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juniorgman187 · 4 years ago

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Malchance (Reid Fic) - Part 2

Summary: The only thing reader can count on is her bad luck and what it’ll get her into. In this case, it’s the lioness’ den - the lioness being Cat Adams.

Category: Angst, Fluffy Ending Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Content Warning: Canon-consistent trauma, brief mention of daddy issues, blood, manipulation, yelling, deceit (Let me know if I missed anything) Playlist: Call Out My Name by The Weeknd Word Count: 5k

READ PART 1 HERE!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　

“There’s going to be a key to cracking Cat,” Ms. Prentiss explained to me.

“A key?”

“You’ll know it when you find it.”

That was probably the most ambiguous advice I could’ve gotten, but it’s the one she sent me into the field with and the one that loomed in the back of my head as everything unfolded.

The plan the team and I agreed upon, which ironically Dr. Reid knew no part of, was that after Cat and him went to the rink, they’d come back to his apartment, where I would be waiting. Posing as his concerned girlfriend, the unexpected presence of competition would enrage Cat. With the wrath of a woman scorned, she’ll be furious enough to slip up and make a mistake.

I’ve heard that she’s done her best, or arguably her worst, when she’s prepared, so this curveball might just put an end to the reign of Queen Cat.

As far as the outlined plan of events went, sure, it was simple. As for me?

No shot in hell that I’d be able to pull this off.

There was seemingly no feasible reality where I could outsmart her until she made a mistake or keep on the facade long enough to deceive her. The entire success of the plan hinged on my abilities or her lack of propriety. Not exactly betting odds, if you ask me.

And yet, against everything, I was still walking into the lion’s den on my own volition, making myself right at home, acting like this was exactly where I belonged. When in reality, this was the last place I should’ve been.

“You got this, okay?” Someone in my earpiece chirped. Just out of paranoia, I pressed the device further in, un-tucking the strands of hair behind my ear to better conceal it. Even that wasn’t enough to lower the specter of my doubt. I prayed that she was lax in her vetting tonight.

“Spencie!” A giggly shriek from outside the door sent one large shock wave through my entire body. It was so sharp like they were right there. The sound of heavy footsteps followed, and my stomach churned in anticipation. I already hated this.

How did I even get here?

Oh, right - malchance.

I contemplated cracking my knuckles to self-soothe, but then I remembered what Ms. Prentiss told me about ‘tells.’

“Bodily tells are how people can read the emotions you’re not directly expressing. A majority of what profilers use to study behavior is your body language. Unfortunately, some of the best profilers are the unsubs themselves. She’ll know what you’re feeling if you show her. So stay strong.”

Stay strong.

Try as I might, I couldn’t keep the fear from washing over me when the pair of muffled voices outside became clearer as they entered the apartment.

I must’ve caught them in the middle of something, but I couldn’t exactly deduce what, seeing as they stopped when they saw me, which was before I turned around.

Dr. Reid was floored by my being there, but at least, he had a look of recognition. It wasn’t enough that he merely distinguished me to settle the worry I had about the fact that the BAU hadn’t told him I would be here. If I could, I would have, but they each advised against it. They needed his raw reaction just as much as they needed her’s.

One ghastly look up and down and I could tell she came to the exact conclusion the team anticipated she would - that I’m her new competition.

“Spencie - who is this?”

Her dehumanization of me made Dr. Reid viscerally guilty for having extended an opportunity to let yet another person suffer the corollaries of her cruelty. He shook his head softly at me as though to say, ‘I’m sorry.’ An interesting choice - that that was what he chose to nonverbally say to me first. He didn’t even ask me with his eyes why I was here or what I was doing - he just apologized.

What has this poor man been through?

“I’m his girlfriend,” I answered for him before the silence could get suspiciously long. By inserting myself in the conversation, I was following what the BAU suggested I should do earlier. Stand your ground. You can’t be afraid to speak up to her. “I’m (y/n). You are?”

I held out my hand for a handshake that was never returned. Instead, all I got back was an ice cold stare.

She’s reading your body language, an inner voice I didn’t even recognize called from within me. Soon after I realized it wasn’t my conscience speaking - it was Ms. Prentiss. I’d forgotten I had an earpiece, much less that there were micro cameras littered all over the apartment so they could have a firsthand view of this train wreck. How could anyone voluntarily watch this mess unravel?

“And when did this happen?” Her voice went up an octave as she tilted her head with morbid curiosity, then let it roll back in Dr. Reid’s direction. “Spencer?”

“Five months ago,” he replied without missing a beat, keeping his eyes steady on mine. If I hadn’t known any better, I would’ve believed him, but that stare he was giving me said something more. What’s going on? He wondered.

Oh, Dr. Reid, if only I could tell you.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a girlfriend?” She asked through gritted teeth and a clenched jaw. Suddenly, the surface of her expressions liquified then melted away until I could see well beneath the anger, revealing the bodily tells of humiliation.

I was profiling her, and I didn’t even know that I could.

“You made me promise not to talk about anyone else except you tonight, remember?” He remarked with an uncharacteristic amount of edge behind his words.

His outer mask was liquefying and transforming in its own right, too. As Cat became easier to read, the Doctor was slowly morphing into the man I first met - the man who was furious enough to throw an entire set of books off a table. The man who’s darkness made him impossible to read - made it impossible to think he’d ever been seen or touched by the light.

She huffed and spun her head around so fast, it made her hair whip up and over her shoulder. The stern look upon her face fell for the briefest moment, and if it hadn’t been for everything I knew about her, I would’ve thought she looked pretty. She was pretty. But her soul, her sensibilities, they just ruined her. It was a shame really.

She was tainted by wickedness in a way that I never would be, and for that, she had already come to the decisive determination that she hated me.

“So how old are you, (y/n)?” Like a hawk hovering over its prey, she began to walk around me in a tight circle so she could scrutinize my every angle, discover every flaw, and poke at every button she could find. Precisely why she asked that question, too. She wanted to know where the similarities started and ended between us. She wanted to compare herself to me. Size me up, tear me down - lioness v. lioness. If she was gonna play dirty, then so be it. Two can play that game.

“I’m 28.” A flat out lie. I’m 26.

“Wow, I didn’t realize you had a type, Spencer,” She ruefully chuckled.

“And what’s that, Cat?” I couldn’t see him, but he sounded so unamused.

“Jailbait.”

There wasn’t much I could do besides move on from the subject. “Cat? Is it?” Considering she hadn’t told me her name before, I think Dr. Reid purposefully included it in his response so that I’d have a reason to know what it was.

Smart move, Doctor.

I wanted to smile from the way he was helping me out and working together with me, but my poker face stayed on.

“Catherine Adams,” She drew out the name to assert herself. I didn’t get to call her Cat like Dr. Reid did. That was his name for her and his name only. She made that point crystal clear. When I finally shrugged, she pounced once more.

“You really have no idea who I am? I’m hurt.” She fake pouted and put a hand to her heart to feign offense. “Spencer’s never mentioned me? Not once in your five months of dating?” Her emphasis on the timing of our ‘relationship’ showed her knowledge of the deceit, but she needed to do more than just put stress on one word. I wouldn’t back down that easily.

“Why would he? You mean nothing to us.” Nastier words have never left my lips, and yet, I still made sure they were coated in the harshest tone I could muster up the courage to use.

She scoffed and stopped walking around me to pull on Dr. Reid’s arm and force her mouth to make contact with his ear. Despite the closeness, he still refused to meet her eyes. He kept them locked on mine.

“I mean nothing to you? Is that so?” Her breath was a jarring enough sensation on his neck to make his eyes shut. He was beyond uncomfortable. “Why don’t you go ahead and tell her what you told me at the rink?”

“What did you tell her, Spencer?” I was forcing him to speak, not because of the case, but because I wanted to know. Was that wrong?

“I …” The words got caught in his throat. “I told her that there’s some part of my brain, some part that she somehow inhabits.”

A pang in my chest told me there was still more. That pang would be correct.

“No, go ahead, Spencie. Tell her the rest. Don’t be shy now.”

He forced himself to look away from me as he said, “And no woman, no matter how good, no matter how kind, no matter how …”

“Say it,” She demanded, firmly tugging on his arm harder.

“No matter how sexy she is, can ever get her out.” He looked repulsed by his own admission, and if I was being honest, so was I.

“Are you in love with her?” Although I was venturing far off script, it felt like an appropriate response as his ‘girlfriend.’ It was my response.

“No. I’ve never loved anyone the way I loved you.”

He’s such a pretty liar.

Cat must’ve been annoyed by her lack of involvement in the conversation as she felt compelled to step in. “Prove it. Kiss her like you kissed me out there and I might believe you.”

Pretending to be hurt wasn’t hard. Not when I didn’t have to pretend.

“You kissed her, too?” I had to ask.

Imagine if I were actually this poor guy’s girlfriend. Forget me - God help that girl. Even if this was all for the sake of the job, that wouldn’t have made it any better hearing what he’d confessed to her or what they did.

Dr. Reid looked incredibly apologetic for someone that had nothing to apologize for. Sure, I was playing his girlfriend, but I wasn’t actually anyone of value in his life. So why did he look like he felt so goddamn guilty?

“Ugh hurry up and kiss already!” Cat stomped her foot impatiently.

As she released Dr. Reid, she gave him a strong shove in my direction, causing him to stumble right into me. He’d caught himself by grabbing onto my hips, while I stabilized him by clutching onto his forearms.

His eyes were piercing through mine. I won’t kiss you unless I have your permission. His eyes read.

Fighting against every reflex in my body that was resisting, I leaned closer. Then, right as I closed my eyes, I felt it.

Not his lips.

Blood.

My blood.

The coin-like taste shocked my eyes wide open so fast you would think I never even closed them in the first place. Abandoning my grip on his arm, I used my hand to block the sight of my bloody nose.

(Y/n), what’s going on? Ms. Prentiss asked in my earpiece.

“My nose is bleeding,” was my answer for everyone listening - Dr. Reid, Cat, and the BAU alike.

“Are you alright?” He unhesitatingly shifted out of the role he seemed to be playing. His guard fell down to the point where it felt like nothing else mattered but to know that I was okay. It wasn’t Spencer and his fake girlfriend talking anymore, it was Dr. Reid and me again.

“HELLO?! What’s going on?” The minute Cat’s shrilly voice hit the air, Dr. Reid shut it down with a steadfast hand.

“Not now, Cat! Time out.” He motioned a T before he let an invisible magnetic force freely connect his hands onto my hips again. It seemed like he didn’t even touch me on his own accord but instead, it was the mere gravitational pull that brought his body back to mine. “This isn’t a game anymore.” His tone was unwavering as he walked me away from Cat and into the bathroom.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He whispered in a familiar tone after shutting the bathroom door behind himself. “You can leave now. You don’t have to keep doing this.” As though I were his grandmother’s delicate china, he hoisted me in the air momentarily to help me onto the sink with an almost unnecessarily large amount of caution.

“I’m fine.” While I attempted to wave off his concern nonchalantly, traitorous butterflies swarmed my stomach at the feeling of his touch.

