it wasn’t left by Nannan. It’s a symbol of peace that I prayed for at Yunxia Temple.

Zuo Ran: Could you take it out for a look? I’m just purely curious.

Zuo Ran: I’ve always wanted to go to Yunxia Temple to pray for one, but work is too busy, and I never have time.

Fu Qiao clutched at his collar, looking somewhat agitated.

Fu Qiao: Sorry, the master said that it’s best to not show it to anyone aside from family – otherwise, it won’t work.

Zuo Ran: I’m sorry, I acted impolitely.

The moment Fu Qiao put down his hand, I noticed that the bottom of his index finger seemed to be a bit thinner than the upper part…

MC: (Is this… the mark left by a ring?)

MC: (If one wears a ring for a long time without taking it off, day or night, then it’ll leave this kind of mark.)

MC: (A lot of people who wear wedding rings are like this.)

MC: (Ring…)

  Bar Waitressing

Zuo Ran: A hobby like photography is very costly – after all, the equipment is very expensive.

Zuo Ran: Was Zhou Nan’s financial situation alright? Did she have any financial conflicts with anyone?

Fu Qiao: Nannan’s costs were indeed large, but she was a girl that strove for self-improvement and always relied on herself to work for money. She never took on any loans.

Fu Qiao: If she didn’t have to deal with these costs, she wouldn’t have worked as a bar waitress.

MC: Mr. Fu… you must not have been willing for Zhou Nan to be a bar waitress?

Fu Qiao: Of course I wasn’t willing. This job is both tough and dangerous. Aside from drinking every day and damaging her body, those guests…

As he spoke, Fu Qiao clenched his fist.

Fu Qiao: Those guests became handsy with her quite a few times.

Fu Qiao: Though Nannan wouldn’t stay out for the night, but…

Zuo Ran: When did you find out that Zhou Nan was a bar waitress?

Zuo Ran: You considered Zhou Nan’s convenience of transit when you first rented the house, so she must have worked as a bar waitress for a while.

Fu Qiao: At the beginning, I only knew that she worked in the north area. I didn’t know she was a bar waitress.

Fu Qiao: After, she told me that she worked at Xunye, and only said that she was a singer.

Fu Qiao: Nannan’s singing was very good.

Fu Qiao never directly answered the question “When did he find out about Zhou Nan being a bar waitress”. But based on how Fu Qiao described this job, he didn’t seem like he only knew of Zhou Nan bar waitressing after her death – instead, it was like he went to get an understanding of it beforehand.

He didn’t tell the truth, and Zuo Ran and I didn’t persist in these questions, to avoid raising his alert accidentally.

Interpersonal Relationships

MC: Theoretically, if Zhou Nan was murdered by someone, can you think of any suspects?

Fu Qiao: Uh… as of now, I can’t come up with anything.

Fu Qiao: Aside from exams at the end of term, Nannan very rarely went to school. Most of her friends were ones she knew from the bar.

Fu Qiao: If I really had to say, I think that the bar guests are more probable.

Fu Qiao: Those people weren’t good people to begin with, and they could have gotten in contact with illegal drugs.

Zuo Ran: But what reason would they have to murder Zhou Nan?

Fu Qiao: Maybe it was love-related jealousy?

Fu Qiao: They’re too far away from my life, so I don’t really know much about it.

Proof He Wasn’t on the Scene

MC: What were you doing on the night of Zhou Nan’s incident?

To avoid making this question seem too offensive, I added a question to it.

MC: When did the police contact you about Zhou Nan’s incident?

Fu Qiao: That night, I was doing experiments at school. Because I was very tired, I headed straight home after the experiment finished.

Fu Qiao: When the police contacted me, it was early morning. I was asleep, and didn’t get to pick up.

Fu Qiao: I only knew of Nannan’s incident after waking at 8AM and looking at my phone.

MC: Didn’t you say that Zhou Nan has never stayed out for the night? Didn’t you get in touch with her when she didn’t get back at night?

Fu Qiao: …

A flash of panic passed over Fu Qiao’s face, and he recovered his calm very quickly.

Fu Qiao: She had keys. If she got back late, she would open the door herself.

Fu Qiao: I originally thought that she would return at 2-3-o’clock – this was also a frequent occurrence.

MC: Is that so…

MC: Did you usually pick her up after she got off work?

Partners will typically do this, right?

Fu Qiao: I’ve brought it up before, but it’s too far to go back and forth. As a non-local, I’m not familiar with the north area, and the public safety there is bad, so Nannan didn’t let me go.

Fu Qiao: She said that she had a friend that lived near us. If she couldn’t make it to the last train, then she’d come back with her friend.

MC: If so… you’ve never gone to Xunye Bar?

Fu Qiao: I’ve never gone. I’ve also only heard Nannan casually bring up Xunye’s address.

Chen Hanzhang

MC: Mr. Fu, do you know this person?

I handed Chen Hanzhang’s photo to Fu Qiao. He just hastily swept his gaze over it.

Fu Qiao: I don’t know her. Who is she?

Zuo Ran: She’s called Chen Hanzhang. She went to Xunye that night, and she is also suspected of illegal drug trafficking.

Fu Qiao: Do you suspect that it was her who killed Nannan?

Zuo Ran: We only suspect her. We have no evidence, and we also can’t find a motive for her to kill Zhou Nan.

Fu Qiao: She doesn’t look like a good person, but I’ve never met her.

Fu Qiao kept his head lowered the whole time he was speaking, and he never looked at Chen Hanzhang’s photo again.

Zuo Ran: …

Drug History

MC: Do you know about how Zhou Nan has history with drugs?

Fu Qiao: Mhmm, I know about it. But it was very slight, and she went on withdrawal a long time ago.

Zuo Ran: After this matter, didn’t you try to convince Zhou Nan to change jobs?

Fu Qiao: I did… but her income would decrease if she changed jobs, and she wouldn’t be able to make enough.

Fu Qiao: It was me that was useless – I couldn’t help her split the responsibility…

INTERROGATION END

--

After flipping through the analysis record I made before, it seemed like we’d basically asked Fu Qiao all that we needed to ask.

MC: Mr. Fu, we’ve troubled you today…

MC: Eh? Mr. Fu, you grow out your nails? I believe that it’s rare for guys to grow out their nails.

Both of Fu Qiao’s pinky nails had been grown out. The other fingers all had their nails cut neatly.

Fu Qiao: Oh, for convenience.

Fu Qiao: Either for experiments or for daily life, there are always places to use one’s nails.

Fu Qiao: It’s not quite the same as when women grow out their nails.

MC: That’s true.

Fu Qiao: That… if there are new developments about Nannan’s cause of death, could you let me know?

MC: Sure. Then we’ll bid farewell.

[dontlikedarkness]

It’s Courtney’s wedding day and she runs away with Duncan.

this probably isn’t anywhere near what you were looking for - i mean, it’s certainly not what i had in mind when i first started writing it, but i’m pretty proud of the way it turned out. either way, i hope you enjoy it :) read below the cut!

this can also be found on ao3 here.

It wasn’t supposed to turn out like this. None of it was. She hadn’t budgeted for mistakes; hadn’t budgeted for split-second decisions, nor for infuriatingly charming strangers.

Everything was planned, down to the very last minute. It would be a simple wedding - classic, traditional, and no-nonsense. Her dress was white and plain, flattering but not extravagant. The cake was three tiers in all, with pretty lace-patterned fondant. Vanilla. And vanilla frosting. White tablecloths, red roses, four bridesmaids and four groomsmen. It was symmetrical, it was organized; it was perfect.

She smiled at herself in the mirror, watching behind curled lashes as her sister finished up on the last curl. She raked her fingers through it, satisfied when it bounced into place, natural but not pretentious. Not a strand out of place.

Silence filled the room, heavy and demanding. She hummed along to the faint noise of the radio while her veil was pinned into place, hoping to avoid the questions she knew they all had.

“Are you sure you want to go through with this?”

Bridgette was shushed rather quickly, but the damage was done.

She stood, smoothing an invisible crinkle in the lap of her dress. Her smile was carefully crafted - meant to exude an air of contentedness, a mask to cover the nerves currently churning up her insides. She was glad, now, that Heather had insisted on one last tequila shot while she was still an unmarried woman. She’d need the courage.

“I love him.” Not at a lie.

She did love him. Always had. They’d grown up together - had first met as children, barely old enough to be in school, tailing after their parents at what had likely been a business meeting, but had been proposed as a playdate.

He’d flashed her that winning smile as she peered between her father’s legs, and she’d been sold. Had thrown a tantrum, in her own right, when it had come time for him to go home. The look on her nanny’s face when she had pouted, quivering lip and all, had been priceless.

Her father’s company went ahead with the plans to merge, and suddenly, they were seeing a lot more of each other. Birthday parties, company dinners - they rode it all out together. Having a familiar face in a sea of unfamiliar ones was a source of comfort. Having been sheltered her whole life, kept out of the public eye and away from the prying eyes of the media, he was a welcomed friend.

The first time a boy broke her heart, she cried to him. In turn, he confided in her. His older brother was the favorite; he felt neglected and alone - and he could talk to her. They could talk to each other. Neither of them could find that elsewhere.

Soon enough, they were both off to college. She was to be a lawyer, and he was preparing to take over the business. They kept in touch throughout it all, even as she made new friends, and found her place, away from home.

The rumors started slowly. A quick catch-up over coffee was branded ‘Childhood Friends Reconnect’; a dance together at a charity event became ‘Alejandro and Courtney: Heating Things Up?’

She didn’t quite know how to feel. Their parents were ecstatic; they could turn their business into a legacy, should they have children. Her college friends were jealous - “Courtney keeps all the pretty men for herself,” Heather would scoff, while Bridgette would only cast her a knowing glance. Everyone had made their minds up for them, without bothering to press for the truth. Alejandro, for his part, did little to dispel the gossip. Every time she tuned into a news channel he would be there, stoking the fires. “We’ve been friends our whole lives,” he told one reporter. “I could do worse,” he told another. There were no outright admissions, but he didn’t deny anything, either.

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise to her when he crashed her graduation ceremony, flashing her a flirty wink and making sure to kiss her cheek for the cameras. “Why don’t we give the public what they want?” He asked her, once they were in private. “I have dinner reservations tomorrow night. 7 o’clock. Black tie. If you’re dressed when I come to pick you up, I’ll have my answer.”

She was ashamed to admit that she’d gone with it. But she’d suffered rejection and heartache enough times to know better than to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Besides - he was the perfect candidate. He was handsome, she’d give him that, and she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t attracted to him. He was charismatic, and incredibly intelligent - he could whip up an argument and win it fast enough to leave anyone reeling in the aftermath. Her parents approved of him. As did her friends, and the media, and as much of the viewing world as bothered to pay attention to the lives of rich corporate kids. So she went along with it. Played the part of the complacent girlfriend, hanging happily off the man’s arm. She played the part so well that soon, not even she could tell fact from fiction.

He was kind. Charming. Treated her well. One glance from him had her melting. Dinner dates became something she looked forward to; holidays were easier, with him by her side. What they’d felt for each other as friends translated well into something more.

Maybe it was a pretty lie she told herself, to keep herself happy. And sane. But her future depended on this man - being with him allowed to control herself, in a way her father never would’ve allowed otherwise. Alejandro knew how ruthless he could be, how self-centered and cruel, and in turn, he allowed her to make her own decisions. To be her own person. Freedom was something she’d never tasted before, and she liked the way it felt on her tongue. No longer was she a pawn in her father’s schemes, surviving by bargaining her way out, and pushing back where she could. It was a fine line she’d been forced to walk, and she relished the chance to spread her wings.

She loved the freedom, and he seemed to be a part of the deal, so she loved him, too.

Gwen laid a gentle hand on her shoulder, startling her from her thoughts. A dangerous path, indeed.

Gwen was likely the only person in the room who knew how she really felt. All of it, not just the sugar-coated lies she told herself and everyone around her. She’d been privy to many a drunken call, when Courtney had known Heather would be too harsh and Bridgette would be too gentle. She needed someone to listen, not someone to coax her through it, nor someone to bring her to her senses.

The others cleared out of the room, and she turned, blinking rapidly to clear her eyes of tears before Gwen could notice. “I’m ready,” she reassured her. And she was. She was ready to be fully her own person, to finally have some agency in where she went and with whom she associated and what she wore, without her father breathing down her back, telling her it would reflect poorly on him; on the company.

She took a deep breath as Gwen, too, left the room. This was it. Once her father had given her away, she’d be clear. She only had to make it down the aisle, say those two words, and she’d be herself again. Just Courtney - nobody else. No expectations.

She carried herself with pride as she made her way towards the church doors, her train bundled up in her fists to keep it from dragging. There were ten minutes until the official start of the ceremony, and her father wouldn’t be there any sooner.

If he was anything, it was punctual.

“In a hurry, princess?”

She stumbled, knocked off-balance by the stranger’s sudden intrusion into her thoughts. He held out a hand, and she took it, holding it long enough to notice the calluses there, on his palm. The bite of cold metal from his rings was in stark contrast to the warmth of her skin, and she found her breath hitching as she steadied herself.

“A friend of Gwen’s, then,” she mused out loud, taking in his less-than-professional attire. Given the metal in his face and the green dye in his unkempt hair, wrangling him into a suit that was even semi-presentable had to have been a feat of sheer will and strength on Gwen’s part. “What makes you say that?” He asked, flashing her a smirk that sent her weak in the knees. Get it together, Courtney, she chided herself. You’re spoken for.

“Yeah, I’m a friend of Gwen’s. Her girlfriend couldn’t make it, so I’m the designated plus one.”

“Zoey,” she breathed, barely registering half of what he was saying. Like hell the redhead couldn’t make it. She knew Zoey well, and she knew she wouldn’t miss a friend’s wedding for the world. Unless Gwen had other plans, she realized, dark brown eyes widening with recognition.

She whirled upon the man before he had the chance to say more, thrusting an accusatory finger against his chest. “She thinks I’d like you,” she hissed, glaring daggers at him. “Wants me to call off the wedding.” He threw his hands up in defeat, a wicked grin blossoming across his stupid, scruffy face. “No idea what you’re talking about, snowflake,” - a glance at her white attire - “but Gwen seems to have hidden motives for almost everything she does. She’s cheeky, I’ll give her that.”

His eyes softened at the panicked way she moved, nerves and adrenaline combining to tell her to get the hell out of there, now. He gripped her arms so that she’d have to stop moving, just for a second, and really look at him. “I’m Duncan,” he told her, after a beat of silence. “And you’re looking a little too pale for my liking.”

He didn’t move - didn’t try anything, as if waiting for some sort of invisible cue.

It could’ve been the way he carried himself; cool, collected, confident, like he could do whatever he wanted and not worry about anyone stopping him. It could’ve been that she was already searching for an escape, subconsciously, at least, and the shock of seeing somebody so clearly out of place at her wedding was what finally shook her awake. But the tears she’d been holding back for so long fell freely then, and she looked at him, pleading, with a rawness she rarely showed.

“I can’t be here,” she told him, voice hoarse. She didn’t stop him when he took her hand, clenching it so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Didn’t question him when he pushed through those large oak doors, away from the guests waiting inside. She didn’t say a damn thing as he marched her down those stairs, a quiet intensity having replaced the nonchalant look he wore so well.

Never in a million years could she have planned for this. Here she was - a long ways away from the church where she was supposed to be getting married to a man she didn’t love, in a venue she had no attachment to. Her dress was muddy at the bottom, and her veil had come loose several blocks ago, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care.

“I’m free,” she called to the world, half chuckling as her hair whipped about her. She drank in the countryside flying past them, obscured as it was by the motorcycle helmet, wrapping her arms a little tighter around a man she’d never met before, going lord knows where.

He hadn’t saved her. She’d saved herself. He’d merely provided the opportunity.

[alternativewinxcontinuity]

(I’m the one who just sent an ask about Musa but I hadn’t finished yet whoops) do you think she would have problems with her magic underwater or is fighting in water a more common occurrence she might have prepared for. (Would it change in the infinite ocean) Also what do you think about bloom struggling underwater at first (because water conducts heat away from a source better than air) Let me know your thoughts?

Hi! You know how Musa has trouble with her powers working underground in S2 (maybe it was just in Shadowhaunt idk) because of different frequencies and how the air resonates? Do you think she’d have a similar problem underwater 

- [missing text from misfired Ask]

Part of the problem with being underground would be the reverberation, the way sounds bounced back off of the uneven surfaces, but Musa would have some experience with music halls and other inside places that would have helped her get a handle on things if she'd had the time to do so. 

A second part of the problem is the mineral makeup of the caverns, we see crystal structures further in and different crystals have different reaction to vibrations ('new agey' sounding but true), this might have thrown her off a little as well. 

The combination of unknown surfaces (in both shape and composition) would have made it difficult but: this is literally the only time we see her have trouble underground in this way. 

In the first three seasons the group is underground a couple of times, in season 1 they take the catacombs to Cloudtower but we don't see anything more than the girls walking for a few seconds, so it might just not have come up? By the end of the season all of the Winx are in Shadowhaunt and have no apparent trouble, even Flora who had trouble because “there are no living plants down here” which means the writers either forgot, or the girls have been receiving some off screen training to learn how to accommodate  the problem. 

Or the Charmix somehow compensates for them. It should be noted that the reason Musa 'had trouble' was because she threw a sonic bomb into a crevasse in the wall which is always going to destabilise a cave, normal sonar-like attacks would have had less destructive force in their backlash and ended up more like too loud echoes most likely. 

-

When it comes to being underwater, I think Musa actually would have had an easier time adapting than some of the others. 

Aisha obviously would have had little to no problem, and for Musa she would have only had to adjust for the difference in how fast and far sound travels through water as opposed to air, water being a better conductor for sound and allowing it to travel further would basically just strengthen her spells. 

Her home on Melody is shown to be close to a whale site, which suggests Musa is familiar with the concept of underwater sonar and she may even had dabbled with it previously. 

It's hard to say how much trouble Tecna would or should be having adapting to the two environments, I think 4Kids had her unable to even transform, but the other translation don't even mention Tecna being part of the illusionary test Faragonda puts Flora and Musa through in season 2. Despite often being away from obvious technology, (I'm thinking specifically of her time in Omega) Tecna has never seemed to suffer for its lack. 

Flora might have difficulty underwater, since her reasoning for the underground was the lack of plants, it would be interesting to know how much her powers depend on the specific plants around her and whether or not she'd be familiar enough with aquatic plants to realistically adjust her powers accordingly. 

Bloom and Stella realistically should have struggled the most with the change to water. Bloom because of the change in thermal conductivity and because, you know, water is not historically good for fire, and Stella because the speed of light is different in water and changes depending on any  kind of 'contaminant' whether organic or mineral, it would also affect how the light dispersed. 

While Bloom might be able to compensate once she gets used to the difference, (and it would probably take a while) Stella would likely always have a little trouble. 

This of course is all depending on how much 'structural integrity' magic actually gives the spells, how much it does beyond stopping any backlash on the caster and ensuring the energy makes it to the target. (Or next closest surface.) 

The Harmonix and Sirenix are specifically meant for underwater use, so it's likely they come with something that would be considered 'auto correct' for the spells, lessening the difficulty of adjusting for water resistance, water composition and other factors. 

By the time the Winx made it to the Infinite Ocean they'd been on several sub-aquatic adventures and would have been reasonably adjusted to the basics of underwater magic, but given that the Infinite Ocean is supposed to be an ocean which is infinite, there's a chance it has a much higher water pressure than the other oceans they've visited which would have affected all of them a little. 

Admittedly that should be compensated for by the Sirenix, but they might still have to relearn a few steps in their adjustments. It's hard to say whether Alfea would offer a class or classes which deal with learning how to adapt to various environmental impacts on a power type, on the one hand: aquatic Forms exist which should do the job for you, but on the other hand: those Forms have been basically cursed for like, 20 years. 

