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saerins · 4 months

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⋆୨ chapter three ୧˚ for a while, you were all mine

⋆୨ if not for you (masterlist) ⋆୨ previous: chapter two - a million miles away, still you connect me in your way <> next: chapter four - behind a box of reasons why ୧˚

⋆୨ synopsis ୧˚ neither of you want this. both you and sae reluctantly agree to this marriage, although sae’s dissatisfaction far outweighs your own. with hidden agendas and old flames, will this ever work out between the two of you, or will your forced spark be doomed to fail?

ೀ series: sae x f!reader | wc 6.3k | ೀ content warnings: fluff/angst, modern au, arranged marriage, rich!sae and rich!reader, jealousy/paranoia, third parties, yn and sae finally sharing one bed | notes: eeep this was long i’m sorry !! more of the other girl here heh ^_< also mwah thank you to all of you who’s reading ily !! <3

In hindsight, maybe it wasn’t right of you to go through your husband’s stuff. Maybe you should’ve just looked at that little black box and left it there and continue to be ignorant.

But no. In this world, you’re nosy and greedy and you wanted to know who exactly it is that Itoshi Sae of all people can’t get over and now you have exactly what you were looking for.

After extensive research—and by research you mean scrolling through your husband’s social media (all of them), you managed to find her tagged in a post buried way below on his Facebook wall. Silver lining is: there’s nothing recent. The bad part? Judging by the date, they’ve known each other for a long time.

Apparently her name is Mirin, and her family’s made up of a whole slew of top lawyers in the whole of Japan. There’s not a lot on her Facebook, but her Instagram is a whole other story. Her posts the last few years put her somewhere in Europe, and judging by the content, she’s been studying there for a while. But before that, back when the posts were all in Japan, you catch a few photos of Sae. Some of them have Oliver and Eita, and a couple of other guys you haven’t met before.

It’s really wrong of you to do this, only because you know you’re just setting yourself up for a world of paranoia, but you can’t stop. You move over to the pictures she’s tagged in, and there’s one from Oliver that catches your attention.

Because it’s dated a few weeks back.

The first of two photos show Oliver, Eita, Sae and the same guy you saw back in Mirin’s feed—the one with jet black spiky hair. They’re in a bar, you presume, sitting around a private booth with a ton of alcohol in the ice bucket on the table. You recognise his attire; it’s from the very first night Sae bothered to sit down at the dining table and eat with you.

The second makes your heart crash to the floor. In the photo, in Sae’s place is Mirin herself, looking drop-dead gorgeous in a skin-tight red dress that you wouldn’t ever think of wearing. (One, because it’s much too revealing for your own taste, and two, well, just because you’re more of an oversized t-shirt kind of girl.)

All you can take away from what you saw is that Mirin is now back in Japan. Coupled with the fact that Sae had been gone even though he was off from work for those first few days of your marriage, you deduce what you wish isn’t true—was he meeting up with her all this time? Even

Trying to avoid falling into utter madness, you grab your phone and text your ever-trusty best friend.

Reo, meet you at our usual. ASAP!!!

Just as you’re about to leave the house, Sae gets back from wherever he’s been (which now you can’t help but wonder whether he was meeting Mirin), and you run right into his chest.

“Careful, busy?” Sae asks, which is more than Sae usually does and you realise just how low the bar is set right now.

Still, you answer him like you always do. “Yeah I’m gonna meet Reo for a bit,” you tell him, biting back a snarky comment about Mirin.

Even with those doubts of Sae in your head, you can’t help but stop to appreciate how he hands you your keys from the key hanger before you forget, or how his other hand is gripping onto yours, warm and just slightly calloused. It’s the first time you’ve felt them since that day at your own wedding.

“Take your time, I’ll handle our dinner tonight,” he tells you, and you think that’s already a lot considering that he’s never really bothered with anything the past few weeks, but then you feel a soft sensation against your forehead—very brief, so unfamiliar, way too soft—and then it’s gone in just a second and it’s way too quick that it has you doubting its existence at all.

All you hear is a soft “see you” before the door shuts behind you, and then there’s only the erratic beating of your heart that fills your ears.

“Yikes.”

“Very helpful, thanks,” you sigh exasperatedly as you plop down onto the cushioned seat across from Reo.

Reo laughs, handing you your phone back, open to Oliver’s Instagram account. “Then ask for a divorce, I’m sure he’d happily oblige if all of that’s true.”

“You know why I can’t, Reo,” you remind him, close to giving up.

Reo nods, remembering about your parents and deciding not to make matters worse. “Did you ask him about it though?”

You frown, glaring up at your best friend who’s now happily sipping on his cold brew. “And let him guess that I was stalking his ex? Sure I did.”

Reo snorts at your sarcasm. He thinks it’s funny how you’re oddly meek in front of Sae, and yet you’re snappish around him. Comes with the many years of being best friends, he supposes. But on that note, “you think there’s something going on between them?”

For the first time, Reo sees you helpless, eyes staring into nothing, index finger idly tracing circles on the polished wooden surface. “I don’t know,” because all you know is that you’re already exhausted from overthinking all the things they could be doing behind your back. “But… he’s always away and he says it’s work when I know it’s not. And she’s back and they were at the same place and urgh, I don’t know what to do.”

By that last line, you’re already burying your head in your hands, slumped against the table, Reo watching on as you grumble in frustration. He chuckles, gently patting your head before you look up at him, “what if they’re just friends right now?”

“It’s still weird, isn’t it? I mean… from the looks of it, they were pretty serious at one point.” Your words are all muffled because you’re pretty sure this is you being jealous now—thanks to Sae considerably warming up to you (be it at his own sluggish pace), it’s hard not to feel anything for him. In a way, you’re learning to like a lot about him, but there’s this unshakeable doubt you can’t brush off in the form of his ex.

Reo leans back against his chair now, pondering out loud. “Hmm I wonder what that reminds me of.”

In a second, you know all too well what he’s referring to, and you find yourself unable to look him in the eye. “That’s… different. We didn’t act on it.”

He rests his elbow on the table, head resting against his fist, “yeah but… we were still each other’s first kiss, right?”

“But we didn’t amount to anything.”

“Except that we’re best friends now,” Reo tells you, and you know he’s trying to get a point across but you’re not sure you want to understand it.

“And that’s all we ever were, Reo.”

Smiling, Reo leans forward a little, cautious at keeping his voice down. It won’t do if people misunderstand and word gets around. “Listen, I don’t know about you, but you were all I wanted at one point. For more than just that one day under the cherry blossoms, more than that one time I stole your first kiss.”

It stuns you a little to hear it, because any romantic emotions between the two of you were never said or shared. Both you and Reo knew back then that your parents wouldn’t ever be in favour of him and his rebelliousness that you both just decided it wasn’t worth the hassle. At that time, when you were both foolish kids, having that something intangible was enough. Maybe it faded for you faster than it had for Reo, but he knew that it once existed. Even if only for a second.

“And?”

You’ve gone soft now, and Reo knows you understand. You’re just in denial.

“Are you sure Sae would feel the same if he knew about it? If he knew I used to love you too?” Reo asks you, genuinely wondering for himself.

You’re about to argue that Sae doesn’t even care, but putting yourself into his shoes, you get where Reo’s coming from. History is history. No matter how long ago it was or how short the relationship (or lack of one) was, the feelings still existed, once upon a time.

Still, you have a feeling that there’s more than meets the eye. Especially if Sae has to hide it all the time. He’s never even said her name to you, if they met at all.

“Anyway look, do you want me to try asking Oliver about it? I’ll be discreet, though I can’t really say the same for that knucklehead,” Reo warns you. It’s not like he knows Oliver much outside of any business dealings, but he can tell that much at least.

You shake your head anyway, knowing it’s a bad idea. For all you know, Sae would just lash out at you for prying into his business when you’re just his on-paper wife.

“Wonder why they broke up though,” you think out loud, watching the liquid in your cup swish around, close to spilling off the edge as you swirl it with your hand, almost completely lost in thought.

Reo answers you without missing a beat. “She went abroad to study and just called it off thinking it wouldn’t work.” His eyes go wide the moment your head shoots up, and he winces after letting it slip.

“You knew?”

“Yeah…”

“What the- how?” Because it’s incredulous how Reo happens to know that much more about the relationship.

He sighs, fessing up. “I was asking around about Sae remember? When I told you he’s just a tough nut to—”

“Yeah yeah,” you wave it off, wanting him to get to the point.

“Well, Oliver’s kinda a blabbermouth so…” Reo sighs, as if he senses there’s no point in keeping it in, not when you’re already halfway into that rabbit hole yourself.

And you’re all ears. Half because you really just want to learn more about it and the other half just wanting confirmation that you’re not crazy for overthinking about this. But then Reo tells you and you’re not sure anymore.

“He said Sae was never over her, loved her to bits.” Reo pauses, hesitating before he opens his mouth again. “He said Sae was waiting for her to get back before starting things up again.”

Oh.

SEVEN YEARS AGO.

“You’re kidding me, right?”

Surely it wasn’t a stretch to be furious that distance would be enough of a reason for a breakup? Surely Sae didn’t have to think himself crazy for refuting such an idea?

Mirin’s hair flowed in the wind, pretty as it always was, and it would be even prettier in his memories. She looked unsure, and he knew it too. He knew her like the back of his hand, down to the injury on his ankle. She was only doing what she thought was right, and that was offering each of their own freedom, though Sae had no single doubt in his mind that that wasn’t what he wanted.

“Sae, please don’t make this harder than it already is,” she told him, her eyes swimming with tears that she wouldn’t allow to overflow.

Always so stubborn, and forever thinking less of herself. That was how he knew her to be. And as much as he hated that stubbornness at that moment, he loved her just as much.

With a hand reaching out to her, he pulled her to him, letting her rest her head in his chest, something that he savoured because it wouldn’t be long until she’ll be gone for who knows how long.

“Is it selfish of me to say I don’t want to break up with you?” Sae was asking her, genuinely. He didn’t know how to handle this—when life held different paths for two people in love, wasn’t it just common sense that they could still tread it and yet be together? Was long distance really the end of everything they had?

Mirin sniffled just a little before she pulled away and forced herself to smile, something that Sae hated. It was always the fake ones that irked him, even now.

“Is it selfish for me to think that we’re supposed to?”

Maybe he didn’t know the answer. But all he knew was that if she still felt like they should, then he’d concede. He was always weak when it came to her. It was always the same. He couldn’t imagine being weak to anyone else. It was her. Only her.

“Fine, we’ll do that, if that’s what you want,” he told her, a tone so gentle that no one but her has ever heard. But he drew close, tipping her chin up so she would look at him, his teal eyes appreciating every inch of her beautiful face, the most beautiful one he had ever seen, and the most beautiful one he thought he would ever see. “But you know something?”

Mirin swallowed the lump in her throat, the amount of love she felt threatening to swallow her whole. “What?”

Sae let out a deep chuckle, a soft one before he pressed his lips against hers, a promise laid between their lips like it was a secret only they both would keep.

“Nothing would stop me from waiting for you to come back. So come back to me, okay? Come back, I’ll wait for you.”

That night when you get home, you feel just slightly numb. After hearing what you did, it’s no surprise. You’ve always been kind of weak when it comes to feelings. You’re more heart over mind and you’d choose your heart over and over again even if you had no more blood left to bleed.

You think you’re never getting over it until you walk in and realise that Sae’s in the kitchen, setting your dinner down on the table. It’s like your tears automatically dissipate once you look into his eyes.

“Oh, just nice,” is all he mumbles before he sits down at his place on the entirely too-big dining table for the two of you.

Across from him, you sit down as you look at the spread before you. A steak on each of your plates, potato puree at the side. In the middle there’s assorted sides of mushrooms, corn kernels and what you assume to be a tray of sauces for the meat.

“Did you cook all of these?” You ask, almost breathless. You’re about to say he’s a much better cook than you are, until Sae speaks up.

“No.” He seems nearly unwilling to answer you, a delicate frown on his face. “Accidentally burnt the pans when I tried to cook.”

“Huh?” You spin your head around to find the sink filled with all your pans, and from the looks of it, Sae had been trying to scrub the burnt portions off unsuccessfully.

“We need to buy new pans.”

Sae says this all too monotonously, like he’s half-robot and half completely embarrassed, that you can’t help but laugh out loud. Besides, it’s kind of cute that there’s a faint pink on his cheeks. You’ve never seen that before.

He looks at you incredulously, like he wasn’t expecting you to laugh at him like he’s a damn clown. Flinging a mushroom at you with his fork, he rolls his eyes. “Shut up,” he groans.

Pouting at him mockingly, you decide to tease him a little more. “You didn’t touch anything else in the house and ruin them, did you?”

And you were joking, until you realise Sae’s averting his gaze, stuffing his mouth full with corn kernels.

“Sae!”

“We might need to get new stuff for the laundry room too,” he confesses, talking with his mouth full. (Spoiler: you find out later that he put the wrong detergents in the washer and accidentally flooded the laundry room.)

Still, you think it’s sort of endearing that he tried to do the chores while you were the one out for a change, so you stop yourself from making fun of him too much. It’s not like whatever you learned earlier isn’t still sitting in the back of your head (because a part of you wonders if he’s doing all this out of guilt), but some part of you wants to be selfish and let yourself feel special, even if it’s delusional, at least for a little bit.

You want to feel like the wife he misses when you’re not around, like the person he would think of when his mind strays. Is this all too much to ask?

Maybe you just can’t help yourself, so you bring yourself to ask: “Sae, why did you agree to this?”

There’s a pregnant pause in the room, the only sounds filling the silence being the stainless steel cutlery hitting the plates as Sae adjusts himself. “Why did you?”

You suppose that maybe it’ll be easier for him to share if you start first, so you bite the bait. “Long story but… if I don’t then it’ll fall to my sister and she’s happy with someone else.” You swallow the meat in your mouth, the fat rendered so well it makes you crave for more. “I don’t want her to have to sacrifice that. Our parents aren’t exactly the nicest people in the world.”

Sae listens to you, an understanding settling in his chest. He could laugh from the coincidence of it all. “Same, but for my brother,” he tells you, prodding at his steak. “And he’s happy with soccer, not some girl. Can’t get a girl to save his life.”

Somehow, you can hear the quiet fondness that he has for Rin that makes you believe he’s a good brother.

“Would a marriage affect his career all that much?”

There’s a certain complexity behind Sae’s expression when you ask that question, something that you can’t decipher. But he scoffs, “let’s just say, my parents aren’t the nicest people either. I would know.”

And something tells you that it’s not something you want to ask yet, so you let his answer sit with you.

“Oh, speaking of parents,” Sae brings up his phone, switching the subject and handing it over to you. It’s a string of texts between him and his mother, apparently. You hold it up to your face, reading through and it appears they’d gotten you both tickets. “Mine got us both tickets, so.”

As you scroll, a grin appears on your face as you look at him. “Honeymoon tickets to Korea?” You’re almost squealing. It’s been a long while since you’ve last had a vacation, and ten days of distraction sounds really nice after all the information you’d just learned today.

Sae rolls his eyes, though you don’t miss the slight tug upwards at the corner of his lips. “Yeah, so get packing, we leave in two days.”

And as excited as you are, you feel a vibration and the brief flash of ‘dummy’ messaging him, the only part of the preview that you can see being: no, take me with you :(

You’re pretty sure it vibrates some more but by then, you’re already handing the phone back and Sae just locks his phone without bothering. Shaking your head, you try to stuff that image back to the deepest crevices of your mind, determined to not let it ruin your mood for your getaway.

Ex lover or not, Sae is still your husband and it’s not like he hates this (by the looks of things, it’s only been getting better and better), so you’re still hell bent on making things work.

Two days fly by way too quickly.

The day after Sae tells you about the trip, you immediately get to work at packing. Ten days is not a short trip and you plan to make full use of it, and for that, you have to be ready.

You had spent the whole day buying anything you would need—travel-friendly items and whatnot—while commuting back home to your parents’ house (at a timing you know they’re at work, of course!) to take anything you might’ve left there that you needed. Just as you left the house, nostalgia took over as you looked around at the place where you grew up.

It’s strange. People say to cherish what time you have with your parents, that one day you’re going to move out and you’re going to miss it.

You don’t feel like that’s necessarily true, because you’re living proof. The only thing you’d miss is your sister and you still talk to her everyday. Meanwhile, the only times your mother or father ever talks to you is to ask you about your marriage and warning you not to annoy Sae too much, as though it was a given and that it shouldn’t be the other way around.

Maybe it doesn’t make much sense; you and Sae (or maybe just you) trying to be a family when you both have no idea what a proper family is like. Even if it is just on paper.

Now you’re on a town car to the airport and you’re fiddling with your passport in your hands, staring out the window like a little child that’s going overseas for the first time. (Next to you, Sae’s thinking the exact same thing—you do look so much like an excited child. Or maybe a puppy.)

Of course, Sae’s parents waste no expenses in gifting you two first-class seats. Not that you’ve never been in first class, but it’s nice to be next to Sae, and you catch yourself, realising just how quickly you’re catching feelings.

“What?” Sae’s just getting ready to turn his phone to flight-safe mode when he catches you staring, a hint of smugness forming inside of him.

Even with a small partition separating your seats, you can see his teal eyes staring at you, long lashes fluttering in all its glory. Instead of offering an answer, you just shake your head and lean back, busying yourself by adjusting the screen in front of you.

Being in a state of denial is easy; it’s actually fun to sit in first class next to Sae, on a three-hour flight to your honeymoon, annoying him each chance you get, earning yourself a death stare every instant before laughing yourself silly when he flips off at you. It’s been a few weeks, but you think you’ve grown accustomed to what Sae is like that you know his middle fingers to you are never meant to be taken seriously and his silence is just how he is when he isn’t fully opened up. It nearly makes you think you’re crazy for doubting him and yet you don’t have the balls to question him about any of that. Not yet, because you’re not ready for this to end (if it will).

The itinerary had already been planned out by Sae’s mother, but it wasn’t like either of you wanted to follow it. One, Sae likes to do things spontaneously anyway and two, well, you have a feeling that he might want to treat this like a solo trip. It’s not like either of you have properly been husband and wife much to have a proper honeymoon together.

So count you surprised when you suggested that you both try to do solo trips around the city and just meet up for dinner, only to have Sae agree and yet follow you wherever you decide to go that first day.

At first, you were just wondering whether he had the same plans, but after he followed you into a Sephora looking absolutely clueless and then getting all flustered and sticking to you the moment the staff there asked him if he wanted to do a skin test, you allow yourself to think that he’s actually tagging along with you.

“What are you doing?” You decide to ask after exiting another store, carrying no less than five bags thanks to your anxiety of asking Sae what he’s up to.

On his part, he merely shrugs and looks away, hands in his coat pocket, looking absolutely like a model out of a magazine. Sometimes you wonder if he’s really yours. On paper, at least.