“Don’t tell me you’re fine!” He scolded through an outpouring of laughter. “I can see the blood!” He underlined his words by pressing the toilet paper he retrieved on the spot under my nose where the blood was centralized.

“Then don’t ask!” I just as playfully responded.

“Alright, fine, fine,” He jokingly put his hands up in surrender. “What should I ask you then?”

I wish I was more uncomfortable than I truly was. Maybe then it would’ve been easier to lie to him. But there was something about how close he was to me or how unrelenting his stare was that made sincerity spill out from my every seam.

“‘Why are you even here if you’re just ruining things?’”

He looked so hurt despite the fact that the depreciation was directed at me. “Why would I ask you that?”

“Because it’s true, isn’t it?” My eyes flashed to the door to ensure it was closed, but without the ability to guarantee that Cat wasn’t right outside listening in, I lowered my voice. “I’m way in over my head here. I have no idea what I’m doing and I feel like I’m just making things worse.”

“None of that is true,” It sounded like a reprimand, the way he was defending me to me. “The team wouldn’t have asked you to be here if they didn’t think you could do it … and anyway, it’s kind of nice having a partner in crime.”

He needed to watch his step before he began charting dangerous waters from which he could never escape. I was already playing with fire by allowing any real genuine emotion seep out around Cat. Except now that he’d thrown me a lifeline with his insinuation of liking my company, I knew, at least to some degree, that the feeling was mutual. I briefly calculated the risk until I ultimately decided to let my boldness rear its ugly head.

With the speed of light, I clicked off my earpiece with one hand and turned off Spencer’s with the other. He caught my wrist only after I’d successfully disabled the devices from allowing the team to hear us and us to hear them.

“What are you doing?” “Why didn’t you kiss me?”

Our questions came at the exact same time, and yet I didn’t repeat myself.

I knew he heard me.

It was out of turn for me, given that I’d only briefly calculated the risk of asking this before doing it. It came out suddenly and then I couldn’t take it back. But I blame his gaze for my oversharing. It brought me so much comfort that I failed to recognize the discomfort my question had posed.

He sort of laughed, saying, “Your nose was bleeding.”

Under any other circumstance, I would have believed him. Unfortunately, he was exceptionally unconvincing, precisely because he didn’t look very sure of that explanation himself.

While I’m sure my nose bleeding was a reason not to kiss me, it was most definitely not the reason. My honesty itself felt something like a nose bleed. For one thing, it annoyed me and was beyond my control. But for another, I wished I could find the source and pinch it off to make it stop. Stop it before I spilled out the words, “Oh, I get it ... you just didn’t want to kiss me.”

“That was definitely not the problem,” He said a little too quickly and a little too adamantly that it made my head spin. In that response - he sounded very sure of himself, a complete contrast to his previous demeanor.

“So why didn’t you?” I wish I could tell you why I was pressing the subject so hard. I’d like to think that if you were in my position, you’d want to know the answer as badly as I do now, which is the best rationale I could possibly come up with to justify what I said next.

“If you weren’t scared and if you didn’t not want to, then why didn’t you?”

“(Y/n),” He averted my eyes by turning his head to the side, revealing a side smirk of contempt. I should’ve been mad that he was visibly frustrated because if anything - he was the one being frustrating. Instead, all I could think about was how I wanted to kiss that smirky mouth. Maybe to make the smirky-ness disappear. Or to control it.

Make it mine.

“You’re running out of excuses, Dr. Reid. You’re going to have to kiss me eventually, so let’s just get this over with already.” Did I really just say that?

“I’m not gonna do that.”

“Kiss me!” Yes, I really did.

“I’m not going to kiss you.”

“Just kiss me!”

“(Y/n), stop.”

“God, Spencer, just kiss me already!”

“No!” His eyes found me again; This time they were wider. “Not like this!”

Silence.

Then he cleared his throat as if they’d somehow cover the confession that had already been said.

“Not - I didn't mean - I just. We can't like that because that's not … do you know? Like it's very ... that's not what-" He continued to stammer until he mouthed one last “What?” to himself in complete disbelief of the words that had left his lips and the words that were still struggling to.

Our brains must’ve been working at the exact same speed because while he couldn’t find the right words to say, I was still trying to process everything he already had.

Without waiting for my response, he fled from the bathroom. When the door slammed shut, I whipped my body around to face the mirror, my fist tingling with the urge to punch the stupid girl staring back at me in the reflection.

I knew I couldn’t take refuge in here for much longer unless I really wanted to piss Cat off. Which I totally did, but not if I couldn’t guarantee that Spencer wouldn’t be caught in the crossfire. As confused and pissed off as he made me, I never wanted to hurt him.

Once this realization dawned on me, another one had followed.

This was the key to cracking Cat. I’d found it.

Like an overexcited bull bursting through the gates, I pushed my way out of the bathroom door seeing red. I saw Spencer first, standing in the corner of the room to monitor Cat from a distance. The aforementioned lioness herself was perched in an armchair, slouching in it comfortably as though she’d sat in that very seat a hundred times before. Not a single display of care in her conduct for the people whose lives she was actively trying to ruin.

“So you finally ready to kiss your boyfriend yet?” If sarcasm were a liquid, it’d be dripping from her lips. She was so casually destructive when she spoke, like a loose-lipped bomb capable of going off at any minute but deliberately delaying the blow until it was guaranteed to wreak the most havoc on the most number of people. Seeing her in that light only made things easier.

“Forget the kiss, Cat. In fact, forget Spencer all together,” I waved my hand in his general direction behind me. Like him, I was standing, giving me all the power I needed to assert myself effectively. “It’s just you and me now. Exactly what you’ve wanted since the minute you stepped in here.”

She laughed ruefully, if only to make me insecure. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you scoped me out. You were doing that to figure out how alike we are, right?”

She straightened a little more to sit up in her chair. She was hooked. “Why would I want to do that?”

With my right foot, I swiped the foot rest out from underneath her legs, making her feet fall flat against the floor. Caught off guard by my swift movement, her upper body hurled forward while I took my seat on the foot rest, placing me directly across from her.

It wasn’t for a lack of dominance that I sat down. No, it was that I knew I had power over her, and I didn’t need to stand up anymore to prove it.

“Feel free to stop me when I’m wrong,” I told her emphatically, knowing that would never happen.

“You have always wanted Spencer. That’s just a fact. But deep down, you know he’s never truly wanted you. Sure, maybe he likes, even loves, the allure of your forbidden connection, but he doesn’t like or love you. And now that I’m here, the person he claims he loves in a way he’s never loved anyone before, you want to know just how similar we are. Because the more similarities you find between us, the more it kills you inside to wonder why he would love me over you if we’re practically the same. But you’ve only judged me from the outside, and we both know looks only go so far. So I’ll make it easier for you, Cat. I’ll tell you anything you want to know that way you can come up with an answer to the question you’ve been asking yourself the entire night: ‘Why her and not me?’”

She couldn’t pretend to be unfazed anymore. I had moved her beyond that. She was finally starting to react.

“You would only be this confident if you already knew the answer to that question.” She concluded through gritted teeth. Her body was shaking all over, like the rage inside of her was boiling and her body was the feverish, bubbling water. “Do you know the answer?”

I had nothing to hide. “Yes, I do.”

“Tell me!” She threw down an iron fist against the top of her thigh. “Tell me what the answer is.”

“You have more confidence in my answer than you’re ability to figure it out yourself? Come on, Cat. You couldn’t have gotten this far without your intelligence.”

“I don’t want to figure it out. I want you to tell me.” Her fist clamped around itself harder.

“You don’t trust yourself to ask the right questions?”

“Just. Tell. Me.” Jaw clench.

“Alright, I’ll give you one similarity to start. We both have daddy issues-”

“I don’t care! Just give me the answer.” Foot tapping.

“My grandma used to call my dad a ‘Bastard’ in French actually -”

“Tell me!” Bodily tell after bodily tell, and I knew, I had done it.

I beat the betting odds.

“Fine, Cat. I’ll tell you what it is,” I had her undivided attention, and if I had eyes at the back of my head, I’d see I had Spencer’s, too.

“The fundamental difference between you and me is that no matter what - I would never, ever, do anything to hurt Spencer. I have no compulsion to hurt him as a way to assert power over him or to make him fall at my feet. I can do that without ever having to go to the lengths that you’ve gone to. The power you wield over him is borne from a long-standing vendetta, whereas the power I wield, I resist using against him for revenge because that is what a morally sane person does. While I use my influence to help Spencer believe that he is a good person worthy of good treatment, you are constantly trying to prove that he is a bad person deserving of bad treatment. That he is anything like you.”

Her eyes just barely starting to water marked the last semblance of emotion I’d seen from Cat before the team swarmed the apartment and whisked her away. Then, the proverbial veneer of her mask had glazed back over her face, never to come off again.

As Luke escorted her out in handcuffs, she gave me one last look over her shoulder.

“How did you know about my dad?”

You might think I slipped up when I told Cat that we were similar because of our daddy issues, therefore accidentally revealing that I knew more about Cat’s backstory than I led on, but that was purely by design. I had done that with the specific intention of setting this exact moment in motion.

This moment where she would recognize that she’d overlooked my ‘mistake’ because of her lack of propriety. This moment where she would have to face the fact that she’d been deceived and outsmarted by me.

This moment that she would think about until the day that needle went into her arm - the moment she realized - she let me win.

_ _ _

As twisted as it may seem, the end to the reign of Queen Cat called for celebration. Penelope - she told me to call her that and not Ms. Garcia - had prepared cocktails galore in the round table room, which I’d actually been invited to enter this time.

“You exceeded any expectations we had. The best we could’ve hoped for was no casualties, so I’m thrilled with the way things turned out tonight, and we couldn’t have done it without you,” Ms. Prentiss pulled me aside to say. “If you want it, there’s a spot waiting for you here on the team, and I really think you should consider taking it.”

To her proposal, I said I’d have to think about it, given that I’d hate to bestow my bad luck upon the team, but after tonight, I was about ready to declare my malchance a thing of the past.

At this rate, I couldn’t distinguish whether I was dizzy from the alcohol coursing through my bloodstream or the job promotion from Secretary to Supervisory Special Agent. In any event, I knew I needed air. I slipped out of the conference room, past the glass doors of the bullpen, and waited patiently for the elevator.

I must’ve caught Spencer after coming back from his ride with Cat to the prison because when the elevator doors opened, he was standing just on the other side of them, looking lost in thought.

“Oh, hi!” I chirped, realizing then that he and I hadn’t said a word to each other since the “Kiss Me Bathroom Incident.”

“Hey,” he called back, his voice already sounding unfamiliar after its lack of use towards me.

“Long time no see,” I joked to first lighten the air that seemed heavy between us. “I was just going to go down to get some fresh air.”

“I’ll join you.”

Because I hadn’t expected him to say that, I fumbled awkwardly into the tiny space that seemingly got smaller by the second, especially now that he was filling the space with me.