-

I'm sorry, this is more rambling and incoherent than I wanted, there's just so much left unmentioned in canon that it makes it hard to really discuss these sorts of finer magic details. 

If we go with hard cartoon canon, then the only time the Winx had real trouble underwater was when they dove too deep and water pressure made their wings useless, but even that brings into question: was that a normal thing for all fairies (doubtful since season 3 happened partially underwater), or a specific weakness of the Believix form? 

Since they get their upgrade and go, does that mean the Form compensates for them, or was there some off screen teething problems we didn't get to see? 

Then there's the question of: okay, my specific elemental type doesn't historically do well underwater, but fairies have non-elemental spells which I know several of, how do they fare?

- 

If we're talking Alt Con then I can throw all kinds of things out there like: 

Harmonix and Sirenix compensate for the high pressure of the water, where other Forms are designed to account for low air pressure (or in Astralix/Cosmix case – the vacuum of space), so past a certain depth all non-aquatic Forms suffer for it. 

Part of the Forms is adjusting the structural integrity of spells to work better (or more in line with what a fairy expects) in their specific environment. (So when (underwater) Musa aims a sonic boom here, it goes here instead of blasting everywhere plus a mile extra, or Bloom aims there and her fire based spell makes it there because the spell was insulated for the journey between points A and B.) 

Past a certain depth in the ocean, water doesn't boil, the pressure's too high, the atoms can't move apart properly, but in shallows? Oh you better believe Bloom once tried to 'fire off' a spell and had it flash boil a crap ton of water which exploded on her, Stella has absolutely blinded herself, and yes, once as a child Musa nearly deafened herself while playing with whales.

(Because yes, Alfea has classes on environmental adaptability of elemental based spells, because: “just because specialty Forms exist, it doesn’t mean you’ll have the time to go and get it before you need it, and sometimes getting it is more trouble than it’s worth.”)

[numba99]

Fatal Attraction - Part 7

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Summary: When a mysterious man shows up at your job, you find yourself inexplicably drawn to him - and him to you. But behind the beautiful face is the dark lifestyle of a man who has made his wealth through becoming the most powerful drug dealer in the city. Word count: 2.9k

Song: Ultraviolence // Lana Del Rey

Warnings: like getting hit/physical stuff, mentions of blood. There will be some Russian in this ill include the translations next to it if you’re curious typed like this

A throbbing pain in the back of your head pulled you out of a dreamless sleep. If you could even call be knocked out sleep. Your body stiffened, your head snapping up (your head screamed in protest at this movement) trying to figure out where you were and what happened. Your heart was thudding in your chest as you realized you were bound, your hands tied behind your back around a beam in the center of the room. 

You were scanning the room, desperate for any clue at where you were and, more importantly, how you could get out. It was all barren, though. The lighting was dim, which was good for your head but not for your escape. From the looks of it, you were in some abandoned warehouse in the city. At least you hoped you were in the city. There were no windows, no clock, no way of telling what time it was or how long you’d be knocked out. Panic was creeping in.

“Well, well sleeping beauty finally wakes,” a thick Russian accent chirped from the left of you. You craned your neck and your stomach dropped when you found the source. It was Dimitri.

“What do you want?” you choked out, not realizing how dry your throat was.

Dimitri laughed as he approached you, “Oh sweetheart, let’s not play stupid. It will be a lot easier for you. Less painful too.” You’re not sure you did too well at hiding the fear on your face. Mika hadn't given you dirty details about Dimitri, but even from what he was willing to share you knew he wouldn't spare you because you were a girl.

“What’re you-”

“When’s Mika’s big shipment coming in?” Dimitri cut you off.

“I don’t know,” you replied. It was the truth, Mika never told you. Even if he did, you wouldn’t tell Dimitri anyway.

“I’ll ask you one more time nicely,” Dimitri said, voice dripping with feigned nicety. “When is Mika’s shipment coming?”

“I don’t-” Before you could even get the words out his hand came down and struck your cheek. You gasped, shocked by the pain that spread through you face. Dimitri knelt down so he was eye level with you. He gripped your jaw, thumb digging into your stinging skin.

“You’re a pretty girl, y/n,” Dimitri growled. It sent a chill down your spine that he knew your name. “It would be a shame if I had to mess up this pretty face. Mika wouldn’t like his little play thing anymore, now would he?”

“Fuck you,” you spat, besides your best judgement. Dimitri gripped you tighter, pushing your head back against the beam. It hit the spot you’d been hit before and you practically saw stars.

“Feisty, I see why Mika likes you,” he snarled a twisted smile, “I don’t wanna hurt you, honest. Just tell me when it’s coming and I’ll return your safe to Mika.” Looking at Dimitri, it unsettled you just how dark his eyes were. There was no life behind them, not even a spark of kindness. You didn’t have to know him to know that was a bold faced lie. He didn’t intend to return you. You doubted he even intended to keep you alive. 

“He never told me,” you replied, trying to stay calm. Dimitri slapped you again. It hurt, but at least this time you were ready for it.

“I don’t believe you, y/n,” Dimitri said back.

“It’s the fucking truth,” you snapped, “And I wouldn’t fucking tell you if I did know.” He didn’t like that. He hit you again, hard. Your lip caught your teeth and you could taste the coppery tang of blood in your mouth.

Dimitri reached back, pulling a pocketknife from his waistband. You didn’t miss the gun tucked beside it. God how the hell am I going to get out of this, you thought. 

Dimitri flicked open the pocketknife, pressing it to your throat. “You’re making me angry, y/n. Tell me when it’s coming,” he was losing his composure, anger creeping into his voice.

“I don’t know!” you groaned. He slashed the knife against your upper arm, creating a little gash. You cried out, feeling the sharp pain. You were finding it hard to breath as panic was gripping you tighter than before. He might actually kill me right here right now, you thought. You were starting to lose focus. All you wanted was to see Mika’s face.

“Last chance before I start cutting things off,” Dimitri growled.

Your eyes brimmed with fearful tears, spilling over your cheeks. You didn't know what to say. There was nothing to say. You had nothing to tell him and he refused to believe you. You tried to focus on bracing yourself for what was coming next, for the pain you were inevitably be in. 

“So that's how it’s going to be?” he replied, leaning ever close to you, knife out. “Maybe we cut off an ear, yeah? Mail it to Mika so he knows he needs to teach his women to listen better. How does that sound?” He asked as if you had any say in it.

You were breaking into a sob as the blade got closer to your skin. Just as you were sure you were about to feel the pain of the first cut, yelling in Russian broke out. Dimitri stopped, his head whipping towards the door. A man rushed in, beaten and bloody.

“Mika здесь,” he cried out. You didn’t know what he was saying, but you caught Mika’s name. You perked up with hope. Could it be Mika? Was he here to save you.

“ты можешь удержать его?” Dimitri shot back. can you hold him off

“Его люди уже убили большинство наших парней.” his men have already killed most of ours. Whatever he said pissed Dimitri off. He threw down his knife and yelled out a Russian curse. Gunshots got closer and Dimitri bolted out of a door that you guessed was behind you. The other guy ran back out the other way in what you guessed was an attempt to hold off whoever was coming, but it didn't work.

“Mika,” you cried out, overcome by joy when he rushed in. He lowered his gun, tucking it away when he realized it was just you in the room. He ran to your side.

“Sweetheart oh my god are you okay?” he checked you over, looking for serious injury. It felt so good to have his loving, gentle hands on you instead of Dimitri’s. 

“Yes please just untie me,” you sniffled, wanting desperately to be free. As Mika worked on the rope around your wrists, Chris ran in.

“Where did he go?” He questioned, looking between the two of you. There was some blood on his shirt, but he didn’t look hurt. You realized it wasn’t his.

“He left though the other door,” you told him. He nodded and ran out in that direction. Finally, the ropes fell from your wrists and you spun around, flinging your arms around Mika. He held you so tightly and you didn't care that you could barely even breath. You tucked your head into his neck, breathing in his familiar scent that managed to usher in some calmness into your body.

“Fuck I can't believe this happened,” Mika said, still holding you tightly. You could hear he was trying not to cry. Before you could respond, Chris came back in.

“He's gone,” he reported.

“We have to find him,” Mika snapped, finally pulling away from you, “We have to find him and I’m gonna fucking kill him.”

“Mika we ca’t go after him that’s what he wants,” Chris reasoned with him, “You’d be playing right into his hand.”

“I don’t care, I want him dead for this,” Mika replied.

“Mika, Chris is right” you replied, placing a hand on his face to calm him. Honestly, you wanted Dimitri dead right about now, but in this moment you just wanted to go home with Mika. “Please, Mika, can we just home now?”

Mika soften under your touch. “You’re right, fuck, I’m sorry y/n. We need to get you taken care of, that’s what’s most important now.” Mika put his hand on your arm as he spoke, accidentally touching the gas created by Dimitri. You gasped at the sting of pain from the contact. Mika frowned, looking a the source of your discomfort. 

“Fuck you’re bleeding baby.” He ripped of the sleeve of his shirt without a second thought, tying it tightly around the wound. “Let’s get you out of here.”

You insisted you were okay to walk, but Mika wasn’t hearing it. He scooped you up and you didn’t protest. It honestly felt really good to just wrap your arms around his neck and tuck your face close to him.

“Keep your eyes closed,” Mika told you as he walked towards the door, “I don’t want you to see... the mess.” You did as you were told, keeping your face nuzzled against his neck. You knew what he meant by “the mess,” and you weren’t so much scared or disgusted as you were just exhausted. You were pretty much at sensory overload for the day and didn’t want to take in anymore violence. Plus, you knew Mika hated you seeing this side of what he does, you didn’t want to make him feel any worse about this whole situation. 

“Should I call the doctor?” Chris asked when you finally made it to the shelter of the car. 

“Please. Tell him to meet us at the normal hotel,” Mika replied, buckling you in. He still held you close, gently rubbing your head. It was still pounding, but his touch provided the first sense of relief since you woke up.

“Hotel?” you questioned.

“We need to meet him at a mutual place. Plus it’s not safe for us to go directly home right now, they may still be watching,” Mika told you. You hid your disappointment behind a simple nod. You understood why you had to go to the hotel, but you wanted nothing more than to just be home. 

Mika proceeded to explain to you that the doctor, known only as that or Doc, wouldn’t give his name and that you shouldn’t give him yours. No personal information was to be shared except what pertains to your injury. The purpose was simple, if he didn’t know our names he couldn’t give us up to Dimitri or any of Mika’s foes. If we didn't know his name, we couldn’t put his medical license at risk if Mika was ever investigated. Having the private doctor kept Mika and his people safe without having to create a paper trail at a hospital or something.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed or how far you went, you kept your eyes closed the entire ride, but you finally made it to the hotel. It wasn’t the fancy Mika-esque hotel you were imagining, but you guessed the higher end places would question two people coming in as disheveled as you looked. It wasn’t a dump, though, Mika still had standards. 

Mika pulled out a duffle bag out of the back seat and yanked out two hoodies for you both to wear to cover up, well, everything. He pulled the hood up over your head and kissed your forehead gently before leading you out. Chris had went before you and go the room key, so you were able to go straight up. 

You practically collapsed onto the bed. It wasn’t Mika’s bed, but it was sure as hell better than being bound to a beam by some crazy Russian dude. Mika crawled next to you, gently rubbed your back. He was quiet, which wasn’t completely uncharacteristic of Mika, but you knew he was upset. You didn’t like the look on his face, like he was thinking about saying something you wouldn’t want you to hear.

Before you could ask him what he was thinking about, there was a knock on the door. Chris got up from the armchair across the room and let him in.

“What’s the problem today gentlemen?” he asked looking between Chris and Mika. He was an older man, hair peppered gray.

“We’re fine, she needs the attention,” Mika informed him, “She might have a concussion and she’s got a bad cut on her arm.” The doctor nodded and came over to you, setting his duffle bad down next to you on the bed. He asked you a series of questions about how you were feeling. Your head was hurting, but you weren’t nauseous, which was good. He had you do a few tests, like following a light with your eyes and touching your fingertip to your nose. 

“Well you’re extremely lucky, it seems you may have avoided a concussion. I want you to take it easy, though. Avoid bright lights or anything that will strain your eyes for the next day. Mika I want you to reevaluate her in the morning and tell me how she did. If all is the same, she should be in the clear.” Mika nodded intently and then the doctor moved his attention to your arm.

You winced a little as he removed the make-shift bandage Mika had created. The doctor quickly came to the determination you needed stitches, which he brought supplies to do. You guessed he did a lot of stitching up for Mika in the past. Mika held your other hand as the doctor sutured up your wound. It stung, definitely, but at this point it wasn’t really phasing you. After he finished up, the doctor gave you some Tylenol for your head and left.

“That wasn’t so bad,” you said forcing optimism. Mika still had that sick, stressed look on his face, though.

“Chris, do you mind giving us a minute?” Mika asked, though it definitely was not a question. Chris nodded, stepping out without question. Your stomach churned wondering what Mika was about to say, but to your surprise he started to cry.

“Mika, honey, what’s wrong?” you questioned, rubbing his back.

“Look at yourself, yn. Look at all the pain I caused you,” Mika sniffled. It was an angry, frustrated cry.

“You didn’t do this to me Mika,” you replied.

He shook his head, “But if you weren’t with me this never would have happened. You’re not safe with me.”

“What are you saying?” you questioned, not wanting the answer.

“I just... I don't know if I can be with you knowing this what could happen to you,” he sniffled.

“No,” your heart sunk, “No Mika, you don’t get to make that decision for me. Fuck you can’t just- after everything I just went through? Fuck Mika no, no you can’t leave me. Neither of us want that, it’s what he wants. I won’t fucking let you leave me out of fear.” Tears spilled out of you as you spoke.

Mika pulled you in, hugging you tightly. After a long silence, he spoke, “I’m sorry y/n, you’re right. Jesus I’m just mess right now I don't even know what I’m saying. This was just so fucking horrible. God when I realized you were gone, that Dimitri of all people had you - fuck - I was terrified. I thought I was gonna lose you.” 

“I thought I wasn’t going to see you again,” you admitted. It was scary to say, to acknowledge that you really were close to losing your life. Dimitri would have done it eventually if Mika hadn’t gotten there, you knew that for sure. “But you saved me, Mika. I’m here because of you, you can’t overlook that. I owe you everything.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” he shook his head, “I’d do what I did a million times over to get you back safe. I should have never left your side yesterday, I should have known that was all a set up to get to you.”

“Please stop blaming yourself,” you urged.

“I know, but it just feels that way. It feels awful,” Mika replied, “One things for sure, I’m never leaving you unprotected like that again.”

You nodded, you weren’t too keen on going anywhere on your own right now after all that. It was scary, but at the same time you felt safe with Mika. You knew he was going to do everything to protect you and that brought you comfort.

“Is now a bad time to tell you I want to move in? I wanted to make it special when I told you, but I feel like that’s sort of gone out the window,” you told him with a small smile, trying to lighten the mood.

To your delight, Mika cracked a small smile too. “Nows the perfect time because either you were moving in with me or I was moving in with you.”

You laughed, “I sorta would love to see you trying to live in my tiny ass apartment.”

Mika laughed lightly with you, but in the silence he became more serious. “I love you y/n, and I’m never going to let this happen to you again. I promise,” Mika told you. Your heart nearly stopped at the L word. You felt it too, you knew you loved Mika, you just never put the word to it. In any other relationship you would have thought it was crazy to feel that so fast, but with Mika everything existed on a different plane.

“I love you too, Mika,” You replied, squeezing his hand, “I know you're going to keep me safe.”

Mika kissed your hand, “I will, and that’s why I’m going to kill him.”

You took Mika’s face in your hands, kissing him deeply. You pulled away after a few seconds, looking him right in the eye and said, “We are going to kill him.”

[beevean]

逆転裁判　逆転姉妹 Part 5 (開廷 1)

This part goes from April May giving her first testimony to the end of the trial. Here’s the first part of the trial, and here’s the first part of the entire case.

Sorry if this post is a little longer than others, but I managed to find very interesting things :D

1) Small difference. If you keep pressing April on her first statement Edgeworth will eventually come in and say to Phoenix “Mr. Wright! I will not have you badgering my witness!”. In Japanese he’s more insulting, saying “Defense! I want you to stop this despicable/cowardly conduct!” (“弁護人！卑劣な行為はやめてもらいたい！”)

2) I vaguely referenced it in previous posts, but now I can confirm: April is more “kawaii desu ne” in the Japanese version (for example she talks in third person, elongates vowels at the end, and sometimes uses childish words), and only slightly sexual, while in the English version it’s flipped and she’s much more sexually charged - a small example is how they replaced stars ★ with *wink*. It makes sense considering the different values in the two cultures - in Japan cuteness more appealing than sexiness, and it’s the other way around in the West. The English version put a lot more jokes regarding her, for example her being called “a big far liar” and taking offense only to being called “fat”.

3) Instead of asking “which hand do I hold my knife with”, April asks which hand does she hold chopsticks in. Of course :P

4) Another small difference that I liked. In English, Phoenix says, in response to the Judge asking him to withdraw his question, “But questions are all I have!”, while in Japanese he says “This method is my weapon!”. I like both versions, the English one flows better while the Japanese one highlights how asking questions is Phoenix’s most important asset in the courtroom.

5) If you mistakenly say that April couldn’t have heard the clock from the hotel, in English Edgeworth says “Without [proof], you have nothing. You ARE nothing.” In Japanese he doesn’t insult Phoenix at all, besides calling him rookie. (I guess it’s to compensate for calling him despicable earlier)

6) When Phoenix reveals Maya’s cellphone in court, and Edgeworth gets furious and mutters that he will cut Gumshoe’s salary for his incompetence, Phoenix thinks to himself “My heart goes out to you, Edgeworth. Not.” In Japanese, he simply says “Oh dear, poor thing” (“おやおや、かわいそうに...”), which might be about Gumshoe himself? It’s another case of the English version taking an ambiguous like and translating it to paint Phoenix as more antagonistic towards Edgeworth.

7) This has just been bothering me: the last time April snaps on the stand, she says “Shut up, all of you! What gives you the right to talk to ME like that! You... you LAWYER!”. In Japanese, at the end she says “このタコがぁ！” and... for the life of me I can’t understand the meaning. Does タコ here stand for “octopus”? “Kite”? “Callus”? What slang am I missing??

8) This one threw me for a loop. The GBA version of the game lacks a lot of dialogue compared to the DS port - and therefore the English version - after you ask April if she is the killer or why did she use the wiretap.

if you choose the first option, as soon as Phoenix asks if she did it, April says that at the time of the incident she was getting room service and they can try asking the bellboy, the Judge asks for Phoenix’s next course of action, and then you have to choose whether you want to call the bellboy or keep cross-examining April.

if you choose the second option, the dialogue immediately jumps from the Judge saying “While this court does not condone the defense's tone of speech, he has a point. Well, Miss May? Do you have an explanation for the court?” to April explaining her alibi like above.

In the DS version, there are extra tidbits like April insulting Phoenix, her accidentally revealing she used the wiretap, her guessing what Phoenix was thinking about her and swearing she can prove her innocence, or her saying that she asked for iced coffee and then explaining what it is (plus a bit of a joke where Phoenix repeats in hiragana the English nouns April says in katanaka, because I guess in Japan back in 2001 iced coffee wasn’t well know yet).

This surprised me because up to this point, there haven’t been significant differences in structure! Especially not between GBA and DS! I wonder why they felt the need to do this, and how much they re-wrote the script for the DS port.