“This is our honeymoon, right? Makes sense that we’re together.” That’s all the explanation Sae offers, his gaze hovering over the bags you’re carrying, before he leans closer. “Besides, you’re my wife,” he says, gently grabbing your bags and carrying it for you.

He doesn’t say that it’s just on paper this time. And you can’t help but read into it. It’s perplexing how easily his words can affect you. It has your heart doing somersaults and your lips nervously pursing together.

“So, where next?” He prompts, looking at you expectantly.

And maybe you’re a little too excited for this pleasant turn of events that you’re grinning from ear to ear as you stare at him. “Wait, really?”

You can’t even hide the glee in your voice and Sae, for the first time, smiles—even if he’s doing it as he rolls his eyes at you.

“Yes, stupid,” he tells you, chuckling as you hop slightly in excited. “Are we going or are you just gonna stand here like a little puppy?”

With excited nods and a little squeal, you clap your hands together before daring to put your fingers around his wrist, dragging him with you.

Sae follows quietly behind you, staring at you as you happily tread ahead, your hands warm and guarding his against the slightly chilly air, hair flowing in the wind and he suddenly thinks you’re even prettier than he first thought you were. And then he starts thinking that maybe this part of his life that’s planned by his parents isn’t so bad after all.

Though, when you get back to the hotel, you find out that Sae has already specially asked for two separate beds, to the surprise of all the hotel staff, because of course, Mrs Itoshi had booked the honeymoon suite for the both of you. Special requests for that room usually mean flowers on the bed, or breakfast just the way they like it—not for the groom of all people to be asking for a separate bed altogether, especially when he insists there is no additional person.

“I’ll sleep out here,” Sae tells you the moment you get back to the hotel that night, gesturing to the bed set up by the television, much to your bummer. But you suppose you can’t expect too much—hand holding was already a miracle in itself.

“Oh yeah, sure,” you shrug it off, like it doesn’t even matter. Deep down you feel like a rock was dropped from your throat to the bottom of your stomach, forming a gaping hole in your heart along the way that you tried to will into non-existence.

Still, somehow, despite this little obstacle, you find yourself optimistic after being witness to Sae’s change in demeanour.

“Hey, Y/N?”

When you turn around, you see a hint of hesitation flicker across his teal eyes before he shakes his head, brushing it off.

“It’s nothing, goodnight.”

Although you’re curious, you decide not to press him about it. Offering a small smile, you nod.

“Goodnight, Sae.”

Over the course of your entire honeymoon, you find that you shouldn’t be chiding yourself for being delusional in the first place.

For once in this one-sided love affair, you feel like perhaps it’s not so one-sided at all. Because from what you’ve learned about Sae in your close-to-minimal time together, he isn’t someone that you can force into doing anything he doesn’t want to. At least when it comes to mundane activities which includes trips. (Unless you’re his parents who you have no doubt in your mind probably mirrors your own and have their ways of controlling him, per se.)

But it’s hard to think he doesn’t want to do any of this with you when he’s so compliant. He follows your bucket list of things to do and doesn’t complain once. He lets you drag him to the palace and looks only slightly concerned when you tell him you want to “do the thing where we can dress up like royalty and take pictures” but he only sighs and concedes within seconds.

When he comes out of the room looking like the most handsome prince you’d ever met, you’re too shy to meet his gaze but he tilts your head up to look at him for most of the shots anyway. With his face so close to yours, with these kinds of small gestures which he willingly initiates, you begin to wonder if it’s possible to make him happy in this possibly loveless marriage.

Spending ten days together, surrounded by just each other and doing things that couples do; it nearly makes you feel as if this is real. Like Sae really loves you and that he had asked you to marry him one day out of the blue because of it. Nothing like how you felt that first time you met him, in your dressing room minutes before you were about to become husband and wife, being talked down to and told that this was a facade and could be nothing more.

Now he’s here with you, sticking close and following you around, entertaining your requests for activities, falling asleep on your shoulder when you were on the plane to Jeju, and sometimes he absentmindedly holds your hand like he’s used to it. He helps you with your luggage always, and he makes sure you get food whenever your stomach starts growling, and he’s more observant than you give him credit for because he starts picking the radish off your plate without you asking.

Your album’s suddenly filled with pictures of you and Sae and you were hesitant at first but dragging him to the amusement park when he wasn’t for it at first was a good decision; for a while, you get to see what he’s like when all the downturned lines on his face reverse, when he looks the most like an actual guy in his mid-twenties, enjoying life instead of brooding all the time. Thanks to that, your pictures are more both of you smiling or being goofy together instead of faceless pictures because neither of you feel like showing your faces at all.

By the time your honeymoon is about to come to an end, you find that maybe there’s hope for this after all. That maybe you’d just been overthinking everything prior to this and it shouldn’t be worth worrying over after the trip ends.

But you find that hope can be flimsy sometimes.

On the seventh night there, you and Sae are both on your bed, in the actual bedroom, fighting (not literally) over a multiplayer game. Just two adults hunched over one phone playing frustrating games meant for kids. (Somehow it makes you feel like perhaps neither of you ever had a normal childhood and this is something to make up for it.) It’s all fun and games until you see a throng of message notifications from dummy mixed in with several from what you presume to be Sae’s group chat with the guys.

And you can keep pretending like it doesn’t matter, except Sae immediately stops after the current round and tells you he has to take a call. And you already know more or less who he’s going to talk to. And just like that, you feel like you’re back to square one all over again.

The subsequent nights (and days) aren’t easy for you either. After just giving up on thinking and forcing yourself to sleep that night, you’d been stuck with paranoia everyday. Especially when you realise that he’s starting to take calls every night outside on the balcony where he’s sure you’re out of earshot.

You wonder if he’s being lovey dovey with her outside when he talks to her. You wonder if he imagines you as her when you’re out together. You wonder if he wishes you were her. You wonder if all this is just a gimmick; a test run for when he does the actual things with the actual girl he wants to do them with.

Safe to say, by your last night there, you’re a mess. The moment you get back from trying to be happy all day (which was a disaster because you wouldn’t stop trying to minimise contact with Sae), you tell him you’re too tired and that you’ll just go ahead and go to bed.

Which, of course, is code for ‘you just want to lie in bed and cry all night’.

Sae couldn’t even get a word out before you shut the door on him, plopping down onto the bed and crying into your pillow. Maybe holding everything in was a bad idea. Now you’re bursting with emotions and you try to call Reo a few minutes later but you can’t even get him because he’s busy somehow and you’re positive that the gods hate you right now.

There is one thing about being on rock bottom that you like, though; at least you know how you feel. You’re exhausted and upset and envious because you wish you could be that person for your husband. But you keep getting reminded that you’re not. That somehow you’re just a mere stand-in until he marries his real wife next time. The one he promised to love forever. (Technically, he vowed that to you on your wedding day too, but that’s not the same and you know it.)

Deciding to shut off your phone and have this time to yourself to cry your eyes out, you miss the sudden swarm of notifications that come in. And thanks to you stuffing your head into the pillow, you don’t notice Sae opening the door and peeking inside, an unfamiliar feeling settling inside him at the sound of you sobbing.

He gently closes the door behind him as he walks to you, your back turned to him, your hands and feet hanging onto the bolster like a koala to a branch. Slowly, he saunters over to you, almost like he’s afraid to. When his hand rests on your shoulder and he sinks into the mattress beside you, you stiffen up for just a moment before spinning around and sobbing into his chest instead.

You didn’t expect him to even enter your room at all, much less let you stain his shirt or hold you close when you’re being emotional like this, but he stays there, hand gently rubbing your arm, up and down, a gentle kiss placed on the top of your head. It makes you wonder what kind of games he’s playing. Is this Sae not being able to make up his mind and that’s why he’s still so nice to you even when he has his old flame in the back of his head?

“Do you… want me to leave you alone?” He asks, though you can argue it’s kind of a stupid question but then you realise he probably doesn’t know much about actual relationships so you let it slide.

You shake your head in response, deciding that as stupid as it all sounds, you want to throw your hat in the ring. You’ve fallen for him, and you want him for yourself.

And maybe it’s wrong of you to project this on him, but your absence of a normal family where a home is not just a house and where parents shower their children with actual love and concern makes you yearn for one yourself. And maybe it’s not a great idea to want that from a man you married from being forced to, but thanks to this honeymoon you can see that there’s a flicker of spark there.

That Sae’s not emotionless and he’s definitely not cold to you. Not anymore. That if you guys had been given more time instead of being rushed into things by your parents then maybe the whole wedding could’ve gone without any of the hitches you experienced. That every single radish he picked off your plate, every picture he took with you, every time he held your hand, every time he pulled you close—none of that was manufactured, was it?

So isn’t it possible for you to be happy with him? So is it still foolish or selfish of you to want to be with him?

Is it too much if you ask him about it?

“Hey, Sae?” Your voice is soft and timid and more vulnerable than you’ve ever shown, but he hears you loud and clear, his “hm?” resounding against his chest, right next to your ear. “Can you stay?”

A few seconds of pause, and he replies, “of course.”

You shake your head slightly. “I don’t mean that. I mean, you know, what we said on our wedding day.” Your voice is entirely muffled, still Sae understands.

There’s an even longer pause this time, and you think that Sae’s just thinking of a way to get out of this until you hear him speak up again.

“Idiot,” he chides, but you can hear the soft affection in his voice. Suddenly, you feel his pinky wrapping around your own, and he holds it near your face. “I promise you,” he whispers, and you wish you could see the expression on his face, “I’ll stay.”

It might be wishful thinking but you think he really means it.

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#bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #itoshi sae x reader #sae x reader #bllk x you #bllk x y/n #sae x you #itoshi sae x you #sae x y/n #itoshi sae x y/n #itoshi sae #blue lock #૪ aeri’s fics !

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bronx-bomber87 · 5 months

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Happy Tuesday wonderful Fandom :) Already 5 eps into s4. Insane. Thank you to everyone who liked, commented and reblogged my answer of my top eps meant a lot. 😊 Solid moments in this one just not a ton. This is a Lucy centric ep with one of my all time Lucy moments in it. I’ll let you read so you can find out what that is ha Off we go.

4x05 A.C.H

I love any and all scenes we get with Tamara and Lucy. She’s such a mom to her I can not. They’re sisters but also a massive mom/daughter dynamic in there too. Lucy is making a morning smoothie and asking for blueberries. Tamara checks the fridge finding none. Lucy getting all mom-like on her. Saying she needs to put stuff on the list when she finishes it. Tamara swearing she didn’t eat them.

Lucy doesn't believe her but lets it go. Pick your battles and all that. She gets all excited about dressing up for the West Hollywood parade. Trying to get Tamara excited about it too. Lucy in such a mom mode here. I love it. Tamara is sassy by saying her suggestions suck LOL Their dynamic is so cute I love it so much though.

They get a knock on their door interrupting their convo. It’s one of their neighbors asking if Lucy is a cop? Lucy confirms this and asks what's going on? She continues on and says she lives in 604 across from the lady she’s coming to her about. Apparently ghost hunters are trying to commit elder fraud with her neighbor. Charging her outrageous prices. Lucy handles it like the confident BAMF she is. Directing everyone involved on what to do. Gah I love that we’ve reached this stage with her. I enjoy the growth journey don’t get me wrong, but I also truly enjoy the results too. So nice to see her settled and confident. Handles this rowdy group like a pro. I'm so proud of her.

We join everyone in roll call. A.C.H. Is written on the board. Grey is handing out candy for right answers. He asks Nolan what today is and what that acronym means? He says Halloween and doesn’t know the other half. Still expecting candy... such a putz. Harper replies correctly with ‘Anything Can Happen.’ Lucy asks what kind of crazy stuff might happen? Tim starts running down a list of things. Teenagers trying to steal kids candy, masked people running into liquor stores. Discerning if they’re late for a party or have a gun?

Grey is waiting for Tim to list one more thing. He is pre-smirking and Tim is confused af. Wade elaborates asking Tim how his uniform was torn 3 Halloween’s ago? Lucy looking perplexed as well. Poor Tim looks like he’s reliving something so uncomfortable. Like he’s seen things he shouldn’t have with that LOL

That dead behind the eyes look. Poor love. Lucy’s reaction is the best part. You know she’s enjoying his embarrassment for this. Delighting in it really. For that party it was a fair assumption i’m sure haha I mean look at the man. He’s beautiful and when they got to the yummy muscles underneath i'm sure didn’t help his case. Heh

First off I love this cute moment of them handing out candy together to kiddos. Could they be any cuter doing this? Also you know I love the Tall/Smol shots. Look at the smiles and closeness. My heart. I can just imagine them handing out Halloween candy together now. Most likely at Tim’s house. Since he lives in a neighborhood and being this damn cute about it. Handing out candy and dressing up while doing it. *sigh* A girl can dream eh?

Earlier in the ep before roll call Lucy got a phone call. She found out her mother has paid for her to freeze her eggs….Naturally this is upsetting to Lucy. How could It not be? Minute the kids step away Lucy goes off about it. Tim clearly not excited about this talk LOL I’m dying his reaction is too funny. Lucy is so valid in what she’s feeling though. It’s a pot shot at her. At her insecurities. Straight from her mom.

The way her mother treats her I can totally understand why she feels this way. How it looks is exactly what Lucy is venting about. Makes it seem like her mom is giving her a fail safe in case she never finds someone. Which is so damn rude but in line with her mom as person. Tim is trying to do logic instead of empathy. Thinking it’ll help her but it does not....He is looking at it with analytical eyes instead of empathetic ones. He is playing devil's advocate on this one. Telling Lucy her mom is probably just looking out for her. Knowing how busy she is. When he really shouldn't because it's her mom...

Lucy is so offended by his POV on this. Hating him trying to justify her mother's motives. I think if this was anyone else Lucy might've considered this. But its not...it's her mom who she has a very strained relationship with. Basically trying to plan her life for her. Control some aspect of it since she has no say in Lucy's career. Also let’s also note her touching his arm while berating him LOL. No need for that madam... but she is a moth to the flame in touching him. hehe Can't say I blame her. The sassy banter here is on point as usual though. Her face after Tim says he’s not taking her side. I’m rolling. They could not be more married if they tried.

Tim starts comparing her situation to car insurance and her clock ticking. Oh Timothy no...what are you doing my love? He is so damn insightful with her most of the time. Then is such a man in certain moments like this one. Telling her doing this appointment is just insurance. That you don't get car insurance hoping you get into an accident. The policy is just a waste of money.

That she needs to view this the same way. Might as well have her mom pay for it. Lucy does not let him get away with that though. Saying she's going to pretend he didn't just compare her fertility to a car crash LMAO Seriously the marriage vibes with this scene are off the charts. Their ‘fighting’ always bringing me such joy.

The cuteness continues when a mom comes up asking them to help find her daughter. Her daughter was dressed as Stitch. They both point (in-sync btw) at the table where a kid is wearing that costume. They realize this kid's not her daughter. That the parent must’ve taken her daughter and left his kid. This next part is ovary explosion time for me. *fans self*

Tim coming over all soft asking this kid questions. He’s in dad mode and I’m melting. Look at how soft he is above. Naturally good with kiddos. Despite his wonderful demeanor the kid has no clue how to answer any of Tim questions.... It’s so funny. His answers are so matter of fact. Daddy. Duh. Ha

I love them tag teaming to get this kid to talk. Lucy telling Tim she's got this. (Not really but she sure tries haha) I adore him just letting her step right in. Taking her shot at it. This is a look into them as parents and my heart wants to implode ha How they would talk to their kid. Lucy takes a slightly different approach at it. She fails just as miserably as Tim. It's so funny how they both crash and burn in their tactic's. They could not be any cuter in this scene if they tried.

This is my favorite part of the episode right here. More proof of how far we’ve come with them. This entire scene is a beautiful result of the last 3 seasons. They’re able to locate the missing girl and return Alton home. The guy didn’t even realize he picked up the wrong kid… Lucy stating once they’re back in the shop ‘That poor kid. Imagine having that idiot as a father.’ Tim notes there are a lot worse out there... trust me.

Like a foreshadow to 4x09 and all we learn about his father. Tim knows first hand how much worse a father can be. Hurts my heart for him to think he wouldn’t be a good father. Just because his own was awful coupled with his damaged past. If anything it’ll make him an even better one. Someone who would want to break the toxic cycle of what he grew up with. You can tell Lucy wanted to fight him on the dad comment. That she wants to reassure him he would be a wonderful parent.

She is respectful and doesn’t press the issue. Personal stuff while it’s more common for them now she knows when to press and when not to. This is one she doesn’t push on. Let's Tim just speak his piece on it. What is absolutely wonderful is her follow up question to that. Lucy keeps them in the personal life zone with it. The best part of it is Tim’s answer. He takes a beat and looks at her first before he dives in. He's intensely thinking before presenting his reply.

Look at our boy just being so openly vulnerable and answering her. Very honestly too btw. No push back or him shutting down. Just an honest and vulnerable answer. How far we’ve come I could cry. The amount of trust he has with her. To be this open and vulnerable about Isabel of all people and what their plans were once upon a time. My heart.

Tim spills his guts about where he thought his life would be now. He thought he would have kids already. He and Isabel had all these life plans. 3 kids, watch them grow up and everything that comes with that. Sharing with her what he thought his life would be by now. Willingly just talking about these things with Lucy. It's insane how natural this whole convo is. Lucy absorbing it all as he speaks.

Tim ends it on a sad note of ‘But…’ Lucy finishes it for him. Saying things don’t always work out. Lucy then connects the dots as to why he was playing devils advocate earlier with her appt. She says as such to him. That life doesn't always pan out the way you expect it to. This would be a way to protect against that. It's what he was trying to convey earlier just poorly ha. Difference being this time he was genuine and empathetic. So it gets through better like it always does when he's soft with her. Will say it breaks my heart Tim telling Lucy about his family plans that never happened. Like it's a distant dream he'll never achieve now. The beautiful thing to take away from this is he told her freely. Used it as advice even to bring home his point.

Tim didn’t hesitate to open up when she asked him. Saw it as an opportunity to give her advise on her problem. The growth in this man is incredible. I'm in awe of him. Remember in S1 when personal life was a dirty word? How he instantly would clam up and shut her down immediately? Now we're here. With them talking about wildly personal stuff in the shop. The progress is wonderful. Makes me teary thinking how far they’ve come. How far Tim has come because of that wonderful sunshine woman in his life. How closed off he used to be. Now they’re casually talking about their personal lives. Not only that but Tim sharing his past life goals with Isabel.

They’re making me all emotional lol God I love this ship. Their slow burn is so worth every bit of waiting. Because they got to develop as people and grow. Be the best versions of themselves when they did get together. This scene is a wonder to behold. To see them get to this place from where they started. *heart clutch* S4 is this beautiful payoff of the bond they’ve forged. How they’ve both grown. Hell Lucy driving is driving and it’s not a thing. Just natural. Their progression makes my soul happy and even happier that I get to write about it. This is their last scene together but it's a damn fine note to end on.