The silence was a little too suffocating for my taste, and I couldn’t afford to have my breath be any more restricted by that than it already was being in this slender cage next to Spencer. Just to occupy the absence, I started rambling. “You know I was thinking -”

No sooner did I start speaking than my words were cut off by the sweet, sweet shut of my mouth because of Spencer’s. His lips wholly encompassed mine just as his hands did to my face. I was surrounded by him and for that my breath had truly been taken away this time, but in the absolute best ways possible.

There was simply no air.

His ivy-like enclosure around me somehow made the claustrophobic elevator expand. Or maybe it felt like it had fallen away entirely. Nothing else around. Just us.

His hands moved wherever they pleased and I followed suit, letting my hands go where they wished, never staying stationary in one place for too long.

I had to feel him everywhere. Filling everything.

He’d pulled away first, biting my bottom lip with blunt teeth to take me with him, and then he forced my lip in its place by kissing it back, pushing his lips impossibly closer like he wasn’t close enough. He wasn’t just trying to restore my bottom lip, but rather fuse ours together forever.

He pulled away for real this time but not far. His face and mine were centimeters apart, our breathes mixing in the microscopic air betwixt us.

Still breathless, he rasped, “I meant something like that.”

Now, I can say with absolute certainty that my malchance was a thing of the past.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　

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#spencer reid #Spencer Reid fic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds angst #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #juniorgman187 #malchance #malchance pt 2

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apiratewhopines · 4 years ago

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Look at the mesmerizing artwork by @teamhook. Can you spot the villain of this little story?

In the Offing

Chapter 18 — The Stable Boy

Summary: In which our heroine misplaces something

Chapter 18 on AO3

“A guilty conscience means at least you’ve got one

Who will forgive you when I’m gone?”

-Here He Comes, The Wallflowers

“That went further than I intended,” Killian whispered against her throat. She could feel his smile against the sensitive skin and knew that while his words sounded like the beginning of an apology, it was really more of an observation on their current status. Their completely unclothed, totally sated status.

“Hmm, there is something about the motion of the water,” Emma said by way of agreement. She was lazily running her fingers through his mussed hair, appreciating the way the thick, short locks felt silky in her hands. His laughter rumbled through his chest and she gave in to the temptation to run her fingers through the hair there as well.

“I’ll make a pirate out of you yet, Swan.”

“Well, I need to do something special for a man who would trade a secluded afternoon with the most famous actress in the world to spend time with his unknown, magnet-for-trouble house guest.”

She should get up. Lord only knew if there were locks on the door or if they could be interrupted. However, she wasn’t lying about the sensation of being lulled to sleep by the waves. Although sleep was the furthest thing from her mind a few minutes ago.

“House guest? Is that the label we’re going with? How about girlfriend? Lover? Angel? Magnificent creature?” He punctuated each question with a nuzzle against a different section of exposed flesh. “Besides, I am a seafaring man and all sailors know that it’s bad luck to have a redhead on board. Thank goodness I didn’t have to take her out on the open seas. You may never have seen me again.”

“That would have been a shame. I do enjoy seeing you. The more of you, the better.” She allowed her hands to wander over the expanse of skin on display, thankful that the afternoon was warm since there was only one sheet and their picnic blanket from the other day to cover up with. Her eyes had drifted closed during their idle exchange but she cracked open her left to look at him as she felt the bed shift under his movements. He had propped himself up on his elbow and was resting on his side. She was surprised to see his expression had turned serious. “What’s on your mind?”

“I think it’s time we talk. I like the odds of you staying put since you’re naked,” he added with some of his usual swagger.

“If you’re ready,” she told him. Reaching up to cradle his face in her hands, she knew that nothing he said would make any difference to her. She was too far gone already. The only possible outcome was she would fall deeper under his spell. “No matter what, I’m not going anywhere.”

“You don’t know what those words mean to me, love.” He pressed a forceful kiss to her lips and returned to his earlier position. His eyes focused out the window and glazed over as he became lost in his memories. When he spoke, his voice had deepened with emotion. “Liam and I moved here a decade ago with one purpose and one purpose only: To find Frederick’s bloody treasure trove. There was nothing for us in England, hadn’t been in years really. I was graduating and Liam was finishing up his enlistment with the Navy. To my surprise, he didn’t doubt for a moment my claims that I could find our fortune on the rocky beaches of Maine. So off we went without a backward glance at the shores of our ancestors.”

She could imagine a younger Killian, full of life and confidence, pulling along his older, more seasoned brother. After all, no one was more jaded than her and she was already prepared to follow him to the ends of the earth.

“It took us more time to find the pub in Storybrooke than it did to find the first treasure hoard. Oh, Emma, I wish you could have been there.” His grin was something that belonged on a schoolboy’s face, not a man in his mid-thirties. Unable to help herself, she reached up and traced it with her fingertips. He captured her wayward digits and pressed a heartfelt kiss to the tips. “Most pirate treasure was in the form of goods like timber, cotton, sugar, or tobacco. But good old Frederick didn’t disappoint. There was enough silver to make us wealthy even by today’s standards. There were some interesting historical bits as well that will one day find their way into a museum but I won’t bore you with those details.”

“Such a gentleman,” she murmured with a chuckle. “What did you do with it? Aren’t you supposed to alert the authorities when you find stuff like that?”

“I want to be a better man for you, Swan, but I will never be a saint. We haven’t disclosed any of our findings. We simply dip in when we need something extra. Some day we’ll let it see the light of day but for now it rests in Davy Jones’ locker.”

“Wait, I know that one. You mean it’s hidden under the sea?”

“No, we put it in my grandfather’s old locker and buried it under the cottage. It’s the only thing my father left behind when he abandoned us all those years ago.” When she rolled her eyes at him, he simply chuckled. “But to answer your question, the laws vary by state and country. Maine is actually quite lenient with their buried treasure as long as it isn’t found on state property. Luckily, two of the piles we found were on my land at the cottage. Technically, I didn’t own the land when I found the first one but it was under contract. I quickly remedied that and it was all above board when I found the second stash a few days later. That one had more coins and a few loose gemstones.”

“Gemstones?” Visions of The Goonies filled Emma’s mind and she had to stop herself from asking about One-Eyed Willy. Because, as fantastical as it seemed, the man who held her heart in his hands also had a knack for finding buried treasure. A gift she hoped he would survive considering someone out there desperately wanted to get their hands on it.

“Yes, darling,” he answered. “I think several have your name on them.”

“No way,” she argued. “I don’t want any of it. What if it’s cursed?”

“Cursed, you say?” He looked thoughtful as the sunlight was momentarily blocked by an errant storm cloud outside. “Yes, I suppose that may be true. Shortly after I uncovered the third pile, I went to the Rabbit Hole to celebrate my victory. Liam had just met Elsa so I was on my own for the most part those days. Not that it mattered, you know how this town takes to new people so I never lacked companionship for a drink or...whatever.”

“Whatever, indeed,” Emma teased in her best impression of his accent. She sensed he was coming to the part of his story that was the most difficult to relay and tried to infuse some humor into the conversation.

With a rueful grin that acknowledged her effort, both with the accent and the humor, he continued. “I met Milah that night. She was a sight to behold in the dim light of the bar, vibrant in a way that seemed too much for this little town.” He narrowed his eyes as they made contact with hers. “I didn’t know at first that she was married. Lads of twenty-four aren’t known for pumping the brakes when a beautiful woman gives them nothing but green lights and I was no different. Honestly, I was probably worse. I was a rash young man far from home and high on my own cleverness. It never occurred to me to question my good fortune or wonder why no one else was vying for her attention.”

“How far gone were you when you found out the truth?”

“Completely,” he confessed with a shaky breath. “The fight we had when I found out, well, it would have melted paint off the walls. I was a dirty little secret, the younger man who captured her attention but not her affections. It was always like that with her. She was so restless. Always moving, always searching. Nothing was ever enough. It took me a long time to realize that I wasn’t enough either. She wanted someone to rescue her from a life of boredom, someone who would carry her away and show her the world and fill her days with adventures. I couldn’t be that for her but I nearly destroyed myself trying to be.”

He was lost in the past, his eyes distant and filled with pain. Reliving the end of the most meaningful relationship of your life wasn’t easy, Emma definitely understood that. Especially when you gave all you had to it and it still collapsed in pieces around you.

“Her husband came to visit me one night toward the end. Offered me money to break it off,” he scoffed as if the idea still insulted him. “I refused of course, convinced he was the villain in our little drama and that I would win the heart of the fair maiden in the end. At it turned out, I was wrong on both counts. The villain was the fair maiden. Mr. Gold and I were both pawns in her scheme to escape a life she hated. When she had the opportunity, she took the money and ran. In my kinder moments, I feel sorry for her knowing she must have felt trapped. But then I remember the way the whole town thought I killed her and any kindness I’m able to scare up disappears. Just like she did.”

“You’ve never heard from her? You have no idea what happened to her?”

“No. When it ended, it ended badly. She wanted me to take her husband’s money so we could leave town together, was angry when I refused to be chased off into the night. It was then that I realized she didn’t care who she was with, as long as she wasn’t in Storybrooke. It was a tough blow to stomach. I only saw her one time after that, a couple of nights before she disappeared. She showed up at the cottage to apologize. Told me she would never regret our relationship but it was time to move on. She left the map as a parting gift. I knew then that she meant to leave. Make no mistake, Emma, Milah is alive and well somewhere on this globe, living her life to the fullest and not sparing a thought for anyone in this town.”

“Then her absence is no great loss,” she observed.

He shook his head slowly as if he wasn’t sure he agreed with her assessment. “The day after she stopped by for the last time was when I pulled my idiotic stunt. I got drunk and tried to sail directly into a Nor’easter. Liam caught me at the docks and insisted on coming with me when he couldn’t talk me out of leaving. Our boat capsized about a mile up the coast. I’m only glad I was able to pull him to shore.”

“You saved his life? One-handed in a gale?”

With a bitter twist of his lips, he bit out, “Not sure you’ll allowed to claim such a thing when the only reason a person was in danger in the first place is because of you. He was trapped under the broken mast. I’m still not sure how I got him out but I crushed my hand in the process. Got a pretty nasty infection and the doctors told me the hand couldn’t be saved and if I wasn’t lucky, I’d lose the arm too. Seemed like a no-brainer.”

She felt the tension gripping him and trailed her hands down his left arm, running her fingers over the smooth scars she felt there. He didn’t pull away but he didn’t relax either. “We’re all scarred in one way or another, Killian. Yours are a bit more on display than the average person but this shows that you are a survivor. I’m beginning to think it might be a bad idea for me to find Milah. She has a lot to answer for.”

“You know, I’ve tried to track her down but I’m afraid I don’t have your abilities at finding those who don’t wish to be found. I thought I had tracked her to Paris a few years ago, there was a new artist there that had her style of sketching but I could never be sure and they disappeared before I could make contact. I still have a file on my desktop with the various artwork I found in the gallery catalogues. I always thought I’d pick up the search again later.”