8) The infamous “Objection! That was... objectionable!” is in Japanese “Objection! I raise an objection right away!”, with the Judge replying “Objection overruled right away”. とりあえず can mean “right away”, “for the time being”, “first of all” or “at once”, and every one of these options make Edgeworth sound delightfully awkward

9) At the very end of the trial, Edgeworth, instead of saying “T-these accusations are... ludicrous!” (because Phoenix just rubbed in his face how he manipulated the bellboy’s testimony), says “I cannot believe this”, which can either mean “I cannot believe these accusations” or, as I think, “I cannot believe I’ve been upstaged by this amateur”, which would mean that at least my boy is honest with his dishonesty. He also stops calling Phoenix キミ and uses キサマ, because he hasn’t been rude enough apparently.

Enjoy you boob-bouncing nightmares.

襲う　（おそう）　to attack

ちっちゃい　tiny, person with poor character

攻撃　（こうげき）　attack, assault

止め　（とどめ）　finishing blow

ぐったり　 limply, listlessly

それだけ　 no more than that. that is all

疑問　（ぎもん）　doubt, suspicion

ほぼ　almost

弟子　（でし）　pupil, apprentice

粗　（あら）　 flaw, fault, defect​

卑怯　（ひきょう）　coward

どうやら　 possibly, apparently

弱点　（じゃくてん）　weak point

何気ない　（なにげない）　 casual, unconcerned, nonchalant

逸らかす　（はぐらかす）　to dodge

探りを入れる　（さぐりをいれる）　to probe, to investigate

突っ込む　（つっこむ）　 to delve into (a matter),   to press (someone) about

きっかけ　 excuse, motive

卑劣　（ひれつ）　 mean, foul, cowardly

行為　（こうい）　act

すらっと　slender, slim

体型　（たいけい）　figure, body shape

完全に　（かんぜん）　completely, perfectly

ありえない　impossible, improbable

先ほど　（さきほど）　a short while ago

しかたない　it’s no use

反省　（はんせい）　 regret, remorse

参る　（まいる）　 to be defeated

いけない　 wrong, must not do​

とってつけたよう　 out of place, forced, faked

取り上げる　（とりあげる）　to pick up

しんみり　quiet, solemn

遂に　（ついに）　finally, at last​

尻尾を掴む　（しっぽをつかむ）　 to have something on someone, to catch someone out (lit.: to catch the tail)

教え込む　（おしえこむ）　to train to, to give an idea to

口走る　（くちばしる）　to blurt out

目くらまし　（めくらまし）　distraction​, deceptive means

却下　（きゃっか）　rejection, dismissal

意義　（いぎ）　objection

納得する　（なっとく）　to agree, to consent

新人　（しんじん）　rookie

直接関係　（ちょくせつかんけい）　direct relation

切り替える　（きりかえる）　 to change, to exchange

空っぽ　（からっぽ）　empty, hollow

嘘つき　（うそつき）　liar

楽しませる　（たのしませる）　to amuse, to delight, to entertain

抜き取る　（ぬきとる）　to pull out

何やら　（なにやら）　some kind of

見落とす　（みおとす）　to overlook, to fail to notice

ぶつぶつ　grumble, complaint, mutter

筋が通る　（すじがとおる）　to make sense

保険する　（ほけん）　to safekeep, to keep in custody

どうだっていい　 not worth worrying about, trivial​

とっとと　 at once, right away

死刑　（しけい）　death penalty

冷静　（れいせい）　 calmness, composure

マジ切れ　（まじぎれ）　being truly angry​

傑作　（けっさく）　masterpiece, funny mistake

大失敗　（だいしっぱい）　massive failure

話にならない　（はなしにならない）　 not worth considering, out of the question

ごく　quite

要求する　（ようきゅう）　to demand

気安い　（きやすい）　relaxed, familiar

話しかける　（はなしかける）　to address someone

素顔　（すがお）　real face, face with no make-up

止めを刺す　（とどめをさす）　 to finish off, to deliver the coup de grace​

無関係　（むかんけい）　unrelated

物凄い　（ものすごい）　extreme, incredible

寒い　（さむい）　 uninteresting, lame, dull

条件　（じょうけん）　condition, term

飲む　（のむ）　to accept a condition

崩す　（くずす） to destroy, to demolish

材料　（ざいりょう）　material, evidence

自動的　（じどうてき）　automatic

いかにも　indeed

招待　（しょうたい）　invitation

畏まる　（かしこまる）　to obey respectfully

きっかり　precisely, punctually

お仕舞い　（おしまい）　the end, being done for​

管理　（かんり）　management (of a business)

気取る　（きどる）　 to affect, to act like (something one isn’t)

目を付ける　（めをつける）　to have an eye on, to zero in on

念を押す　（ねんをおす）　to make sure of, to emphasize

接吻　（せっぷん）　kiss

ホの字　（ほのじ）　the L-word*

印象付ける　（いんしょうづける）　to impress someone, to leave an impression

ご苦労様　（ごくろうさま）　I appreciate your efforts

食い下がる　（くいさがる）　 to refuse to back down, to persist

時点　（じてん）　point in time

言い分　（いいぶん）　one’s point​, objection, excuse

痺れる　（しびれる）　 to become numb,  to get an electric shock, to be mesmerized

取っ捕まる　（とつかまる）　to be caught

いい気味　（いいきみ）　 serves you right, it’s what you deserve

* basically the bellboy says that April might have given him a kiss because of “the L-word”, too shy to admit he thought she fell in love with him.

[trashyswitch]

The Need to Feel Human

Chase Brody, going through another low in his depression, has recently taken to self harm instead of drinking. Knowing the consequences of such actions, Chase reaches out to Dr. Schneeplestein and gets a lot more than a simple suture and wrap.

Warning: Depictions of self harm! I have deeply described some of the inner turmoil that comes with cutting! If you are sensitive to this topic, click off now and look for some other fan fictions I’ve written. I have lots of pure, innocent content. Go have fun. And for the rest of you, I hope you enjoy…

Chase wiped the tears from his eyes as he walked through the hallway. He knew he shouldn’t have done it. He knew it was painful. He knew it was wrong. He knew it was risky! But…it helped…it was the only thing that helped him cope. He’s tried everything: medication, meditation, listening to music, writing, exercise, even unhealthy remedies, like alcohol, comfort food and shopping. But the only effective remedy so far, has been self harm. He’s been doing it for months now to stop the crying and make himself feel better. And unfortunately, it works. Every time he sees the blood dripping down from the knife wound, he feels a sense of calm…it’s not happiness, but it’s not numbness or sadness either. Whatever the feeling, it’s relieving. Even seeing the scars from the previous wounds, will remind him of the blood dripping down, and give him the similar relief. It won’t last as long, but it’s a feeling that will make him feel human again. All this numbness and loss of control had gotten to him since his divorce, and cutting open his skin to see the blood trickling down has been the only effective relief.

The only person he’s told, was Dr. Schneeplestein. The only reason he knew about it was…well…he’s a doctor who checks up on all his patients. Of course he was gonna lift up his shirt sleeves and find his wounds. So, he’s been keeping an eye on the man. Dr. Schneeplestein has been checking up on him daily, to wrap up the new wounds Chase was creating. He has even let Dr. Schneeplestein watch him as he cut open a new wound on his skin. And, he noticed the difference: It helped him. Dr. Schneeplestein described it as a strategy similar to stimming. Autistic kids would do a certain action that would seem out of the norm for most people. Even when people would tell them to “stop”, the child would continue doing it because it calms them in moments of stress and overstimulation. So, instead of telling Chase to stop cutting like most people would, Dr. Schneeplestein would tend to his wounds. He would put Vaseline or Polysporin on the cut, and wrap it in a compression bandage. Since Chase cuts around once every 2 weeks (these numbers would increase depending on the seasonal mood changes), Dr. Schneeplestein would keep a first aid kit on him at all times. Sure, it was stressful. But at this point, Dr. Schneeplestein was all too familiar with the feelings of stress. Unlike Chase, Dr. Schneeplestein knew how to deal with his stress in a healthy manner. He would often listen to really calming music and meditate on his off time. Even so, Dr. Schneeplestein would keep the door open for Chase to come in and interrupt whenever he needed.

Chase knocked on the door and waited for the doctor’s footsteps. He stood in front of the closed door, holding his cut arm with his blood-covered hand. Soon, the footsteps came and the door opened. Chase’s friend was standing on the other side of the door, smiling and waving for him to come in. Chase followed the doctor’s orders and went inside. As he walked over to the bed to sit down, the door could be heard closing behind him.

Chase and Henrik had a code word that would represent his cutting habit and his need for medical treatment.

“Tear and tack?” Henrik asked, saying the code word, which meant ‘Please fix my wound’.

“Tear n’ tack. And, it’s still bleeding.” Chase replied, showing the doctor his arm.

Dr. Schneeplestein’s smile morphed into a worried frown as he grabbed the arm and examined the wound.

“It appears you have opened a previous scar.” Dr. Schneeplestein explained, before putting a gauze on the wound and placing pressure on the wound. Chase let out a muffled hiss, and looked away. Dr. Schneeplestein showed an empathetic smile, and looked at him. “Did you feel more relief from zhe extra bleeding?” Dr. Schneeplestein asked.

Chase nodded. “The bleeding wound felt relieving for a lot longer, but my anxiety started to come back when I realized the wound wasn’t clotting. So, I came to you.” Chase explained.

“It vas a good zhing you did, cause ve don’t van’t you to lose too much blood.” Dr. Schneeplestein replied, adding another gauze on top of the drenched cloth. Chase gave Dr. Schneeplestein an embarrassed crooked smile and watched as the doctor carefully lifted the gauze’s to check the wound’s progress. Noticing the blood was starting to clot, Dr. Schneeplestein covered it back up and smiled.

“So, vhat caused it zhis time?” Dr. Schneeplestein asked.

Chase bit his lip. “Depression’s hitting me hard right now.” Chase confessed. Dr. Schneeplestein nodded and checked the wound once more. The wound was getting closer to stopping. Dr. Schneeplestein kept the gauze on the wound with his one hand, and pulled a breathalyzer out of his pocket.

“Take a deep breath and blow into zhe breathalyzer please.” Dr. Schneeplestein ordered. Chase sighed and took in a big breath. He exhaled all the air into the breathalyzer, and heard a beeping sound.

“No alcohol. Zhat’s good.” Dr. Schneeplestein said, smiling as he placed the breathalyzer back in his pocket.

“Not this time. It doesn’t seem to do as much anyway.” Chase explained. Dr. Schneeplestein nodded and checked the wound again. This time, he removed both gauzes and threw them into the wash tub. Then, he pulled a disinfectant wipe, a syringe and a needle and thread out of a drawer.

“Ready?” Dr. Schneeplestein asked.

Chase nodded. “Ready.” He replied, pulling his sleeve up further. Dr. Schneeplestein wiped his arm with the disinfectant, and inserted the syringe into the skin. Chase watched the whole thing, and didn’t even flinch. Chase had gotten so used to the physical pain from his remedy, that he doesn’t even react to needles anymore. Once the local anesthetic was inserted, the needle had been removed and he waited for the numbness to take place.

“Why are you even numbing the pain for me? If I can handle the pain of a knife wound, then I can handle the pain of some needles.” Chase asked, watching the doctor put a new pair of gloves on.

“Because it makes me feel better. I vant zhis process to be painless for you.” Dr. Schneeplestein replied, picking up the needle and thread with a pair of forceps.

“But…you’re just wasting medicine that could be used on a person who needs It.” Chase argued.

“Zhe person that needs zhis most right now, is you and only you.” Dr. Schneeplestein defended calmly, as he felt the wound and started clamping it shut with his fingers.

Chase appreciated the attempt, but he struggled to believe him. However, Chase didn’t want to think about that anymore. Instead, he focused on the needle as it went through the first layer of skin. Dr. Schneeplestein used the forceps to lead the needle into the other side of the split wound, and circled around to the first side again. He stitched the wound overcast style from the bottom of the wound to the top.

Chase watched as the doctor worked very quietly, and precisely. Chase was absolutely fascinated with watching doctors work, especially a professional man like Henrik. He looked so focused in his work, never looking away for a second, to risk making a mistake. It was mesmerizing. Not only were his eyes so mesmerizing, but his hands as well. They were steady and precise, creating every stitch slowly and carefully. Any shaking that came over the man’s hands would be controlled by Schneeplestein’s willpower. Chase had become hypnotized by this beautiful sight in front of him: this hardworking, well collected man who’s helped him so many times. Chase had lost count of how many stitches and wraps were used on him. He could easily count the scars on his arm to get an estimate, but he’s forgotten which scars were stitched, and which scars were only wrapped and left to heal on their own.

“Fertig.” Dr. Schneeplestein muttered, pulling Chase from his thoughts. Dr. Schneeplestein cut the tied thread with a pair of scissors and placed the equipment down.

“Finished, you mean?” Chase asked, recognizing the German word and translating it on his own.

“…heheh, Yea.” Schneeplestein replied awkwardly, as he placed Vaseline on the stitched wound. He placed a sterile wound dressing onto the stitched cut and stepped back to admire his handiwork.

“Thank you.” Chase said nicely as he pulled his sleeves down.

“You’re velcome. You know, zhere are ozher vays of experiencing zhe feeling of being human.” Henrik explained.

“Uh…Like what?” Chase asked.

“Like, looking after a pet. I can bring home a dog or a cat for you to care for.” Dr. Schneeplestein suggested.

Chase smiled sadly. “I would love to have a dog, but I’d need permission from the others. Plus, how can I look after a dog if I can’t even look after myself properly?” Chase explained.

“I guess zhe former point is true…” the doctor mumbled. “Vhat about an emotional movie?” Dr. Schneeplestein suggested.

Chase thought about it. “…Maybe…I might try that. Do you know of any cute movies?” Chase asked. Dr. Schneeplestein pulled out his phone and searched up the suggestion. He read the list that came up.

Henrik let out a little laugh. “Most of zhese are either teen movies or animated kids movies.” He explained. “Zhere’s Finding Dory-“

“Seen it. It’s an emotional rollercoaster.” Chase interrupted.

“Okay…Bolt?” Henrik suggested.

“Hm…never heard of it.” Chase replied.

“It’s about a white dog named Bolt, his owner Penny, a cat named Mittens, and a hamster named Rhino…” Henrik explained.

“Huh…I’ll consider it.” Chase said, creating a list of movie recommendations on his phone.

“Dumbo…” Henrik read.

“That was a WEIRD movie! The scenes were either confusing, sad or both!” Chase reacted.

“Oh…okay. Nevermind zhen. Uh…Wall-E! I forgot about zhat vone!” Henrik reacted.

“Me too. That was a cute one, with some heavy topics. I’ll add that one.” Chase said, adding it to his list.

“Zhe Peanuts Movie-“

“Seen it, love it. I’m adding that one.” Chase said.

“Ponyo? Haven’t seen zhat vone before.” Henrik suggested.

“Me neither.” Chase mentioned.

“It’s about a goldfish princess named Ponyo, who falls in love vizh a human boy named Sōsuke, and vants to become a human girl.” Henrik reads aloud.

“Sounds like a rip-off of The Little Mermaid.” Chase muttered.

“If you couldn’t tell from zhe names, zhis is a Japanese anime.” Henrik explained. Chase nodded and decided to add that to his list.

“Vhy did you ask for cute movies? Zhat is an odd suggestion from somevone like you.” Henrik asked.

“Because I wanna feel more comfort and joy. Like, that warm, happy feeling you get when Christmas comes around.” Chase explained.

🎶Zhat’s all I vant vhen Christmas comes to town🎶 Henrik sang before giggling.

Chase smiled and let a few giggles out as well. Henrik’s smile grew wider. It was like hearing an old piano that had just been refurbished and returned to its former glory! He wanted to hear that laugh more often…if only he knew some jokes…wait…

“Oh! I know just zhe vay to make you feel happy!” Henrik exclaimed.

Chase sat up with a hopeful smile. “Really? How?” Chase asked.

“I’ll tell you in a minute.” Henrik reassured and walked over to the bed. “Please get down, and sit on zhis mat instead.” Henrik ordered, pointing to a blue thick mat on the ground. Chase followed the doctor’s orders, and sat down on the mat.

“Now: before ve start, I vant to ask you somezhing:” Henrik continued, walking behind and sitting down behind the man. He wrapped his arms around him and leaned into Chase’s left ear. “Are you ticklish, by any chance?” Henrik asked, turning his flat hands into claws and digging into Chase’s sides.

“BAHAAA-hahahahahahaha! Mahahahaybe a lihihihihittle.” Chase replied through his newfound fit of laughter.

“Vell telling by your reaction, you are. But vhere else are you ticklish besides your sides?” Henrik asked. Chase only continued to laugh and didn’t reply. “Vell…looks like I’ll have to find out for myself, zhen…” Henrik muttered out loud, pretending to be sad.

Henrik let a big smirk grow onto his lips, as he tried tickling multiple spots at once. With his left hand, he drilled his fingers into Chase’s hip and with his right hand, he played Chase’s ribs like an accordion would play the piano on the side. Chase’s head flew back and landed on Henrik’s shoulder as his laughter fell into cackles. Henrik switched hand positions, from the left hand on his hip and right hand on the ribs, to the right hand on his hip and the left hand playing his ribs.

“Vhich is vorse? Here?-“ Henrik started, drilling both hands’ fingers into Chase’s hips. “Or here?” Henrik asked, digging both hands into Chase’s ribs and playing them.

“THEHEHEHERE’RE BOHOHOHOHOHOTH BAHAHAHAHAD!” Chase shouted through his laughter, squirming aimlessly.

“How about zhis? How bad is zhis?” Henrik asked, before digging one finger into Chase’s left hip, and the other hand into Chase’s right side.

Chase’s eyes nearly bulged out of his skull. Chase let out a loud scream, and fell into hysterical laughter.

“THAHAHAHAHAHAT’S WOHOHOHOHORSE!” Chase shouted, his squirming becoming more frantic.

“Perhaps I’m going a leetle beet overboard?” Henrik tested the waters.

“YEHEHEHEHEHEHES!” Chase begged.

“Okay.” Henrik replied, removing his hands. Chase leaned back and drew in as many breaths as he could. “Sorry about zhat.” Henrik apologized, letting Chase lean onto him.

“I…It’s alright. I needed that. I haven’t…laughed like that…heheh…in a…long time.” Chase confessed with a wobbly smile.

“Really?” Henrik reacted in shock.

“R-Really. But, it felt good.” Chase replied.

Henrik smiled. “So, you like being tickled?” Henrik asked.

“I…I guess so…ya…I do- Hehehehey!” Chase said, before melting into a puddle of giggles.

“Vell in zhat case, let zhe much needed tickles continue!” Henrik proclaimed, playing his ribs lightly with his fingers. “I vonder: how’s your neck?” Henrik thought aloud, before fluttering a few fingers on the side of Chase’s neck.

“EEEEEHehehehehehehe! Nuuuuhuhuhuhuhuhuhuhu!” Chase cooed adorably through his high-pitched giggles.

“Awwww! Zhat vas adorable!” Henrik cheered, dancing his fingers on the other side of Chase’s neck. Chase scrunched his shoulders and threw his head back as his giggles rose up an entire octave.

“Tickle tickle tickle tickle tickle!” Henrik sing-songed as he wiggled a few of his fingers onto his tummy.

“GAAAHahahahahaha! Hehehehenrihihihik!” Chase called through his laughter, squirming back and forth.

“Vhaaaaat? Am I getting too close to zhat belly button of yours?” Henrik teased, wiggling one of his fingers slowly towards the middle of the belly. “Vhat kind of belly button do you have? An extended navel? Or a deep navel? Is it circular or oval shaped? Deep or shallow? I’m begging to know.” Henrik questioned curiously as he got closer and closer.