Angela comes over to update Lucy and Tamara on the ghost hunter situation. Tells them the creepy history attached to the building. Tamara is sufficiently freaked out. Says they should move haha Lucy tells her ghost's aren't real. Lucy is more worried about the hunters coming back to bother her neighbor. Angela says 99 percent of the time when a close friend or nice neighbor i.e. Lucy report it they go away and don't return.

Lucy then makes a statement that has me wanting to hug her. Saying she hopes she has a caring neighbor like herself when she’s old and alone. (Just wait Lucy we're almost there...sorta ha) Angela asks her if she’s having bad dating week? Lucy laughs tells her no. Then explains what her mother did. Angela tells her to go for it since it costs so much and she doesn't have to pay for it.

Lucy’s line above is everything. I do not blame her. Just be one more thing to hold over Lucy’s head. I know that life well… To Lucy it's just more guilt to have poured on. Something her mother can use against her later on. Better to limit her to the ammo she currently has. Tamara is sweet and says she can adopt if nothing else. Lots of kids who need a home. She’s not wrong. Also her mom must be out of her damn mind if she think's she can be apart of her kids life. She would have to do a complete 180 in how she treats her before that happens.

Lucy and Tamara decide to get ready for the parade. Lucy thanks her for coming with. She comments how cold her bathroom always is. Tamara cracks a joke about it being cause 20 people died in their building LOL Lucy accidentally knocks over some makeup and watches the dust get sucked in behind the mirror. As if there is a draft. They pull it off together and it reveals a giant hole in the wall leading to all sorts of nooks and cranies.

Tamara refuses to let Lucy climb into this creepy hole by herself. I just love their back and forth so much haha Lucy lets her come with. Leads to this creepy hallway where someone has been staying. They find the blueberries Lucy was looking for earlier. It's on this creeps make-shift bed. It’s so eerie. The ‘ghost’ that’s been living in their walls has been eating their food. Entering everyone's apt's at his convenience.

That’s so unnerving tbh. Just coming into their apt whenever for food through the hole. Lucy calls Angela and says it’s not a ghost. Someone has been living in their walls. Tamara walks over and sees a collection of women’s jewelry and bras. Saying she’s getting stalker vibes. They see mail down there too. It’s for the girl that reported the ghost hunters this morning. Margaret in 604.

Lucy hears creaking and wants to investigate it. Angela says she’ll call It in for them. The more they delve into this area the creepier it gets. They find his peep holes too. It’s then in the holes they see Margaret doing laundry alone. The creepy dude comes out of the shadows after her. Lucy calls for her but she doesn't hear her.

Then comes one of my favorite Lucy moments. She finds a weak spot in the wall and goes after the creeper. She handles herself like an absolute bad ass. What a fight sequence with just a broom stick. Tim would be so proud. It’s so impressive to watch her take this guy down. One of the best parts is Tamara gets to see the whole thing. Cheers her on and jumps up and down with Lucy dispatches him. It’s amazing.

We catch them the next morning Lucy in mom mode once again. Default setting with Tamara is you ask me. She is asking her if she slept at all? If she wasn’t feeling safe they could go to a hotel. Then Tamara gives her the best compliment she could. She is a certified bad ass. I would feel safe with her too. I love Tamara getting to see Lucy in action. Seeing what a strong bad ass woman looks like. And it’s her.

They get a knock on the door and it's Angela to update them on the wall guy. This next portion is pretty sweet and funny. Let's them know if they hear anything just the scene being processed. Angela then asks what Lucy wants to do about her appointment? She says she’s going to do at least the consultation. (I think this is partially Tim's influence from their earlier convo in the shop.)