A little afraid to hear his answer, she nevertheless asked, “Why do you want to find her?”

“At first, I missed her. I wanted to hear her voice. Pathetic, right?” When Emma simply gave him a look that clearly disagreed, he smiled at her. “Hmm, my secretly romantic Swan. You have a tender heart that I adore but don’t worry, I won’t let anyone know.” He looked at her with such fondness that she was tempted to go for round two right then. However, on some level, she knew this conversation was more important than their physical connection.

Unaware of her thoughts, he admitted, “Lately I’ve wanted closure. Not for the relationship. It’s been dead and gone for years. For the case, in order to clear my name. I’ve done a lot of things that I’m not particularly proud of since I arrived here but I would like any doubt removed about this crime.”

“If you don’t mind sharing, perhaps we can find her together,” she offered shyly.

“Emma, everything I have is yours,” Killian told her. With a laugh he added, “Including the gold bars I found in the third treasure hoard I uncovered.” Taking her in his arms, he held her as they laid in the Captain’s Quarters in peaceful silence.

—

The rain that had threatened in the afternoon made good on its promise by the time they arrived back at the cottage with carryout from the pizza place. Fortunately, it was the kind of summer rain that moved through quickly and left the air feeling crisp and clean.

After her third slice of pepperoni, Emma leaned back in the patio chair and sighed. “I’m supposed to meet Graham tonight to search the woods. I guess I should head back to Mary Margaret’s place eventually anyway.”

With a quizzical look, Killian took a sip of his iced tea. “A date with another man and moving out? Have I done something to offend you?”

“Very funny,” she retorted. “I think we’ve gotten things a little out of order but there’s no reason to rush into this.”

“Darling, we have already fallen headfirst into the fast lane. There’s no reason to get scared now. Besides, I happen to know that David and Mary Margaret have reached the toothbrush phase of their relationship. You will be taking your sanity into your own hands if you head back there tonight. David is a loud...sleeper.”

“I don’t even want to know how you know that,” Emma said with a shiver of disgust. “Fine, I guess I’ll have to stay with you for the foreseeable future. If you don’t have any other plans, you can also join me on my date. We’re looking for bodies in the woods.”

With a grimace, Killian studied her profile. “Okay but only if I get to plan our next outing. A man likes some mystery in a relationship but dead bodies are a little overboard.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Dr. Jones.”

Forewarned about the activities for the evening consisting mainly of traversing hilly, overgrown terrain, Emma did a better job of dressing the part. Outfitted with flashlights from Killian’s emergency kit, she knew if the search lasted beyond the light of the midsummer sun they wouldn’t injure themselves in the dark at least.

Arriving at the Sheriff’s station shortly thereafter, Emma was surprised to find it empty and unlocked. Since another brief summer rain was moving through town, she texted Graham and they decided to wait it out at the station. Twenty minutes later, the rain was over but she still hadn’t heard from the sheriff. “That’s weird. He’s usually better about replying.”

“Text him a lot, do you?”

With a amused shake of her head, she admonished him. “Now is not the time to be jealous, Killian. He’s a friend and, unless I’m mistaken, he’s your friend too.”

“He’s not an enemy,” Killian conceded grudgingly. With a hint of teasing, he said, “But perhaps he is competition.” He moved around the station nonchalantly as if he might find the sheriff under a pile of papers or resting in one of the cells at the back of the open room.

With a deep breath, she walked over to him and linked her arms around his neck. “Not in my eyes. I’m not sure how to convince you that you’ve ruined me for other men.”

“I can think of some persuasive methods that will get your point across.” His roguish eyebrow was cocked in a way that she always found so endearing and sexy. “Why don’t we postpone this search party and you can give it your best shot? I promise to keep an open mind.”

“Keeping an open mind has never been your problem,” she laughed, playfully punching him in the arm. “I have a job to do so stop trying to distract me. We’ll have to go without Graham. We’re losing daylight and I’m running out of time before Henry comes home.”

What she didn’t add was the crossroads his arrival would bring. As much as she had fought against this thing with Killian, now that she was in, she was all in. While the four hour drive to Boston was not an insurmountable distance, she found the idea of being separated distasteful. She knew it was a conversation they needed to have and she wasn’t avoiding it exactly. Her rational mind kept reminding her that they had only met a month ago and people didn’t fall in love and move to different states after a few weeks of knowing someone. Especially single mothers who had children to think about.

Having officially given up on the sheriff, they headed toward the town line. Minutes later, they arrived to find the cruiser already parked on the narrow shoulder, driver side door open and cabin lights on. Jumping out of the truck, Emma exchanged a worried look with Killian and observed, “This looks like trouble.”

He followed her to the cruiser and placed his hand on the front seat. “It’s dry so he probably didn’t get here until after the rain moved through.”

“Graham!” Shouting his name repeatedly probably wasn’t an effective strategy but damn if she could think of anything else to do. Settling in the driver’s seat she found the keys still in the ignition and his walkie on the dashboard. Picking it up, she paged David. Within a minute, he answered, confusion evident in his tone.

“Emma? Why do you have Graham’s walkie?”

“We found his cruiser at the town line. No sign of him. We’re going out to the woods to search but you probably want to get here as quickly as possible. I’ve got a bad feeling about this whole scene.”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes. Wait for me.”

True to his word, David’s battered old Ford pick-up pulled behind their truck in record time. Mary Margaret had made the journey with him and as soon as the car was in park, she rushed to Emma’s side. “Still no sign of him?”

“No,” Killian answered with his eyes scanning the thick woods.

“He headed this direction and he was in a hurry,” the brunette observed, her finger pointing toward an invisible trail as if it were obvious. At Emma’s silent question, she explained, “All-State Orienteering champion and the best tracker in town besides Ruby. Knowing your way around the forest is still a skill set that’s valued in Maine.”

“Sure. I mean, why not?” Emma said sarcastically. “Why don’t you lead the way then? We’ve already wasted time waiting around the station.”

Grabbing the flashlight that David handed her, Mary Margaret stepped off the shoulder and moved noiselessly into the woods. She would occasionally murmur an observation regarding a broken twig or boot print in the soft ground. Emma made a point to try to locate whatever signs the other woman noted on their pursuit but was only able to see the tracks occasionally. In no time at all, they had circled back up the hill to come out at the road not even a quarter of a mile from the cruiser. “Great. Back were we started.”

“No,” Mary Margaret disagreed. “Look here.” She squatted down and shined a beam of light on the asphalt.

Sure enough, Emma saw some kind of liquid that had dripped on the road. “What is that? Motor oil?” Reaching down, she lightly pressed her finger in one of the droplets and smeared it against her thumb. Looking at the bright red color, a chill ran through her. “Blood.”

“And tire tracks from an SUV if I had to guess,” David added, his light illuminating the wide tracks partially visible on the wet dirt of the shoulder. “Someone took him.” He immediately started back toward his truck, getting on his radio and calling the other deputy to round up some volunteers and meet them out at the woods.

—

Entering the cottage at four the following morning, Emma dropped on the couch in exhaustion. They hadn’t found any other clues as to the whereabouts of the sheriff or who grabbed him off the deserted road. Had he been followed out to the town line? Is that why he hadn’t responded to her text? Why would he have not reached out to her or David if he thought he was in trouble?

Settling next to her, Killian pushed her hair back behind her ear. “We won’t find him by staying up and worrying. You need to rest.”

“I can’t shake the feeling that this has to do with me.”

“With you? Why do you think so? Didn’t you say he found something in the woods? Something related to a disappearance that happened when you were a baby.”

“I know it’s crazy...”

“I didn’t say that, love. If you think this has something to do with you, I wouldn’t bet against your instincts.” Smiling at her with an expression of full support, he added, “You’ll figure it out. But it doesn’t have to be tonight.”

“He could be out there hurt, Killian, or worse. I think we need to regroup. Go through everything again. I must have missed something. And we’re going to need all hands on deck. The situation is escalating. When are Liam and Elsa supposed to come back?”

“Day after tomorrow.”

“Perhaps you should convince him to come back sooner.”

“That will be a pleasant conversation,” Killian muttered with a roll of his eyes. “Perhaps I’ll call Elsa instead. She’s the more reasonable one.”

“Coward,” she whispered against his lips as she kissed him softly. She would never get tired of this, having him within arm’s reach. His very presence made all her worries melt into the background.

“You have more than enough bravery for the both of us,” he complimented her. “But I’ll do as you ask. After all, he’s the one who brought you into this mess. Not that I’m complaining.”

“See that you don’t. I have ways of dealing with complainers,” she ordered tartly, forcing herself to get lost in this moment with him. As she got up to walk away, his fingers hooked into the pocket of her jeans and tugged her back into his lap.

“Saucy. I like that.”

“Behave, Dr. Jones.”

There weren’t any coherent words spoken as the early morning light started to break over the horizon. He had decided to disobey, misbehaving in the most delightful ways.

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ripspaghet · 5 years ago

Text

bff | 06

↳ series m.list | 00 | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | ongoing

→ pairing: yoongi x reader

→ word count: 5,860

Prologue Summary; Your best friend's boyfriend takes an unhealthy interest in you and just as he shows up something from your past starts to creep up on you again. Could this strange and mysterious man have something to do with it? And should you trust him, or your instincts to run far, far away from him?

→ warnings: angst, swearing, cheating, self hate, trauma

Gone. Gone again. Anytime he feels he's gotten closer to unearthing the melody it slips from his fingertips, like water. It would all be so much easier if he didn't have this desire, this want. Every time it's silent he feels there's this void, something gaping within him, and life begins to feel dismal - yet, he still finds himself here, in this dark and desolate place that doesn't belong to him. A single red light aluminates in the darkness and he's left with no choice but to approach, shatter the glass, and enter. It isn't until screeching alarms pull in attention that he truly realizes that this place is not his own. Invaded. Breached. Ransacked. He's an unwelcome guest - although, these simple facts don't stop him. They pull him in, glass crunching beneath his shoes as he takes a seat. Fear and adrenaline suffocate the darkness looming around him, screaming that he is not wanted. He just needs to remember it. His fingers run along with the ivory keys, the smooth melody of the first five notes flowing into each other, only for an eerie pause of silence to follow. He lets his fingers slip from the keys. It's useless.

A soft echo of notes makes his eyes open.

He turns, looking for where the tune originated - but there's nothing, no one as far as the eye can see in this dense cloud of darkness. Nothing but the alarm filters through.

It's been exactly a day since it happened. The way your nerves are making your heart quake has, if nothing else, increased with time. You've been utterly restless - pacing around your dorm, spacing out while staring at the chipped paint of your white walls, and picking at hangnails excessively. You know you're going to have to face this. Otherwise, the rug will be pulled out from under you when you least expect it. It's safe to say you'd rather be the one pulling the rug, then be the one standing on it, waiting anxiously for your inevitable downfall.