He had already known that Chase couldn’t answer through his laughter. He knew that this was really embarrassing for him. He knew this was driving Chase nuts! And yet, he didn’t regret it one bit. All of this teasing was purposeful. It was all part of his plan to wreck him in a loving way. The truth was, Henrik had a soft spot for this adorable man. Chase was like a 8 year old child, stuck in an adult’s body. He loved bonding with him, especially this type of bonding. Even though the laughter was forced by tweaking certain spots, it still created the release of dopamine that Chase needed to go on with his life. Though it’s only a temporary solution (until he gets medication that increases his mood for a lot longer), it seems to be helping him more than he thought.

Finally, Henrik stopped his fingers, right above his navel. He gave the navel a little poke and light scratch, which caused a few squeals and squirms to leave Chase’s mouth. Through poking his navel, Henrik had also discovered the type of navel Chase has: a deep, oval shaped navel. Henrik was ready to do what he had been waiting so long for! He put his index finger into Chase’s navel, and swirled around inside.

Chase threw his head back and let the dam burst right open. “EEEEAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA! GAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NAHAHAHAHAHAHA! TOO MUCH! TOOOHOHOHO MUHUHUHUHUCH!” Chase shouted through his loud, hysterical laughter.

“Goodness gracious! I’m barely even touching you, and ZHIS is how you react? I zhink zhis might be your vorst spot yet!” Henrik exclaimed.

Chase laughed his heart out and squirmed uncontrollably. Despite his inability to make words through his laughter, he still tried to get away from the single finger teasing at his navel. However, this proved to be pointless, as the pesky finger would only follow along to whichever side he squirmed to! It was Adrenalin-raising! No, energizing! Wait! electrifying! That’s the word! Electrifying! In a good way, as well. It made him feel happy, comforted, and filled with energy again! And boy, it has been so long since he’s had enough energy for anything nowadays.

As much as he was enjoying this, his adrenaline rush was starting to fade into exhaustion. Instead of fighting the laughter that drowned out his words, he tapped his hands on the doctor’s arm, similarly to how a wrestler would tap out when he was ready for mercy.

“You need a break? But I vas yust getting started…” Dr. Schneeplestein whined as he pouted, but let up.

Henrik removed his hands and used them to balance himself, as he let Chase lean against him and breath. Chase’s breathing was deep and fast at first, but eventually started slowing down. Henrik could feel every breath from Chase’s back, against his chest. It felt nice to be in this position. He could tell Chase trusted him. If he hadn’t trusted Henrik by now, Chase would’ve moved away from him and breathed on his own. But instead, Chase was laying against Henrik with a relaxed smile on his face. Henrik allowed himself to enjoy the moment. To him, the moment reminded him of the calm feeling a person would feel while holding a sleeping baby. Only, this baby was a lot bigger and heavier. But the feeling was the same, nonetheless.

“Thank you…Dr. Schneeplestein.” Chase said, slightly slurred from tiredness.

Henrik smiled at the slurring speech. “Feel free to call me Henrik.” the doctor replied calmly, showing some love by reaching his right hand up to Chase’s shoulder and rubbing it. Chase responded to the gesture by moving his left hand up, and placing it on top of Henrik’s. Together, the two of them sat there in the comfort of each other’s arms, embracing the feeling of being close, calm and loved.

[syncopatedid]

Kazetsuyo Novel Translation: Excerpt from Chapter 6: The Voice of the Soul

(Pages 282 - 288)

At Joji’s suggestion, everyone at Chikusei-so had decided to gather at the Twins’ room two days before the qualifier for a casual drinking session. For these members, drinking was the fastest way to relieve tension and foster team unity.

Since the landlord held the token title of coach, he was invited to join as well. Therein lies the problem, however. The money that the landlord had given to Kiyose to fix the hole awhile ago had instead been passed on to Shindo, who used it to subsidise their expenses for the Hakone Ekiden; all the money they had would still not have been sufficient to cover their transport and accommodation costs.

And so, as the landlord was about to step into the entranceway, Jota had deliberately intercepted his path, flashing the gravure page of a magazine to catch his eye. Distracted by the swimsuit model, the landlord took off his shoes and entered the house without so much as glancing up at the ceiling, following closely behind Jota while he made his way up the stairs. The strategy was a success! Watching from the kitchen, Kakeru and Joji gave each other a silent high five.

Prince had been instructed to sit on the hole, on the orders of Kiyose and Shindo not to move from that spot in the landlord’s presence come hell or high water— not even if an earthquake occurred or if he needed to go for a bathroom break — hiding the evidence while he read his manga.

“The coach will now give a speech!” Kiyose announced, tipsy from the alcohol.

Hugging his bottle, the landlord wobbled to stand on his feet. Seeing him act like a real coach for the first time, Kakeru waited eagerly for him to speak.

“Since the qualifier is approaching… I shall share with you the secret to winning,” the landlord declared in a dignified, husky voice. “The secret is… to alternate between your left foot and your right!”

The room fell dead silent. 

Detecting their dismay, the landlord concluded, “Keep at it, and you’ll reach the finish line eventually.”

“That’s it?!” King waved his glass, gesticulating wildly. 

“Is this person okay?” Yuki bemoaned.

“Can’t we find ourselves a more decent coach?!” Nico scoffed. 

“Ahhhh… there goes my motivation…” Jota whined.

The grumbling noises were escalating. Kakeru quickly diverted the conversation to Kiyose. 

“Haiji, from the very beginning, you believed that all the members here had a real shot at Hakone, even though I thought there’s a fifty-fifty chance we wouldn’t make it… why were you so confident about this?”

“Hmm?”

Kiyose looked up from his glass, grinning ear to ear.

“Because you guys can really drink!”

“Huuuuuh?!”

The room stopped complaining about the landlord and turned their attention to Kiyose.

“Long-distance runners tend to have greater tolerance for alcohol due to their high metabolism… and you guys drink like a fish, you know? I’ve been observing you lot alllllllllll this time, so I knew you could do it for sure…” 

“I can’t believe you!” Shindo threw his hands up in the air. “If you’re looking for a drunk, there’s plenty of them in this world!”

“You dragged all of us into the mud for THIS reason?!” Yuki was beyond livid.

Kakeru groaned. He had expected Kiyose to say something inspiring to lift the team’s morale, but it went in a completely opposite direction instead.

“You mean to tell me we ended up here because of our drinking habits?! Are you serious?!” Prince was so agitated he almost got up, but saw Shindo staring daggers at him and quickly planted his rear end back down again. “How is this any different from building a house on quicksand?!”

“It’s not jusssst because of that, of course…” Kiyose was slurring in his speech. “I could tell you guys possess the latent talent to shine! I could feel it!”

“You’re drunk, Haiji…” Kakeru sighed.

“Hey, can’t we talk about something a little more light-hearted?” King sprawled on the tatami, lamenting out loud.

“Ah, that reminds me! How are things with you two and Hana-chan?”  Musa egged the twins.

“With Hana-chan?”

“Things are well, I guess?” the twins answered innocently.

They don’t get it. These two totally don’t get it at all. The whispers were unanimous.

“So do you two have girlfriends or what?” Nico, who had been chewing on a piece of dried squid earlier, casually raised the question again. “If you do, you should get them to come cheer for us the day after tomorrow!”

Such topics were seldom brought up in Chikusei-so. Given their living space was as cramped as it is, one would tend to be mindful not to pry into another’s private affairs. Besides, even if they didn’t go out of their way to talk about it, if someone among them had a girlfriend, the rest would likely have sensed it somehow.

But then again, the team had been busy training this half a year; so no one has had an inkling as to the status of their teammates’ love life; not that any of them ever brought their girlfriends back to their rooms before—since anything said or done behind thin walls would certainly be heard. 

“We’re accepting applications!” the twins replied together.

If you’re “accepting applications”, then for crying out loud please notice the “candidate” that’s right in front of you!, thought Kakeru exasperatedly.

King had gone silent, curling his body into a ball.

“And what about you?” Yuki threw the question back at Nico.

“I don’t have the strength to deal with that kinda thing right now.” Nico mused, scratching the stubble on his jaw.

“As for me,” Shindo hung his head down, “I’ve been running myself ragged with the negotiations between the committee and the university… I think it’s just a matter of time before she breaks up with me.”

“You’re dating someone?”

Kakeru was stunned. He would never have pegged a plain and honest guy like Shindo to be basking in the brilliance of romance.

“Shindo already got himself a girlfriend when he started university,” Musa explained. “I am hopeless though… I can’t even get anyone to come back to my hometown with me…”

Do things really need to move that fast……?!  

“Don’t you have a girlfriend, Kakeru?”

Kakeru shook his head at Musa’s question.

“I’m not popular with the ladies.”

“Doesn’t seem that way to me.” 

“Um… what about you, Prince?”

Kakeru tried to draw attention away from himself, but Prince’s head remained buried in his manga, not even bothering to look up.

“I’m only interested in 2D girls.”

Even though you were born with an idol's face, what a waste…

Prince gave Kiyose a sideway glance.

“More importantly…. have you heard the rumours about Haiji floating around the Lit department? He may look like this, but he’s actually quite a —— ow!”

With a flick of his fingers, Kiyose sent a peanut flying right between Prince’s eyebrows. Prince let out a tiny yelp and clammed up. No one else was brave enough to probe Kiyose for details after that.

Kiyose gave a thin smile.

“How about you, Yuki?”

“I’ll have you know I’m of good character, plus I’m not too shabby in the looks department either. Far as my future goes, I’ve got this in the bag.” Yuki stated matter-of-factly.

King had retreated even further into his shell.

“Aren’t you boys going to ask about me?”

As the landlord poured himself another cup of shōchū, there came a ringing sound.

(Continued)

=====================

Footnotes 

1. I have SO many thoughts about this scene regarding Kakeru and drinking and it got long it became its own post, hahaha. 

2. This passage was definitely among my top 10 favourite scenes in the novel because, in a span of seven pages, you could pick up on nearly everyone’s character quirks. Also Me@Kakeru this entire exchange regarding Hana and the twins: SON can you even hear yourself in Chapter 10.

3. Elements from this scene have been split into two separate drinking parties in the anime - one in episode 5 (where Shindo mentioned he’s got a girlfriend and the squad was completely wasted), and the other in episode 15 (where Coach Tazaki made his speech). Yuki also received a call from his mother immediately after this scene and I… hope to get around to that bit sometime… soon. Maybe.

4. Even though some of the Haiji and Ouji moments in the anime are original material, I like how it’s quite canon aligned to their level of familiarity in the novel. Akane seems most privy to Haiji’s conduct outside of Aotake, and in my personal experience, juniors and seniors in university don’t usually mix even if they’re from the same department, so for rumours of Haiji to reach a second year like Akane would imply that Haiji’s name gets around even among the juniors. It’s either that, or Akane’s lurking skills are next level, and he’s able to pick up rumours circulating amongst the seniors and/or he actually hangs out with Haiji (and Haiji’s peers) after class for whatever reason. Well well well…

previous translations in my tag: #Kaze Novel Translations

[lvehui]

WHEN THE MOON MET THE SUN | JIHAN, CHAPTER ONE

April 5, 1989 - 1:32pm

Hong Joshua is simply minding his business, swirling out the perfect tower of whip cream for some hot chocolate, when his coworker, Alex, asks, "Hey Joshua, you know Korean right?"

Still lightly pressing down on the canister's nozzle, Joshua pauses and tries not to look like a deer caught in headlights.

If they were speaking in technical terms, then yeah, he knows Korean. Even though he was born and raised in Los Angeles, his mother threw around enough words and phrases from her native language for him to get by in their house (and awkward family reunions).

But if what Alex meant by 'knowing Korean' was actually speaking Korean, holding a decent conversation in Korean, then his answer is less sure. Like, he can say some basic things--- hello, how are you, thank you, and what not--- but can he string it all together into one seamless sentence without his brain freezing up?

Not really.

So, slowly, he responds, "Um... kinda?"

The tones of hesitation and self-doubt in his voice are obvious, but either his coworker doesn't seem to notice, or just straight up doesn't care. "Good enough for me," Alex replies, before beckoning him over to the cash register. "Come over here."

Wondering why she needs him specifically, Joshua leaves his precious mug of steaming hot cocoa and walks over to the cash register, where Alex is. When he reaches her, she leans into his shoulder and says, "Houston, we have a problem."

Alex cocks her head to the front of them both, then back to Joshua, who copies her actions. Only then does he come face to face with the dreamiest guy he's ever seen. Soft eyes. Soft jaw. Soft everything... and Joshua has to restrain himself from turning into a heap of warm raspberry mush for a stranger who just so happens to look very Korean.

"Why did you call me?" Joshua mutters, even though he's starting to quickly connect the dots and realize the answer to his own question. His first thought is oh no. His second is please don't.

To none of his surprise, but much of his panic, Alex explains, "I don't understand a single thing this guy is saying, but I can tell that it's important to him. And I'm going to feel bad for the rest of my life if I leave him hanging, so---"

"You want me to translate," Joshua finishes.

"Pretty much... and he's been holding up the line for a couple of minutes now." Joshua looks behind the guy, who, by the way, is nonchalantly staring at them, and sees a growing crowd of aggravated people. "I don't know how to say, 'Hey, can you please step aside or you're going to stampeded by a bunch of coffee-starved adults' in Korean... so yeah."

Joshua shakes his head. "How do you know he's Korean?" he asks, even though Alex's assumption is the same as his.

"He said something like 'onion-say-yo' and I was like, 'oh, that's what Josh says when he picks up his mom's calls.'"

Joshua makes a sound that's between a groan and a whine.

"Pleaseee? For the good of humanity and your own heart?" Alex says, dragging out the desperate tone in her voice. "You're the only person who can help this guy out."

Joshua looks at Mr. Dreamy Guy again. The man has the words 'lost and confused' written all over his smooth, ivory-colored face, but a small, close-lipped smile blooms upon it when he and Joshua make eye contact. It makes Joshua a bit nervous--- in a good way, but also in a bad way. (In an 'I'm capable of messing up this up' way.) "It's not that I don't want to help, I just... I can barely speak it myself... you know, Korean..."

His coworker responds, "Look, babe, barely is better than nothing---"

"HEY, WHATSA' HOLD UP HERE?" someone interrupts, making Joshua jolt.

Alex yells back, "We're just having some cash register difficulties, sorry about that!" and then turns to Joshua with a sickening pair of puppy dog eyes. "Seriously, Josh, please?"

Finally giving in, Joshua reluctantly sighs, "fine."

*＊✿❀　❀✿＊*

Sentence structure in English is difficult to put together when you're running on three hours of sleep and two cups of unsweetened green tea. And in Korean? It's nearly impossible. For one, the structure is basically reversed, and then there's honorifics to worry about, and what if you pronounce something wrong and curse on accident?

But of course, he can't say that to him.

For the sake of being a good person, Joshua has to ignore the awkward, coffee-scented air and do what he gets paid to do: help others. Yet, as much as he wants to have this 'thing' over with, words struggle to find a way out of his mouth.

"You are... Korean?"

The sound of the stranger's strong, but sweet accent catches him off guard and snaps him out of his inner monologue. Composing himself, Joshua nods and responds, "Yes, I am."

"And you know... it?" the man asks, "Korean?"

Joshua takes a breath before flipping his hand side to side, resembling the word 'so-so.' "A little," is all he can say. "But I can understand Korean better."

A chuckle easily escapes the other man's rosebud lips, which soon form into a bright grin. (And Joshua doesn't miss the way the stranger's eyes crinkle in thin, gentle half-moons.) It's not too long before the language of the conversation switches.

"Ah, well that's a relief! I've been trying to find someone to help me with something. But no one knows Korean, and I don't know English very well... everyone here looks at me like I'm crazy..."

The barista goes through every Korean phrase his mother has cemented in his brain while he was growing up. "Oh, I'm really sorry..." I sound like I'm at a funeral, Joshua thought. How do I say, 'to hear that?' Oh my god. This is already going badly.

"It's expected," the man says, shrugging it off.

"Yeah..."

Then the stranger goes, "By the way, my name is Yoon Jeonghan. Yours?"

Joshua knows his name--- how could he not--- but for some reason, he looks down at his name tag before he replies, as if he's checking his answer before turning it in. "Hong Jisoo... but I go by Joshua here."

"Joshhh..." Jeonghan repeats, the 'sh' part prolonged. "Josh... shua."

His name is nothing special, but it sounds better than usual when said by someone like Jeonghan. The other man can't be described--- for now--- but he reminds Joshua of a ray of sunlight when daybreak arrives through his bedroom window.

With a slight tint of pink on the tip of his ears, Joshua says, "Yes..?" but in a tinier voice than he usually would.

Jeonghan, without warning, crosses his arms and leans forward against the table. He's not too close, like 'all up in your face' close, but the gap between their faces is barely an inch closer and Joshua is already feeling apprehensive.

Good thing for him, a postcard is shoved in his face.

"Have you ever been here before?" Jeonghan asks, bright and curious.

Joshua tilts his head and gets a better look at the picture in front of him. Instantly, he recognizes the familiar landmark that his hometown is known for--- the giant, white Hollywood sign surrounded by green grass and tourists.

"Uh, yeah... I have," Joshua tells the man, "Once."

"Do you know how to get there?"

This question throws Joshua for a loop. "Yeah..?"

The stranger's entire expression morphs going from simple curiosity to utter excitement. "Really?"

The barista smiles because it's what he was trained to do whenever he didn't know how to respond to something. It's obviously strained. "Really."

Now leaning in further, definitely in Joshua's personal space, Jeonghan asks, "Do you think you could take me there?"

"Like, go with you?"

"Yeah," Jeonghan casually answers, "Because I am terrible at reading maps."

Joshua freezes.

I could take him there, he thinks. But that defies all logic. I'm a barista, not a tour guide... plus, I don't know this man at all. He could kidnap me or something...

Yet, neither against or by his will, he says, "Sure."

And he blames it on Jeonghan's beautiful brown eyes.