Angela goes off on a rant about how babies don’t sleep for more than 3 hours, can’t tell if they’re smiling or have gas, and they pee on you when you change them. It's true my nephew had a Pee-Pee TeePee LOL But to not to let that dissuade her from motherhood ahhaa. Tamara pulls her leg some and it’s so funny how easily she riles Lucy up. Mom/Daughter vibes in this scene and I love it. Angela gets serious saying Jack best thing ever happened to her. Wishes Lucy the same whenever she’s ready. She will be when it’s her kid with Tim ❤️ I love this season so much. Such goodies almost every single ep.

~~~

Side notes non-Chenford

Did enjoy Pete coming back. Him helping Tim And Nolan with their drug bust of the zombie drug. Also never hate seeing Tim in civvies mmm. That tight sweater and jeans. Glad I had the room for this gif above. To see him in said sexy outfit. Watching him in action and that outfit? Have mercy.

Thank you to those who continually like, comment and reblog these reviews. Makes my heart so happy. I shall see you all in 4x06 :)

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wayfayrr · 1 year

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I can't quite believe this was first in my drafts in feb and I've only gotten to actually writing it these last two weeks.

This fic was based off of five songs from spotify shuffling one of my playlists which was an idea inspired by @trulytiredhermit and then it kinda just went from there

the songs that I based it on were: To my enemies - Saint motel, stalker’s tango - Autoheart, meet me in the woods - Lord Huron, The red means I love you - Madds Buckley and Bitter water by the oh hellos

You know they say you're nobody until someone wants you dead, and I can't help but feel like it's morbidly accurate for everything that's happened to me recently.

That weird shadow brought me here for whatever, most likely because it wants my head for some reason. and then all of a sudden?

I'm one of the most important people to the heroes of Hyrule, brought here by fate for whatever reason and they all love me… although love might not be the best way to describe it. If you were to ask any of them they'd say "It feels so wrong it's right" Heh how ridiculous to be that obsessed, so I ran as far as I could, lost in a world that isn't my own and one that shouldn’t exist out of fiction. Those boys that I once cared for; who promised me they'd find me someway home, but talk is cheap after all and it's oh so effortless to lie when it brings you so many benefits.

The situation was so incredibly strange, I don't think there's any amount of time where I could've gotten used to it despite what they would say. it started, well I can't say normally as nothing about this is normal, but it started well. they were themselves, they were still sane. but then they started to slip letting me out of their sight, less and less and less until it was like I had to be in at least one of their line of sight at all times, they wouldn't let me talk about my home, wouldn't let me focus on things that weren't them always trying to justify it whether it was to me or themselves I could never tell. Perhaps it was both?

This little journey I’ve taken into the unknown?

Oh, I’ll go back changed, I wonder if those I cared about would even recognise me at this point. How long have I been away at this point, it feels like ages yet my phone says it’s only days. Well in the games back home the games always ran on a much faster time scale, it wouldn’t be impossible that I’m still running off of real-world time; if anything it makes more sense with how I’ve not needed to eat or sleep for days on end. I’ve never been away from the links for this long, not since I started travelling with them that is. They’re probably worried sick at this point; it’s probably only a matter of hours until they do manage to find me. Until Wolfie sniffs me out, Sky uses Fi to dowse for my signal, or even Wild traces me with his slate.

“[name]?”

And with that last thought it’s as if I’ve jinxed myself and my hiding spot. The one thing I can be glad for is that it’s Sky who found me, while his anger is terrifying it’s not on the same level as Time, Warrior or Light forbid if Legend was the one to find me. Sky is oh-so-nice compared to them, even if he is a yandere with a strange fascination, a near-obsessive infatuation.

he still treats me like I'm a person though, so there's that. He, I think if I were to end up with any of them it would be him.

"oh by Hylia, [name] are you alright? you've been missing for so long, we thought you were kidnapped, but by the looks of it, you've managed to escape them! even, even if it did leave you hurt"

his smile doesn't look right. he's lying, lying straight to my face...

but it's not like he's lying to me. No, it's like he's trying to convince himself that's what happened. His concern is sweet despite how misplaced it may be; I can't bring myself to break it to him that it's not what happened. Unless...

I couldn't, could I?

oh, but I could.

"link, I- I wasn't kidnapped. I was scared of how the others are acting, I didn't feel safe so- so I ran as far as I could"

This affected me more than I thought, seeing as I could barely finish the sentence without stuttering or coming close to bursting into tears, I hope he reacts the way I want him to and by the look of it, he will.

His face instantly fell when I said that, filled with pity and something else I can't quite put my finger on, the closest thing I can think of is pride but even that doesn't seem right, is, is he smug? Why would he be smug that I’m scared of the others when I…

“Oh my dove, you don't need to be worried now, I'm here. I'm the only one you trust after all; the only one of us you need. you're my betrothed, my one true love until the end of time"

his"betrothed", when did he- how would he- how didn't I realise? Is Skyloftian culture so different to my own? oh, what am I saying of course it's that different. why is he reaching for - the feather? he proposed when he gave me that earring, didn't he?

"I knew I made the right choice when I chose you as mine, we’re perfect for each other can’t you see? And I know I shouldn't love you, I know I shouldn't love you but I do and nothing will separate me from you again as long as I draw breath.”

And isn’t that the truth, that look in his eyes, that stupid lovesick look. I’m not a fool entire for I know exactly what it means. The idea that even if I somehow made it home…

He would find me.

And he would never let go.

How are you even supposed to respond to something like this? This declaration of ownership, that no matter what I do I’m his. To think how I idolised him when he was nothing more than a game character, how naive was I?

Even still I can’t bring myself to hate him, even if he’s a walking red flag. Even if he’s someone I should run from in fear - It’s still Sky, still the only one to welcome me with open arms, the only one to treat me ever so kindly when I was petrified of everything.

Part of me is telling me to leave, to do what's smart and practical. But another part is pulling me towards staying, following my heart even if it means taking a risk. I know I’d have regrets either way for I would be losing something I care for no matter my choice and I’ll need to say something soon to him, even if it’s a lie. I can’t bear to see him so worried, even knowing where that worry is from.

I don't know what the right choice is, but I know that I have to make a decision. And no matter what I choose, I'll have to live with the consequences.

#I got the songs from shuffle in feb????#IT'S MAY??#HOW MUCH TIME HAVE I LOST CAUSE OF COURSEWORK???#yandere linked universe #yandere linked universe x reader #linked universe x reader #link x reader #lu sky #lu sky x reader

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itsallsternutation · 5 months

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Hankies And Spice Make Everything Nice (2/?)

Part one can be found here: https://www.tumblr.com/itsallsternutation/733912856588959744/a-beautiful-blossom-1-original-work-fenby?source=share

Sorry this took a bit. It takes surprisingly long to convert the stuff I write from a doc into the plain text here lol : )

If you liked this, be sure to like, comment, reblog, and all that jazz, and if you really liked it (which I'm guessing at least a few of you do) go tell me about it here on SFF too https://www.sneezefetishforum.com/topic/84545-bernis-burny-nose/

Anyway, without further ado…

Berni's Burny Nose Part 2: Hankies and Spice Make Everything Nice

The rest of the lecture wasn’t particularly eventful. That is, apart from a few more of the sneezes, sniffles, and blows that came from Berni’s poor nose. However, Sam’s big handkerchief and little smile helped her feel just a little better about each.

Sam was really starting to like Berni. She seemed nice and there was just something about her that made them smile. Besides, she seemed like someone who needed a friend and maybe Sam did too. Secretly, Berni was also really starting to like Sam too. Sam didn't know it but they were the first person Berni met who didn’t make her feel terrible about her sneezing. When the professor concluded his lecture and dismissed the class, Sam and Berni left the lecture hall together. However, before they left, Sam made sure to covertly grab a few extra tissues from a nearby box (with where they planned to take Berni, they had a feeling both of them might need a few tissues).

As the two exited the lecture hall, Berni’s tickly nose remembered it was still terribly allergic to ragweed with an intense “eh…EhgTISHEW! HehtCHOO! heugh…ehg-heh…Heeh-HIEH-HetSHOO!” and a congested snort. “Ugh fugk, I’b so sorry,” she said with a groan before blowing her nose.

“For what?” Sam asked inquisitively.

“For…being all snotty and for…egh…igh…gehg..KISHIOU! And for sneezing everywhere,” she explained stuffily.

“Bless you. Are your allergies somehow your fault?”

“Ndo,” Berni replied after a long pause, her stuffiness now reaching new heights due to fresh and extended exposure to the pollen outside.

“Then why apologize?”

“Because I feel bad aboud it…” she answered with another snort.

“You shouldn’t” Sam told her, “I bet all the stuffiness and itchiness make you feel bad enough.”

However, with this, Berni stopped dead in her tracks. When Sam realized she did, Sam stopped and turned around to wait for her. They initially thought Berni stopped because she needed to sneeze or blow her nose, but when they looked at her, they realized she was staring at them and looking freshly miserable.

“Why are…why are you doig thdis?” she asked softly, just above a whisper.

“Doing what?” Sam asked somewhat rhetorically, but also legitimately wanting to know what she felt was wrong.

“Givig mbe your hadkerchief, checkig if I’b okay, takig me to ludnch, blessig mbe…” she listed through the congestion in her nose, “Why are you beig so ndice to mbe even though I’b so igcky?”

“Because we seem like we might have a lot in common and you seemed like you needed someone to be nice to you. I know what that feels like to need that.”

Somewhat shocked and hesitant, Berni began walking with Sam again in silence. There was a long pause between the two before Berni asked, “Where are you eved takig me?” as she wiped her nose with Sam’s hanky, “idt’s not lidke I’ll be able to tasdte anythig with my ndose this blodked and once I startd sneezig again they’re just godda…shidt…AGSHIEW!...godda…ETGSCHEW!...godda tdry tdo CHOO! Hat-TISGHEW! Hik-TCHEW! Ughhhh,” she said with an extra congested groan as her nose became just as snotty and wet on the outside as it was on the inside. “They’re judst goig to kidk me oudt for sneezig all over everythidg.”

“Wow, bless you five times!” Sam interjected somewhat playfully before handing Berni one of the tissues they brought, “have you been around here much?”

Berni blew her nose hard, giving another wet gurgle which transformed into a congested honk before answering, “Ndot really,” in a slightly less congested voice. “My parents brought me here odnce when I was a kid and I rebeber thigkig the cabpus was pretty, thadt’s idt. With all the polled I’b nod sure it's so preddy aymbore.”

“Well, I’m not from around here, but both my parents went to college here and they told me a few stories and brought me on a few tours. I think I might know a place that can get you some of your consonants back.”

“If idt’s a pharmacy thed idt wod’t be mbuch help. I’b already godt some shidty over the coudter mbedicine that dosed’t work, so unless you cad getd me the prescribtion I’ve beed tryig to get forever thed you might as well just take me badk to my dorb.”

“Nope, though I don’t think getting you an appointment with an allergist would be that difficult. I’m just taking you to a place I think might be able to clear you up a little.”

“Where? HEGSHIEW!” Berni asked before sneezing so suddenly and so snottily she was left unable to cover and got just a little bit on Sam’s fall flannel shirt. “Oh mby god. I-I-I’b so so sorry. I-did’t mead to…to...HIGSHEW! HIT-TISHEW!” she stammered in apology. In that moment, she seemed like she was ready to burst into tears, but her tears were of course interrupted by a duplet of sneezes.

Fearing that Berni’s complete absorption in her allergic misery might cause her to fall, Sam quickly outstretched their arm and used it to support her. “It’s okay. I’m okay. It’s all okay,” they reassured her, “Are you okay?”

Berni stopped for a moment and looked up at Sam with a watery, pitiful look in her eyes. Then, she threw her arms around Sam, thrusted herself into their arms, and burst into tears with a weeping “Ndo!”

Taken aback by Berni’s embrace, there was little Sam could do but hug her back and try to comfort her: “What’s wrong Berni? You can tell me. I won’t judge you.”

“I haven’t been healthy in forever! I can’t even remember what it feels like anymore!” Berni moaned, “I h…hehhhh…Eggghhh…Egh-TSHIEW! I hate all my shitty hayfever for making me so gross!” she lamented, carefully directing her sneeze away from Sam’s shirt, but not completely sparing it from her spray, “I hate all the ragweed for making me so allergic TCHEW! I hate all the pollen for making me so itchy ah-ASHEE! I hate all my snot for making everyone hate me HISCH! I hate all my friends for avoiding me because I sneeze all the time AKSHIEW! I hate Japan for making me so sensitive ASHOO! And I hate my parents for taking me there! And most of all, I ESHEW! HATE! KISHA! MY! Ehht-SHIEW! DISGUSTING KASHEW! SNEEZING!”

“I…I am so sorry. I am so sorry that you feel so miserable,” Sam said with tears in their eyes as they hugged Berni tighter. Berni tried to struggle and pull herself away to stop her snot from getting on Sam’s shirt, but they kept their hug strong. “I am so sorry that it has been so hard for you to feel good about anything, and I am so sorry that everyone hates you for something you can’t control.” Sam told Berni, sniffling from their tears as they wiped away Berni’s snot with their sleeve despite her protests. “I would do anything in the world to make you feel better, and that’s why I’m bringing you out here,” Sam continued. “When my Dad went to college here, he would always go with my mom to this dumpling place where they served these spicy dumplings. When they brought me here, I was sick with a cold and so stuffy, but when I had the dumplings, all the spice cleared me up and I felt better, so here’s what we’re gonna do,” they explained. “We’re gonna go to that dumpling restaurant and you and you’re gonna feel a whole lot better. They’re gonna make both of us sneeze a lot, but they’ll do so much to clear you up. I don’t know how long the relief will last, but it’s the least I can do.”

There was a long silence between the two, and Sam was just about to ask Berni if she was okay again before she quietly asked, “Are they good?”

“They’re amazing,” Sam said, finally wiping tears from their own eyes.

Berni slowly broke away from the hug, but she looked like she felt a lot better. “Okay,” she said, her face slowly breaking into a little smile, “let’s go get some.” This was only Sam’s second time seeing Berni’s smile. Maybe if they had seen it in a vacuum, they wouldn’t have appreciated it that much, but they knew enough now to know it was the most beautiful thing in the world. It was a simple smile with a myriad of simple messages like “I feel better”, “I’m not hurting anymore”, and “thank you”. It took Sam a moment to recollect himself after witnessing this thing of beauty, but not too long. After all, they weren’t finished helping her yet. “Okay,” they reassured her, “It should be just around the corner.”

It only took a few more steps before the restaurant came into view. The smell of spices and cooking lingered in the air outside. The restaurant was fairly small, and it was surrounded by a bunch of other restaurants, including a pizza place, a hibachi grill, a poke place, and a coffee shop. There was also a pharmacy at the other side of the block, but Berni said herself that there wasn’t much they could do for her there without a prescription. None of them seemed busy, as these places normally got most of their traction during dinner and on weekends. On top of the restaurant before them, there was a large sign reading “Hot Dumplings!”

“Sign seems a little on the n…neh-neh-NehSHOO!” Berni said before being interrupted by a particularly wet sneeze, “Sorry, I guess the spice is getting to me already.”

“Bless you,” Sam said with a sniff, the spice starting to get to them too, “Why do you feel like you need to apologize whenever you…hih..Hishew! Sneeze?”

“Because I always feel bad about it,” Berni justified before taking out Sam’s hanky to blow her newly leaking nose.

“You shouldn’t,” Sam told her as they reached for the handkerchief Berni had given them. “It’s normal. No one’s a perfect little doll that never does anything gross,” they reasoned as they blew their nose in the cute blue hanky.

“I bet you’re never gross,” Berni remarked as the two walked into the restaurant.

“Hah, believe me, you wouldn’t be saying that if you’ve ever seen me sick. You should see me at the peak of flu season.”

Not wanting to alarm anyone with their sneezes, handkerchiefs, and their discussion of colds and flu, the two decided to drop the subject as they entered the restaurant.

They were the only ones inside, apart from a man behind the register and a cook lurking in the back. “Three dumplings of each kind, water, and a side of white rice please.” Sam ordered.

“I’ll have the same thing he’s…he’s…HEHSHIEW! Heh-ESHIEW! AhtSHIEW!” Berni attempted to order before letting out three extra productive sneezes into Sam’s soiled handkerchief and looking absolutely mortified.

“Uh…please forgive her. It’s allergy season for her and she’s not quite used to the pollen around here yet –ah-Ah-ACHOO!” Sam lied before sneezing into Berni’s handkerchief.

The cashier did not look particularly pleased, but he seemed more eager to get things over with. “Okay. I’m assuming both of you will be having your food to go. Will that be together and will you be paying cash or card?” he asked flatly.

Berni seemed embarrassed, but Sam quickly took control of the situation with a, “Card please,” and quickly removed a debit card from their wallet. It took Berni a moment to realize Sam was about to pay for her meal, but when she did, she quickly rummaged through her bag looking for her own wallet and tried to tell Sam, “Don’t worry. I-I-I can pay for my own food.”

“It’s okay,” Sam reassured, “It’s my treat, remember?”

The cashier only groaned, clearly annoyed both by Sam and Berni’s saccharine display and by what he perceived as their potential to contaminate the restaurant. “Just swipe your card right here, wait way over there, and we’ll get you your food as fast as humanly possible.”

Ignoring this remark, Sam swiped their card, left a particularly large tip to make up for stoking fears of contamination, and gave a warm “thank you.”

“Whatever,” the cashier muttered in response before passing the order sheet back to the employee in the kitchen.”

Sam and Berni both waited at the other side of the restaurant, breathing in the smells of spices in the air and occasionally sneezing, dripping, and blowing into their handkerchiefs. It didn’t take long for their order to come out, and when it did, they quickly took their meals to a picnic table just outside the restaurant. “Wow this is working really well,” Berni told Z through her newly runny nose, “Everything smells so good and I feel so clear. And we haven’t even…Het-TISHOO! We haven’t even eaten anything.”

“You haven’t seen anything yet. Hih-Ishoo!” Sam said with a particularly runny sneeze.

The two sat down, opened their to-go containers, and began to dig in. The dumplings were just as wonderful as Sam remembered and Berni seemed to love them, but it wasn’t long before the sneezing started. Fortunately, both had their handkerchiefs and some tissues ready to nurse their noses.

The two were about halfway between their meals, both sneezing up a storm and blowing their noses before Berni tried to say something: “These are so…heh..these are so good AGSHOO! HIESHOO! ESHOO! ATCHEW! They’re really good at clearing up my nose too. Thank you so much.”

“No pro..pro…Choo! Hachew! Hishoo! Achew Hi-CHEW!” Sam replied.

“Don’t worry, you don’t need to finish that. Bless you sweetie. And, I guess bless you for the couple thousand times before that,” Berni replied with a giggle and a “HEESHOO!”

“Whooh, excuse me.” Sam said as they wiped their nose with Berni’s blue hanky. “Hey, not only do you not sound congested anymore, but you didn’t apologize for being sneezy!”

Berni immediately blushed with embarrassment on top of her allergies, and covered her face in her hands, but Sam tried to reassure her: “No no no, that’s good. It means you’re not feeling as self conscious as you were before. Etchoo!” they explained, “you even blessed me and joked about my sneezing.”

Berni slowly brought her hands down from her still-flushed face before quietly saying “I didn’t mean to…”

“No no, Ashew!” Sam interrupted, “it means you’re not feeling as nervous and self-conscious about it. That’s good.”

Berni seemed too shocked to know how to respond, so she did so with a simple “umm…bless you,” before turning back to her food. Both Sam and Berni then focused most of their attention on finishing their meals, each letting out a few drippy, wet sneezes every few bites, before Berni broke the silence again towards the end of her meal:

“What do you even like about my sneezes? Yours are so much quieter and cuter. Mine are always so icky and loud and snotty HIEH-TSHIEW! Wow, that was a strong one.”

“I like them for the same reason I like snowflakes” Sam explained, “Even though each one is less than a second, each is its own unique little work of art. Besides, I like how strong and forceful they are. Each one shows how sensitive, passionate, and unique you are.”

“By ‘passionate’ and 'sensitive', do you mean ‘allergic’? AKSHOO!” Berni asked. “You must want to be an English major or something.”

“That I do. My main plan is to get my degree, become a travel writer after college so that I can travel the world and get some writing experience at the same time, then either write the great American novel or get picked up by some big studio or publisher or something.” Sam recounted

“That’s cool. I don’t really like traveling that much because it messes with my allergies, but it’s good you can make it part of your job,” Berni told Sam, “My parents both wanted me to go here so I can go to medical school, but I’ve always been really good at programming, I even won some prizes for it back when I was in high school. If I can get my allergies under control and get a coding job that I can work remotely for, then maybe I’ll try to give traveling another chance.”

By this point, the two had finished their dumplings and their sneezing was starting to die down, so Sam decided to start cleaning up: “Well Berni, it was wonderful to meet you and I had a really nice time, but I think both of us should start heading back to the dorms and preparing for our next classes, especially before your nose starts getting stuffed up again.”

“Okay, but can you walk me back to my dorm before we say goodbye?” Berni asked, showing Sam her cute little smile. Unable to refuse Berni, Sam obliged. The two cleaned up, threw away their trash, and began their walk back to Berni’s dorm. As they began their walk, both Berni and Sam sneezed often, still recovering from the spice, but by the end of their walk, their sneezing had been replaced by animated conversation.

“...So you’ve lived here in the South your whole life?” Sam asked.

“Yep. In a smaller town about an hour southeast of here,” Berni replied.

“Have you ever visited Japan?”

“I...I don’t really want to talk about Japan. Um…where are you from? I don’t think I ever asked you.”