You knock on the door about five times before it finally opens, making way to the threshold beyond it and a pair of pleasantly surprised eyes. Her gaze makes your stomach drop, so you opt for studying the interior details of her apartment. It's spacious and open, natural light pouring in from just about every nook and cranny. It suits her, she's never been one for reciting in the dark - despite her, more often than not, glaring gaze.

"____," She opens the door wider, "I didn't know you were coming, I would've made food if you called. Come in." You oblige, taking off your coat as you enter the apartment, the smell of scented candles, and floral encasing you in a spring time-capsule. You hang your coat on the rack next to the door. "It's been so stressful since the new semester started, we've barely had any time to hang out." You follow her into the kitchen after removing your shoes. "Work has been crazy too, you remember that kid that kept coming in and ripping the flowers off their stems?" She circles the center bar, making her way to the fridge and pulling out a pitcher of what you presume to be tea as she pours it into a glass, "Well, the manager refuses to ban him. He blames me for allowing the kid to destroy our merchandise." She slides the glass to you, "You prefer it cold, right?" She sighs, "That manager, such a prick. I'm really considering quitting if this keeps up." Remaining silent you watch as she fiddles with her own glass as she rambles, "I didn't mean to neglect our friendship or anything. It's just between all this and...Yoongi," Your stomach drops and your ears go fuzzy. You don't hear much of what she says, swearing you're about to barf up the chicken you'd had for lunch not all that long ago. Her voice lowers as if she's afraid someone might be listening in, "He's being so strange, showed up h-"

"Mina, I need to talk to you about something." You don't dare meet her eyes, you keep them downcast on the dewdrops of condensation rising on the glass of your untouched drink. She falls silent, the air around you becoming heavy. With a sigh, you take a seat at the bar but still neglect to touch the tea in front of you. Mina moves to take the seat next to you, still silent, observing your exhausted expression. "Listen, about Yoongi - I don't really know how to say this, so, I'll just say it. He k-"

You're startled into a flinch as fumbling footsteps followed by a loud crash of glass and fuck knows what else, cuts you off. As you turn your head, a lanky body stumbles out of the hallway into the kitchen, their back to you and Mina as a harsh swear makes your breath hitch. Dirt and glass is now spread out across the marble floor in a messy display and Mina moves quickly while you remain in your seat, watching as she rushes with worried words, "Are you okay? Did you cut yourself?"

As if you hadn't already realized, your eyes nearly bulge out of your head, heart slamming up into your throat as his dark hair falls over his brows and shifts ever so slightly with the tilt of his head, "I'm fine, " His dark eyes never leave you as Mina scans him for injuries, "your plant, not so much."

"I'll get the broom." Mina saunters off, leaving you alone with the source of your guilty conscience - you're dripping with it, a metaphorical layer of sweat against your skin that's almost suffocating.

"____-"

"Don't."

"Got it! Yoongi, hold this for me."

His mouth is quick to clamp shut as he takes the dustpan that's shoved into his chest, his eyes darting away from you, "Yeah, sure."

Mina works quickly as always, swiping the dark potting soil up into the yellow pan that Yoongi holds steady. Nervously, you shift your gaze away from the two and pick up your tea to take a large gulp.

This is going up in flames. How are you supposed to tell her with him here? You don't want to be- No, you shouldn't be caught up in this. You should have never let it happen…

"There," Mina's voice pulls your attention back up, "I'll-"

"No, I've got it." His hand lightly brushes her wrist before he turns to dispose of the dirt. The gesture is small enough to convince you that neither of them really noticed it - just a natural loving touch, nothing unusual - though, it's enough to make you look away again.

"____? Are you alright?"

Your breath hitches and you have to force the hard expression on your face to loosen, "I'm f-fine." They are together, happy, maybe even in love. He hasn't said a word to her about any of it, yet, he wasn't alone in the act. You could've stopped him. You could've pushed him away, should've told him no. She's your best friend and you let him-

"What was it you were saying? Something about Yoon-"

"Nothing," You force a big smile, "I think I was just a bit worried about you. As you said, we haven't made time for each other lately."

"Oh, " Her lips purse, "we should make time for each other soon then."

How selfish are you? Never in your life have you thought of yourself as a horrible person. But now? Your skin is crawling with self-loathe. Every time you meet Mina's gaze your stomach drops - not because of what happened, but because of how it made you feel. The images that run rampant in your head shouldn't be there. It's all the worse that there was no lust driving your actions - there was a deep-rooted desire, an intoxicating burning beneath your skin that makes you dizzy just thinking about it. A passionate fire had dwindled to life beneath your ribcage. It should make you sick. You should be repulsed at the mere thought. "I should get going now. I don't want to intrude on your couple time. I'll see you in class."

"You don't-"

"Call or text if you need me."

The hallway is clustered with people, bumping shoulders with you as you drag yourself along. Maybe it's best you act like it never happened, that Mina remains happy and not miserable knowing the man she is in love with kissed her best friend...and that her best friend allowed it - kissed him back even. And maybe you deserve this dreadful feeling that's swelling inside, growing larger day by lousy day.

You stop abruptly, a student behind you swearing at you for making them walk around. You don't know why you've stopped, don't know what urges you to turn your head but, never the less, you do. You blink at the letters next to the door. Shifting your weight from one foot to the other, you peek through the small door window. It's tantalizing, filling you with more anger than any remorse. You let this thing, this object, control you. Your every move and action revolves around running from it and for what?

Before you can convince yourself otherwise you're yanking the door open and marching in, heading straight for the ivory keys sat on the opposite side of the music room. How could you be afraid of something so ridiculous? It's pathetic. You plop down on the bench, eyes set to kill as your fingers naturally fall into the correct posture. And with a soft and steady exhale of air, your fingers slowly ignite, brushing along the keys with a fevered nostalgia.

'Prélude no.25 in C sharp minor, Op.45', a piece you once knew like the back of your hand. The memories of it still linger fresh in your mind, so much so that your hands could flow with the smoothness of the lilting notes even in your sleep. Your turmoil seems to whip and lash at your fingertips like a ravenous animal as the song crescendos, the tempo increasing with veracity and then it cuts through you, a sharp pain traveling up your right wrist and you yank your hands away. The room falls silent, nothing but the sounds of birds chirping outside and the wind whistling. Your eyes sting with unshed tears and you can't help but slam your foot into the floor out of frustration.

"____?"

Your breath catches in your throat, fear falling in the pit of your stomach as you turn your head.

"What are you doing in here?"

The sight of Jimin's blonde hair and worried eyes only calms you a little. You'd worried that maybe someone else had found you here, but it being him wasn't exactly any better. "I just-" You turn to look back down at the piano, your brows knit together, "I don't know."

"Come on," Jimin is quick to make his way over to you, yet you don't turn back to face him - even when he wraps his hand around your wrist and gently pulls it up to inspect, "you shouldn't do this to yourself." You turn slowly, reluctant to face anyone at such a vulnerable moment, but you manage to frown at him as the pad of his thumb traces soothing patterns into your skin. His hair is swept neatly across his forehead, a soft smile plays on his lips that doesn't meet his eyes, "Does it still hurt?"

"It hurts every day, Jimin." You turn away, "You know that."

"You're strong ____."

You flinch, not expecting him to say that, of all things.

"After everything that's happened, I've never known you to give up. So, stop putting yourself down." He pauses, coming to sit beside you but never letting your wrist go, "I know you can't play anymore, but your talent doesn't just exist within a piano. It's a lot more than that." Still refusing to meet his gaze, you begin picking at a hangnail, "Here," He lets your hand go and you briefly glance over to see what he's doing just as he holds a small yellow sucker out to you, "it's lemon flavored."

You glance down at the thing held up to your face, "Why-"

"You like lemonade, right?" He smiles, eyes twinkling, "Hurry and take it, we have to get to class before you're late again."

You snatch the candy from him, sniffling in annoyance, "What am I? A five-year-old?"

"You don't have to be a child to enjoy the sweeter things in life."

You abruptly plop down into your chair between Mina and Jimin, exhaling dramatically as you do. If only it'd all been a dream and you could just forget it. How many times have you thought that now? Were you in the Hundreds now? Thousands?

"Everything alright?"

Like clockwork, you sputter nervously under Mina's gaze, "Ah, yeah, just tired. Must be insomnia or something."

"Insomnia?" Jimin raises an eyebrow and tilts his head to look at you, "Do you have that?"

"Yes? No? Maybe? I'm not a doctor. Where is the professor?" Both of them turn their attention to the front of the class, seemingly not taking notice of your jumpy behavior. Though, you're sure Jimin did. He just knew when it was time to leave you be.

"Oh, that, " Mina nibbles on her bottom lip to keep herself from smiling, "Professor Lee caught some nasty bug over the weekend."

"I fail to see why that would make you smile like a little school girl that just wet herself."

She scowls at Jimin, "The professor asked a former student of his to teach the class until he returns."

What?

"Oh, wow, so Loverboy is subbing just so he can stare at your toxic face all day? I don't buy it. He must be into guys."

"Excuse me?"

You think you're about to vomit up your breakfast.

"He finds me cute and couldn't get enough."

"He absolutely does not!"

Please, for the love of all that's good in this world.

"Told me himself."

"Stop making shit up, Park!"

"As soon as you stop buzzing in my ear, you fly."

"I am not a fly! You-"

The classroom door slams and you jump in your seat, making both Jimin and Mina turn to you questioningly as you squeeze your eyes shut in denial. Slow footsteps make their way to the front of the lecture hall and the echo of them makes you cringe.

There is absolutely no way the universe hates you enough to-

"Hello, my name is Min Yoongi, a music producer and a former student of Professor Lee's. Unfortunately, the Professor is bedridden and has asked me to substitute for the time being, let's get along well."

Never mind, the universe doesn't hate you - it loathes you. You'd think that after everything you'd have no trouble avoiding him. Hell, you thought that he'd do the same, but you suppose Min Yoongi isn't going to be giving you any breaks anytime soon.

You let your head fall from your hands and slam into the desk beneath you with a concerningly loud thud.

"Woah, are you alright?" Jimin places a hand on your shoulder and you miserably slug away from him.

"Don't touch me."

The class drags on like a snail and you've sat here long enough to, staring at a head of dark hair, try to hex the man it belongs to about a thousand times - give or take. You've yet to see a beehive fall from the ceiling and send him running home though.

When the bell finally does ring you're not even granted the semblance of running out yourself as Mina cuts you off, "I'm having my birthday party early this year."

"Oh, really? When is it?" You keep your head down as the two of you mosey along, closer and closer to the front of the classroom.

"Tomorrow at my place."

You nod, more focused on escape than anything else.

"It was going to be on my birthday week, but Yoongi and I made plans together for the day of my birthday. We're going to-"

"That's great Mina. I'm sure the two of you will have a great time together." You force a smile as if your life depends on it, "Say, what time is the party?"

"Oh," Mina laughs with realization as you inwardly sigh with relief at the welcomed change of subject, "it's at eight."

"Great."

Mina bounces over to the exit with excitement, "You'll be there?"

"Of course." You force another smile as you follow after her.

Almost there, almost home free.

"Great, I'll see you then."