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Caramel Skin Under A Purple Rain prt 35 start

Warm breath tickled the back of his neck as Lance dozed. A warm arm snaked around his waist, with a hand protectively resting on his belly. The bed beneath him as soft and warm as the blankets covering him, Keith’s bed wasn’t their bed, but it was pretty damn nice when his was there. Waking with a start, his first instinct was to find Keith. His second instinct was to bolt from whoever was holding him. His third instinct was that Keith was the holding him, and that there was nothing poised to attack. His husband’s scent was soothingly level, sprinkled with notes of concern, anger, and relief. Mentally, he checked off them off. Concern, well, he’d been attacked. His face was no longer busted up, which could only be the result of a trip to the healing pod. Anger... Keith was great at intense internal anxiety, much like he was... Plus, he’d left the Gala alone. Double plus, he’d gotten into a fight. Triple plus, he’d wound up in a healing pod over it. Quadruple plus, their twins could have been harmed in the attack... Keith’s twins... If things were serious, he wouldn’t be waking up in his husband’s bed if things weren’t now safe. Hence, the relief... Fuck... He could remember the start of the fight. He could remember taking the first blow, not wanting Keith involved, but everything else after having his wedding ring torn from his neck was blank. Residual feelings remained in the back of his mind. His need to put the person down before they went after Keith. His need to protect his twins. His blood lust when the ring was torn from his neck... Clumsily, his hand went to his neck where his ring no longer sat. It was really gone... His ring was gone... His proof of that night had been stolen away from him. As his breath caught, he wanted to curl in on himself. He wanted to cry. He was so done with someone he didn’t know going after him with the intention of hurting him. He was tired of his time with Keith being continually interrupted. He almost wished their marriage was still on the rocks with him at the outpost, as it’d only been since he returned to Keith’s side that this new threat had reared its head. He’d been safe doing whatever he felt like at his outpost... But quiznak if it didn’t do all kinds of things to his heart to know his husband was safe. Dios, he had to see Keith’s face. He had no idea how long he’d been out. He had no idea if his twins were safe. He had no idea if Keith was safe, or if he’d been harmed after the fight. Rolling slowly in Keith’s arms, his husband slept on. The process was slow, Keith digging his fingertips into his belly, as Lance worked the logistics of his move out. It was worth it though. To see Keith’s sleeping face, a soft smile on his slightly parted lips as he dreamed some dream Lance couldn’t see. Drool on the left side of his mouth. His shaggy black hair fell across his forehead and neck, his gold necklace safely in place. Black bags hung ender Keith’s eyes, but he’d seen worse before on him. Leaning in, he nuzzled into Keith’s cheek, Keith letting out a breathy moan as his hand slipped down Lance’s back to grab at his arse. Smiling to himself, his husband made everything better. Keith wasn’t awake, but his mere existence made everything so much more tolerable. Waking up alone would have sucked, it did suck. Keith knew that, it didn’t matter that the castle was long gone, no one woke up alone. As much as wanted to work out what was going on in his head, now that he’d seen his sleeping husband, he wanted Keith to wake up and tell him everything was alright. That he was okay. That whomever attacked him hadn’t laid a finger on his precious husband. That they were okay, and Keith wasn’t mad at him for leaving the Gala. That he wasn’t mad at him for winding up in a fight. That Keith’s twins were ok. He’d been in fights before, being attacked had been scary, he was pregnant with his dominant leg a cast after all, but he was sure he’d landed blows of his own. Kissing Keith’s cheek, he grimaced at his own morning breath. It felt as if something had died in his mouth, and certainly smelt like it. As nice as cuddles were, non-furry teeth sounded better, plus, if he was careful, Keith wouldn’t notice he’d left their bed. His escape didn’t happen, as he wiggled away from his husband, Keith clung tighter. Lance dragging him to the edge of the bed “Stop faking it already, let me get up” “No... come back to bed... Wait... wait, you’re awake!” Keith tugged him back, his head knocking against his husband’s in Keith’s rush. They ended up with Lance’s head on Keith’s shoulder, staring into gorgeous purple eyes “Yeah... ow... I thought I’d left you sleeping” “Me sleeping? You’re the one who’s been sleeping! How do you feel? How long have you been awake? I was worried... Are you in pain...?” Keeping his left hand on his aching forehead, Lance turned in his husband’s hold ready to count his points off on his right hand “Babe, I’m alright. I remember getting into a fight, but I’ve been awake long enough to figure a few things out. I don’t remember how the fight ended. I ended up in a pod. I don’t remember much after they attacked. I feel alright, other than the fact my morning breath could strip paint. I didn’t wake you up because I was enjoying watching you sleeping, and assumed you would have been worrying yourself crazy. I wouldn’t say no to the toilet either” “You’ve been asleep for the last four quintants and that’s what you have to say to me?” Four days was a bit of a surprise. He’d been thinking maybe two? He felt too rested for it to have been simply overnight “I was out that long? Are you ok? They... I mean, you weren’t hurt were you? Did they get him?” “You were in a pod for a quintant and a half... You scared the shit out of me. I thought... there was so much blood...” Keith’s voice shook with emotion, Lance ignoring his morning breath in favour of kissing the side of Keith’s drooly lips. He might have had time to calm, but Keith had only just woken after days of worrying about him “I’m sorry I scared you. I... I guess I lost the fight? I’m also guessing you got stuck taking care of me again? I feel... good. Nothing hurts more than it should, or normally does. I panicked a little when I woke up, but I thought everything must have been sorted if I’m laying here with you” “Hardly... How are you so ok with this?” Keith sounded annoyed, which was valid. He really was taking it all too well. He had no idea why he’d been attacked, his attackers face was blurry in his memory and he could have cost Keith their twins. Yet, he was still very clearly pregnant, and not in the hospital wing of the palace. Cupping Keith’s cheek with his right hand, he rubbed his cheek against Keith’s “I never said I was... I have far too many questions, and the burning desire to brush my teeth. How bad was it?” Keith shook his head, his scent was off “Not great... you’re right. We should clean up then eat. I can fill you in then... quiznak... hold on a tick” Keith was clearly worrying that he was going to set him off with the truth. Lance knew that if he could peek inside Keith’s brain, he’d be watching his husband struggle to find the words that he considered to be safe. Detangling himself from their embrace, Lance was saddened to lose the comfort of his husband’s hold as Keith went about climbing over and off his side of the bed. Sitting himself up properly on the edge, there was the sound of the bedside drawer open, rustling, then closing. Keith then walking back around their bed to squat down in front of him “I need to give you an injection. I’ll explain, but for now, it’s already late because I’ve overslept” Opening a small black case, Keith plucked a vial of green liquid out. It seemed kind of familiar, but Lance wasn’t able to place it. Being injected by his husband was not on his “wake up and human” checklist “What’s that?” “Hold on” Loading the injector gun, Keith then pressed it to his thigh, Lance jumping at the crack of the gun rather than the sudden injection. Pulling the gun back, his husband threw it onto their bed, before kissing the spot he’d just injected him in “What the quiznak was that?!” He didn’t do drugs. He didn’t like pills or injections or things he didn’t know being forced into his blood stream. Keith knew that, and no matter how tenderly he was gazing up with him, Lance wasn’t going to hide his annoyance “An antidote... God, babe... I don’t even know where to begin” “The start would be a good place! You know I don’t... I wake up and you...” Lance cut his own sentences off with a wave of his hand. He was miffed. Keith was lucky he hadn’t kicked him “You were injected. During the fight, you were injected with that painkiller shit... You’ve been in and out of consciousness for the last two and a half quintants. The twins... You spiked a fever. They had to keep you here because I couldn’t control my emotions... I tried to go Kolivan... I turned into a monster...” Lance’s hands went to his stomach. The vague recollection of being hit in the stomach came to him, then started to flitter away “Are they okay? Were they hurt?” “We didn’t know you’d been injected when you were put in the pod. It sent your quintessence sky high, speeding up your healing but stressing the twins in the process...” Lance swayed, suddenly feeling lightheaded. Keith surging up to wrap his arms around him, wetness on his cheek where Keith’s tears were pooling “I’m so sorry. I should have been there. I should have protected you... I’m so sorry, babe...” How was he supposed to translate what was happening? Keith was scaring him more than waking up had... what was he trying to tell him? “Did I lose them? Is... did... are they...?” “No! No...” Keith pulled back, taking his face in his hands and forcing him to stare him in the eye “... they gave you a scan, they’re still in there. The pod fixed the damage, but because of the drugs, you’ve needed daily injections, and will for the next movement. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there. He’s dead. The alien that attacked you is dead... There was so much blood... You could have died...” “I didn’t go looking for a fight” He was supposed to have been under surveillance... Krolia had said he would be... “I know. I saw the footage. But it was still bad. He broke your nose, went after the twins... drugged you, and beat you... You nearly lost the twins. There was something wrong with your womb... you were bleeding...” Tears were streaming down Keith’s face now “I’m out the pod now” “You kept drifting in and out. You kept telling me how pretty I am and how proud of me you were. I don’t feel very proud. You and my twins would have been dead if you hadn’t fought back. They could have left you there dead and I would have been up on the stage while you bled out” Lance might have been physically harmed, but Keith had taken the brunt of the mental trauma “Stop it. I’m not dead. I’m not dead and I am proud of you. You are pretty. And I love you. Now. My breath sticks, and I need a shower if I’ve been sleeping that long. Is there anything else I need to know right now?” “They... took your wedding ring. There’s a scar from when they tore it off. They did your back pretty bad. There might be blood when you go to the toilet. You’re healed, but they mentioned it. And you need to take things at half speed for the sake of the twins, until the drug’s passed completely. They... Mum doesn’t know, but I’m sure if you hadn’t had it in your system before, you would have died. It sent you into seizures... You had one the night before last and... it was bad” ““Bad” or “bad bad”?” “Really fucking bad, when your fever spiked. I’m, we’re, on lock down. I haven’t been able to control my instincts since this happened” Keith loathed the times his Galra side flared to life, Lance could understand why, yet hated it at the same time. Keith was part Galra and that was nothing to be ashamed of. Lifting his left hand, he tucked a few stray strands from Keith’s fringe back behind his ear “You’ve been trying to protect me. I’m sorry. I wasn’t looking for a fight. I don’t think I was, I remember being in the fight but it’s a bit blurry around the start and end. I feel better... because I woke up with you here. Now I need the bathroom. Gimme a few ticks then we’ll take a shower together. I want to see for myself you’re not hurt” Keith nodded, nuzzling up into Lance’s left hand like Kosmo would have. Keith was kind of like another kid... if he included Keith, that meant he had four kids to look after and he definitely wasn’t sure he could survive four “I’m still really sorry. I never seem to be there when you need me the most” “Babe. Keith. Love of my life. Half idiot to my half idiot. You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m sorry I didn’t get to see you on the stage awkwardly accepting your medal. You looked incredibly handsome” “I think I understand now... Why you felt so guilty after the training accident. The “what-ifs”... it fucking sucks” There were a few differences with what had happened. No one important had been hurt in the fight. Keith was left looking after him for quintants without know what kind of condition... It was starting to sound suspiciously like waiting for Keith to wake up. Clean him. Keep him hydrated. Nurse him through fever. Protect him. Wait for him to wake... But Keith hasn’t nearly killed a whole team of Blade members. He also hadn’t nearly killed his husband... “Yeah, it really does” * Keith insisted that Lance didn’t need to know the details of the investigation over the attack. Lance wasn’t having it. Krolia was on the fence, understanding where Keith was coming from, yet worried for both their safeties, hoping that seeing the footage would trigger his memories of the fight. Lance sympathised with her. He sympathised with Keith. But as Krolia talked about everyone involved since the attack, he felt sick to his stomach that he was the only one who didn’t know anything useful. Confined to their messy room, the space has suffered at the hands of the “tantruming” Keith, Lance was sitting on their bed, where Krolia was now not allowed, neither was Kosmo. Krolia had had to take Kosmo from Keith because their fur son couldn’t understand Keith’s changing instincts and took his more Galra side as a threat to Lance. Seeing Lance had confided to Kosmo things he couldn’t tell his therapist or husband, it was if Kosmo was trying to protect him from “Galra” in general. He had to know Keith’s heritage, yet that he’d go his master over Lance weighed heavily, leaving him wondering if perhaps he’d told Kosmo too much. Gazing down at the holopad in his hands, it was paused before the attack. The anticipation and wait was giving his anxieties a minor heart attack. No one was stopping him from pressing play, other than himself. Watching the video would result in him having to admit some home truths. He’d lost the fight, then had been further assaulted. Someone other than Keith had touched his body... and he was determined not to have break down over that. He’d been in dozens of fights. Not that he was bragging, but he was good. He was far better as Leandro as Lance, but Lance had got his dumb arse hurt... and scared Keith. He had to face that fear for both of them. For Keith, he pressed play. Watching the fight on the camera was completely different from being in it. His moves were clunky thanks to his cast and his stomach. He’d parried fine, but in his eyes he could see the steps he’d missed, he was slightly impressed with joe many stabs he’d landed in his assailants sides... but on the camera he seriously seemed to be attacking Hunk... As he watched his attackers eyes flash, he gasped, Keith supporting the tilting holopad in his hands. He remembered that. He remembered the tell tail eyes and shift in scent... “He’s Galra” Keith tried to take the holopad from his hands, Lance gripping it tighter. He remembered the distinct change. The change in expression. Once their cover was blown, all bets were off “No. We found them, they weren’t Galra” He hadn’t been told everything, only what Keith had said. That his attacker was dead. Lance hadn’t wanted to know details because he didn’t want to possibly give a false recount due to preconceived opinions “Their eyes glowed yellow...” “It was tech, babe. That’s how they took on Hunk’s appearance” No. That didn’t feel right to him... “There’s something else here” “Babe?” Keith was sitting too close. He felt too clingy. He needed to think without being babied “Just... gimme a bit” “You don’t need to watch this”

[khhunniewriting]

Dile Que Tu Me Quieres

“You two are still together?” your mother asked, the sour look on her face only became more pronounced by the sigh she gave shortly after. “When will you come to your senses Y/N? A boy like that is only going to break your heart.”

“I know mom,” your sigh mimicked hers. You were an adult, able to do as you wished. This is why they didn’t bother to put so much effort into convincing you on a daily basis but they sure did like to try when they were reminded of your situation. “We’ve only been together for days, 821 to be exact,” you deadpanned.

The glare your mother gave showed she was not happy with your smart remark. 

“Any day now he’s going to fuck one of his backup dancers, get into a gang fight, or go broke buying clothes all over the world. Seriously, I’m just waiting for that one dating scandal to teach me my lesson!”

Your mother threw her slipper at you to stop your sarcastic rambling but it only made you laugh. “Don’t raise your voice to your mother, I’m just worried about you and that boy.”

A chill went up your spine once again as you heard your mother call Dean a boy. “Okay mom, first of all, he’s not a boy...he’s a man.”

“Tch,” she clicked her tongue completely ignoring your valid points.

“Second of all he’s a very successful man with a career- and before you cut me off singing is a career.”

Your mother sighed walking away. “There’s no reasoning with you.” She tried to get the last word in but you weren’t one to stand down. 

Even if she was your mother, you stood for facts and reason. Dean was nothing but loyal, kind, and loving since the moment you met him. No one could tell you otherwise. It was you who was always by his side. They didn’t know how he felt or how he made you feel. You were the only person capable of judging whether he was right for you. “I don’t know why you insist on fighting mom.” You gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before grabbing your car keys. “I love you and I love Dean too so deal with it.”

\\\

As soon as you opened the door to your shared apartment Dean came over with a look of concern. “So how did it go?”

You inhaled deeply and exhaled the same, dropping the weight you had been carrying on your shoulders. 

“That bad?” Dean knew all too well that your parents disapproved of him. It hurt him to see you struggle to balance both your relationship and family life. Honestly, he would love to go with you, be right by your side as you visited your parents. He was tired of borrowing you from them- he wanted to share. He held you for a moment letting you decompress.

“I love you.”

Dean cracked a smile at your sudden profession of love. “I love you too.” His hands smoothed over your back and arms as he pulled away. Getting a good look at you made him blush. There was never a day when he didn’t think how lucky he was to have you in his life. 

“What?” you too broke out blushing. “Why are you blushing?”

He hid his face in the crook of your neck unable to face you. “You’re just so...beuatiful.” He muttered the last word. The way you stuck by him, never doubting, showed how real your relationship was. He didn’t want to lose that. “Now tell me what did she say?”

You had almost forgotten the reason you had gone over. All you wanted was to inform your parents that you would be taking Dean along as your plus one to your cousin’s wedding next weekend. “Does it matter?” you shrugged. “I’m taking you with me anyway.” It was obvious your parents had been offing you as a single woman to your relatives. “I’m going to show you off and rub it in all my bitchy cousins’ faces that I am happily taken.” They could all shove their opinions up their asses. You were happy with your private life. They didn’t have to know every detail of your life but you didn’t want the phone to start ringing months later when they found out.

Dean laughed, your determination was as bright as ever. “You know more than anyone how much I love you.” Dean took out a familiar gold ring from his pocket and slid it on your finger. “You forgot this again.”

The opposite hand clutched at your chest as you experienced a mini heart attack. “I DIDN’T-?” you exclaimed, socked. Never in your life had you had a real gold ring, let alone one with diamonds. It was hard adjusting to it. Wanting to take care of it, you would constantly take it off and place it in “safe places” to avoid losing it. “I could have lost it and never known until now.” It didn’t help that you had a full set of midi rings on each hand.

Dean smiled not thinking much about it. “It wasn’t lost. You left it on the tray beside the bathroom sink.” He knew you had probably rushed out of the shower forgetting to get your jewelry. “The necklace is in there too.”

Great, even your specially designed necklace had been left behind. “I’m such a bad girlfriend.” Dean had given it to you on your most recent anniversary. It hardly ever left your neck, the exception being when you showered. 

“You’re not a bad girlfriend...” Dean seemed to defend you. “...You’re just a forgetful fiance.”

Because of Dean’s popularity, the whole engagement had to be kept between you two until he could find a way to get the news out there without some third-party speculation. He wanted to personally announce it- let it all come from him.

The truth was you were pregnant! HIs proposal and your test results came too close together making it difficult to announce without people writing it off like a shotgun wedding. He was too happy to fight with reporters. 

“For our child’s sake, I hope you don’t continue to forget things.”

“What, you think I’ll forget the baby at the hospital or something?” you laughed jokingly. 

He joined in the laughter but very seriously began to wonder what your parents' reaction would be to the news. Thankfully you had yet to show any signs of pregnancy and could put off the worry for a few more months. He, on the other hand, was worried since day one. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked when you saw his smile fade.

“You don’t think me being a singer is-” His lips stopped moving as yours joined his in a soft heartfelt kiss. 

The love would always be there no matter what Dean did for a living. If he continued as a singer into his old age or if he quit and became a hip stay at home dad. You never wanted him to doubt. “Is that a good enough answer?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t hear you.” He slyly countered, “can you repeat it?”

Even if he was playing around you let him have it once more. This time you wrapped your arms around his neck demanding to be carried off like the spoiled queen he taught you to be.

\\\

The wedding went...well. 

Dean was popular with all your relatives aged 30 and down. They didn’t even need to be introduced rather they had to be reminded he wasn’t there as a singer but as your fiance boyfriend. They kept nagging him to sing. You, of course, fought them off trying to keep it a day off for Dean.

Being the greatest person alive, Dean gave in to the bride’s wishes. He assured you it was no problem and that it would “give your parents a chance to see first hand what he did.” 

Your parents had never so much as heard Dean. They were pleasantly surprised when they heard his soft melodic voice fill the event venue. Because of his tattoos, fancy clothes, and common misconceptions of hip-hop singers they had painted him differently. 

It was funny to see your father’s frown of approval. It was hard to hear them but you were sure he had said something along the lines of “not bad” to your mother.

He rejoined you after taking a few pictures. “That was interesting...” he gave you a peck on the cheek as he took his seat beside you once more. “Your little cousin, the flower girl, she asked me to call a classmate and tell her it was really me in the picture she posted on Instagram.”

You were a fit of giggles as he explained the situation. 

“I didn’t know children could be so thorough.” The classmate practically gave him an over-the-phone interview to confirm his identity. 

“Children are more advanced nowadays.”

He couldn’t agree more. What grade-schooler had an iPhone and multiple social media profiles? As he learned today, many. Dean had to admit he was a bit worried about his own child. “We can’t give ours a phone until high school.”

You laughed, “deal.”

It wasn’t until a few months later that Dean broke the news about your engagement and subsequent pregnancy. That’s when Dean was invited to your parent’s house for the first time ever.

“Time to face the music I suppose.” Dean held your hand as he helped you out of the car.

“Should be easy.” You couldn’t resist but joke about it. “You are a singer after all.” The free hand rubbed your protruding belly. Finally, a sign of your child was given to you. Dean had worried every day since the announcement. There were so many comments being made.

“People will always talk. I’m sure many of your true fans will still love you and make up for those who wish to see us fail and become unhappy.”

“I’m not really worried about the fans.”

“Good because I’m not really worried about them either. Same goes for anyone else.” His eyes looked at you intently, waiting for you to put him at ease with your sweet words. “I love you and that’s all that matters.”

“I love you too,” he grinned. Instinctively, he had to kiss you for confessing your love to him.

“Haters can fight me.”

The idea of you fighting anyone, with your barely being able to make it through the day, was comical. Even if the baby had yet to grow significantly you were lethargic and suffered from swollen feet. Most days you ended up napping three to four times a day. Nonetheless, he was a supportive husband. “No one stands a chance.”

-end-

A/N: Yes, the title is in Spanish but the fic is still in English. I could have translated it but I simply chose to make the title of this fic be the name of the song that inspired it. The song is in Spanish so hence the title.