“Oh, I’m one of “day-um yankees” that burned this place down a hundred and fifty years ago?”

“Ooh, what part of the north are you from? Are you from New York?”

“What, you think every Jewish guy is from New York?”

“What?...n-n-no I-”

“Relax, I’m just messing with you. My family’s from Boston.”

“Oh, cool. I played Fallout 4 a bunch, so I know a little bit about what Boston looks like,” Berni explained, “Why aren’t you going to learn writing at an Ivy League or something? If you got into here you could definitely get into them, and I bet they have way better departments.”

“Eh, my parents tried to sell me on the fancy New England schools, but they just weren’t for me. They were all too stuck up and pretentious. I like it here better. Everyone’s smart here, but no one’s an ass about it. Besides, this is one of the “Ivy Leagues of the South”, so maybe I am at an Ivy League,” Sam mused.

“Aww, that’s so sweet,” Berni said, “How many times did you rehearse that?”

“Eh, I had to give a similar spiel to all my Uncles and Aunts about why I didn’t want to go where they went. I’m glad you liked it, because they sure didn’t…” Sam and Berni had become fast friends like it was nothing. Pretty soon, the two had arrived at Berni’s dorm, which Sam noted just so happened to be a few floors up from theirs. They were ready to leave and say goodbye, but just before they did, they realized there was still one last thing they needed to do: “Oh, I almost forgot, here’s your hanky back. Sorry I used a little bit. You’ll have to tell me where you got it sometime because I swear this thing is so damn cute. I’m gonna order like five of them for myself,” they said as they offered Berni the handkerchief she had given them.

“Oh no, you can keep it. I’ve got plenty,” Berni told them. “Do you mind if I keep yours though? It’s got all my snot on it, but I love how big it is. It’s perfect for my big sneezes and blows.”

“Of course,” Sam said, “maybe we can swap more hankies some time.”

“You know what, before you go, I’ve got plenty of time left before my next class. Do you wanna see my hanky collection in my dorm room?” Berni asked.

“Of course,” Sam replied.

Berni removed the key to her dorm from her pocket as she dabbed her nose with her new (albeit now quite grubby) hanky. Unfortunately, she then opened the dorm to reveal it was not as empty as either assumed. Inside was a tall, lanky, redheaded girl rummaging through a dresser whom Sam immediately recognized as Lottie.

Berni was visibly startled by Lottie’s unexpected presence in the room. She immediately moved to try to hide her handkerchief, but Lottie turned around before she could hide it. However, when Lottie turned around, it was not Berni she addressed, but Sam, “Oh, hi Sam, it’s good to see you again,” she said flirtatiously, “I see you’ve already met my roommate…”

“Hi Lottie. Turns out that me and Berni sit next to each other in Latin. I thought the lecture was honestly really boring, but I sat next to Berni and she helped keep me awake through it, so we went to go get some lunch together,” Sam explained as Berni began to frantically wipe her dripping nose with her handkerchief.

“Oh, great,” Lottie said with positivity quickly fading from her voice. “Ew, gross. Where did you get that thing? It looks like a napkin you took out of a restaurant and contaminated with all your wet goop.” Clearly deeply shaken by Lottie’s insults to Sam’s handkerchief, Berni tried to step back behind Sam to hide, but her hiding place was given away by a pair of hastily muffled

“Hrppshh! Hmpffshh!”’s

“Oh, great, now you’re sneezing everywhere. Way to kill a girl’s appetite before lunch Miss Snot Factory.”

“Hey, she has allergies. Allergies suck. She can’t just not be allergic.” Sam told Lottie.

“Yeah, but the least she can do is try to hold it in or take it somewhere else?”

“Hold it in? She can’t hold it in! And where else would she take it? This is her dorm room.”

“What’s a cute boy like you doing with her,” Lottie said, changing the subject as she moved uncomfortably close to Sam.

“Lottie, they’re non-binary,” Berni said through her handkerchief.

“No, it’s okay. I’m okay with boy,” Sam reassured, “But to you Lottie, I’d prefer to just be Sam.”

There was a long uncomfortable silence before Lottie picked up her backpack, slung it over her shoulder, exited the dorm room with a nonchalant, “Okay,” and slammed the door.

“I…I’m sorry for that,” Berni told Sam.

“For what?”

“She’s just been like that to me since I got here. Never to anyone else. Just…to me,” Berni explained dejectedly.

There was a long pause before Sam told her “You’ve dealt with enough for today. How about you show me your hanky collection.”

“Okay,” Berni said, becoming noticeably happier and giving Sam another momentary glimpse of her wonderful smile.

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lycanlovingvampyre · 1 year

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MAG 191 Relisten

Activity on my first listen: mowing the lawn.

Does anyone understand what Martin is mumbling in his sleep? I've listened to this part so many times now, I feel like I'm at work...

MARTIN: "You were sleeping with your eyes open again." You know who else sleeps with their eyes open? Cats! Jon is a cat, confirmed!

JON: "What was I like at Salesa’s?" MARTIN: "Oh, you’d just completely conk out. Eyes open, obviously, cos god forbid the creepy ever stops entirely, heh, but –" JON: "Thank you." MARTIN: "– you’d just be dead to the world. I actually got a bit worried, once or twice, but you always woke up fine. You said you didn’t dream. Sounded pretty happy about it too." Aww, finally some fluffy fan service again! That "Thank you", so amused, so fond!

MARTIN: "Hey, I meant to ask. Do you recognise that woman, Celia?" Hehe, Martin already reacted to her name last episode^^ Lynne Hammond is her pre-Change name.

UNNAMED: "Names are how they see you; they’re how they find you in the files. You can hide all you want, but if they know your name, they can see you. And take you away." Oh, that sounds like some conspiracy bullshit...

I feel Jon so much, I also can't shut up if I hear someone obviously getting things wrong...

MARTIN: "Do you need to make a statement?" JON: "Actually no. I haven’t since we got down here. I suppose it must be the tunnels. Nice to be a bit more in control, although it does feel… odd." That's so good to hear, Jon enjoying just being Jon.

ARUN: "You don’t believe in them, do you? In their power?" OMG, the way he taunts Martin!!! I really can’t with religious fanatics..

I'm with the tape recorder/Web on this one. I think it was very important to record Martin and Arun fighting xD

JON: "I don’t know. I know how Georgie gets about people in her care. If she thinks helping us will endanger them…" That... is really sad to hear. Those are random people Georgie has known for, what, half a year tops? Georgie and Jon used to date. Even if they got into a bad fight when they parted, there has been affection there once. They seemed like halfway decent friend when Jon lived at her place... And these people are now more important to her than Jon? And later it is actually Melanie suggesting to help them in their cause..

JON: "If, however, we find a way to somehow destroy or, uh, eliminate the powers… I’m not going to be okay. There’s too much of me that’s part of The Eye now. I don’t… know what would be left of me without it. Maybe I just die. Maybe I survive, but I lose… something. My identity. My mind. My… memories. I don’t know." We hear later from Annabelle that Jon would survive this and stay more or less the person he thinks himself to be (whatever that means), and I kind of can see that this works... Right now, the Fears exist, the Eye takes up a big part of Jon, and while the Fears exist in this world, in general even if blocked out - sometimes more, sometimes less - that part becomes hollow and can't keep Jon structurally upright and he threatens to collapse. But if the Fears completely vanish, that void goes with them and the empty space can be filled with Jon again and support is once again given. (Also yeah, the tragedy part, he could have been okay and so forth...)

JON: "Martin, when the time comes, I need you to promise me that you won’t try to stop me." MARTIN: "I promise. I love you, Jon." JON: "I love you too." MARTIN: "But I’m not going to doom the world over it." This is super important! I mean, Jon will bring it up again, when the time comes, but this is the origin of their promises and how each of them will think the other one didn't keep his.

MARTIN: "And you have to promise me you’re going to do everything in your power to live. That you’re not going to sacrifice yourself at the first opportunity, just because you feel guilty about what happened" JON: "… I promise." Both of them don't really believe it will come to it, that's why they promise. Martin is so sure, that there is another way and that he never gets in the situation of having to let Jon go. And Jon thinks, in his infinite knowledge, that there's no way this could possibly end good for him..

GEORGIE: "And it’s not like the tunnels have gotten any safer with them hanging around." Wow... How she emphasises "them"... Another thing to throw on the I-don't-like-Georgie pile...

MELANIE: "It feels crap, you know, just doing nothing." GEORGIE: "We’re surviving. And trying to help others do the same. That’s not nothing." I mean on the scale of "trying to save the world" and "doing nothing" that's pretty far on the "doing nothing" side... And this will be Georgie's suggestion in MAG 199...

MELANIE: "and I’m sick of people acting like I should feel so super-sympathetic towards him, just because he’s had a rough time of it. I’ve had a rough time of it from the second I met him!" You can have had a rough time yourself and still show empathy...? This isn't a competition. I get not liking people, you don't have to like everyone, that's simply not possibly. But a bit of empathy for others also isn't like the hardest thing in the world...

Bit sad that Melanie ended up still hating Jon. I felt like she did have character progression at the end of S4. What happened to "He's welcome as a friend"?

GEORGIE: "Well, we’re not going up the tower, but… yeah. I want my cat back." Finally something we can agree on!

Oh and just last episode I was wondering if the recorders ever clicked on themselves without either Jon or Martin being present? Well, at least after the change I can say they do! xD

@a-mag-a-day

#a-mag-a-day #mag 191 #tma #tma spoilers

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whumble-beeee · 8 months

Text

Whumptember 2023, Day 11

“There’s nothing else I can do”

Last resort | Character death | Medical whump

The Bee’s Whumptember Masterlist

~1490 words

CW: probably wrong medical procedure based on my own limited medical training and experience, wishing for death, blood, implied knife wounds, technical medical talk, mentioned past torture, brainwashed whumpee, medical malpractice (but the good kind ig?), needles

(Continued from Day 10: What Are You Doing To Them. Turns out Detective does save Whumpee after all. kinda. heh.)

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

Where… where was Whumpee? This was all much too white, much too bright. New noises pounded on their eardrums. Weren’t they supposed to be dead? Hanging limply by their wrists, crimson red blotting out their dark flesh so that it was practically a second skin? So good and pretty for Whumper, because they couldn’t struggle anymore and couldn’t be entertaining anymore, so dead was the only way Whumpee could make Whumper happy? They were supposed to be dead. They wanted to be. That was the only way they could be useful now.

Something was poking and prodding at them. Multiple somethings, multiple someones. Whumpee shifted uncomfortably and tried to move away, only to find they couldn’t. Straps. They were strapped to a bed, and the bed was jostling around. Nothing too out of the ordinary. Every slight movement exacerbated their dizziness.

Had Whumper decided to keep them alive after all? Maybe this was just some new form of torture. That must be why Whumper put some sort of face mask on them. Poison, maybe. Whumpee would gladly take it. Even if their wounds made them so, so weak, even if the bright lights made them want to scream, even if they could barely feel what was happening to their body, even if the flurry of movement around them confused them, especially the agonizing poking and prodding.

Even if some dark horrible part of their heart fluttered because maybe, just maybe, Whumpee was being saved. If only… No, no, Whumpee didn’t want to be saved. Whumpee wanted to please Whumper and be good for them. That was their only job in life.

Was Whumper even here? They usually liked to talk while torturing Whumpee.

No, Whumpee was good. Whatever Whumper wanted, Whumpee would do, even if this wasn’t their usual style. They would take it because they had to, and they wanted to. They wanted to. They would always take it, always, always, always, always, always…

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

Detective frantically patted Whumpee’s cheek, and their eyelids twitched open again. Barely. One of the EMTs shoved Detective out of the way with an understandably authoritative “Move,” and got to work wiping off a staggering amount of crimson just from the crook of Whumpee’s elbow. They quickly placed and taped down the IV before readjusting the oxygen mask on Whumpee’s face for the third time, as the other EMT worked on staunching the blood endlessly gushing from the various gaping gashes and stab wounds all over their body.

“They’re losing too much blood, tourniquet and elevate the limbs more and focus on stitching and pressure on the torso and head.”

Detective leaned back into the corner as much as they could. They almost wished they hadn’t climbed into the ambulance. They almost wished they’d listened as the personnel yelled at them to get out, before Detective’s determined glare and crossed arms made them decide it wasn’t worth trying to force Detective out when time was already a very precious and very quickly dwindling resource. Almost.

They smiled to themself, despite everything. If nothing else, even if Whumpee didn’t end up pulling through, at least they had made that sick sadist pay. A mist of red spraying to the walls. A second bullet. That was all Detective could have wanted.

Whumpee shuddered on the gurney, momentarily thrashing under their restraints before falling still again.

“Don’t they need blood?” Detective called, jarred out of their thoughts. They started taking a mental tally of all visible wounds again. “They lost so much, and we don’t even know–”

“Yes, they do,” EMT1 interrupted, not looking up from their tourniquet. “We don’t have any, they’ll get it at the hospital.”

Detective sputtered. “They’re not gonna make it to the hospital! We’re in the middle of nowhere, it’s gonna take–”

“Look,” EMT1 spun on Detective. “We can’t do anything about it, or else we would! Now stay out of the way or I’ll have you thrown out of the damn vehicle.”

They harshly tied off the tourniquet and moved to the next one. Then their face softened again. Just slightly. “We want them alive just as much as you...”

“I’m a universal donor!” Detective pleaded. “O negative! Take my blood!”

EMT1 paused and stared at Detective before remembering themself, shaking their head out and continuing to fuss over a particularly nasty gash. “Absolutely not, we can’t know that for sure, we can't test it, not to mention the malpractice suit alone would–”

“Shit!” The other EMT called suddenly. “Heart stopped beating, beginning compressions! Two, three, four…” They started pushing into Whumpee's chest before they even fully finished the sentence. The one chewing Detective out dashed to grab the AED machine, slammimg the two pads onto Whumpee’s chest around their partner's working hands, before rushing to the side of Whumpee’s head, tipping their head up and preparing to give life-saving breaths.

“Hey!” EMT1 yelled out to Detectives. “Come here and work the AED, it’ll prompt you on everything you need to do–” EMT2 finished their thirty compressions, and EMT1 stopped their orders to give two full breaths into the mask. Whumpee’s chest rose and fell with each breath before falling still again. EMT2 continued their compressions. EMT1 dashed across the cabin to press on the wounds again. ”--and make sure to yell ‘clear’ when it’s scanning AND when a shock is advised and then press the button–”

“They’re back!” EMT2 yelled again, ear pressed closely to Whumpee’s mouth and two fingers on the carotid artery. “Pulse weak as measured at the beginning, breathing normal. Continue as we were, and pay close attention to vitals!”

EMT1 froze, chest heaving shakily. “Okay, okay, nevermind, uh, go back to the corner…”

“Please, I’m O negative, I can help,” Detective begged. “They’re not gonna make it–”

EMT1 reeled on them, eyes fiery and wet, practically shaking, holding tense hands in front of themself placatingly as if they wanted nothing more than to grab Detective by the throat and hurl them out of the ambulance.

“We cannot give an emergency blood transfusion with your blood!” they yelled, breath ragged, whipping their hand up to silence Detectives protests. “We can’t verify the blood type, and if you’re wrong, they will die, and that’s not even touching on the amount of malpractice I’d be committing. There’s nothing I can do to–”

“Oh, lay off and just do it,” EMT2 called out from the other side of the gurney, pressing a cloth into Whumpee’s stomach wounds. “Guy’s a detective, they know their blood type, and you and I both know that the patient’s heart still somehow beating is one in a billion.”

They reached across Whumpee to grab their partner's arms and press them down onto the cloth so they could grab something from the cabinets, snapping at Detective to do the same, and Detective fell in right next to EMT1.

“We’re also what, twenty minutes away from the hospital? The will of God themself couldn’t keep this patient alive for that long without a transfusion.” They nodded to the blood still steadily pooling onto the floor, covering all their shoes in a dark crimson, soaking through the bottoms of their pants with a morbid stickiness.

EMT1 stared at Whumpee, searching over their frail frame as if the answers to their life were going to be etched onto Whumpee’s skin. Only different etchings, cuts, and deep purple and black bruises could be found, standing out brilliantly against Whumpee’s practically gray skin. They turned their eyes desperately to their partner, then Detective, then their partner again. “Do it. I’ll continue care until blood can be administered. If this doesn’t work, it's on your ass.”

“Always is,” EMT2 muttered with a jarring laugh. They beckoned Detective over as their partner worked in a flurry behind them, quickly tying a tight rubber tourniquet around Detective’s upper arm. “Try to keep still, lean on the wall. Get some water from the sink, too. You’re absolutely sure you’re a universal donor?”

EMT2 grabbed them by the elbow and shoved the needle into the vein without waiting for a response. Detective swallowed. “I’ve done this before. Never been more sure in my life.”

EMT2 nodded as they finished, rushing away to help with Whumpee again just as thick blood suctioned up through the thin tube and into the waiting blood bag. Detective was already starting to feel a bit woozy. Great time to remember their fear of needles.

They forced their gaze away from the slowly filling bag, over to Whumpee lying half dead on the gurney with the EMTs rushing around them, patching them up with practiced precision. They watched with baited breath each time their chest rose and fell, hoping the next one wouldn’t be their last. Up, down, up, down. Don’t pass out. Then back to the blood draw kit, sucking out the lifesaving liquid from Detective so it could continue its journey in Whumpee.

God, this had better work.

@whumptember

#whumptember2023 #whumptember day 11 #day eleven: theres nothing i can do #day eleven: medical whump #day eleven: last resort #whump #whumpee #caretaker #whump writing #writeblr #“but bee you didnt like day ten!”#“why are you writing a part two?”#turns out i like writing about detective and them emts because its a lot more action or something like that lol #something about completely conditioned and trained whumpees just doesn't hit the spot for me #also i am cpr certifiead and a lifeguard #so at least the crp portion should be medically correct #at least at the time of posting #the rest tho idk

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illogicallyx · 7 months

Note

Ok ok ok so I’ll just talk jjk rn because heh why not. So like, Satoru and Suguru are the main main guys- and even b/w these, Suguru stands undefeated lmao. The rest like idk I can think of issues so I just stick to one guy— (ok I imagine a poly between us ok?)

So yes, suguru: we have the academic rival trope for sure—with the “smart ass x dumb ass” thing going except we switch the tags every few few minutes<3 loook suguru def did not like me initially, and vice versa because I found him too stoic and he found me obnoxious BUT the mutual admiration? Yes. Also like between the two of us, he is more mature emotionally so it’s mainly him opening up first—and all that and I’m more friendly to people so I help him socialise and whatever lmao—you can call it golden retriever x black cat energy lmao. Also hcs:- we spend nights where I ramble to him about space and maths until either of us falls asleep or he tells me history facts or psychology facts in the lazy mid-afternoon cuddle sessions until we’re all warm and cozy.

Ok I tried my best of writing someone here but I have nobody💀 so honourable mentions to Megumi and Nanami here lmao. Hand obviously Satoru. I just myself very platonic with everyone else yk?

So I’ll just say Chuuya because lolz: now idk if there is any trope that goes “boss x secretary” frfr but yes. I don’t see it working out anyway else because Chuuya is too hot headed to listen to my bs otherwise. Also also we’re just like two bastards who become bigger jerks when together<3 and I’m taller than Chuuya so<3333 he loves his tall gf fr. And like Chuuya and I support each other no matter what. Like even if the other is in wrong? Shut up, they’re right because I said so. We both help each other maintain stability towards each other tbh and like, a sense of routine and familiarity— and love buying each other gifts. Just like thrive off of that and yes. Small hc again because lol: he loves when I bake for him or better teach him, lke just gets that feel—and so to make up for it he teaches me how to ride his bike

I was gonna do hawks but I’ll keep it short and sweet lmao

please i love the way you have a whole ass backstoriesss <33 if i try to imagine a backstory i will be forced to write a fanfic out of it i have no self control.

also bae should i get into bsd 😭😭im traumatised is it like jjk???? i recently saw that dazai is dead GOJO DEAD DAZAI DEAD what is there left to live for 😞😞

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benbamboozled · 1 year

Text

BENBAMBOOZLED’S JASON TODD (mostly smutty) ONE-SHOT REC LIST EXTRAVAGANZA!!!

Omg I actually did it!

As per a request from @disniq that actually was an ask that I will put up when this is posted—my rec list of (mostly) smutty one-shots that is NOTICEABLY LONGER than my other fic rec list, heh.

So, before I get into it—cards on the table…

In the interest of limiting any possible controversy—because I’m just here to have a good time—my personal parameters as I went through all of my fave Jason Todd fics to create this particular rec list were:

-No Batcest (or whatever I think counts these days…I honestly can’t keep up and I don’t care to.)

-No noncon (however you can pry dubcon from my cold dead hands)

-No underage (whiiiich p. much takes out all my Robins-as-Robin recs)

-Nothing that I will personally define as “really weird” (and you can just use your imagination there)

Please keep in mind that a whole lotta good fic and a lot of my faves had to be left off of this particular rec list due to those parameters.

Okay, so…what’s left, HA! Welp, that’s what I’ve cobbled together here! There are a few non-smutty ones sprinkled in because I just liked them, but for the most part these are…yeah, they’re smut.

MIND THE TAGS. I know you all get that, but I still need to put up the disclaimer.

If you like any of these, pleeeease drop a comment on the fic! Doesnt matter if it seems like the author might not be in the fandom anymore—it’s still nice to see your work was enjoyed by someone! (I got a really nice comment a few months ago on a one-shot I wrote MORE THAN A DECADE AGO and it made my friggin year.)

(And if you don’t like ‘em…that’s fine but you’re wrong…but it’s fine…but you’re wrong.)

NOW…without further ado…your rec list!

A Stitch In Time

—BearlyWriting

—Rated E