You nod again at the threshold, watching as Mina waves back to you.

"____, I need to speak with you."

You freeze, a deadly chill rushing down your spine. "No, thanks." You wave behind you, not turning back as you continue with your escape.

"It's about your test."

You freeze again, your eye twitching at your lack of luck today, "I'm in a real rush, I can't-"

"Come here, now."

Fuck the universe, that vindictive bitch.

Reluctantly, you turn and make your way back towards the center of the desk you had passed by with ease not all that long ago, "You failed your last test. Professor Lee informed me that you need to retake it, or you'll fail this class."

You keep your eyes directed on the wall behind him, not once sparing him a proper glance, "Okay, I'll find a tutor and-"

"There's no available tutors, because it's exam season. I told Professor Lee I'd handle this, so I'll be teaching you."

Your eyes are quick to dart to his now, "No!"

His fingers tap against the desk and they draw your attention as his eyes narrow in on you, "This has nothing to do with-" He pauses, letting out a steady breath of air and you lift your gaze back to his. Rather than being irritated or annoyed, as you expect, your surprised to find that he looks super uncomfortable, maybe even anxious, "our relationship outside of this room. And might I remind you that this test is half this semester's grade. You'll only fail again without proper help." You grit your teeth, holding back your protests. You hate to admit this, but he's right - again. "Starting next week come here after you've finished all your classes. I will be in the office grading papers. And-" He slides something across the desk to you, "your laptop, you left it."

You grab your laptop quickly before turning to leave, all the while not uttering another word to Yoongi.

The bathroom mirror is fogged over completely - except for a small spot that you've whipped at in order to dab foundation onto your neck, thoroughly painting over the purple and yellow discoloration on your skin. You juggle with your phone in your other hand, holding it to your ear, "I just- hear me out?"

"Why should I? I don't like her, so the answer is no. End of conversation."

"Please? I don't want to go alone."

"Why not? It's not like it's going to be a fun party. Doubt there will even be alcohol."

"You-"

"Get out of here already!"

"Shit," You begin shoving your makeup back into your bag, fumbling with your phone in the process.

"Listen, I know you've been having a hard time lately but there's no way in hell I'm-"

"Fine! Don't go! It's not like I need you there or anything!" You slam the bathroom door shut behide you, sure to piss off your roommate, who is washing shampoo from her hair.

"Don't be like that, ____. You know she wouldn't even want me-" Throwing your bag over your shoulder you pull the phone away from your ear and hang up. After all the things Jimin has put you through, he can't even do you the smallest of favors. You stomp over to your dorm room door, storming out into the hallway, and down the stairs. You shove the glass door to your complex open, letting the cold wind blow tangles into your freshly brushed hair as you stride toward the Lift driver that's been waiting for you at the curb for the past thirty minutes. Under normal circumstances, you'd apologize to the driver for making them wait, but as you've established, time and time again, these are not normal circumstances. As you buckle your seat belt the driver takes off, drifting at about thirty on the speedometer.

A heavy sigh falls off your lips and you lean your head against the window as the first ticks of rain make contact with the transparent glass. Your phone buzzes in your lap and you glance down at it. You half expected it to be a text from Jimin, although the notification is from an unknown number.

Message from Unknown Number-8:32pm: Let me make up for lost time. Please, answer your phone.

You begin typing only to be cut off by another buzz.

Message from Unknown Number-8:33pm: Don't try telling me I've got the wrong number. Jimin gave it to me.

You scowl down at the small screen before abruptly turning off your phone. You curse Jimin as you shove the phone into your bag.

"Thought you said you weren't going to come."

He fiddles with the ends of his hair, all the while avoiding your gaze, "Well, Jungkook agreed to come along so-"

"You can be a real jerk sometimes, you know that?"

Sighing, Jimin leans against his younger friend, but Jungkook's attention seems to lie elsewhere as he completely ignores the two of you, "You know how I feel about Mina."

"Yeah," You turn to see what's got Jungkook so preoccupied, "and you know how I feel about parties." Across the room you spot Mina and Yoongi. The two are conversing rather aggressively and you inhale sharply, barely managing to remind yourself that it's normal for Mina to blow things out of proportion and it's probably nothing. You don't need to worry. You force your attention back to Jimin.

"I have no idea how you feel about anything nowadays. You're-"

"I swear I'm never doing anything for that she-devil again."

You turn to see a rather annoyed Seokjin now standing behind Jungkook, with a large birthday cake in hand.

Raising an eyebrow, you tilt your head, "What are you doing here?"

He looks away from Jungkook, who is now laughing at his elder's misfortune, "I was conned."

"Ah," You nod and point at the cake, "she made you bake that?"

Jimin shakes his head, "What a shame you let her walk all over you."

"Yeah," Seokjin rolls his eyes before glaring over in Mina's direction, "it's too quiet in here. I'm going to start some music."

You watch Seokjin make his way over to a speaker and then leave for the kitchen. The smell of birthday cake tickles your nose now as the sound of soft pop music lulls the small crowd of people in the apartment space.

"God, this is boring."

"Beyond boring."

Those two seem to be unable to keep their moping to themselves since you arrived, although you haven't paid them all that much attention. You're more concerned with how you're going to avoid eating cake later on. You hate overly sweet things with a passion and Mina's cake is sure to taste like a sugar rush.

"We should liven it up a bit."

"Sounds like a plan to me."

"How about it ____?" You drag your gaze away from a frowning Mina to glance over at Jimin, who's holding a plate full of crumbs that were previously covered in chips. Jungkook stands next to him, bordly munching on some handmade snack you couldn't remember the name of. The two of them refused to stay anywhere that wasn't right beside the snack table. You guessed since there wasn't any alcohol, they were making do with what's available.

"Can you two behave until the candles are blown out? I don't wanna hear Mina yelling until I've already told her my excuse to leave."

Jungkook nods, "Understandable,"

"I suppose I'll wait."

You just want to go home and get some more sleep, you couldn't care less what these two goons had up their sleeves. Yes, you want Mina to have a good birthday, but you can only maintain your act for so long while around her. Faking isn't your strong suit.

"Oh, God,"

"Wha-Oh,"

You glance back over at the two of them to see that they're staring across the room. Jimin is frowning, while Jungkook looks as if his whole life is flashing before his eyes. You turn to see what it is, only to find yourself wishing you never did.

"____! There you are! You sly fox, you. I've been looking for you everywhere."

Your stomach drops, "Who told him?"

Jimin scowls as his friend makes his way over to you, "It definitely wasn't me."

"Sorry, ____. He promised me he wouldn't come if I told him." Jungkook scoots away from you out of fear of your wrath.

The guy approaching you is quick to move to your side, placing an arm around your waist. You're sure to send Jungkook the deadliest of glares that has him cowering behind a now, rather aggravated Jimin.

"Tae, what are you doing here?" You almost choke as you force a smile onto your face.

He pulls you closer to him, a smirk playing on his lips, "I heard from a little birdy that you'd be here."

As a strong urge to knee Jungkook in the crouch starts to settle in, you grit your teeth, forcing yourself to bear it and not cause a scene.

"Yah, Taehyung, who do you think you are, clinging to my best friend like that?" Jimin's brows have shot up in question as he stares Taehyung down with accusing eyes.

His arm doesn't leave you, though you can feel him stiffen under Jimin's intimidating gaze, "I-"

"If you want your dick sucked find some other girl to do it."

Taehyung frowns, "Jimin, I'm not-"

"Taehyung, " You pat his shoulder, gaining the attention of all three boys' in the process, "how about you go get me a drink from the kitchen?"

He looks back and forth between you and Jimin, slightly suspicious before nodding, and heading off.

Jimin scoffs, "The nerve of him."

"I'm going to get some fresh air. Tell him I went to the restroom or something. Also, try to keep from fighting. Like I said earlier-"

"Yeah, yeah, you don't want to ruin Mina's birthday party. Blah, blah, blah."

"Jimin," You glare, "I'm serious."

"Alright, " He groans, rolling his eyes, "I'll stop. Just go before that horny baboon gets back and tries humping your leg."

You roll your eyes but nod never the less. Jungkook whispers another sorry to you as you walk past them towards the apartment door. You only wave him off, not caring enough to bother with his inability to keep a secret. You're too tired and honestly just wish you could go home. You mean, you could go home with the excuse of, "I started feeling sick." Which wouldn't be a complete lie - thanks to Taehyung. You know Mina wouldn't fall for it though.

Luckily, her apartment is on the bottom floor and it doesn't take you long to make your way outside. The warmth from the building's heater almost seems to melt off your skin in the chilled air. It's only around dinner time, but you suspect the sun has begun to set behind the rain clouds, due to the darkness that has started settling over the city. Your steps are small as you watch your breath puff out into a cold cloud passed your chapped lips. Fiddling with the sucker that still rests in your pocket, you shut your eyes and listen to the downpour that assaults the sidewalk. You hadn't planned on being so weak, so vulnerable. After all these years you'd hoped that maybe you would've grown stronger by now - but you feel weaker than ever.

An exaggerated sigh startles you and your eyes snap open.

His back is to you as rain showers down onto the awning above, black shoes resting in a puddle on the curb of the street as he stares at cars zipping by. You've never noticed before, but the rainy weather compliments his skin. You find your eyes lingering on the pads of his fingers and the blue veins below red knuckles - a perfect contrast of colors. Really, you know better than to approach him. You know better than to go anywhere near him - but, knowing better doesn't stop you from making your way over to him with a misplaced sense of determination as he reaches into his pocket, nor does it keep you from plopping down next to him as he places the retrieved object between his velvety lips.

He pauses his actions to glance over at you curiously. You frown at him before reaching up and plucking the purple lighter from his left hand, "What are you-"

You shove the lighter into your pocket, exchanging it with your sucker. You know you'll never eat it, might as well put it to good use. You hold it out to him, "You should replace bad habits with healthy habits."

He turns away with a scoff, nibbling on his lower lip - an obvious attempt to keep himself from smiling, "That isn't particularly healthy."

You glance at the sucker, "No, but it's better than what you had before." Nudging the candy into his now empty hand you purse your lips.

Reluctantly, he takes the cigarette away from his mouth and slides it back into its pack, "So, you're talking to me again?"

"No," You stare at him as his long fingers unwrap the yellow sucker and plop it into his mouth.

"Then what do you call this?"

You look away, opting to stare at the wet asphalt and listen to the constant pitter-patter of the rain, "Why were you and Mina fighting?"

Silence falls over the two of you for a moment before he sighs and rolls the stick of the sucker along his tongue, "She wants me here while I need to be elsewhere."

"It's her birthday party."

"Yeah," He snaps, eye sharpening as they flicker over to you, "I told her a month before she planned it what days I'd have work. She did this on purpose."

"Why would she-"

"Because she thinks I'm cheating on her with my coworker." The words are spat bitterly, the sound of the sucker cracking between the tension of his teeth. Your lips clamp shut and you look away from him. Why are you getting involved? You're only making things messier for yourself. "She's not all that wrong, though. I guess I deserve this."