Dile que tu me quieres by Ozuna

English Translation

[ahgasescenarios]

Missing Out- Taeyong

Word count: 2k

Genre: smut/ fluff at the end

Plot summary: When you attend a college frat party, you run into someone you didn’t think you’d see ever again.

A/N: Helloooo, first of all I want to apologize for my lack of content I have been utterly uninspired, and I truly hope this scenario makes up for it. Also, I hit 540 followers that’s !! bloody !! amazing !! thank you all so so so much for supporting me and never giving up on my lazy ass, I love and appreciate every single one of you. I’ll work hard to become better at this and hopefully I’ll be back soon xx

masterlist

  If there was one thing frat parties were good for, it was without a doubt blowing off steam. That, and sleeping with hot college guys wasn’t so bad either. And for those same reasons were you now standing in front of the mansion who hosted weekly celebrations of the college life. Accompanying you was none other than your roommate (aka the most popular girl on campus) which explained why she disappeared from your sight in mere seconds.

I need a drink, you thought to yourself. And with that, you skipped over to where the makeshift bar was located. Pouring yourself a generous amount of liquid courage, you made your way to the couch, seeing as you barely knew a single soul at this party.

“There you are! Why are you sitting there all alone?” Your roommate pulled you up and dragged you to meet some of the frat boys. Not bad looking, you had to admit.

“This is Johnny, Jaehyun, Mark and where’s-”

She trailed off and all eyes turned to face a common silhouette coming down the stairs. You couldn’t clearly distinguish his features from afar, but it was obvious from his aura alone that he was the leader of this place. He waved to his guests and stationed himself in front of you. Only now did you realize who you were faced with. He had dyed his hair a dark red which made him even more alluring than he already was.

“Taeyong…?” You asked, your voice shaky. His eyes opened wide at the familiar call of his name.

“(Y/N), what are you doing here?”

“Wait, you two know each other?” Your roommate intervened.

“We used to go to school together.” Taeyong curtly replied.

Actually, you had been quite close friends for years, until someone decided you weren’t cool enough to hang out with- at least that’s the version you deemed most plausible. Regardless, you were not expecting to see him here and his presence multiplied your desire to get drunk.

“If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get another drink.” You hurriedly excused yourself and to be fair, you did need a refill. What you didn’t notice was the way Taeyong bit his lip watching you walk away from him, yet again. 

Well into the night, when everyone’s vision started to blur ever-so-slightly, one of the frat boys had the brilliant idea to start doing body shots. In your intoxicated state, the idea seemed like a lot of fun. Taeyong frowned from across the room, seeing you so psyched to try something of the sort.

You laid down on the table and waited until they were done prepping you. You didn’t notice a hovering presence beside you.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Taeyong’s face translated into obvious discontentment, but you were too drunk to care.

“Dude, chill. It’s all in good fun.”

“Fine then. You asked for it. ”

He took your initial partner’s spot while you laid there confused. The “ref” gave him the go and before you knew it, your high school crush was licking salt off your body. Your breath hitched in your throat and for a second you forgot how to breathe. It was over before you knew it, but your heart was still beating a mile a minute.

 “You shouldn’t let just anybody do that, (Y/N).”

“And you’re telling me you’re not just anybody?” You challenged him.

“I’m not.” The seriousness in his eyes made you back down.

“I need some air.” You turned away from him to make a beeline for the exit and never come back, but he grabbed your wrist before you could do so.

“Wait, (Y/N). I owe you an explanation.”

“For what?”

He sighed and looked down, losing face for the first time since you laid eyes upon him.

“For the way I ditched you in high school, you didn’t deserve that.”

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it.” You were desperate to wrap up the conversation before old feelings resurfaced.

He took a step towards you.

“How about a do-over?”

“Sure, we’re friends again yay! Okay bye bye-”

You made a second attempt to leave, but he grabbed your wrist. Again.

“Why are you acting so weird?”

“I’m drunk, duh.”

And another step.

“You see, I don’t think that’s it. And I won’t give up until I find out what it is.”

“What-”

He threw you over his shoulder before you could finish your sentence and only stopped once you were in his room which was much neater than you would’ve imagined it to be. But that wasn’t the issue at hand.

“Now spill, (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“No.” You crossed your arms like a child and he moved to sit on the bed. He gestured for you to come to him, which you didn’t. Then, an idea popped into your head. What if you had your fun?

You smirked and walked towards him, only to straddle his lap. Your hands went to play with his hair while you struggled not to laugh at his reactions.

“See, Taeyong, the thing is that you’re just too damn hot.” You leaned over to whisper in his ear. He gulped. “You don’t know how much I’d love to rip those clothes off.” You bit his earlobe teasingly before giggling to yourself.

“What’s so funny?” His brows were knitted together and you were almost scared of the Taeyong you saw before you.

“I mean your reactions were quite funny, plus you must hear that shit every day.” He tensed up underneath you. “Relax, I was only joking.”

“Well, I’m not.”

That said, his lips found yours and he grabbed your ass to show you he was serious. You moaned into the kiss, the 16-year-old in you not believing this was actually happening. Taeyong’s kisses got rougher, more desperate and you were oddly satisfied by that. You ground your hips against Taeyong- earning a low groan from him and you could feel just how much he hadn’t been joking about this.

He flipped positions so you were laying on the bed and you could already tell he liked being in control. You didn’t mind in the slightest bit though.

“I want those clothes off, now.” His voice literally dropped an octave, making you even hornier than you already were.

You obeyed his order and laid back down on the bed. He disposed of his own clothes, climbing on top of you. His clothes did not do him justice, he was much more sculpted than what you had initially thought and you were even more turned on just by the sight of him.

He dived in for another kiss, making sure to bite your bottom lip before pulling away. He licked his lips and walked back to his drawer for something.

“Are you going to be a good girl for me, baby?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.” He smirked and came towards you with a blindfold, taking your eyesight away for a calculated amount of time.

“Do you trust me?”

You nodded frenetically. He smiled. He had always thought you were the prettiest girl in any room you walked into but tied up for him like this, you were beautiful beyond words to him.

“Tell me if it’s too much, okay?”

“Okay.”

And like flicking a switch, caring Taeyong was gone. He kissed your neck, making sure to leave plenty of love bites in his passage.

“Do you think Daddy liked you behaving like a little slut out there tonight?”

“No, sir.”

You were already pooling in your panties.

“And what do sluts get?” He took your nipple in his mouth, your hands cuffed to the bedframe preventing you from doing anything about it. You simply let out a yelp. “They get punished.”

He slipped a finger inside you, earning a moan from your end.

“Shhh, baby, we wouldn’t want to alarm the others.” He hushed you with his own mouth on yours as he added another finger. He curled his fingers inside you, hitting the right spots over and over again.

“Taeyong, I’m close.” You whispered.

“Well, that’s just too bad.” He ceased his movements altogether, leaving you unsatisfied and upset beneath him.

“How does that feel, kitten?”

You didn’t answer, which was a bad decision.

“I asked you a question.” His serious voice was back, recreating the same effect as the first time.

“It doesn’t feel good, sir.”

“Good.” “Do you think you’re ready for me, slut?”

“Yes, sir.”

He grabbed a condom from his bedside table and rolled it down his shaft which had been hard for a while now. Seeing you as a writhing mess beneath him wasn’t something he’d be able to get out of his head.

His lips found your neck again and you moaned in return. He took the occasion to enter you slowly and your breath hitched in your throat for the second time that night. He felt much bigger than what you would have imagined.

“Please move, sir.” You let out in between breaths.

He complied, setting a slow pace so you could adjust to his size. Once you were comfortable, he threw your legs on his shoulders and accelerated his pace.

“Oh fuck, just like that.” You moaned out, your remaining senses overwhelmed with the amount of pleasure.

He smirked and his hand found your clitoris, massaging it at the same pace he was going. Within a few minutes of this sweet torture, your bundle of nerves took over and your orgasm overwhelmed all your senses. Your walls tightened around his member, to which he cursed under his breath. He came a few minutes after, releasing his load in the condom before throwing it away. He laid back down beside you as you both struggled to catch your breath.

He gently removed the blindfold covering your eyes, brushing your hair out of the way with his fingers.

“How was that?” He asked, still playing with your hair.

“Fucking amazing.” You giggled. “If I knew you were this good in bed, I would’ve reconnected with you lightyears ago.”

“I’m glad you can admit you’ve been missing out.” He laughed and god was it the most attractive sound you had ever heard.

“Fun fact, I actually had the fattest crush on you throughout high school.” He confessed.

“No way.”

“Why do you think I stopped talking to you all of a sudden? I knew you didn’t like me back, so I thought it would be better for both of us that way.”

“Oh my god, are you serious? Dude, I had a crush on you too.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

You looked at each other and simultaneously erupted in a fit of laughter, amused by how naïve you both were. You moved to stand up, but Taeyong grabbed your wrist.

“Okay, you have got to stop doing that.”

“Where are you going?” He mumbled.

“Just to wash up, I’ll be back if you want me to.”

“Of course, I want to cuddle now.”

You shook your head, who would’ve known that Lee Taeyong was such a big baby? You laughed to yourself as you washed off evidence of your sins then hurried back to Taeyong’s side.

“Missed me?” You wriggled your eyebrows at him.

He simply nodded, proceeding to sniff your hair (not so discreetly, might you add) and nuzzle his nose in the crook of your neck. His arm was wrapped around you and you swore 16-year-old you was having a heart attack by now. You closed your eyes, content for the first time in what might as well have been months. You hadn’t looked this forward to waking up next to someone before and the thought scared you a little, but it mostly excited you.

Needless to say, you had not seen this one coming, but you were far from complaining. Maybe this was life’s way of giving you a second chance with your first love, or it wasn’t. Perhaps, you had been missing out all those years of keeping your feelings at bay. But those days were over, and you were ready to take full advantage of whatever was next.

[kitsunelokiversali]

Magic in Words

Like I said before, I’m not going to post all the prompts from my 365 day challenge on my blog. So we’re starting off on my prompt fill for Day 144! This one is somewhat of a continuation from a reoccurring character, so you can find all of my prompt fills using her here for now. At some point I’m actually going to organize all the shorts in her world so it’s more readable. If you happen to like her, hit me up and let me know!

Day 144 of 365 Writing Prompts:

Mystical Creatures: Angels or other mystical creatures – use them as inspiration.

Original character and world

The dragon shifted with a huff, its scales hissing as they slid across the boulder and a lazy curl of smoke rising from its nostril. Light from the luminous runes eerily glinted off the large mass, the scales appearing coal-black in the dim cave. No other signs of life persisted in the shadows, and no other runes called for attention. All that was left was an empty cavern filled with the same purplish runes as the stairway and a dark, seething mass atop a lone boulder. Stalactites and stalagmites met in a mockery of prison bars between Sage and the beast, but she had no doubt they would do nothing to stop it. This… was not what she was expecting.

Panting from exhaustion, Sage collapsed back to the bottom step of the spiral staircase. There was nothing she could use. Simply glowing runes she couldn’t read and a monster that would surely eat her the second it woke up. This was why Sage didn’t do things. Halwyn trusted her, for once, to save his life and here she was about to get herself and subsequently Halwyn killed. Monta Pathon was right, life was a piece of shiznapple when she looked at it.

Lacking both energy and hope, Sage waited at the bottom of the stairs. For the end, she supposed. Figures the pretty Sage would be the one to win. Regular, just-graduated-high-school Sage flopped back against the stairs, ignoring the ledges digging into her back. Such minor discomforts were an old hand at this point. Pouting at the creepy dragon Sage muttered, “Can’t you wake up and eat me already? I don’t want to starve to death.”

“I’m afraid I don’t care for human flesh.”

In all fairness, newer, braver Sage was not expecting a dragon to talk. She had every right to screech like a little girl. She was a girl. Not short enough to still be called little, but she wasn’t tall either. So there. Every right to scream. Plus the dragon was awake for who knows how long.

“Calm yourself child,” Sage could hear a rattle in the air, suspiciously similar to a laugh. Did dragons laugh? Did anyone not laugh at Sage? It had gone past insulting and straight into expected at this stage. In a way, that was worse. “What brings you to my humble abode?” A flash of white glittered in the dim glow of the cavern before disappearing back into the shadows.

Sage forced herself to sit back up and eyed the dragon. For all the eeriness it bore, she wasn’t getting murder vibes off of it. It helped that the voice Sage heard wasn’t the growling boom she expected dragons to have, but rather a deep husky woman’s voice. If she didn’t see the familiar shape from storybooks before her, Sage would have thought she was talking to an older woman, 40’s or 50’s at the most. Considering how many people Sage spoke to in her life, she thought she was a pretty good judge of that too. The girl had few skills in life, and that was one of them. Leave it to this journey to mess that up for her too.

Somewhat cross, Sage waved her hand in a pointless gesture then followed it up with, “Oh, nothing really. Just seeking death I suppose.”

“Oh? How interesting.”

She didn’t see how that was interesting, but maybe dragons hidden away in ancient caves had weird standards. “What brings you here? I guess.”

The dragon flashed long fangs at her again and shifted, its body lifting from the boulder as a giant head neared the natural bars formed between them. White eyes glinted as they settled on Sage, and the girl did everything she could to remain still. Seeing the long horns and spikes reaching from its crown to its neck was not helping Sage’s fear levels. “You could say I’m waiting.” Oh right. She had asked a question. Sage nodded and waved the dragon on. “I so rarely get such special visitors. What truly brings you to this place, child?”

“Special? Me?” Sage scoffed. She hadn’t wanted to say that about herself, but the mockery from all these weird supernatural beings was getting annoying. There was the weird memory ghost, perfect talented Sage, and now a dragon. It would be much appreciated if they could all stop forcing her to explain how truly uninteresting she was. Moving on, mostly to save her damaged ego, Sage added, “I thought I could find something here. Or, well, my companion did.”

The dragon hummed low, the sound vibrating even in Sage’s chest, before asking, “Companion?”

“Yeah,” apparently she was having this conversation now, “this… Actually, I’m not sure how to explain how I ended up here. I barely know.” Sage laughed breathlessly, looking back on everything that led her to talking to a dragon of all things. Once upon a time she just chatted with little old ladies no one spoke to anymore, just to make their day. Even now she still wished for once upon a time again. Pursing her lips, Sage started up again. If nothing else, Sage could talk. “This guy I’m traveling with is… hurt. I mean, not really hurt. His memories were locked away or something like that, and we’ve been going to all these places,” she waved her hand at the runes lining the walls, “to break the lock. I don’t know what happened really. He just suddenly couldn’t keep going. He got sick, and he’s been bedridden—or,” Sage gasped as she realized, “he was bedridden for days before I left. I don’t know if…” It was too scary to say.

“He’s still alive?” The words would sting if the dragon hadn’t said them so kindly. Tears pushed at Sage’s eyes again, boiling under her skin, but she pushed them back down. Halwyn would make fun of her if he ever found out she cried over a little illness.

Sniffling, Sage jerked her shoulders in a shrug, “Maybe. He might have been delirious, but he said this place had the answer. Something that could help him. I guess not.”

Silence filled the air between them. Although Sage’s pants had calmed to small breaths, she still couldn’t hear anything else. Across from her, the dragon stood still, its body a vacuum of darkness and silence in the quiet cave. They waited, eyes on one another, until the dragon broke the spell. “I would not speak so soon, were I you, child. Perhaps the answer it is you seek lies much closer to home than you realize?”

The girl smiled bitterly, all of her regular sarcasm dying acrid deaths on her tongue before she could speak it. “I don’t think I have time for that. It would take longer than Halwyn has—”

“I speak not of a location. Rather, I believe you have all the power you need already.”

Again, Sage was told this. Again, some being pretending at wisdom lied to her face. Sage grit her teeth, bit out, “What power?” The dragon tilted its head, but watched patiently as Sage’s long simmer finally came to a boil. “I don’t have power! I have nothing. No skills, no magic, no use. All of this started because some jerk thought I was some old mage that I’m not! Every single one of you! All of you just assume on your own that I can use magic and you’re only ever disappointed! All I have are words! Nothing else! Just… words.” She deflated.

“Did you not know, child? Magic is simply words.”

Shooting to her feet, Sage shot back, “I know! I know you can’t use magic without words! That’s all I’ve ever been told! Over and over again. Just because I can talk to anyone doesn’t mean I’m special! I’m just plain old boring useless Sage.” Her breathing quickened and she had to stop to swallow the lump rising in her throat. It probably wasn’t wise to yell at the dragon. Enough was enough though, and Sage was tired of being lost and confused and swallowing her tongue as more powerful people ruined her life all for her translation quirk. “I can’t cast magic. I can’t even read. I can’t save anyone. I’m just… getting in the way. Worthless in all this. I can’t even help Halwyn when he needs it. Just for once I wanted to,” She splayed her hands out, trying to find the words, “I wanted to be more than me.”

Newer, braver Sage furiously rubbed at the moisture dripping from her eyes. It was just sweat, she chanted to herself. She wasn’t crying, because crying wouldn’t help at all. Here she was, all by herself for once, with someone relying on her, and she broke down in tears as a dragon looked on. Sage was supposed to be the spunky dork who always had something to say. She wasn’t supposed to say those things; the doubts and fears always lodged deep in her chest. Those were words that were meant to never be spoken, and she went and said them.

“You poor child.” Warm breath brushed across Sage’s face, and she realized with a start just how cold she was. Aching fingers curled as she looked back at the dragon. “Words are so much more than magic.” Even as Sage frowned, the dragon gently admonished her, “No, do not frown child. Perhaps you do not realize the weight you have born already? I suppose no one would speak it, for they believe you already bear the words you need.”

Sage groaned and threw her arms up in the air, “What words? Why do you all keep going on about this? Just tell me! Let’s just assume I’m not smart enough to figure it out!”

“Do your words not save? You speak to me in my tongue, and my heart is filled with a joy you cannot know. How many more have you saved thus?”

The girl blinked. Reeled back. Asked, “Talking to you?”

“Do words not connect us? Does language not bar us from one another. Yet you overcome it so easily. Your companion, the people you have undoubtedly met along your journey. How many spoke to you just for the chance to speak?”

As the girl stuttered, the dragon waited. Just as patiently as it allowed the girl to vent, the dragon allowed her her confusion. “How is that saving anyone? I’m just talking.”

“Surely you know what it is to be alone now? For the words to die quiet deaths in your heart. We all feel that. What is ‘just talking’ to you is a powerful connection to others. To feel that they will be heard, that they are not alone is more than just anyone can do. By ‘just talking’ you overcome the barriers language has formed to separate us.” White eyes settled on Sage once more, and the girl realized the flash of fangs was the dragon’s version of a smile.

Still confused, Sage sat back down. In a way, she hadn’t expected anyone to actually explain the obsession with her ability. Everyone, and everything, else had insisted on being cryptic about it. Last she checked, dragons were cryptic in stories too. As the dragon settled back around its rock to wait, she thought on the people she had idly struck conversations with. Many of them lit up as soon as she spoke, barreling forward in some mundane conversation. Their eyes shone and more often than not, they grinned at her all the while. Somehow those faces had been overwritten with the death threats and glares she had been receiving. Were those smiles really so important? Did those silly conversations mean so much? A part of Sage was sad she would never know.

[patton-croc-agenda]

Coral and Crowns (Ch.2/4)

A/N: YES I KNOW THE ORIGINAL SAID OUT OF 3 BUT THIS CHAPTER GOT LONG SO I HAD TO CHOP IT IN HALF SO RRY

Anyway, it’s my pal @impatentpending‘s birthday today, so go leave nice things in her inbox and don’t tell her it was me. A special thanks as always to my beta reader @pattonistooprecious also!

Here come the boys. Oh, and I guess we figure out what happened to Patton.