—Jason Todd/Clark Kent

—Summary (abridged): “Jason is dying again, his throat slit open by the man who’s supposed to be his father. This time, lying in the rubble of an explosion, he calls Superman instead.”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33371341

these games we play

—forestgreen

—Rated E

—Apollo/Midnighter/Jason Todd/Slade Wilson, Jason Todd/Slade Wilson, Jason Todd/Midnighter, Jason Todd/Apollo

—Summary: “Something warm unfurls inside of Jason. It takes him a moment to realize what it is: trust.”

(OKAY MIND THE TAGS ON THIS ONE. Like, all of the recs, obviously, but ESPECIALLY this one.)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/41939268

replace the feathers in our vests

—Gen

—likewinning

—Summary: “Bruce Wayne was actually a crimelord; the Robins were all boys who met on the street and were adopted as his ‘sons’; finally, Dick grabs his little brothers and runs. Written for Comment Fic.”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/3239156

funambulism

—mici (nobarlembeat)

—Rated T

—Technically tagged as JayDick BUT Dick is Renegade and there’s not a whole lot of shippiness in it so I’m adding it.

—Summary: “Talia has one last teacher before she funds Jason to return to Gotham, and that teacher has only one thing to teach him.

Or that's what Jason thinks.”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28230840

catch a tiger by the

—mici (noharlembeat)

—Rated E

—Ra’s al Ghul/Jason Todd, Tiger King of Kandahar/Jason Todd, Tiger King of Kandahar/Jason Todd/Ra’s Al Ghul

—Summary: “It begins with a shadow and a stalking; it ends with an offer to become a triple-agent.

Or: Tiger meets an infuriating assassin, who offers him an infuriating deal. He wouldn't be so infuriating if his mouth wasn't so pretty.”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31404734?view_adult=true

there’s something better wrong with you

—noctiphany

—Rated E

—Jason Todd/Midnighter (Jaynighter? Hoodnighter?)

—Summary: “Why are the tragic ones always so fucking pretty?”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/6148897

Seeds of Redemption

—Scandalsavage

—Rated E

—Arkham-verse, Jay/Bane

—Summary: “After Jason's brief tenure as the Arkham Knight, he tries to make up for his actions by fighting the crime and corruption of Gotham as the Red Hood.

On a recon mission to observe Black Mask, Jason runs into one of his old torturers and discovers he's not the only one looking to atone.”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21814987?view_adult=true

Shameless

—scandalsavage

—Rated T

—Kon-el/Jason Todd (mentioned Bart/Tim)

—Summary: “Kon has a one-track mind.”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32273284

Don’t let your yearnings get ahead of your earnings

—Skalidra

—Rated T

—Jason Todd/Slade Wilson (Hoodstroke)

—Summary: "Slade."

The tension that draws Todd up a little is interesting, as is his immediate, "As in Wilson?"

Slade quirks an eyebrow, watching the side of the kid's face. "Heard of me, hm?"

"Yeah," Todd says, after a couple seconds, "once or twice." Then, quieter and with more feeling, "Fuck."”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20909573/chapters/49706528

In the corner of his eye

—Skalidra

—Rated T

—Technically tagged JayTim but it’s not like super shippy (also it’s Talon!Jay, so).

—Summary: “For weeks, Tim's been seeing a shadow in the corner of his eye. Just barely there, and he struggles to catch it for more than a moment, or identify it. Then, things start showing up in his apartment; small gifts, with no clue as to who's left them. Tim's determined though; he's going to find out who it is.”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/9794663

And there you have it!

#fic rec list #Jason Todd #a lot of rare pairs that don’t have cool names yet.#or they do and I don’t know them.#I’m gonna go with hoodnighter and hoodstroke #Clark Kent #Midnighter #Slade Wilson #Tiger King of Kandahar #it’s also possible that I forgot to add some…I think I did pretty good though!#my secret rec list is a helluva lot longer.#🤫#thank you dis for pushing me to make this!#at least I get to pimp some Jay rare pairs!#why yes I *did* put a lot of work in this post that will likely be seen by like 5 people max.

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whoredmode · 11 months

Text

i have a meeting i have to get to in like less than 30 minutes but first i’m gonna talk about the sr2 christmas story idea i had on my morning run

it’s several months after the end of sr2. dane vogel is dead, dex escaped, and eric gryphon is trying to piece things back together within ultor. the story opens at night on christmas eve. everyone’s kinda free to do whatever; obviously some saints are celebrating at the bases, some went home, others are just out and about. pierce is with his family, shaundi decided to spend this christmas with laura and tobias and their family, and anteros is spending the holiday at troy’s place. their relationship is kinda(?) more official atp. who knows. anyway so anteros and troy are making out on the couch, having had a lot to drink (spiked eggnog so it’s festive) and they were watching christmas specials but lost interest pretty fast. suddenly troy’s phone rings and he goes to answer despite anteros telling him to ignore it. he looks back at anteros, concerned after hearing what the call was about.

cut to johnny in the stilwater pd holding cell. a few hours earlier johnny had been in a bar by himself, trying to ignore all the christmas shit, drowning his sorrows in some cheap beer. several drinks in and some drunk guy started bothering him, recognizing him as johnny gat. the guy keeps harassing him, and even though johnny thought he was doing fine just ignoring him, finally the drunk remarks that johnny looks pathetic, drinking alone in a bar for the holidays since he doesn’t have a wife to spend it with—not anymore. johnny sees red. he breaks his bottle over the guy’s head and begins to smash his head into the bar repeatedly, finally pinning him down and punching him, beating him to death. an off duty cop smashes a bottle across johnny’s head, knocking him unconscious and taking him to the station.

cut back to johnny in the holding cell. he’s asleep on the bench. anteros and troy are just staring at him for a minute before anteros goes in to try to wake him up/carry him out. troy, using his authority, told the department to just let him go. they hesitantly do. anteros wakes up johnny telling him they gotta go (“johnny, get up, c’mon man let’s go home.” “they’re letting me out already?” “yeah, you’re lucky i’m sleeping with the chief.” “heh, that’s pretty funny.” “…..yeah. hilarious. now let’s go.”)

anteros takes him back to his apartment. they briefly consider just going back to troy’s place bc it was closer but….probably better if they didn’t. anteros lays johnny on his bed and waits a minute before asking what happened. johnny doesn’t feel like talking about it, but anteros can tell something’s very wrong.

this is the first christmas johnny’s had to spend without aisha. he’d never been huge on the holidays, but aisha loved it. and she made him learn to love it. he can’t bring himself to go back to their house. it’s empty and undecorated (what would she think?). in fact, he can’t bring himself to do anything that reminds him of her. not since she died. he believes if he just keeps his mind off her, that things will get better, but lately he fears that he’s just ignoring her. and that makes him feel worse. he’s stuck between two worlds; he wants to think about her, and he does, but sooner or later her death flashes in his mind and he’s in a cold sweat and doesn’t know what to do. he misses her. he misses her so goddamn much. he should’ve saved her. why couldn’t he have saved her?

it’s the first time anteros has seen johnny cry. he never thought he was capable of it, in all honesty. he seemed larger than life, a man of legend, but here he was, lying on his bed desperately rubbing the tears out of his eyes.

he just never thought this first christmas would be so hard. he thought he was doing well, but that guy in the bar sent him over the edge. his knuckles are still covered in dried blood. anteros tells him that maybe the first step is to just try to have a nice christmas. if it was her favorite holiday, maybe the least they can do is try to enjoy themselves. the holiday isn’t over yet, they still have an hour or so. she wouldn’t want to see him get shitfaced at some bar; she’d want to see him have fun with people he cared about. if he’s up for it, they just lit up a big tree outside the phillips building a few hours ago. should be pretty. johnny asks if they can set the tree on fire. anteros smiles.

#yeah troy and anteros’ relationship isn’t actually revealed to others until my srtt rewrite. once troy rejoins the saints and all that #like a ‘‘oh by the way…..’’#tho they are broken up by then but Regardless.#anyway. i think johnny deserves some actual space for grieving and introspection. even if they games don’t want it. i want it.#tho i mean ideally i just wouldn’t kill aisha but what do i know!🙄#but the holidays are a good time for reflection. and i think keeping in line with shit in sr2. it’d be good for this

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waddlebouncefloof · 2 years

Text

Leviathan Mermay 2022 Days 24-25: Trash, Treasure

Summary: The landdweller definitions for "trash" and "treasure" is completely different from how the Shiver interprets them.

Within the deep sea floor, it’s not uncommon to find sunken vessels and bones from long-dead whales. Unfortunately, it also meant that the trash and litter tossed away by lazy landdwellers also settled into the depths of the ocean. Nightmare used to despise the mess. But now…

Cookie and Sugar squeal with joy as Cross indulgently rocks their swing ride from side to side. Being literal handfuls, it was easy to create a playground out of pieces of plastic and metals scattered around the ocean floor. It had been Blank who came up with the idea.

“We can turn all of this into something fun! I always felt bad that my cousins and niblings never got the chance to play in a playground. I always loved playing on the things there. Especially the merry-go-rounds and the swings…”

Through some trial and error, Blank and Percy managed to cobble together a tower and a slide for the pups to swim around and play in. The swings and the merry-go-round needed some adjustments since it was all underwater, but in the end, it worked. And all the pups loved the playground. Even shy, reserved Moss adored playing on the slides and the swings.

Seeing how positively the pups reacted to the gift, all parents started to chip in to expand and refine the playground. Not only did it give use to the litter scattered throughout the sea floor, but it also provided a safe place for the energetic merchildren to use up their boundless energy.

Though the original intention was to create a small play space for the pups, the project exploded into something bigger when Nightmare finally took part in the expansion. In the end, the entire ‘playground’ became…gigantic.

“I can’t believe you gave our pups an entire amusement park,” Kelp stresses to Nightmare as he watches the merchildren being pushed around in a makeshift rollercoaster ride by a cackling Killer. “By this rate, they’ll grow up completely spoiled.”

“Good.”

“Nightmare.”

“Pups deserve some spoiling,” Horror defends as his large, red eyelight follows the pups tumbling and sliding and ‘climbing’ up and down their play space. “Also, you’re smiling. Can’t fool me. You like our pups being spoiled too.”

Kelp flushes.

“Heh, our sweet Kelp, makin’ sure our pups won’t turn out sour. With a Mama like you, they’ll be just fine,” Horror assures him with a nuzzle.

In their squid form, Blank uses their many tentacles to simultaneously move more than one ‘ride,’ laughing along with the young ones. Percy helps too. As they push Crème and Cocoa on the swings, they catch sight of one of the octoguppies chewing on something.

“What’s that in your mouth Cocoa?”

The merchild chews even faster, making the selkie become concerned.

“Cocoa? Please spit it out.”

With a little more coaxing - since Percy had enough self-preservation not to put their hands in the buzzsaw trap that are the octoguppies’ mouths - Cocoa finally spits out the object. It takes a moment for Percy to realize what it is.

“Oh my stars are these gold coins from the lost kingdom of -?”

“Yup,” Blank confirms, not even looking at Percy and the octoguppies’ direction.

“But aren’t these worth -?”

“Not here, they’re not. They’re worth little more than teething toys for the niblings and cousins.” Seeing Percy’s appalled expression, Blank laughs fondly. “Just don’t think too hard about it.”

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

Percy: But darling, the children are chewing on national treasures! These are worth millions!

Blank: I don’t care. My niblings’ comfort is worth more than millions of whatever currency they’re worth.

Percy:

Percy: Well, you’re not wrong -

#leviathantale #mermay 2022 #little selkie #shipchildren

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this-world-of-beautiful-monsters · 10 months

Text

WIP Wednesday

No-pressure tags for @mayfriend, @freshairforrabbits, @kayjaydee17, @princessgemma12, @leonsi.

Warnings for injuries, torture, sleep deprivation, blood, implied character death, recom!jake

He wouldn't even be here if Trudy was alive. She'd have flown the Samson well enough to stay under radar or whatever the fuck the RDA had used to track them, because of course the RDA would find some way to track them, how could they be so stupid. And if they were caught, she'd figure out a way to evade those idiots with ease, leaving them far in her dust and cackling the whole back to base.

But Trudy is dead. Norm is in a cell. He's got cracked ribs, a bloodied nose, what he's pretty sure is a broken leg; although they'd shot him up with painkillers before throwing him in here. Not out of any faint respect for the Geneva Convention, of course, they just want to keep him conscious.

Same reason they've got the lights turned up high, why they're probably ready to start blasting music if he seems about to fall asleep. If Norm loses consciousness he automatically comes up out of link, leaving them nothing except for a useless blue body.

As it is, he's not sure if he's been under long enough to worry the folks back home. Either way, protocol dictates you're not supposed to use emergency stop until vital signs fail, or else risk screwing somebody over at the worst possible moment. And he hadn't been able to transmit a message back before they pulled him out, so they don't know he's been taken, or that the Samsons are no longer safe.

Norm tries to think of the positives. Max hadn't been with him this time, thank fuck; Norm had been heading to Awa'atlu on his own, hoping to check on Kiri and finish setting up the radio equipment that was (hopefully) going to make communication less risky (heh). His Samson had gone down in flames spectacular enough that the enemy (hopefully) won't be able to track it back to base.

He'd considered ignoring the Atmo mask until he passed out, but the bald dickhead had stuck his head in and threatened to strap Norm to his bed with the mask stapled to his face and let him fester in his own shit if he kept that up. Which isn't really Norm's idea of a good time, so instead he's just sitting here, taking the occasional hit of the mask, waiting to be dragged into whatever torture chambers they've got in this so-called city.

Norm tries not to think of all the shit they could do to him, all the fun toys they've no doubt brought over from Earth. They want him to be thinking about it, they want him to be scared, and that's when they strike. It's basic psychology, for fuck's sake.

Knowing that doesn't make the cold knot of terror in his stomach loosen any, though.

Time ticks by. Norm drums his fingers lightly on the mattress, trying to find a beat slower and more relaxed than his pounding heart. He whispers to himself, fragments of notes memorized before long-ago exams, chemical equations, snippets of the Spanish Trudy taught him, some of the Na'vi he and Tom Sully used to quiz each other in once upon a time.

He almost doesn't notice when the lights above start to dim, from eye-watering to merely bright. Being adjusted for comfort...but, Norm's pretty sure, not his.

With a grunt of effort, he forces himself up into a sitting position, shoulders propped against the wall and ears pricked, gaze locked on the cell door. It swishes open, soft electric song, and shadows ripple as a Na'vi-shaped figure slips inside, the door closing behind him.

The first thing Norm sees is the feet--bare, to his surprise, long blue toes strange against the cold floor. Tactical gear, crisp and neat, pistol on the hip, knives everywhere else, an Atmo mask around the neck. Long black hair, a far cry from the rest of Recom Squad's military cuts, braided precisely the way Tom used to wear it.

He's smiling the way he was when he dragged Norm out of the Samson's cockpit, a smile like a piece of the sky ripped out to reveal something strange and wrong underneath. A far cry from Tom's shy smile leaning through their dorm entrance, or Jake's polite, distracted smile in the Hell's Gate corridor.

Wow, you look just like him...

"You got old, Spellman," Jake Sully says.

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randalsgrave · 2 years

Text

Sweetness and Light: Part Three

HOLY FUCKING WOW THIS TOOK LONG ENOUGH

Remember last time when I said "wow this was a lot longer than I thought it was going to be"? Yeah, I absolutely ate that with this third part. Shit totaled out at 18 pages. EIGHTEEN. Part three might as well be a damn book (and probably won't be the only one from now on, heh).

Anyway. I'm so sorry for the long wait on this; y'all have been so patient and I'm so excited to share this with you.

It's day one at TOPGUN, and things get off to an *interesting* start.

BobxFemale!OC. F/C: Kacey Rohl

Word count: 6.8K (holy shit you guys)

Warnings: Colorful language; not beta-read (we die like men); minor editing

Recommended soundtrack: Witch in the Cut - Milo Korbenski; 6'1" - Liz Phair

***

Whether it’s due to nerves or having gotten a lot of sleep the evening before, Katie is out of bed and moving at 0500 the next morning. There’s an hour left before her first alarm is due to go off, and a good three before she’s expected to be butts-in-seats in the schoolhouse, but her brain’s far too wired to settle down for more rest. No matter, she thinks. It’s time she wouldn’t normally have to herself.

So, Katie makes the most of it. She throws on a playlist loaded with Drop Nineteens, Lush, and Milo Korbenski, and relishes in the extra time: she steps in for a shower longer than the 10 minutes she usually allocates, does a full skincare routine, braids and twists her chestnut hair into a tight, neat bun. Hell, she even has time to sit down with a cup of coffee and watch the sky transform on the horizon.

And all before she’s even in uniform.

That in itself is another slow ritual for Katie. It’s probably her favorite one, if she’s being honest - the boot socks and black undershirt, followed by her patch-bedecked flight suit and her spit-shined flight boots… she feels like a superhero transforming for action, a real-deal, hot-shot, high-flying Wonder Woman. She knows she’s hot shit - but in her uniform? The feeling is ten times stronger.

It’s closing in on 0615 by the time she’s all suited up. By this point, breakfast down in the lobby is in full swing, which works perfectly for Katie, who’s already feeling the effects of her metabolism kicking in. She digs out her tan garrison cap from one of her suitcases, grabs her wallet, car keys, and sunglasses off the kitchen counter, and heads downstairs to grab a bite to eat. Who knows? There may very well be other candidates there that she can meet and interact with.

Almost laughably, she’s wrong. It’s dead downstairs in the lobby and at the breakfast bar. It’s strange, Katie thinks; for being a Navy Lodge on one of the busiest naval bases - if not the busiest naval base - on the west coast, it’s a damn ghost town. Granted, it is only 6 in the morning, but it’s the start of the work week, and surely there are bound to be people here who start their day much earlier than others, right?

Apparently not.

Oh well. At least she won’t have to fight people for food from the breakfast bar.

After sticking her garrison cap in one of her leg pockets, Katie grabs a plate, loads it up with home fries, a couple pieces of bacon, and a made-to-order omelet filled with cheese, tomato, and spinach, then takes a seat at one of the many empty tables in the dining area. She positions herself so she’s directly facing the entryway, able to see the comings and goings of the morning, to people-watch. She finds that people are at their most interesting during the wee hours of the morning, when they’re awake but not quite, waiting for their brains and filters to come fully online. She’s seen some pretty interesting behavior during past moments of observation, and she doesn’t doubt that this morning will be no different.

Or so she hopes.

It’s still a good half hour before Katie starts seeing other signs of life in the lodge. Most of what she sees isn’t out of the ordinary - people in their PTUs and NWUs, marching out of the building and off to wherever their duty takes them without so much as a breath spent. Hardly the stuff of curiosity.

Where it starts getting interesting is when people trickle into the dining area to grab breakfast - and at 0700, Fanboy and Halfpint are among the stream.

Katie holds a hand up. “Mornin’ kids,” she greets around a mouthful of omelet.

While Halfpint responds with a grunt before shuffling off to the coffee bar, Fanboy nods in reply and takes the seat opposite Katie. “How’re you feeling this morning?”

“Surprisingly well-rested.”

“Why ‘surprisingly’?”

“Uh, because I was up at five.”

“Jesus, why?”

Katie makes a face, shrugs. “I dunno, overabundance of sleep? Nerves?”

“Pfft, what are you nervous about?” Fanboy asks, brows furrowed equally in amusement and confusion. “You’re one of the best pilots in the Navy. Why do you think you’re here?”

Halfpint, returning from the coffee bar with a full-to-the-brim cup of dark roast in one hand and a plate of scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast in the other, scoffs as he sets his things down and takes the seat to Fanboy’s left. “Says my fuckin’ backseater,” he grumbles. “All you do is point and shoot.”

“Yeah, but I do it real good.”

Halfpint shrugs one shoulder, nods, the closest thing to a concession he’s willing to give at this hour. “That you do, my Floridian friend, that you do.”

“You love me, you really do.”

“Aaaaaand you ruined it.”

“Well damn, Kozer, just say we aren’t cool anymore and I’ll go hang out with my other friend. At least she’ll be nice to me.”

Although Katie’s chuckling at the bickering between the pilot and his WSO, inwardly she’s beaming. It’s nice to have someone openly admit that she’s their friend, no matter if it’s being said in jest to someone else. Considering how little friendship she had coming into TOPGUN, she needs more of it in her life. Hell, she might even consider calling Halfpint a friend, too. (That one’s debatable, though.)

They scarf down their breakfasts around conversation and the occasional jab at one another, finishing around 0730 - a nice, leisurely-paced half-hour, a rare privilege for people in their line of work. It may well be the only time that they get to take their sweet time on a Monday morning; after today, who the hell knows when they’re going to get another time like this?

Katie’s the first standing, positioning her garrison cap just so on her head and slipping on her sunglasses, calm and cool and collected. “Ready whenever you guys are.”

“I’m ready, but gimme a sec. Gotta take a picture real quick.” Fanboy takes his phone out from his left pocket and pulls up his camera, much to the annoyance of Halfpint.

“Dude, a picture? Are you fucking serious?”

“Oh shut up, it’s not for me; it’s for my mom. This is like the Navy’s equivalent of the first day of school. She’d kill me if I didn’t send her a picture.”

Halfpint, though he rolls his eyes hard enough for his pupils to practically disappear into his head, relents and takes position behind Fanboy (though not without putting on a pair of black Pit Vipers and sporting the most unenthused look). Katie, meanwhile, shrugs, sticks her tongue out, and flashes a peace sign with her right hand. It’s good-enough posing for Fanboy, who snaps the picture with a grin, then sends it off in a text to his mom, the caption “First day of school vibes” below it.

“Can you send me that?” Katie asks as they pass through the hotel entryway. “I wanna send it to my sister.”