Your head whips back over, "W-what? Are you cheating with a coworker?"

He turns to look at you, brows furrowed, "What? No, I-" He pauses then shakes his head, deciding against it and laughs, "Why are you here ____?"

You glance around, "I-Uh-Mina said I had to come and I-"

His head tips forward, dark hair falling over his lashes, "No, why are you here, with me."

"Oh," You watch the rain as it begins to slow, "I'm not sure."

"Thought you hated me."

"I should." You grit your teeth in annoyance.

"But you don't." Rather than it being a question, it's more of a statement, as if he already knows exactly how you feel.

You don't say a word, you just blink over at his side profile, heart thudding against your ribcage.

He sighs, turning to look at you, "You and I, I know it isn't good. I know I should stay away from you and you do the same to me...but," His dark eyes trace your features, as if trying to memorize them, "I don't think-"

"Jimin! You asshole! Get out! You were never invited for this exact reason!"

You both turn to see Jimin stumbling out of the apartment complex, Mina hot on his heels, "It's not my fault your party was boring!"

Shit.

"Shut up!" She lands a solid slap that echoes off the back of Jimin's neck and through the rainy streets.

"Fuck! Jungkook! Do something she's touched me! I'm infected!"

Jungkook isn't far behind the pair, seeing as a second later he's the next person to rush out onto the sidewalk. Mina shoves Jimin's chest and he barks with laughter as he stumbles back, "Are you a child?!"

"Sure, if that's what you want me to be."

"Jimin, come on, stop. ____ said to-"

"____ said what?! Is she the one who brought you?!"

Shit.

"What? No, I-"

Next to burst through the door is Taehyung, who is quick to step in between Mina and Jimin, "Really sorry about all this Mina. I'll escort Jimin home."

"You?!" Jimin laughs dryly, "Why? So you can have another go at ____?"

Taehyung's brows crease as he opens his mouth to speak, but when he glances over to see you sitting on the curb he shifts gears, "____! There you are!"

Fuck.

All of their heads turn to you, Jimin raising an eyebrow, Jungkook looking confused, and Mina narrowing her eyes at you as she assesses the fact that her boyfriend is sitting next to you.

"The fuck are you doing out here?" You can tell that her question is directed at Yoongi, only by the small shift of her eyes. Yoongi simply shakes his head and turns away to watch the cars again.

Somewhere in all the commotion, Taehyung had made his way over to you, seeing as when he plops down next to you and snakes an arm around your waist you flinch, "Is this where you've been hiding?"

"For the love of God, Taehyung, if you don't-"

Jimin is cut off when Yoongi stands up, pulling you with him by the wrist, and glaring at Taehyung in such a way that he freezes on the curb - hands kept to himself. You fidget at the feeling of Yoongi's cold fingers wrapped around your wrist, holding your breath. The group turns dead silent before you eventually pull away from Yoongi, taking your wrist back, "Taehyung, please take Jimin home."

"What?!" Jimin squawks at you, "You said you needed me-"

"And I should've just asked Jungkook instead." You're quick to cut Jimin off, glaring at him as if he'd just stepped on your toe.

"I can't believe this. I literally-"

"Aw, poor Park. First time getting dumped on a sidewalk?"

"Shut up!" The snarl takes all of you by surprise, even Mina takes a step back, mouth clamping shut.

"Jimin,"

Jimin's eyes shift back to you, flickering over to Taehyung, then Yoongi before settling back on you, "Are you going to tell me what's going on with you?"

"What's going on with me?" You scoff, "You're joking, right?"

"Well, other than the usual shit show you have going on." His words are harsh and they catch all of you off guard for a second time. Jimin tends to be blunt when he needs to be, yes, but never harsh, "I'm fed up, ____. You won't talk to me. You're just bottling it all up. You can't expect anything the change if you-"

"You're the one who gave Hoseok my number!"

a/n: sorry it took me so long to post and that this is kinda filler🙇‍♀️ but it's the start of some character development and the conflict is raising so it's about get crazy real soon👀😳

@team-work-made-the-dream-work @seokchella @crackhead1-800 @chogiyeol-utopia @thatchampagnebitch @jeonchan26 @loveyoongles @ghoularaki @team-wang-puppy

To be tagged send an ask 🍬🚬

#bts yoongi #yoongi x reader #yoongi au #mina twice #min yoongi #bts au #bts jimin #yoongi angst #bts angst #taehyung x reader #suga x reader #suga angst #bff | 06 #bff series

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sophisticated-creepy · 4 years ago

Text

Lola’s mind was swarming. Although one thought seamlessly bled into the next, there was a supreme lack of a single thread with which to follow, and completely lost in the void of her own mind, she hadn’t noticed she’d walked passed her destination, realizing halfway down the next block she had to double back to reach Curios and Oddities. She was stepping up to the main entrance as Modesta was walking out, holding the door open wide for a customer who had finished purchasing an order of candles and dreamcatchers, the lady’s arms draped in large shopping bags.

“Thanks again, and have a pleasant day,” Modesta told the satisfied shopper. “Lola! I thought I saw you walking by.”

“Hi, Modesta,” Lola chirped, perhaps a tad too sharply to even her own ears. “How was inventory?”

“Fine,” Modesta answered, her eyebrows knitting together in question. Lola’s energy was sporadic and fluctuating, sending out an unsettling vibe despite standing perfectly still in the middle of the sidewalk. Maybe that was the issue: Lola was merely standing. Lola didn’t “stand”, she fluttered, like an overly caffeinated butterfly. If Modesta did find her friend by chance to be in a state of rest, some other part of her was usually moving, whether it were her arms gesturing about grandly during some ostentatious storytelling, or her eyes dancing to absorb the scenery around her. Lola was like the wind, and rarely remained stagnant, so when she noticed the eerie calm in the way Lola remained motionless, staring at nothing, she was immediately on edge and completely creeped out.

“Look, I know Halloween is right around the corner, but you are really starting to freak me out, Lola. Do you need help or something?”

“Sorry,” Lola spoke. She then blinked, her shoulders slouching downwards naturally, shifting back into a more fluid realm of movement and mannerisms. “Sorry,” she repeated. “Yes, actually, I was wondering if you could help me. Are you busy, or can we talk for a moment?”

“I’m not too terribly busy, come on in. What’s on your mind? You were a total zombie on the sidewalk just now.” Lola was ushered into the warmth of the shop, the scent of vanilla and cookies instantly had her relaxing, feeling once more at peace and in control of her rampant thoughts and imagination.

“I’m processing a lot of information,” Lola began as she stepped into the sacred space. “Actually, I’m trying to get some research done on a new story for a writing contest I’m entering.”

Modesta gave a light laugh. “Oh! Another story, huh? That explains your zone-out. What’s your theme this time?”

“The Hobblin’ Goblin.”

“Of course it is,” Modesta laughed harder. “Why did I even bother to ask?”

“Anyway…,” Lola transitioned, giving her friend a look that clearly meant she herself was not amused. “I have a deadline in little over a week, so I need to get as much research done as possible before I can do any actual writing.”

“Do you really need to do research? I thought you knew all there was to your loveable Hobblin’ Goblin.”

“It’s rather quite shocking on how much I don’t know, except for the everyday basics: he’s a goblin, he hobbles, walks with a crutch, and plays pranks. I don’t know the real, tangible origins, so I’m looking for the deeper meaning. I’m looking for his story.”

“I’ve never thought about it from that angle before,” Modesta admitted. “It’s a unique way to portray the legend, that’s for sure.”

Aggrievedly, Lola leaned her hip against a tall table stacked with candles and heaved a sigh. “I want to get some personal testimonies of people experiencing a real run-in with Mr. Goblin as part of my research to get a truer feel of his hauntings, but I’m coming to realize it’s going to be near impossible to sort the differences between a Hobblin’ haunt and a regular haunt.”

“I can help with that!” Jack sprung up from behind the furniture piece Lola and Modesta were talking next to, his boisterous appearance scaring the living daylights out of the two women, having the whole shop of customers stare in their direction as they each let out a scream of fright.

“Jack!” Modesta scolded after catching her breath. “Have you been waiting behind that table this whole time to scare us?”

Laughing, Jack nodded. “I was. But, do you at least get my point?”

“What are you talking about?” Lola asked, still trying to get her racing heartbeat under control.

“I heard you talking about the Hobblin’ Goblin. He pulls pranks, just like me, and like any other prankster, his jokes are mainly for his enjoyment,” Jack informed. “You can’t rely on the typical moans and groans and rattling of chains. You need to look for the fun.”

Lola snapped her fingers in confirmation. “That’s exactly what I said to Stacy. I’m looking for what makes the Hobblin’ Goblin so special, and I believe it lies in the fun. Do you mind if I record you saying that, Jack? From one trickster to another, I’m sure you’ve got some great insight I could borrow.” Eager to get a new perspective on her favorite goblin, Lola began digging around in her purse to renew her quest of investigation.

“Did you hear that, Mo? I get to be recorded,” Jack smugly stated, plastering on a cheesy smile a charlatan of yore would envy.

“I don’t think the world is ready for your mug,” Modesta sarcastically shot back. Lola emerged from her handbag, holding her tape recorder towards Jack’s face, his smile swapping out for a confused pout as he stared down the microphone of the handheld device.

“Tell me again about the motivation of tricksters, Jack,” Lola sweetly requested.

“Yes, Jack,” Modesta agreed, stifling her laughter to the best of her ability. “Tell the audio world all about it.”

“Uh, Lola, when you said ‘record’, I assumed---.” Jack trailed off, not wanting to hurt the wannabe reporter’s feelings, as Lola’s innocent expression at recording him with her archaic equipment weighed heavily against his conscience.

“Oh, shit, hold on,” Lola cursed. “I need to take notes.” Lola’s quick movements to try and free up her hands in order to get a pen and her notebook caused her to jumble and jostle the items in her arm, and she dropped her notepad along with the newspaper straight to the floor in a flurry of commotion. Modesta bent down to help Lola retrieve her items. When her fingertips brushed the newspaper, she hissed, jolted by the sharp sensation, and yanked her arm back, the feeling as if she had touched the coils of a stovetop scorching into her fingers. Looking at the periodical, her eyes fell on the front page, the grainy image of the train yard staring back at her, and Modesta could have sworn she had been punched in the gut.

“Oh, no. Nope. Not okay, and not today. Nada, nope, not happening,” she stammered furiously, and shoved the paper away from her. “I don’t know why you brought that newspaper into my store, but you need to take it outside now.”

Lola reclaimed the newspaper, slowly picking it up off the floor. “Well, that helps answer some of my questions,” she softly stated.

“Everything all right?” asked Jack.

“I was hoping Modesta would take a look at this picture in the newspaper. Even I got a weird vibe from it, and I wanted to get her opinion on the photo, too.” Lola gave the paper to Jack so he could take a look at the cause of excitement.

“Is this the train yard where that attack was made?” he asked, and Lola nodded.