Pairings: Royality, Implied Analogical

Warnings: None

Words: 5,708

Previous: Ch.1

Next: TBA

Read it on Ao3

A week. A week since their date, and a week since Roman had seen Patton. He sighed, tired, and ran a hand through his hair as he slowly sat down on the rock, dipping his feet in the cool water. Roman didn’t know what he’d done wrong. Maybe he had been too intense with their makeout session last time. Then again, it had been Patton who had initiated it, technically.

Maybe when Patton had mouthed “don’t” he had meant, “don’t just sit there you useless buffoon.” Or, maybe, just maybe, Patton was one of those people who told you one thing then expected you to do the opposite. Damnit, Roman thought only girls did that.

Then again, Patton wasn’t like that. He knew Patton...didn’t he? He put his face in his hands. At the start of the week, he couldn’t believe that Patton would ditch him. He stayed up all night just waiting. Waiting for Patton to show up, to explain. He never did.

Then, Roman had been angry. Angry at Patton for just leaving him, angry at himself for getting so worked up over what was probably nothing, angry at whatever was stopping Patton from coming to see him. Because, that had to be it, right? He plead that was all it was. He prayed it wasn’t because Patton hated Roman now.

At this point, Roman was just sad. Sad that he’d lost the best thing that had happened to him in years. Sad that he might never see him again. Sad that Patton didn’t lo-

“I think that’s him,” a voice hissed, quiet. Roman’s head snapped up and he looked around. No one else should be around at this time of day, it just wasn’t a thing that happened.

“Indubitably, he’s the only one out at this hour.” Roman scanned the beach again. He must be going insane.

“Shit, I think he heard us,” the first voice groaned.

“That’s alright, we were going to talk to him anyway,” the second said.

“Can’t we just drown him?”

“No, we need him.”

“Ugh, this feels so wrong.”

“Well, it is technically illegal, so your feelings would be correct,” Roman swept his gaze across the water, only to see two men who had definitely not been there about ten seconds ago.

“Um...hello?” Roman said, cautious. One of the men swam closer. He appeared to be wearing eyeshadow under his eyes, which was strange both as a fashion choice and for the fact it had yet to wash off. He scowled at Roman from behind purple tinted bangs as he fidgeted with the strap of a bag slung across his shoulder.. The second man swam forward, adjusting glasses that looked uncannily similar to Patton’s.

“Salutations, my name is Logan Meer, and this is my most favorable companion, Virgil Pike. Are we to assume you are Prince Roman?” Roman blinked, the names sounding familiar, but he couldn’t put his finger on why.

“Uh, Roman Prince, actually. It’s just my last name, not my title,” Virgil glared.

“Great, Patton couldn’t even pick actual fucking royalty,” he seethed. Logan gave him a funny look.

“Actually, considering what we are about to request of him, if he were truly royal this might cause even more drama then is already present.” Roman froze. Virgil had said Patton. That was where he’d heard the names from!

“You’re Patton’s friends!” He gasped, Virgil turned his attention back from Logan to Roman and huffed, folding his arms across his chest.

“Yeah, and you’re an asshole,” Virgil snapped. Roman threw his hands up.

“You don’t even know me!”

“Are you sure we can’t drown him,” Virgil asked Logan as he turned to him once more. Logan pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

“Roman. I am sure Patton has filled you in on...our situation...correct?”

“Uh. No?” Roman said, “He hasn’t said anything about his personal life, really.” Virgil scoffed, as if it were somehow Roman’s fault that Patton decided he was some mysterious anime character with a deep and strange past.

Logan, who had until that point been fairly expressionless, gave Virgil a panicked look. A sort of “shit I didn’t expect that answer what the fuck am I supposed to do with that” look that Roman swore he must’ve pulled at least twenty times across his lifetime; emphasis on ‘at least’

“Relax,” Virgil held up a hand to Logan, “I got it.” He swam forward, and Roman felt hands wrap around his ankles.

“What are yo-”

“Virgil, NO!” Roman barely heard the end of Logan’s shout before he was yanked underwater. He tumbled around under the waves, trying to regain a sense of up and down. Once he did, he began to swim up again when he saw something black and purple. It looked a lot like...a large fish tail.

Suddenly, the tail moved down, and attached to it was a grinning Virgil. Roman let out a shocked sound, which translated as bubbles underwater. It was then that Roman remembered that no matter how shocked he was about Virgil being a fucking merman his body still needed air. Honestly, so demanding.

Something wrapped under his arms, and he looked up to see Logan had grabbed him. He swam upward, pulling Roman with him. Roman gasped for air, scrabbling back up onto the rock.

“What in all of earth’s oceans were you thinking?” Logan snarled at Virgil. Roman wasn’t sure if he was hallucinating those sharp teeth or not. Virgil looked offended.

“I was just trying to show him! You think he’d believe it if we just told him?!”

“Better than pulling him underwater and shattering his sense of reality!”

“He fucking deserved it! Plus, I’m pissed and worried about Patton!”

“AND YOU THINK I’M NOT?!” Logan’s voice seemed to echo across the empty beach. He was breathing hard, and a tense silence filled the air. Roman had to cut it, though. He had to know.

“Why are you worried, what’s wrong with Patton?” Roman asked. Logan and Virgil shared a look before Logan hesitantly swam over, pulling himself up onto the rock. His tail was various shades of navy blue.

“Seven days ago,” Logan began, softly, “Prince Patton Coral of the North Atlantic Kingdom went missing.” Virgil pulled himself up next to Logan, pointedly not looking at Roman.

“Prince?”

“Yes. Patton is the only heir to our king, which made his disappearance all the more worrisome. The good news is, we have located him,” Roman sat up straighter at that, and Logan threw him a weary look. “The bad news, The Sea Dragon Witch has him.”

“The Sea Dragon...Witch?”

“Correct. She is a powerful creature. She told the kingdom she had him, but made no demands of ransom for his return. See, she is a creature of chaos- and with Patton’s father being old and unwell, leaving him heirless would cause riots and war among the people on who should next lead our people.”

“Then why reveal she had him at all?” Roman asked.

Logan stared at his tail, “It amuses her. She wants us to come after her so she can slaughter us.” Roman swallowed nervously.

“How did-”

“How did she manage to kidnap Patton?” Roman winced, “Simple. Patton went to her in order to gain legs so he could go on a date with you. We assume afterwards she grabbed him when he was unaware.” Logan’s expression was unreadable, but Virgil hunched down. Roman felt guilt coil in his belly.

“What do you want me to do?” he whispered. Virgil finally looked at him again.

“You. You’re gonna help us save Patton.” He turned and reached inside the bag he was wearing, pulling out two small bottles and passing them to Roman.

“Drink these. One is a potion to help you breathe and speak underwater, and one is to stop the pressure from crushing you like a tin can.” Roman blinked, narrowing his eyes at Virgil.

“Did you make these?” he asked.

“Uh, yeah?”

“Why should I trust anything you give me? You attempted to drown me!”

“I wasn’t trying to drown you,” Virgil scoffed, “I mean, I wanted to, but it wasn’t my intent. Still, you’re just gonna have to trust me on this. We’ll need a lot of that if we’re going to help Patton.”

Virgil turned to Logan and hesitantly put a hand on his arm. Roman noted a slight blush as he said, “Uh. You alright? You’ve been in the sun for a while.” Logan nodded.

“Yes. The sun began to set about halfway through our discussion, and should be gone entirely within a few moments,” Logan briefly put his hand over Virgil’s, “However, I think I should get back underwater now, as I am getting a bit lightheaded. My kind was never really meant for seeing the shore. I will meet you two down below.” Logan slid into the water without a further word.

“What did he mean by his kind?” Roman asked. Virgil shot him a look.

“He’s a deep sea merman. S’why he’s got sharp teeth. They don’t do well in sunlight since they typically live at the bottom of the ocean. You can ask him about it if you get the chance, he loves to gush,” Virgil shrugged.

“Okay,” Roman breathed deeply, “Okay…” he muttered again. Virgil sighed in response.

“I’m gonna meet up with Lo. We won’t wait long. Make up your mind, asshole.” With that, Virgil dove in after his friend. Roman looked at the bottles and ran a hand through his hair, laughing a bit.

“This is...insane. This is actually fucking insane!” Roman said, standing up and pacing across the rock best he could. His brain was swirling, tumbling. Merfolk were real. Patton was a prince. Patton was a prince for merfolk who existed. Also, dragons and magic were real too?

Roman gripped his hair and took a deep breath. How could he do this? In the grand scheme of things, he’d only known Patton for a little over a month. Was he really going to risk his life for a man he hardly knew when he had a job he had to get to tomorrow? When he had rent due soon? When he had-

When he...had nothing. Patton had been the closest friend he’d had in a while, and now he was missing. His beautiful starfish. The man who puffed out his cheeks like a pufferfish when Roman had a rough day. The man who could eat an entire pizza within a minute. The man who tasted like sweet tea and the sea. The man who he lo-

“Screw it, I never liked my job anyway,” Roman cut off his own train of thought, picking up the first bottle and opening it. Without letting himself think about it, he downed the whole thing.

It tasted alarmingly like sea water and nothing else. Roman drank the second one. It tasted the same. Roman was about 99% sure he’d been jipped, but he guessed there was only one way to really know for sure. He took one last breath of air before he leapt into the water.

The second his head was submerged, Roman let his breath go. Then, he inhaled deeply. Trust, right? Water flooded into his systems, but oddly enough he felt some weird rushing around the sides of his neck, and the water didn’t seem to reach his lungs. Air did though. Roman touched the sides of his neck, half expecting to feel some kind of gills, but the skin was still smooth.

“Coming, pretty boy?” Roman turned to see Virgil further out in the water, arms folded. His tail swished, reminding Roman of an annoyed cat.

“Yeah, yeah,” Roman kicked after him. The pair had to swim downward a bit to meet up with Logan, who was sheltering under a dark overcropping of rock.

“Okay, question,” Roman said, causing the two mermen to look at him, “If you guys can do magic stuff, then why did Patton need to go to a Sea Dragon Witch for legs?” The pair shared a look, before Virgil sighed.

“Not all merfolk have magic,” he gestured to his tail, “with the exception of the royal family, merfolk with magical capabilities typically have a plain black or white tail with colorful stripes,” Virgil pointed in turn to the four bright purple stripes lining his tail.

“One stripe is the lowest level of magic, six is the highest. We typically have two to four. Only a merperson with six stripes would be able to pull that shit with Patton getting legs, and we only have one in our kingdom. And, before you ask, Patton did ask him. He turned him down, not expecting for Patton to take a more drastic measure.”

Virgil clearly didn’t feel like explaining any more, so Logan took over, pulling what looked like a book from Virgil’s bag and swimming over to Roman.

“The reason we acquire your assistance is this,” he handed Roman the book. It felt totally dry, which was freaky since they were completely submerged in the water. Roman opened it to the page Logan had bookmarked. It didn’t appear to be in English.

“Is this some...ancient merfolk language?” Roman breathed. Logan sighed.

“No, it is German,” Logan took the book back, looking at the page again, “And it tells the story of one of our first Queens, Margo Coral. She was engaged to a beautiful mermaid named Amara, but the night before their wedding, Amara was kidnapped from her personal chambers by the Sea Dragon Witch.

Despite all protests, Queen Margo went out after the beast. Regardless of her royal position, Margo was a talented swordswoman and blacksmith. She created her own sword, one so full of love and desperation that it had enough power to injure the Sea Dragon Witch so she and her fiance could escape,” Logan snapped the book closed in a flurry of bubbles.

“I still can’t believe we’re trusting a fucking fairytale,” Virgil hissed. Logan raised an eyebrow at him.

“Well, unless you can think of any other weapons that could possibly slay the Sea Dragon Witch with nearly impenetrable scales, then this is all we have,” he turned to Roman again.

“The sword was lost eons ago, but there’s a riddle hidden in the palace about how to find it. I, erm, Patton and I found it when we were young and exploring the castle:

‘To find the sword of power true

Reach out for one of deepest ocean blue.

To reach the sword you need

Acquire one of magical esteem.

To gain the sword of love

 Seek one from the world above.

And in order to begin your journey,

You must find the key

From the very bottom of the sea.’”

Roman frowned, and Virgil crossed his arms, leaning against the rock Logan had previously been sheltering behind.

“That’s still awfully vague. Which part of the bottom of the sea is it referring to?” Roman asked. Logan sighed and shook his head.

“I believe we narrowed it down to Mariana Trench, the deepest point in all of the oceans in the world. I do wish they said ‘bottom of the ocean’ and not ‘bottom of the sea’, however. It would have made things so much easier.”

“But then it wouldn’t rhyme,” Roman informed. Logan scowled, ignoring the comment.

“I inquired a few merfolk who lived there, and they informed me of a small cave guarded by a puzzle lock. I have yet to check it out, as we did not want to proceed before filling you in. We should swim there now, and you two will be required to wait as I swim down.” Roman made an offended noise.

“Virgil gave me a potion to resist pressure, why can’t we come?” Virgil actually laughed at that.

“Logan’s a deep sea merman, remember? Sunlight merfolk and twilight merfolk have pressure limits, but deep sea merfolk are built to live in the depths. The potion I gave you will keep you from being crushed at up to 3000 meters deep, but any further and you’re pretty much screwed.” Roman swallowed, not enjoying that imagery.

“Correct, now, we really should get moving. Even at top speed the journey will be roughly forty eight hours,” Roman felt ice in his veins at the thought of Patton having to spend even another minute in the clutches of a Sea Dragon Witch- much less two days, but he supposed it couldn't be helped.

 “Right,” Virgil nodded and before Roman could even blink, the pair were gone, leaving only two small streams of bubbles. Damn, maybe he had been hallucinating this entire time. That wouldn’t explain why he was breathing underwater, though.

Roman blinked, and the pair were back, both looking annoyed.

“Are you not coming?” Logan asked, irritated. Roman rubbed his eyes.

“I mean, I am, but I didn’t even see you guys go,” Logan snapped his fingers, a task Roman would have previously thought impossible underwater. Then again, merpeople were real and he was in lo- dating one; nothing was impossible anymore.

“Right, humans can not swim at the same speed as merfolk. Well, shit,” the last part was muttered, as if swearing were not a thing Logan was often granted. Virgil gave him a funny look, swimming over to Roman.

“Alright, Prince shithead, grab on,” Virgil shrugged his shoulders. Roman blinked.

“What?” he and Logan spoke at the same time. Virgil cringed.

“Just- hold onto my shoulders, alright? I’ve done this with Patton loads of times and so long as his…” Virgil aggressively gestured towards Roman’s legs, “...k’now, don’t get in the way, then I should only swim slightly slower than normal.”

“Okay,” Roman said, sighing. A strangled sound wrestled its way from Logan’s throat, and Roman and Virgil both looked at him curiously.

“Problem, Specs?” Roman asked. Logan’s face went pink, and his teeth were obviously grit as he replied.

“No that. That logically makes sense. However, I am also stronger than Virgil, perhaps I should carry Roman,” Virgil shot him an unimpressed look.

“You can carry him later, I don’t want him for the entire trip,” Virgil wrinkled his nose.

“Fine. Let us depart for real this time,” Logan turned away from Roman and Virgil in a way reminiscent of a pouty child. Roman wondered what was getting under his scales as he hesitantly put his hands on Virgil’s shoulders and let his legs float up a little in the water so they wouldn’t get in the way of Virgil’s tail.

“Alright. Off we go to solve a puzzle,” Virgil said.

“To find the sword,” Logan added.

“To save Patton,” Roman said, gripping Virgil’s shoulders harder as the two mermen shot off, taking Roman with them.

~~~~~

After what Roman had to assume was roughly eight hours of straight swimming, Roman decided that Logan was tolerable. Unlike Virgil, who seemed to grunt or hiss at everything he said like a goddamn cat, Logan would actually engage Roman in conversation.

“Watson is not a useless tool!” Roman seethed, arms tightening around Logan’s shoulders.

“Yes he is. He is nothing but a hindrance to Sherlock, and his feelings ruin everything.” Honestly, Roman wasn’t sure how Logan got his hands on any Sherlock media- something about merfolk using magic to keep books dry even underwater- but either way Logan was an idiot if he thought Watson was useless. Then again, Roman had only ever seen the show, and Logan had only ever read a few Sherlock Holmes novels.

“Well what about the time he-” Roman cut off as Logan swam straight into Virgil, who had stopped. Virgil reached his hand out and closed it in a fist, and when he pulled the fist towards himself a sword seemed to materialize from thin ai- water.

“What the fu-”

“Halt, who goes there?” Roman was surprised to see two merfolk swim towards them, both holding spears and looking more than a little pissed. Despite knowing merfolk were real now, Roman had for some reason not expected to see any on this trip; and judging from the tiny little “shit” Logan whispered, he hadn’t either. Roman felt Logan pry his hands from his shoulders. Virgil swam in front of Roman while Logan swam over to the newcomers.

“Greetings. I am Sir Logan Meer, Advisor to Prince Patton Coral of the North Atlantic Kingdom. This is my companion, Sir Virgil Pike, personal guard,” Virgil dipped his head, sticking his fist back out and causing the sword to vanish.

“Who is the third?” one of the merfolk, a mermaid with a bright red tail asked. Her hair was done up and Roman quietly admired her makeup while simultaneously wondering how she got makeup underwater. Logan glanced at Roman before returning his gaze to the two.

“A citizen from our kingdom- Roman Capistratus. He is traveling with us.” The second merperson narrowed his eyes. Roman noted an eel swimming circles around his head, occasionally burying its face in his short, dark hair. It was both scary and adorable in equal measures.

“I apologize, Sir Logan, but we are guards of the South Atlantic kingdom, and we were told to report any sightings of you. Surely you know you were ordered not to leave the palace?” Roman couldn’t see Logan’s face, but his tone of voice had an edge.

“King Emile did not need to spread the word far as the South Atlantic for me. I am merely his advisor.”

“He is simply worried after what happened with his son. Rumor has it that if the Prince is unable to be saved, he will name you heir,” the mermaid chimed in. Roman swore he could hear Logan grit his teeth.

“That will not be necessary, as we are on our way to save Patton now.” The guard Roman had dubbed ‘Eel Man’ in his head jerked to attention at that, eel swimming down to coil against his arm.

“That is a suicide mission. Sir Logan, I must insist I return you return home at once-” Roman felt something brush against his arm. Virgil leaned back and whispered in Roman’s ear.

“Trust me?”

Roman gave Virgil a disbelieving look. He’d already drank his seawater potions, how much more did this man need.

“Sure,” Roman whispered back, deciding to go along one more time. The thing that had brushed against Roman’s arm had been Virgil’s hand apparently, as his fingers tightened around his wrist. Virgil suddenly shot up in the water, swimming over the heads of the guards. Their gazes flicked up and they started back.

“Is that a human?!” Eel man asked, gripping his spear tighter. Fashion icon mermaid threw her spear at them, just barely missing Roman’s leg. Logan saw the opportunity and swam after them.

“Logan, they’re after you. I need you to swim down as far as you can until they stop following,” Virgil said. Logan shot him a look.

“Virgil I am not going to leave you,” his voice was fierce, and if it were anyone but Virgil Roman was sure they’d cave. Virgil just scowled.

“You’ll draw their attention temporarily. It will be the best for everyone,” he reasoned. Logan clearly still despised the idea, but he shot downward. The merperson and his eel shot down after Logan, but the mermaid kept after them. Roman felt Virgil’s nails dig into his wrist.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Virgil shot sideways, dragging Roman with him. Honestly, being yanked around like a ragdoll by a magical merman was not what Roman was expecting at all when he started dating Patton.

“Okay, you can do this Virgil. C’mon, c’mon,” Virgil muttered to himself, screwing his eyes shut. Roman didn’t know what he was trying to do until he suddenly vanished from view.

“Virgil?” Roman asked, He could still feel the nails digging into his wrist, and heard the quiet hiss to shut up, so he knew Virgil was still there. Must be more of his magic.

The mermaid swam around, looking confused and muttering a few curses before she slowly swam back, occasionally looking over her shoulder as if hoping to spot them.

The second she was fully from sight, Virgil appeared in Roman’s vision again. He looked even paler than normal, and his fingers were still an iron grip around Roman’s wrist. Roman realized with a start that Virgil was shaking.

“Hey, hey, she’s gone now. It’s alright,” Roman watched as Virgil opened his mouth, as if he wanted to speak, but couldn’t.

“Virgil, may I touch you?” Roman asked softly. Virgil managed a sharp nod, and Roman laid a hand on his shoulder, rubbing his thumb across the skin in soothing circles.

They stayed like that, just hovering in the middle of the ocean, until Virgil seemed to relax a little.

“Sorry,” Virgil grumbled. Roman offered him a nervous smile.

“Don’t apologize. Um, would you mind if I asked how you did that thing. With the sword?” Roman was curious, but also wanted to distract Virgil from whatever had caused such a reaction. It seemed to work, at least a little.

“Oh, it’s really simple magic. Patton taught me how to do it, actually.”

“Patton can do magic?” Roman could hardly mask his surprise. Who would’ve thought his boyfriend was not only smart, funny, talented, and beautiful- but also magic. Virgil chuckled a little.

“Yeah, everyone in the royal family can do a small amount of magic. They’re the only merfolk I can think of with any sort of magical ability that don’t have the traditional looking tail,” Virgil shimmied his fins for effect, causing Roman to snort.

“What does his tail look like? I never got to see it,” Roman asked, voice growing soft. Virgil looked at him with an expression Roman could only call calculating.

“It’s beautiful. Sky blue, with a large, frilly fin. He loves accessorizing it too. Usually with pearls or gold,” Virgil’s smile was fond. “If it were anyone but Patton, it would seem like a show of wealth and status, but nah. Patton just likes to look pretty.” Roman chuckled softly, his heart aching to see his lo- boyfriend again.

The two were silent again, stewing to themselves. Suddenly, Virgil perked his head up, and Roman looked to see Logan swimming towards them. He felt relief flood through him, and swam along with Virgil over to him. It was then Roman noticed there was a fish in Logan’s mouth- body pierced and bloody under his now stained fangs. Logan spit it out.

“There you two are. Sorry for the wait, after I lost the guard I decided to grab something for dinner. I think after all that we deserve a moment to simply relax.”

“Relax? We can’t relax! We need to save Patton,” Roman protested. Virgil and Logan shared a look.

“Roman…” Virgil began carefully, “you aren’t the one who’s been swimming almost non-stop for eight hours dragging something that weighs more than you.” Roman scowled and folded his arms, but didn’t put up any more of a fight. They were right, and it wasn’t as if he could continue on his own. Not just because he was much, much slower than the two, but also because the stupid riddle thing required both a deep sea merperson and and magic user. Neither of which Roman was.

“Okay, but I’m not eating that,” Roman gestured to the fish. Logan frowned.

“Have you chosen to be an herbivore?” Logan asked, grabbing Roman by the jaw suddenly and prying his teeth apart. “Because it appears you have the same teeth as twilight or sunlight merfolk, who are omnivores.”

“What? No, but that fish is raw and looks disgusting,” Roman scowled. Virgil snorted, picking up the fish.

“Seriously? How do you make it less ‘disgusting’ then?” Roman rolled his eyes.

“By cooking it, duh.” The two merfolk stared at him blankly, before Logan’s eyes lit up.

“Oh! Isn’t that when humans use “fire” to char their food to try and remove harmful bacteria?”

“Um. Yes?”

“Fascinating.” Logan said, “Sadly, we can not cook this, so unless you’d rather eat seaweed or algae, fish it is.” He took the fish and ripped into it with his fangs. Roman was seriously considering algae at that point as he handed it over to Virgil, who looked at Roman a second before turning away from him to eat. Apparently, merfolk could still feel self conscious. He handed the remaining chunk to Roman, who looked at it, then up at the mermen who stared expectantly. He sighed, screwing his eyes shut and biting down.