“Yeah, no prob. Here.” Fanboy fires off another text, and three seconds later it dings through on Katie’s phone. “If you put it on Insta or whatever lemme know, ‘cause I’m gonna wanna tag myself.”

“Mexican, my ass,” Halfpint mutters as he places his garrison cap on his head and lines the point up with the bridge of his nose. “You’re the biggest white girl walking, I swear.”

“Hey Kozer, anybody ever tell you what an abrasive douche you are?” Katie’s question sounds sweet enough and her smile doubly looks it, but there’s no missing the barb behind them. She’s getting just the tiniest bit tired of this guy’s shitty witticisms.

Whether or not the words faze him, Halfpint shrugs as they make their way through the parking lot. “I am what I am.”

“You wanna know why his callsign’s ‘Halfpint’?” Fanboy chimes in, lips quirked in a smirk.

“You mean there’s an explanation besides ‘he’s short’?”

“Hey, fuck you!”

“Well yeah, obviously that, but like, that whole ‘abrasive douche’ thing you brought up earlier? That’s why.”

Katie’s eyebrows furrow. “I’m not following.”

At that, Fanboy heaves a sigh. “Halfpint: Hardheaded Angry Little Fucker Possibly In Need of Therapy. Following now?”

“Yeah…” Katie first looks at Fanboy, then Halfpint, then at Fanboy again, and Halfpint again - and snickers. “Boy, y’all hit the nail on the head with that one.”

“Yeah yeah yeah, I’m an angry little shit, hee-hoo funny. Who’s driving?”

Katie gives her car keys a jangle. “I am - and I don’t wanna hear shit from you about my driving, or your small ass is getting booted.”

Though he rolls his eyes, Halfpint doesn’t give much else of a response beyond a curt nod. It’s a good-enough response for Katie, who bobs her head in satisfaction before climbing into the driver’s seat and starting the 4Runner up. Liz Phair’s 6’1” immediately beats forth from the speakers, something that brings a small smile to Katie’s lips. Talk about a song to set the tone for the day.

She sings to herself as she backs out of the space and crawls down the aisle, turns and weaves through the sea of cars and motorcycles. For having been awake as long as she has, and for having put up with some fairly questionable shit from Halfpint, Katie’s in a good mood. She’s had her coffee, had a good breakfast, and now she’s on her way to 13 weeks of elite training with some good people, singing along with Liz Phair about standing tall and kicking ass. Hell, it seems like nothing can go wrong, like nothing’s going to bring her down.

And then everything goes to shit before she’s even out of the parking lot.

There’s a car sitting perpendicular to the exit, a black Nissan Altima with pink diamante license plate frames, and that’s all it’s doing - sitting. The driver inside seems to be looking everywhere but at the road in front of her - waiting on someone, maybe? Katie’s not sure. Either way, she’s not moving, she’s not paying attention, and Katie isn’t interested in sitting around and wasting time.

So, Katie turns.

Turns out it’s the wrong decision.

No sooner does she complete the turn than the girl behind her lays on her horn. She doesn’t tap it, doesn’t push it - no, she lays on it, blasts a long, shrill screech into the otherwise calm atmosphere. Then, as if that isn’t enough to underscore how upset she is, she pulls out from behind Katie and races up beside her, passenger window down so she can shout profanities and filth at her, mostly in Spanish. Katie’s no expert, but she’s pretty sure she gets called ‘a piece of shit’ and ‘bitch’, among other things. She’s still shouting when she rolls up her window and takes off, a pink, girly-scripted sticker reading “If you’re gonna ride my ass then at least pull my hair” the last thing anyone sees as she peels down the road and vanishes.

For a moment, all Katie can do is park the car and sit in stunned silence. There’s at least five seconds of confused blinking as the three try to process what exactly just happened. Was… Was that actually real?

Katie’s the first to speak, though she stutters just the tiniest bit. “...What the fuck was that?”

Fanboy’s bottom lip curls and he shakes his head. Like he’s got any clue.

“She sounded like a peach,” Halfpint mutters.

“First time anyone’s ever called me pendeja,” Katie mumbles. “What on earth…”

In any case, she’s hoping that it’s a one-time occurrence.

Sighing, Katie puts the 4Runner in drive, and steers them in the direction of the hangars and aviation buildings. They’ve got shit to do; there’s no time to dwell on the poor behavior of people around them.

It’s a 10-minute drive from the lodge to where they’re supposed to be. By the time Katie pulls them into the parking lot and shuts the car off, it’s closing in on quarter to 08. It’s still not quite the start of the day, but it’s getting close. As such, there’s no time for them to sit in her car and relax. It’s go time.

At least, that’s what runs through her head before she sees a black Altima two parking aisles ahead of her - the same one from earlier, with the sarcastic window decal and diamante license plate frames and everything. Katie groans. Suddenly she’d much rather sit in her car and disappear from sight - anything to not have to deal with her.

“The hell are you groaning for?” Halfpint frowns.

“Remember our lovely lady friend from earlier?” Katie points to the Altima. “Guess she’s one of our classmates.”

“Or an instructor.”

“Oh god, don’t say that.”

“Well, whatever she is, she’s definitely gonna be out for your ass.”

Apparently, the girl in question can sense when people are talking about her, because no sooner do the words leave Halfpint’s mouth than she’s getting out of her car and making long, fast strides towards the 4Runner - and if looks could kill? Oh boy.

Her name is Melendez, callsign Famine, according to the name patch on her flight suit - and she looks ready to rip the damn door off.

She scowls, slams the side of her fist into Katie’s window. “You’ve got some fuckin’ nerve, pendeja, cuttin’ me off like that,” she all but yells, Bronx accent coming in thick and aggressive. “I ‘oughta beat your fuckin’ ass for that.”

Oh great. Just what Katie needs - an angry latina from New York.

This is so not what she wants to be dealing with at quarter to 8.

Katie closes her eyes, pinches the bridge of her nose with a heavy sigh. “I didn’t cut you off. You were sitting in the middle of the road looking at your phone or whatever. Don’t know what to tell you.”

“Bitch, I was waiting for people to cross the road!”

Oh, for the love of Christ - “There was no one there when I turned. Not my fault you weren’t paying attention.”

“I don’t fuckin’ care! You shoulda’ waited for me to go first! Or do you not know how to fuckin’ drive? Probably not - little blanquitas like you don’t really know shit.”

Katie was already tired of the conversation before it even started - but now, after this shit, after being called ‘whitey’? She’s doubly fed up with it.

She opens her eyes, musters up as bored and unimpressed of an expression as she can. “I’m gonna go inside now,” she states. “If you wanna keep screaming out here then you go right ahead.”

Then, she throws open her door (she takes a tiny amount of pleasure in seeing Melendez jump back and well out of her way), hops out of the 4Runner, and walks off towards the schoolhouse without another word. If this girl wants to have issues with her, then that’s her problem, but god knows Katie isn’t going to sit around and tolerate getting yelled at by her.

She soon finds herself flanked by Fanboy and Halfpint as she’s crossing through the doorway and into the building. Fanboy can’t seem to stop shaking his head, and Halfpint… Well…

“Jesus Christ Garcia, anybody ever tell you your women are fucking terrifying?”

“Don’t need to tell me, bro; I’m just as freaked out as you. Fucking yikes.” Fanboy practically shudders at the thought of the last few minutes.

“She’s one spicy mamacita, I’ll tell you that.”

“Halfpint,” Katie says in a clipped voice, “I literally never wanna hear those words come outta your mouth again.” Does it come off a bit more harsh and blunt than she’d intended it to? Maybe a little bit. At this point, though, Katie doesn’t really care. This girl’s put her in a bad mood and she’s pissed about it. It’s certainly not the mood she wants to be in on her first day at TOPGUN.

She stops, closes her eyes, takes a deep breath. She needs to calm down. She can feel her blood pressure rising and that’s about the last thing she needs happening in a place like this. She especially doesn’t need Fanboy putting a hand on her shoulder and asking her if she’s okay. She has to get her shit together, she has to. She can’t have him - or anyone, for that matter - thinking any less of her.

No one likes a drama queen, Katherine Mae, NO ONE.

Katie’s jaw tenses. Carrie and her bullshit again, haunting her. Fuck that - and fuck her. She’s not letting her in her head, not now.

She takes another breath. “I’m gonna go sit down and… chill out. Y’all can do whatever. I just… don’t wanna be out here when that psycho shows up again.”

Then, she peels off from Fanboy and Halfpint, and makes her way down the hall to their designated classroom. With any luck, it should still be empty when she gets there. She needs peace and quiet, someplace to calm down and gather her thoughts - and, ideally, it needs to be someplace free from people she knows.

Fortunately, it is.

Almost.

There’s only one other person sitting in the classroom when Katie walks in. He’s got his back to the doorway, and he’s settled forward in his seat, weight on his forearms, right hand drumming an idle tattoo with a black ballpoint pen. His head is up, gaze straight forward and fixed on the whiteboard at the front of the room. He is, in every way, the picture of quiet focus, readiness.

Or anxiety.

Either way, he doesn’t seem too likely to bother her or be an asshole to her while she recalibrates. He seems… quiet. Pleasant. Certainly more pleasant than other people in the vicinity.

She says nothing as she takes a seat at the table across the aisle from him. For a moment, she simply observes. So deep in his trance is the stranger that he doesn’t even notice he has company; his gaze remains forward, and the pen in his hand continues to tap, tap, tap, on and on into the quiet of the empty room. It’s very methodical, very laser-focused - very on point for a WSO, which is what she’s guessing he is.

Katie can’t help but curl her lips in a half-smile as she watches him. “You seem eager,” she states. Christ, she hopes the statement comes across as kind and not taunting.

The stranger, jolted out of his trance, looks over at her, ocean-blue eyes blinking behind the large wire frame glasses on his face. He seems to almost study her for a moment before replying.

“Sort of? It’s nerves more than anything. Just… Trying to channel it into something else. Like positive nervousness.” He smiles tightly at her, but by no means is it unfriendly. It’s the smile of someone who’s not really used to socializing with people. Interestingly, Katie finds it endearing.

“Positive nervousness… I like it.” She pauses, one second, two seconds - then stretches across the aisle and holds a hand out. “I’m Sand Trap.”

He takes her hand in his, gives it a single shake. “Bob.”

“Leading with your first name, huh?”

“Oh no, it’s my callsign.”

“…Your callsign is your name?”

“It’s… kind of a long story,” he explains, almost with a wince.

“Huh.” It’s the first time Katie’s ever heard of something like that. Then again, there’s a first time for everything.

Guess it’s a good thing they’ve got the next 13 weeks together; she’s gonna want to hear that story at some point.

Before she has a chance to open her mouth and reply, Fanboy and Halfpint waltz in, accompanied by others none of them have seen before, all of whom swagger to their seats with all the bravado and overbearing confidence she’s come to expect from most pilots. She gets the sense that most of these guys haven’t been humbled in their careers before. They walk too tall, smirk too hard. Katie’s no expert by any means, but she’s smart enough to know that she’s here to learn, not show off. Looking at Fanboy and Halfpint, she can only hope that they realize this, too.

“You ready for this?” Fanboy whispers to Katie excitedly as he passes by her.

Katie snorts in reply. “Dunno. I’ll let you know when my brain starts processing again.”

“Yeah, you better get it processing again fast,” Halfpint chimes in as he takes his seat beside Fanboy. “You in the jungle now, baby. And you gonna die.”

Ignoring the fact that Fanboy’s pilot literally just quoted Guns n’ Roses at her, Katie shakes her head and gives a hard roll of her eyes. “Cocky ass,” she mutters. God, if there’s anyone who’s in for a rude awakening over the next 13 weeks, it’s definitely him.

And speaking of people who are in desperate need of an ego check… She’s in the classroom now, strolling - no, sauntering - up the aisle to the front, large iced coffee in one manicured hand, lips fixed in a smirk. When she walks by her, noisily swirling the contents of her coffee tumbler, Katie can’t help but think of a rattlesnake flicking its tail. She knows she’s in the shit with her already, but this? This just underscores it.

Stay calm, Katie tells herself. Just stay calm. You’re not here to deal with her; you’re here to learn. Just stay focused… Just stay calm…

It’s another 10 minutes of waiting around, of twiddling thumbs and scrolling through social media for the 10th time. It’s a lot of time to sit and think, to overthink. Katie doesn’t know which is worse - waiting for the catapult to launch her, or this.

Then, at exactly 0800, hell and destiny appear in the form of a bleach-headed Lieutenant Commander in a fresh green flight suit. Though he says nothing, everyone jumps to attention as he brusquely strides to front and center. He doesn’t need to say anything. Everyone knows who he is.

The instructor.

“Seats” is all he says before turning his back to the room and scribbling things across the whiteboard. When he turns around again, he’s standing beside his name, rank, and his callsign: Lieutenant Commander Cole Everhardt, otherwise known as ‘Rubberneck’.

“Some of you may know who I am, others may not,” he begins. “Those of you who don’t know, you’re much better off. The ones who’ve heard of me know what kind of gauntlet you’re all in for these next thirteen weeks.”

Katie can’t help the way her eyebrow shoots up at the statement. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see that Bob is making a similar expression. Clearly, neither of them were expecting their instructor to start on that kind of note.

God, they’re gonna get their asses kicked here.

“You all know why you’re here. You” - Everhardt sweeps his arms out wide, gesturing to the pilots and WSO’s sitting before him - “are Big Navy’s best and brightest - or, at least, you will be at the end of your time here. You have a lot to learn in the next thirteen weeks. Hopefully, you’ll be able to keep up.”

They’re not even through Everhardt’s introduction when Melendez lets out a loud snicker and oh for Chrissake. Katie supposes it was only a matter of time before she piped up, but she sure wasn’t expecting her to jump on being problematic within the first 10 minutes of class.

She’s swizzling the straw in her iced coffee, flicking and clinking the ice against the wall of the cup, and it’s all Katie can do not to walk over and snatch the damn thing out of her hand. It’s like she’s doing it on purpose, like she’s trying to get under her skin (and succeeding at it, damn her).

Luckily, Everhardt (sort of) beats Katie to it. His hands are on his hips as he turns and faces Melendez with an exasperated glare on his face. “You wanna cut that out, or do I have to play bad teacher and take your shit away?”

Melendez flashes him a grin. “Nah, I’m cool,” she drawls. “I got something I wanna say though.”

“And what would that be?”

Goddamn if the grin on Melendez’s face doesn’t turn smug as soon as Everhardt asks. She’s about to start shit, Katie knows it.

“Yeah, I ain’t the one you need to be tellin’ all this to. Tell it to these bitches” - she nods her head back at the rest of the class - “‘cause they’re the ones playin’ catch-up with me.” At this, she turns full in her seat, makes eye contact with Katie. “Hope you fly better than you drive, pendeja, or we’re gonna have a problem.”

Katie’s jaw clenches and her blood boils. Jesus fucking Christ, what is this girl’s problem?

If she didn’t have a reason to do well in this course before, she’s certainly got one now.

Everhardt, meanwhile, is having none of Melendez’s bullshit. His face may be smooth and his demeanor calm and even, but it’s clear to everyone watching that he’s anything but. He’s pissed - annoyed, at the very least. And who can blame him?

“Let’s get something straight,” he starts, voice cool and words measured. “You’re a damn good pilot; there’s no mistaking that. Big Navy wouldn’t have sent you here otherwise.”

“Damn right, I am-”

“However, we are not in the business of ‘good enough,’ understand? You might’ve been good coming in, Melendez, but you can always be better. And that ‘better than everyone’ attitude you got? Get rid of that now. Cockiness and arrogance will do you no favors here at TOPGUN. You’re here to learn, just like the rest of your classmates - and as far as I’m concerned, you’re as much at the bottom of the totem pole as they are. Until you prove otherwise, any skills you have in the cockpit don’t mean shit to me. Am I clear?”

“But-”

“Am I clear, Lieutenant Melendez?”

Melendez looks so mad she could spit - but she relents, gritting out a “yes sir” before taking a loud, sharp sip on her iced coffee. Silenced - and rather embarrassingly, at that. Thank god. Katie’s certain she hears the whole room exhale a collective breath of relief.

Everhardt continues on as if the interruption never happened, launching into a rundown of class format and what they all can expect in the weeks ahead. From the sound of it, he’s going to wipe the floor with them inside the cockpit and outside it. It’s not a comforting realization, but they at least take solace in the fact that they’ll be challenged, stimulated.

Someone out there thinks you’re hot shit. It may not be Everhardt, but fuck him, Katie tells herself as she listens in, makes herself into as blank of a canvas as possible. Someone else out there thinks you’ve got what it takes to ace this. So ace this. Show them what you’re capable of.

It won’t be easy, not in the slightest - but Katie’s not one to back down from a challenge. Everhardt wants a top-notch pilot? He’s gonna get one.

Hell or high water, Katie will make sure of that.

***

Three hours later, it’s 1100, and the class is splintering off into various groups for lunch. Halfpint heads off on his own to the food court a couple blocks down, muttering something about solitude, peace, and a bowl of broccoli beef. When asked about it by Katie, Fanboy merely shrugs.

“Dude, I’ve been flying with him for years and I still don’t know what he’s talking about sometimes,” he says. “You kinda’ learn to just roll with it.”

“Fair enough. You wanna just hit up that Mexican place we went to last night? I could go for some more tacos, or a burrito or whatever.”

“I’m down. Let’s do it.”

“Sweet.”

They grab their things, walk side-by-side out of the classroom and down the hallway, covers placed just so on their heads and sunglasses perched on the bridges of their noses, casually in sync. It’s a nice feeling, this easygoingness, Katie muses.

They’re about to cross through the entryway and head outside when Katie glances to her left and catches sight of Bob, standing alone in front of a row of vending machines, mulling over his lunch options.

“Hey, wait-” She stops Fanboy with her hand on his shoulder, nods down the hall at him. Maybe it’s the look on his face, the tired, downcast one that says he’s done this a thousand times and he’s resigned to doing it a thousand more. Maybe it’s the distinct lack of people around him. Maybe it’s the vending machines, chock full of half-busted ramen packs, bags of Skittles, and semi-crushed honey buns. Whatever it is, something about the sight gnaws at Katie, makes her stomach sink.

It’s too depressing. She can’t leave him here. No way.

“Hey Bob!”

Bob jumps, snaps his head in the direction his name came from. “...Yeah?”

“C’mon, we’re going into Gaslamp.”

Had it been anyone else Katie would’ve politely asked them to come along, but with Bob, it’s an order. She gets the sense that if she’d asked, he would’ve tried to graciously decline and insist that he was fine on his own.

Too bad she’s not giving him that option.

“You got your stuff on you?” she asks.

“Uh, no, um-” His face colors, just the tiniest bit. “I didn’t think I was going anywhere, so I left it in the classroom-”

“Well, grab it and meet us outside. Not leaving without you.”

“Are you sure? You don’t have to drag me-”

“Yes, Bob, I’m sure.” Katie smiles at him, somewhere between reassuring, friendly, and inviting. “C’mon. Mine’s the black 4Runner out front.”

Bob gives Katie a single nod before he takes off down the hall and off to the classroom, leaving Katie behind with Fanboy - who happens to be quirking a rather sharp eyebrow at her.

“You’re inviting owl glasses along?”

Katie’s brows knit together. Where the hell did that come from?

“Yeah,” she replies, voice lilting like the answer is obvious. “He’s nice and seems like he’d be good company. Why wouldn’t I invite him?”

“Fair enough.”

Katie only sighs as she steps out into the late-morning sun and walks towards her car. It has to be because he’s backseater to Halfpint, has to be because that short, pissy little fucker’s rubbed off on him. That’s the only reason she can think of that explains why Fanboy would be coming off as judgmental or rude. IS he being rude, though? Katie wonders. Is he being rude or am I seeing things that aren’t there?

She heaves another sigh as she climbs into the driver’s seat. Whatever. She can think about it later. Right now, she’d rather enjoy her lunch.

Bob joins them in the car moments later, hopping into the backseat and taking the middle spot. Katie can tell that he doesn’t do this often; he’s sitting up straight as a board and has his hands clasped over his knees - postured, polite. It’s not relaxed in the slightest. Bless.

“So… Where are we going?”

“This taqueria we found last night,” Fanboy answers from the passenger seat. “Shit’s fire.”

“Oh. Nice.”

“Yeah, it was really good.” Katie glances in the rearview mirror at Bob, tries to make eye contact with him. “You get out into town yet Bob, check it out a little bit?”

Bob shakes his head. “Not yet. I got in pretty late yesterday.”

“Oh. Where’d you come from?”

“Oh, not far. I came from Lemoore.”

“Isn’t Lemoore, like, four hours from here?” Fanboy asks quizzically.

“Five, actually,” Bob replies with a sheepish chuckle. “It’s not far, but it doesn’t help that my work day ran later than usual.”

Katie chuckles. Yep, he’s a WSO, all right.

“Oof. Yeah, that’s no fun.”

“Eh, it is what it is. Needs of the Navy, you know?”

“The number of times I’ve heard that fucking phrase-”

“Girl, the number of times we’ve all heard that fucking phrase,” Fanboy cuts in with a snort. “I’m pretty sure that’s the only explanation for why Melendez is here.”

Katie’s face immediately goes sour at the mention of Melendez. Christ, even though it’s only been a day (fuck, a morning), she could go an eternity without ever hearing her name again and it would still be too soon.

“If the needs of the Navy require sending her to TOPGUN, then this branch is fucked,” she mutters. “I dunno whose idea that was, but it was a bad one.”

“Yeah, she’s, uh… She’s something else.” Bob’s glancing off to the side as he’s speaking, scratching the back of his head, wincing. It’s an admittedly tamer reaction than Katie’s; hell, she might as well have hissed at the mention of her. Still, his reaction makes it clear that he’s not a big fan of hers, either.

“Just… So long as she leaves me alone, then there’s no problem. At least, there shouldn’t be. I dunno.”

Fanboy lets out a loud snicker. “Leave you alone, after this morning? Nah. Guarantee you she’s gonna go out of her way to make your life hell.”

“Yeah, don’t remind me.” He’s not wrong - but that doesn’t mean that Katie necessarily agrees with it or wants to hear it.

It’s a short drive from base to the Gaslamp district, a series of left and right turns that bring the three to a stop in front of the taqueria from last night. Unlike last night, though, the taqueria is packed today - packed with service members in uniform, no less. It seems that Katie isn’t the only one who’s a fan of this place.

The three make their way inside to order their food, then shuffle through the throng of patrons to a booth in the far back corner. It’s cramped, but it’s of little concern to them. If anything, it adds to the ambiance of the place.

“Damn,” Fanboy whistles as he unwraps the foil encasing his chicken-stuffed Cali burrito. “I don’t remember it being this packed last night.”

Katie’s already swan diving into a steaming carnitas mulita when he makes the comment. She chuckles as she tears a large bite out. “Lunch rush, peanut. Guess we weren’t the only ones craving Mexican food.”

“I can see that.” He rips a chunk out of his burrito, ponders as he chews. “Reminds me of this Cuban place I used to go to in Miami. It’d be swamped with locals and tourists and you’d be lucky to get counter space, much less a booth in the back corner. Holy shit, though, that food was something else. Worth the insanity and then some.”

"Florida, huh? You from the area?”

“Sure am. Born in St. Pete, raised in Pensacola.”

“Nice.”

“Not really. I have to go to Miami for any decent ‘brown people’ food. It’s all Krystal and Waffle House where my family is.”

“Hey, don’t you disrespect Wa-Ho now,” Katie tuts jokingly.

“I’m a born and raised Florida man; I’ll do whatever I damn-well please.”

“Smartass.”

They spend the lunch hour swapping stories and jokes, spend it discussing life, the navy, and everything in between.

At least, Katie and Fanboy do. Bob, on the other hand, is quiet, keeps to himself and his food, speaks only when he’s asked a question - which isn’t often, Katie notices. She’s not sure why, but it bothers her. She knows he’s not being standoffish; he doesn’t strike her as that kind of person.

So why is he not engaging with them?

“You okay, Bob?”

“Wha- yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking, is all.” He’s sitting the same way he was in the classroom and in the back of the 4Runner, all stiff and proper-like. His enchilada plate sits to his left, half-eaten and picked at, the byproduct of a fast-working, anxious-vibing WSO. To hell with just 'thinking'; Bob looks like he's trying to survive his lunch hour.

Katie nods to the side entrance. “You wanna go think outside where it’s a little less crazy?”

“Oh no, it’s fine; we’re gonna have to go soon anyway so what’s the point?”

“Actually, we should probably go now,” Fanboy cuts in, looking down at the watch fastened around his wrist. “Something tells me it’s gonna be a bitch getting back on base.”

“Fair. I’d rather not have Everhardt crawling up my ass about being late. Let’s go.”

“Y’all go ahead and start the car up. I gotta use the head.”

Then, Fanboy vanishes into the lunch crowd without another word, leaving Katie alone with Bob, who’s pursing his lips and twiddling his thumbs like a teenager on his first date.

Katie can’t help herself; she giggles at the sight of him. “You can relax, you know; I don’t bite.”

“I know; I’m sorry.” He reaches one hand up and back, rubs the back of his dark blonde head sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to ruin you guys’ lunch. Social situations aren’t exactly my strong suit.”

“Dude, I don’t think they’re anyone’s strong suit, especially if it’s their first time meeting someone. You’re totally fine.”

“Well,” Bob sighs, “I’m glad someone thinks so. I’m still skeptical myself.”

He’s so self-deprecating it’s almost a little heartbreaking. Katie wonders what he’s gone through to make him like this.

“You shouldn’t be. At least, I don’t think you should be,” she replies. “You’re good company and I liked having you along with us.”

His gaze is trailing towards the floor, down towards his boots. “Thanks.”

The gnawing in her stomach is back, and it’s worse. Katie may not know Bob super well, but that doesn’t mean she’s open to him being detached and hard on himself. Bob’s a nice guy; he doesn’t deserve that.

She holds an open hand out, palm side up. “Here, lemme see your phone and I’ll give you my number.”

Bob says nothing as he takes his phone out of his flight suit pocket, but it doesn’t matter. Katie can see the question in his eyes. “Why are you doing this?”

Oh, Bob.

Katie gives him a soft smile as she takes his phone and keys her number into his contacts. “I’m trying this new thing where I make friends with the people I fly with.” She then taps the number to call her phone, and ends the call after two rings. “And you seem like a decent-enough guy, so… Here we are.”

He’s studying her again, Bob, trying to figure her out. If Katie didn’t know any better, she’d say he’s looking at her like he’s trying to figure out if she’s lying. There’s definitely a story behind that one, a reason.

After what feels like ages of him studying her, Bob finally takes the phone from Katie’s outstretched hand and slips it back into his pocket. “Lemme know how that works out for you,” he says, quietly. “The whole ‘making friends’ thing. Can’t really say I’ve had much luck with it.” He smiles at her, but it’s tinged with sadness, disappointment - and god, if it doesn’t kill Katie a little bit.

She shrugs, speaks. Her response is just as quiet. “Hasn’t really worked out for me, either, but I’m not letting it stop me.” She pauses, looks at him directly, tries to convey as much sincerity in a single glance as she can. “I’ll be your friend if you’ll be mine.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Though it’s not immediate, when Bob smiles this time around, there’s more brightness to it. It’s a nice sight that eases the twisting in Katie’s stomach.

She could get used to seeing him smile more.

Before she can open her mouth to speak more sweet words of encouragement, Fanboy re-emerges from the crowd of lunchgoers, yelling over the din of mariachi music and passionate conversation filling the taqueria. “Thought y’all were getting the car ready!”

Katie shrugs. “I dunno, we were waiting for you, I guess.”

“Wha- no! Ay-ya, come on, we gotta bounce before everyone starts rushing the main gate and we’re late.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I hear you,” Katie all but groans. She looks back at Bob, fixes her eyes on his. “You all set to go?”

“Yeah, I’m all set.”

“Good.” Katie pulls her keys out of her pocket, drops her garrison cap on her head. “C’mon then, let’s go.”

Bob nods, tails behind Katie and Fanboy. “Hopefully the rest of the day won’t be too bad.”

“Yeah, hopefully.” Katie honestly doubts it, but she can’t bring herself to care too much. She’s more focused on the dialogue she now has with another member of her class - a nice, soft-spoken member. It’ll be interesting to see where this goes, she muses - and then smiles to herself.

With Bob around? Maybe these next 13 weeks won’t be so bad.

Maybe.

@thestagsheadsblog @everything-i-love-in-life @luckyladycreator2 @docdetective

#top gun maverick #robert bob floyd #bob floyd #bob top gun #robert bob floyd x female oc #female oc #lewis pullman #bob my beloved #movies #film #fanfiction #top gun #top gun: maverick

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green-eyes-white-feathers · 6 months

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so. uh. i may have made an epilogue for my friend's gen loss fic. ima post the link to theirs and also put my story below.

link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50311609/chapters/127101310

fic:

Ranboo awakes from their thankfully nightmare-less sleep. But while there were no nightmares haunting them that night, they had the feeling they were missing something. He sits up slowly to avoid waking Sneeg and Charlie, and rests his head on his hands as he grasps at the fleeting edges of … something.

A man with brown hair and square glasses, similar to Charlie's.

A pig-like avatar spawning - was that the word? - a wither in a blocky world.

“INFINITE CAKE!”

“Do you want to be a hero, —----? THEN DIE LIKE ONE!”

“-E—---LA—- NEVER DIES!”

“I shall repay that injustice a thousand times over.”

“Hello everyone. Technoblade here. If you’re watching this, I am dead…”

Ran sits all the way up so fast, they fall off the bed. Sneeg and Charlie are immediately awake, slipping off the bed to sit next to Ranboo.

“… Ranboo?! … what’s wrong? …”

“… not responding … dissociating? …”

“… boo … you’re not there … promise,”

Ranboo feels someone touch his shoulder, snapping him back to reality. They shake Charlie off, putting their head between their knees. He takes deep breaths, trying to comprehend what he just realized. Once they have regained their composure, they readjust so they are leaning on Charlie, and they begin to speak.

“That man … his name isn't Dave. It’s Alex, but I knew him as Technoblade,”

Sneeg sucks in a sharp breath as the name scratches at a long lost memory.

“He … died. Of cancer. In 2022. 34 years ago. And he did not look like that he was alive. What he looks like now is how most … fanartists … drew him like. Because he - we - played a game called Minecraft. In real life, Techno had short brown hair and brown eyes. He also had glasses … like yours, Charlie … ”

Sneeg slowly breathes in and out before standing up and brushing off his pants.

“Welp. Guess we’re going to have a very important conversation with someone tomorrow.”

—---------------------------------------------------------------------

“Hullo. You wanted to talk to me?”

Sneeg and Charlie look up from the garden at Dave - or Alex? - let’s go with Alex.

“How’d you know that?” Charlie asks.

Alex shrugs. “Kristen told me.”

“Who’s Kristen?” Sneeg rolls back his shoulder, trying to work out the kinks that had developed during his work in the garden. “Also, how would this ‘Kristen’ know whether we wanted to talk to you?”

Alex lets himself into the garden, undoing the latch from the outside. “She’s Lady Death.”

Charlie turns suddenly, staring at Alex. “Lady Death?! How the fuck do you know her?!”

Alex shrugs once again. “She’s my best friend’s wife.”

—-------i must interrupt your daily sad short story—-------

—--with a link to how i think Sneeg and Charlie look rn:--- -–—--------https://tinyurl.com/sneegandcharlie—------------

“I- ok. Whatever. Not what we need to talk about.”

The three file into the house, moving toward the living room where Ranboo sits. They’re currently drawing with their eye closed … somehow. Alex covertly leans over to glance at the drawing.

. . .

Oh shit.

. . .

It was himself. Not as he appeared now, how he looked when he was alive. Short brown hair, rectangular glasses.

Ranboo looked up, opening his eye to stare at Alex.

“Hi, Techno.”

“Hey, Ran.” Alex responds shakily.

“Missed you,” Ranboo tells him.

Alex sits in one of the chairs and begins to fidget with his hair. “I missed you too, kid. Kristen had to stop me from goin’ back to the livin’ world and becomin’ a ghost,”

Charlie, Sneeg and Ranboo all let out identical snorts, surprising Alex.

“Heh?!”

“Trust me, you do not want to be a ghost,” Sneeg responds. “It’s not fun.”

“ … Well, what do you need to talk about?” Alex asks.

Ranboo takes a deep breath, and forges ahead. “Why didn’t you tell us? All this time, I’ve been missing memories, and you could’ve helped me - and Sneeg and Charlie - get our memories back. Why?”

Alex’s hands shake slightly and he pulls in a long, deep breath. “Kristen told me not to. I wanted to, I wanted to so bad. She was about to not let me visit you guys, but Phil talked to her -”

A man with kind blue eyes and shoulder length hair.

Another setting in the blocky world - Minecraft - where there is black stone lining the walls around a table that looks like a portal.

“Hi there, mate!”

“Do you really think we’re going to be fair? This is war, —----.”

“Man, sucks to suck, right?”

“Cake time, you little shit!”

“Sometimes you can’t expect forgiveness at all … ”

“Phil … weren’t you really good friends with him?” Ranboo quietly asks.

Alex flinches slightly before answering. “Yeah, we all were. He’s a great father figure,”

Ranboo laughs a little bit. “I remember that … he bought me food once and demanded to talk with my parents,”

“Ok-” Sneeg interrupts. “-I love to hear the reminiscing, but why did Lady Death order you to not tell us?”

Alex starts to unbraid his hair, a nervous habit. “‘It wasn’t time,’ she said. ‘They’re not ready. It will break them.’ I said that didn’t make sense, but she was insistent,”

“Oh.” Charlie says quietly. There is a long silence before Charlie asks, “Why don’t I remember you at all? Ran does and I can tell that Sneeg remembers some. But I don’t remember anything,”

“ … hmm. There’s no good way to say this. Thing is, Charlie … you’re not the real Charlie. You’re a puppet made by Showfall when they were first starting out. The ‘real’-“ Alex puts quotes around the word. “-Charlie is still on Earth, missin’ Ranboo and Sneeg and the others.”

“But that’s not to say you’re not your own person. You’re a individual, you’re only similar to Livin’ Charlie in your appearance and parts of your personality,”

“So, I’m just what Showfall made me-“

“No, no, no, of course not!” Technoblade hastily adds. “If you were what Showfall created, you would be just like the employees: a blank slate for them to draw on,” He leans forward and gently grabs Charlie’s shoulders, forcing Charlie to look at Techno.

“You are your own person. You made yourself. All those days spent at Showfall as a child, when you were left alone. That made you. Yourself,”

Alex, Sneeg, Ranboo, and Charlie’s talking fades out as Lady Death smiles. It did turn out well. Phil was probably right when he said it would be fine. But Kristen didn’t regret it.

It made for a good story, did it not?

#gen loss #fandiction #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #ao3 author #ao3 writer #ao3fic #fanfiction #ranboolive #ranboo #sneegsnag #generation loss #charlie slimecicle

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askthepsychic · 9 months

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Mmm. Good training session. Nice to get back to regular training after all of that. Still, hope I’ll get another quality workout like helping to build that tower again sometime. Heh. A nice addition to Ponyville’s scenery too. Adds a bit of mystique. Hmm. Oh, sorry guys. Didn’t notice you had showed up. You transmitting already? Of course you are. Heh. You’re like a pack of gengar. Hey Tumblr. Rey here. Um. First off, I guess I should confess. As it turns out, when I told the others I had a theory about what was happening… I was wrong. I’ve already told them and explained my mistake. So basically what happened was that one of the spirits I helped was a little filly that reminded me of a little girl spirit I once had a dream about before I came here. Someone from my original world. I thought that it was maybe the same spirit that had been somehow transformed by crossing space times. Turns out that wasn’t the case at all. But that theory left me wondering if the huge boom in lost souls was actually ghost type Pokémon crossing into this world and transforming to be more compatible. I gotta say, I’m pretty happy I was wrong about that. Ghost types have always had a… questionable reputation. There has to be a reason for that, and I’d prefer this world wasn’t subjected to said reason. Not to mention I have a disadvantage against ghost types. Granted the moves I know could make up for it, but I’d rather not have to test it under duress. Anyways. Situation is resolved now. And I gotta say, despite the change involved in the solution, I’m super pleased with the result. Hehe. You have not seen a happy meeting until you’ve seen a young filly curious about her family history meeting her great great great great great grandmother for the first time. And if you’ve ever been on a family picnic, imagine sharing such with family members from ten or more generations ago. Heh. This is the world we live in now. The dead of long past visiting the living for massive family reunions and gatherings, not to mention just enjoying spending a day with their descendants. It’s… amazing. The happiness that has been born from our hardships. Of course, it’ll all slow down eventually. Right now, folks both alive and dead are caught up in the excitement of the new situation. Heh. Mom’s no exception either. And I really enjoyed our picnic with grandma Velvet and grandpa Night Light yesterday. Hehe. Even if they were trying a bit hard to make up for lost time embarrassing mom in front of me with stories of her childhood. Hmm. They didn’t even care that I’m a monster from another world either. They were fully eager to love me all the same. I could never have asked for better grandparents. Hm? Hehe. Speaking of. They’re coming this way now. They decided to spend a week with us. I guess it’s time for dinner. Proper nutrition is a key part of training too. Till next time everyone.

#askthepsychicofponyville #ask me anything #ask blog #original character #mlp #rey #Pokémon

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danganronpasurvivoraskblog · 8 months

Text

To Make a Difference: Part 1 [Beginning of Arc]

[Kuripa’s Apartment, 3¾ Years Ago]

I’m sorry for coming here so out of the blue...

No problem. Can I get you anything?

A soft drink please...I need sugar...bad...

*Kuripa grabs some energy drinks and slides Uchui his favorite. He grabs a pre-made cup of tea for himself.

Still can’t stand this stuff, huh?

Nah. Classic British cup o’ tea for me can keep me going.

You are the strangest nerd I’ve ever met, Kuripa. Usually, people like you would be chugging these things all night.

You’re one to talk. Don’t think I didn’t notice the bags under your eyes.

*sigh*

What’s up? Is it the new workspace? You finding it hard to fit in?

No, the new lab is fine. Thanks again for putting a good word in for me.

It’s just...about the research I’m conducting?

Oh. You mean this...interdimensional-travel thing, right?

Yes...That...Truth be told, I’m currently putting it all on a paper. Then, once I finish the entire project, I plan on unveiling it in front of a live audience.

Seriously!? You haven’t done that since school!

Yeah...and I barely scraped by then. The problem with having a talent like Theoretical Physicist is that ordinary people...don’t get it...Not even examiners. No way I would have been able to attend Hope’s Peak back in the good old days.

I wouldn’t exactly call the old Hope’s Peak, “The good old days...”

Fair point.

So how’s it all going?

It’s progressing...smoothly enough, but I feel like I’ve hit another wall...In regards to this...device thing...I mentioned.

You mean the one that you showed me where we looked into other universes and timelines?

No, not that one. The step up from that. The one that allows us to TRAVEL through universes.

And how can I help? You know I don’t understand this stuff as much as you do.

I know, I know, it’s just...I...need someone to talk this through with...And you’re basically the only person I’ve got...

Right...Well, ok then. Lay it on me.

Thank you.

*Uchui takes a big gulp of his drink.

To start with...I made a discovery last night that’s been keeping me up this whole time...I used my spyglass to find a new universe closely connected to ours. One in the distant future.

That’s pretty normal, isn’t it? What’s been eating you about this one?

...Because I saw a Killing Game on the other side.

...!?

A killing game? Like...a KILLING GAME killing game.

Yes. 16 students, all with Ultimate Talents, locked in an academy, forced to kill each other to escape.

This isn’t the first time I’ve seen such a thing, admittedly, but it’s the first time it had an impact on me. I looked deeper into that world and...found a horrible truth.

What?

This Killing Game took place in a reality where none of us are real. Instead, your boss, his friends, the people on Jabberwock Island and all that are part of a popular anime franchise called “Danganronpa”.

That’s a dumb name.

The name is not what’s important. I’ll cut to the chase.

The Killing Game I saw...was the fifty-third one...

MRGH!?

*Kuripa chokes on his tea.

Fi....FIFTY-THIRD!? How does that even-!? WHAT!?

That series got so popular that they busted out a new one every chance they got. And not only that, but society of that world became so obsessed with Danganronpa, that REAL PEOPLE started to be used, and killed, in the killing games.

The fuck is...what!? How is a series where people die horrible deaths so popular!?

I know, right!? It’s like if Dead Man’s Wonderland was a real thing!

I...Don’t get me wrong, I’ve seen some pretty horrible things...Some timelines where Junko Enoshima won, or others where disease spreads across the whole universe...Heh...I’ve even seen zombie apocalypse realities, believe it or not.

But this takes the cake...Something like this, so out of control, due to a worlds deception...These kids identities are erased and they’re turned into characters for entertainment...

And I just wish...I just wish I could do something...But they’re out of my reach.

Uchui...

Ignoring the fact that I’m freakishly weak on my own, even if I do find some way to go to that world and rescue those kids, the damage has already been done. There’s no saving a world like that...

But if I could just get these people away from it...That’d be enough.

You want to save them? What does that accomplish?

It accomplishes saving lives and...knowing I did something to help. But even now, maybe I’m a little too late for that...

I just...needed to get it off my chest...I hate the fact that no matter where I’ve look, I’ve yet to find a reality or world that isn’t cruel, bitter and painful...And that nobody can hope to fight against.

Such is the way of the world, I guess.

Not to be rude or anything buddy, but I think peeking in on these other worlds isn’t helping you. You say you feel helpless, but you’re still watching that suffering, cursing yourself.

It’s not good for your mental health.

You’re right...But at the same time, you’re one to talk about obsession over hopeless ideals.

Touché...

*He tips his mug.

Every different reality suffers from a different kind of pain. In this case, it’s a never-ending cycle of anarchy and death...It’s never going to stop because no one wants it to stop. So even if some of these kids survive that game, there’s no one they’ll be able to share their pain with.

Even if we were to find a way to take our world and bring it to theirs, and show them the reality of suffering because of Killing Games and despair...I don’t think that would be enough to stop this...And that’s what I ultimately realized.

Hm...And you’re sure there’s absolutely NOTHING you can do?

You already have the power to look in. Can’t you send a message or something to the participants?

Again, how does that help? They’re caught hook line and sinker in this game. Telling them the truth won’t stop things.

No matter how I look at this, anything I do that allows me to contact that other world from ours won’t yield any results. Plus, it’s impossible unless there’s a way for me to get out safely on the other side, much less several people.

And I’m guessing the Uchui Porosen of that reality never existed?

Mm-hm...The real people who get put in the Killing Game are given false histories and fake Ultimate Talents. If that reality did have an Uchui, he never achieved anything I did.

Hm...Hang on a second though.

What’s up?

You said that unless there was a way to safely receive yourself, you couldn’t travel there. And that the Uchui of that reality never really had any talents, right?

That’s right.

The Uchui of THIS world, DOES have talents, and is a pretty genius physicist.

D-Don’t butter me up.

So...why don’t you look at it from another angle?

Instead of focusing on bringing our reality to that world...Why not bring THAT world HERE?

...What?

I mean...Here’s how I look at it. You said that you felt powerless because you can’t

Let’s say, hypothetically, you found a way to grab the people stuck in this Killing Game, and bring them over here. Not only could you save them and give them a chance at new life, but no participants means no Killing Game!

...That’s...True...But then I wouldn’t be able to send them back...At least not right now.

Why would you want to send them back? You said yourself there’s nothing left for them...

...Kuripa...That’s...

INGENIOUS!

It is!?

YES! And no doubt in my mind I could make it work!

It’s not exactly what I want, or what I’m aiming for, but it’s a step in the right direction!

Ooh! I need to plan! I need to hurry and write this down somewhere!? I need to calculate risks, and time management...Ooh, I’m not gonna be sleeping tonight!

Normally I’d try to stop you, given that you’ve already been pulling all-nighters, but I know what you’re like when you’re on this type of high.

Oh...sorry...It’s just, I can’t believe I didn’t see it before! You’ve helped me make a major breakthrough!

Nah, it was just an idle suggestion. I didn’t think too hard about it.

I knew it would be a good idea bringing this to you. Thank you Kuripa! I owe you for this!

*Uchui gets up and rushes out as soon as he arrived.

*sigh*

#danganronpa survivor #danganronpa #oc #kuripa kurafto #uchui porosen #story chapter #the day the world stood still arc

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