~~~~~

Virgil slowed to a stop next to Logan. Roman, who had maybe been half asleep, jolted awake when Virgil slapped him with his tail.

“Wha?”

“We’re here,” Virgil said. Roman felt something akin to relief at that. After two straight days of travel with only four or five pitstops (apparently merfolk potions slowed digestive functions, which baffled Roman and embarrassed Virgil to talk about), they had finally reached Mariana Trench. Roman had obviously never seen it before, but it looked like a looming crack in the ocean floor. Logan adjusted his glasses and looked over at the two.

“I will be heading down. I do not know how long it will take to reach the bottom, nor how long it will take to solve the puzzle, so you must have patience.” The two nodded and Logan swam over to the trench, taking a moment to ready himself.

“Lo,” Virgil said. Logan turned, and Roman swore he saw whatever it was die on his tongue. “Nevermind. Just...just be careful.” Logan’s eyes softened.

“Of course.” He turned back to the trench and dove down into the depths.

Five minutes.

Ten.

“Hey, Virge?”

“What?” he sounded bitter. Roman bit his lip, trying to decide how likely it would be for Virgil to punch his teeth out.

“So, I’ve been meaning to ask...are you and Logan dating?”

“WHAT? NO!” Virgil snapped, glaring at Roman as if he had asked if he had committed murder. Roman held up his hands in a peaceful gesture.

“Alright! Sorry for asking!”

“What gave you that idea anyway?” Virgil grumbled, hunching in on himself. Roman looked at him curiously.

“Uh, he seems to flip out whenever I even look at you? Also, whenever you take over carrying me, he tries to convince you not to,” Virgil's face went pink.

“That could be anything. He doesn’t like me like that.” Roman swam closer, Virgil swam back.

“But you like him?” His words were met with silence. Roman sighed, settling down on a rock and patting next to him. Virgil looked at him warily before swimming down and settling next to him.

“Virge. I know it may be hard to see, but I really think he likes you as well. He probably just doesn’t know how to show it. You should try and be bold! Ask him out, y’know?” Roman didn’t know what he was expecting, but for Virgil’s face to darken was not it. He glared at Roman and swam back again.

“You don’t know anything about him! About us!” Virgil hissed, “He doesn't like me. He’ll never like me, and even if he did I wouldn’t want to be his stupid rebound crush.” Virgil’s voice began to grow louder, as if he were spilling what he had kept locked away for a long time.

“I’M NOT A REPLACEMENT! I DESERVE TO BE LOVED TOO! I just-” Virgil’s voice cracked, and his body began to shake. Roman swam closer, slowly opening his arms. Virgil swam forward and buried himself in them. Roman enclosed him in an embrace and ran a hand through his hair, feeling the water around Virgil’s face grow slightly warm with his tears.

“Of course you aren’t, Virge,” Roman murmured, “I’m sorry I pushed you.”

“I just wish he loved me,” Virgil whispered. Roman hummed, staring at the trench as he rocked the sobbing merman comfortingly.

~~~~~

Roman stared at trench, wondering how long it had been. It felt like days to him, but it could have only been a few hours. Roman sighed, looking down at where Virgil had fallen asleep in his lap. After his slight meltdown, Virgil had gotten even more hostile for a short period of time before giving up and just letting Roman in.

Apparently, Logan had a crush on another merman who had recently gotten in a relationship- a fact Logan had confided in Virgil, so Virgil was afraid that even if Logan ended up returning his affections, it would be in an attempt to get over his original feelings. It was a sentiment Roman could certainly relate to on some level, as he had multiple boyfriends throughout his life. Roman sighed, running a soothing hand up and down Virgil’s back.

He considered also taking a nap, despite the fact some dangerous sea creature could come and kill them at any moment when something shot up out of the trench. Roman squawked, falling back and causing Virgil to jolt awake, summoning his sword and positioning himself in front of Roman (which made Roman feel slightly offended. He could take care of himself, thank you very much). The thing turned, eyes wild, and Roman finally recognized him.

“Logan!” Roman laughed in relief. Logan spotted them and swam over, something clenched in his fist. He suddenly flung his arms around Virgil’s shoulders, pulling him close.

“You’re alright,” he mumbled. Virgil looked frozen, turning to Roman for assistance. Roman just shrugged. Logan, apparently coming to his senses, pulled back, holding out his fist and opening it. An old looking key sat in his palm.

“I found the key, as well as our next location. It’s not too terribly far from here.” Virgil still looked to be going into shock, but Roman couldn’t help but let out a giddy laugh.

“We’re so close!” he said, “We’re so close to finding the stupid sword, and then we can finally save Patton!” Virgil managed to shake himself, and turned to Roman, a small smile growing on his lips.

“Damn right we are!” he turned to Logan. “Lead the way then, Lo,” Logan nodded, sharply.

“We are going to save our friend.” Roman grinned.

“Or we’ll die trying!”

General Writing Taglist:  @angeliclogan @pattons-constellations@amuthefunperson @tatergator27@honeycoloredcorduroy@1esor2 @that-royal-ravenclaw@sardonicsanders@iridescentroyalty @sheeparecutest @pathos-logical @virge-of-a-breakdown @doodlesxkiwi

Royality Royalty: @notveryglittery Coral and Crowns Taglist: @impatentpending  @why-things-go-boom @moralitytime @2sporky4you

[lumpy-veev]

Here’s request number two! Kalo babysitting the heroes, and everything going to shit, requested by @prussiastronk​. Sorry this one took so long, I hope you enjoy!

Kalo Babysitting the Heroes

Kalo lazed on the couch with a book in his hand.

The heroes were at school, and he had just finished his latest mission, so he had a rare, quiet moment to himself where nothing was happening and he could just relax.

“Kalo?” said Doctor H, approaching him nervously.

“Hm?” Kalo’s eyes shifted from the pages in his hand to the introvert in front of him.

“I’ve been invited to do a panel for the Universal Inventor’s Convention on another planet,” said Doctor H. “So I’ll be gone for the next week or so. If it’s not too much work, could you take care of the heroes for me?”

“Oh, okay. Sure,” Kalo replied, thinking nothing of it in the moment.

“Thanks! I got contacts and general things-to-dos on the fridge if you need them!”

————————————

The second Kalo and the heroes waved Doctor H. goodbye, the weight of the situation began to settle in.

Kalo panicked a little. Did he even know how babysit them?

Ok, he thought, combing through the situation in his head, I can cook, and I can clean. If they need help with homework, I’m decent at math and stuff. Plus they aren’t actually babies. I’m pretty sure they can take care of themselves well enough…

Huh. Maybe I can do this.

————————————

The day started with a literal bang.

Actually, it was more of thundering BOOM.

Kalo bolted upright in bed. Careful S. threw a worried glance in his direction. He was awake too.

“Do you think it’s an attack?” Kalo whispered.

“D'know,” mumbled Careful S, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Let’s go check,” the two of them slipped out, meeting Careless S, Happy S, and Smart S. outside.

“We gotta see what happened, but be careful,” said Kalo, “It could be anything.”

The others nodded, quietly making their way downstairs. 

“ARE THERE MONSTERS?!” Happy S. leapt ahead, ready for a battle. 

“Happy S, wait-!” Kalo called out. “Huh?”

They were all greeted with the sight of Sweet S, who was coughing in front of the kitchen, which currently had smoke billowing out of it.

It turns out that the loud noise they heard was not a monster, but Sweet S. having an cooking accident. To Kalo’s relief, she escaped unscathed.

“I wanted to make breakfast for you all to save Kalo some work,” she explained sheepishly.

Aww, Kalo smiled a little, his heart warmed at the sentiment.

“I think I left the pan on the stove for too long,” she continued to speak. “But everything blew up when I added the soy-sauce. Maybe I grabbed the wrong bottle…”

“Well, what did you get?” Smart S. asked, slightly intruiged by how Sweet S. managed to blow up the entire kitchen just by grabbing the wrong thing.

“I used this,” she pulled out a slightly charred bottle.

“Hey, I remember! That’s my bottle of gasoline!” Careless S. points out. “But I thought I put it in the fridge?”

“G-Gasoline?!” Sweet S. gasps.

“Nevermind that, how’s the kitchen?” asked Kalo, peeking into the smoking room.

The damage was actually pretty bad. The stove was pretty much gone, and it was at the center of a giant, burnt, black starburst that radiated across the entire kitchen.

The only thing that was still somewhat okay was the fridge, which only had a few scorch marks across the door of it.

At least the fridge’s okay, thought Kalo. I maybe I should call someone to clean this place up.

“Um, Kalo, what’re we gonna have for breakfast?” Happy S. asks, his stomach audibly growling.

“Hmm,” Kalo racked his head for ideas.

“How does take-out sound?” Kalo decided. The heroes chimed back with agreement.

Welp, take-out it is then.

—————————————–

Kalo sighed, strolling through the market.

Sweet S. used everything that was left in the fridge, but of course, the ‘incident’ left eveything burnt and inedible.

So here he was, buying food for dinner.

“Don’t blow the house up while I’m gone!” Kalo had said, but now he was worried that he’d jinxed something.

Dang it, he mentally groaned, it’s only the first day. Am I’m gonna be able to last a week?

Bag of groceries in hand, he began to make his way home. Bright blue flames licked the air around him as he dematerialized into nothing but a blaze of hot blue energy.

Kalo raced home, weaving through buildings and trees, until it thinned out into the familiar desert-like terrain their house was located.

As he got closer, he was relieved to find that the house was still very much intact.

He landed near the entrance and walked in.

“Hey guys, I’m back!” Kalo was greeted to the sight of the five heroes silently sitting on the couch.

They all looked…suspiciously guilty.

Except for Careful S.

He just looked really, really unamused.

Kalo locked eyes with Careful S, and his eyes briefly flicked upwards.

So something happened upstairs, he thought, mentally translating the glance.

“So, did anything happen while I was gone?” Kalo asked, opting not let the rest of them know that he suspected them of anything. He set the groceries on the dinner table.

“No, not at all!” Happy S. grinned nervously, his voice rising an octave higher than normal. The rest of them were trying and failing to seem aloof.

“Really?”

“Yup!”

Kalo raised a brow.

“Alright,” he shrugged. “I’m going upstairs. Tell me if-”

“Wait!” Smart S. yelped. “Do you really need to go upstairs? Maybe you can…uh…dooo something downstairs!”

Careful S. put a hand to his forehead, letting out a small sigh.

The other heroes cringed. They really weren’t good at lying.

Kalo raised a brow.

“I think I’ll go upstairs,” he stepped into the elevator and headed up.

—————————————

The first thing he noticed, was the smell of smoke. It was acrid and metallic.

A bomb.

Then he saw the second floor, or rather, the state it was in.

It looked just like the kitchen, if not worse. The walls were scorched black, and there was a hole in the back of the ceiling.

For a solid minute, Kalo just stood there, trying to wrap his head around what he was seeing.

The heroes came up the elevator right behind him, filing out behind him.

“Uh…we can explain?” Careless S. said timidly.

Kalo pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Please do.”

—————————————

Happy S. slammed his workbook closed.

His homework was finished! Now he could play with the others!

Happy S. raced downstairs. Smart S. and Sweet S. were watching some cheesy soap opera. Careful S. was there too, fiddling with a rubix cube.

“You guys wanna play soccer?” He asked.

“I’m down with that,” Smart S. shrugged. He turned to Sweet S. “Tell me who the murderer is at the end!”

“Mm,” Sweet S. nodded a little, most of her attention still on the screen.

“Hey Careful S, how about you?” Happy S. poked his head. Careful S. sighed and pocketed his rubix cube.

Might as well join. It was easier to give in anyways.

“We should go get Careless S,” said Smart S.

So they made their way upstairs, and Happy S. knocked on his door.

“Careless S.~? Come play soccer with us!”

The door opened with a click, and Careless S. stepped out.

He was holding a bomb.

“Soccer sounds great!” He chirped.

The other heroes gasped and stumbled back. Careless S. blinked, then realized why the others were so startled.

“Ooh, are you guys worried about this? Well, don’t worry, this is an audio-bomb I’ve been working on! It’ll only start if some says 'begin detonation countdown’!” Careless S. stands there, grinning innocently.

The bomb’s timer lit up and began to tick down. The heroes began to panic.

“Turn it off! Turn it off!” Smart S. shrieked.

“Uh, uh, I forgot how!” Careless S. said, his mind pulling a blank. In a panic, he threw the bomb to Smart S, who in turn, threw it to Happy S. like a game of hot potato.

Happy S. attempted to throw the bomb to Careful S, but as soon as the bomb left his hands, Careful S. stepped to the side and teleported away, not wanting to deal with the bomb.

KABOOM

The bomb exploded, blackening the walls and taking out a part of the ceiling with it.

Sweet S. rushed upstairs in a panic.

“Guys, I heard an explosion! Is everyone-?” Sweet S. coughed and waved away the smoke in her face. She froze when she saw the extent of the damage.

For a few seconds, it was just silence.

Then Happy S. spoke up.

“Kalo’s not gonna be happy.”

—————————————-

And he wasn’t.

“I was gone for TWENTY MINUTES.” He’d said, exasperated.

The rest of the day was spent cleaning the upstairs area, redoing the wall paper, and patching the hole in the ceiling.

It was dark out by the time they had completely finished. The upstairs area was pretty much normal once they were done.

Kalo sighed for what seemed like the hundredth time that day.

Well, he thought, at least that’s over with.

Brrrrrring! Brrrrrring!

The phone rattled in its holder.

“Hello?” Kalo picked it Up. It was Doctor H.

“Hey Kalo! So it turns out the convention’s been canceled. Something about an important person being really sick. So I’ll actually be back sometime by tomorrow afternoon,” he said.

“Oh okay!” Kalo replied.

After hanging up, he let out a yawn and headed to bed. He said goodnight to Careful S, tucked himself in, and rolled over.

What a day, Kalo thought. At least I’m not gonna have to deal with a week of this.

Although…

He couldn’t shake the feeling that he had forgotten something.

——————————————-

THE KITCHEN.

Kalo bolted upright in bed, this time not from any loud noise, but from the realization that he would have to practically redo the entire kitchen before Doctor H. came home.

“Careful S, wake up!” Kalo hissed through clenched teeth. Careful S.’s eyes popped open.

“What-?”

“Meet me outside the kitchen, I’m getting the others.”

After rounding up four more sleepy heroes, he began to explain the situation.

“Isn’t Doctor H. coming home five days later?” asked Careful S.

“Well, funny thing is…he’s actually coming home today. This afternoon,” Kalo said sheepishly.

Suddenly, the heroes didn’t seem so sleepy.

Kalo looked at the clock.

8:30 am

They had at least three hours and 30 minutes. Four hours if they were lucky.

“Alright, this isn’t the best situation, but if we buckle down and get to work, we can finish this,” said Kalo. “And don’t worry, I’ll order breakfast.”

———————————————-

Doctor H. stretched when he got off the taxi.

A happy sigh escaped his mouth. It felt good to be home.

He grabbed his luggage, and plodded up the stairs.

“Guys, I’m back!” He called, knocking on the door. Kalo was the one who answered the door.

“Welcome home,” he smiled. Everyone was on the couch, watching TV. It seemed everything was fine.

“I’m gonna go grab something to eat,” Doctor H. passed his luggage off to Kalo, who seemed just a little tenser than before.

He opened the fridge and scanned its contents.

Bread, cheese, ham, hmmmm…I guess I’ll make myself a sandwich.

As he made his meal, he couldn’t help but feel something was off.

“I could’ve sworn the wall paper was a darker shade of yellow.” Doctor H. thought aloud.

…

“Mm. Probably my head messing with me.”

Unbeknownst to Doctor H, Kalo had just doubled over with relief.