“What attack?” Modesta asked, unconsciously staggering away from Jack as he held the paper out, studying the photo intensely. The residual tingle of being burned lingered on her fingertips, and her hackles were prickling in warry foreboding.

“I heard about it on the radio last night. A security guard was attacked by a demon,” Jack informed, dropping his voice at the end to whisper so as not to alarm nearby customers.

“A demon?” Modesta repeated, crossing her arms and raising a skeptical eyebrow. “Really? Someone approved that statement to be broadcasted all over local radio?”

“Hey, there’s no mention of the demon in the paper,” Jack stated, turning the pages to try and find the rest of the story.

“Why would there be? The article said it was the work of some kids’ prank gone wrong,” Lola interjected.

“What I heard,” Jack began, “was that the security guard was attacked by a hunched over shadow creature he saw lurking just outside the trees of the forest.”

“How would the radio station know that? The newspaper said the guard has a concussion and a fractured skull. He couldn’t make a statement. His partner found him after he fell,” Lola surmised.

“The dates are wrong, too,” Jack continued, his gaze sharp on the paper. “I heard about the attack happening two nights ago, not last night.”

“Maybe the radio got it wrong,” Lola theorized. “Or, maybe the paper has a misprint. Wait!” Jack’s words began to poke at Lola’s mind, helping to fit pieces of the puzzle together from her earlier haphazard thoughts. “Did you say something about a hunched over shadow creature? Here, let me see that again.” Lola reached for the newspaper and turned to the front page, squinting hard once more at the blurry image. “I can’t tell for sure,” she said at last.

“What are you looking for?” Modesta asked, still standing on the outskirts of her friends thanks to the uneasy item of interest.

“I think the photographer caught an image in the forest, but I can’t make it out. I’ll understand if you don’t want to, but could you please take a look for me, Mo? I get the feeling something’s there, but I need you to validate it or not.”

“Oh, there’s something in that photo, all right,” Modesta confirmed, not even having to look at the image, refusing to touch the newspaper.

“Let me take a look in a better light,” Jack requested, and leading the others to the main checkout counter, spread the pages out on the glass surface. Leaning over the image, he peered closely at the tree line. “I think I can make out a shape. Here, right?” Jack pointed to the same shape that first caught Lola’s attention. "It looks cut off, but that might really be a picture of some kind of figure.”

“Oh, my gracious!” Lola gasped. “What if this is proof of the Hobblin’ Goblin?” she asked in a burst of delight. “Isn’t he rumored to have lived in the forest? What if, what if,” she stressed, “this is him?” Her heartrate had picked back up several faster beats per minute, and the pleasant prickle of goosebumps began crawling up her arms, her earlier disposition melting to give way to the wash of excitement lighting her features. “We’ve got to check this place out!”

“No, Lola,” Modesta cut in harshly. “Absolutely not.” Lola turned to her sour friend, the brusque declaration confusing, and her expression must have read as much, for Modesta pointedly tapped a firm finger on the counter where they all hovered above the newspaper. “This is not safe,” the consternated brunette stated evenly.

“I don’t understand,” Lola spoke. “Why are you so spooked?”

“You wanted my opinion? This is it: stay away.”

“What exactly are you picking up on?” Jack questioned.

“I’m all for Lola doing her research on the legend of the Hobblin’ Goblin,” Modesta began to elaborate. “Since you’re looking for the ‘fun’, I suggest you stick to that route. This,” she indicated, waving her hand over the newspaper, “is not him.”

Lola’s excitement quelled as she stared down at the shape in the photo, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth in contemplation as she considered Modesta’s words compared to her impulse to investigate. This article was a tangible lead, a jumping point for her story to breathe life and take flight. She trusted her friend’s opinion, but nothing short of her own prodding could satiate Lola’s curiosity once it had been roused.

“I trust your judgment,” Lola began carefully, “but maybe we should check things out for ourselves. Come out to the train yard with me tonight.”

“Even if I wanted to, I can’t. I’m leading that workshop tonight and Jack is helping run the store, so don’t even bother asking him,” Modesta replied.

“Sorry,” Jack apologized, shrugging his shoulders in pre-obligated surrender.

“Besides, you’d be trespassing. You don’t have the authority to go traipsing around on private property after hours anyway,” Modesta reminded. If it were anymore possible, Lola’s exuberance and spirits deflated with the realization that she wasn’t, in fact, allowed to do her investigating after hours. A rebellious side of her stayed hopeful, however, and the back of her mind was already formulating plans to get the research she so desperately sought.

“Lola,” Modesta drawled in warning, seeing the gleam of trouble brewing behind her friend’s eyes. “Give me your word you’re not going to go after this figure. Leave it alone.”

Lola rolled her eyes, but still held a smile, always appreciative of Modesta’s caring and cautious nature. “I give you my word I won’t go seeking this figure,” she promised.

“Thank you. Now, if you don’t mind, I have customers to tend.” With that, Modesta flicked her eyes upon the newspaper one final time before turning away. A moment passed before Jack cleared his throat.

“You’re going to go after this figure, aren’t you?”

“Now, Jack, I gave my word, you heard me promise,” Lola reiterated.

“Just…please take Raph with you. I know you are more than capable of handling things on your own, but…if there really is something demonic out there, it’s best if you don’t face it alone.” He gave his friend a comforting squeeze on her shoulder before going to help Modesta with the store. Lola remained silent, thankful of her friends’ concerns, however, the desire to figure out this growing mystery of ghosts and goblins staring back at her from a newspaper headline had her solidifying in her mind what she needed to do in order to properly tell a story.

~~~~~~~~~~

Oh, that Lola. Always getting into trouble.

#newberry at night #adventure #fantasy #romance #love #magic #witches #ghosts #goblins #ghost stories #paranormal #paranormal investigation

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gh0stiegirlie · 5 years ago

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synopsis: all it took was one glance at the hotheaded boy at the U.A. exam, and you were smitten. for deku, it was a single act of kindness that instigated his immediate attraction to uraraka. several months into school, best friends y/n and deku are left heartbroken when. uraraka and bakugou start a relationship. when you and deku find yourselves confiding in each other, a question arises; is this love, or loneliness? are you two better just as friends?

length: 4k words

a/n: i editted this shit to the gods, man. i hope you all enjoy! also, i can describe this chapter in one word: angst, angst, and more angst.

<- pt. 1 pt.3 ->

Across the campus, Bakugou and Uraraka experience a similar feeling.

It’s their first night together, and they’re spending it cuddling in Urarakas room. As much as Bakugou enjoys her physical praises, from the way she gently traces her fingers along the curves of his biceps to how she nuzzles against his chest for his warmth; her soft, delicate form feels foreign in his arms.

Most girls love the protection of their boyfriends’ embrace, but Uraraka feels suffocated. Yet here she is, wrapped up like the perfect little present in Bakugou’s arms.

With the weeks that pass, the couples irritations and questions only grow.

You and Izuku hold hands, loosely. You only hold hands for the experience of touching another, and to perpetuate the class consciences that you are the “most wholesome couple in all U.A.”

Although your thoughts are far from 'wholesome'. You feel guilty of a heinous crime, though you're roaming free. Because here you are, hugging, cuddling, kissing Izuku, but thinking about Bakugou. And here’s Izuku buying you lunch, dropping you off at class and occasionally carrying your books around campus, wishing you were Uraraka.

Uraraka experiences persistent headaches because of Bakugous yelling. All he does is talk about being a hero, or complain about Deku. Everything is fucking Deku Deku Deku. In her head, Izuku clouds Bakugou. Her thoughts of Deku encompass her mind even when she’s with Bakugou. Every time she passes you and Izuku tenderly holding hands in the hall, her heart tightens. While Bakugou tugs her around like a dog on a leash, Deku grasps you with all the pride in the world, a radiant smile on his face. Two things about Bakugou; He never discloses his emotions, and he's never gentle.

Bakugou spends all his days avoiding landmines. Uraraka is so fragile, he's afraid one day he’ll squeeze her hand so tight she’ll shatter. Anything and everything he does either offends, hurts, embarrasses, or irritates her. He’s going crazy with all the rules and expectations Uraraka forces him to meet. He’s like putty in her hands, and she’s trying to mold him into a different person.

Uraraka only enjoys being with Bakugou when they’re taking out their frustrations through make-out sessions.

Y/n only enjoys being with Deku when they’re using eachothers lips as a way to escape their isolation.

For a while, their bonds remain relatively stable. But as time goes on, the weak foundations their relationships were built on begin to crumble.

You and Izuku arrive at the common area after an intense sparring match, which you lost against Kirishima. You courteously accepted your defeat, though Izuku remains pissy about it.

“I just-- I can’t believe you lost!” he expresses, refusing to accept your failure.

“I know! I work so hard, and I’ve never lost a match before! I don’t understand… ” You fix your gaze on the floor, not wanting to meet Izuku’s disappointed eyes. "I guess it’s good I lost today, because now I know exactly what I need to work on! I had no idea my mind can't pierce solid surfaces." It's honestly cool Kirishima's hardening quirk kept your thoughts from breaking into his mind. Now you know to practice sending your thoughts to another person through a wall. "I guess if I never lost, I would end up an egotistical maniac… Like Bakugou!” you joke with a soft chuckle.

“Yeah! You just have to work harder!” Izuku agrees.

You appreciate his positivity. While his attitude is always upbeat with others, his comments to you are always nasty.

“Maybe you haven’t been working hard enough, but I know you can do better! Everyone does! " he awkwardly rubs the back of his neck. "So when you lose, it’s embarrassing...”

You rip your hand away from Deku. “What? Who’s it embarrassing for? You?” you question accusingly.

“Y-Yuh-Yes!” he sputters, “When you lose, it makes others think I'm a loser too! And if I want to be the number one hero, I can't have people thinking that!”

You bite the inside of your cheek as you think. He considers you to be this bright and shiny object he can brag about at show and tell. Now, you’re losing your polish. You’re collecting a little bit of dust and a few scrapes, and he's losing interest. Already, Deku wants to move on to the next object that catches his eye.

Not only that, but he craves whatever looks good on headlines. He desires magazine covers to display "number one hero marries highschool sweetheart!" He wants "unbeatable hero couple foil supervillain 100!". Apparently "Deku is never going to be the top hero because his girlfriend lost one fight her freshman year at U.A.!" is the article he's currently imagining.

“I’m not just some gold medal you can show off to others, Izuku. And I'm especially not some perfect little prize you can wrap up in a cute little bow. I’m human. That means sometimes I win, and sometimes I fuck up.” you retort calmly, trying to keep your cool.

“We’re called the golden girl and boy for a reason. We’re supposed to grow up being the perfect, powerful couple,” he reaches for your hand, but you flinch away.

“It doesn’t really seem like we are, does it?! Our whole ‘golden couple’ label is complete bullshit!” you bicker. “We, as people, aren’t perfect. We never will be. No one ever will be!" You laugh humorlessly. "And our relationship sure as hell isn’t.”

Deku closes his eyes with a sigh. “We--We just have to try. I’m doing my part to work as hard as I can to get better. I’m not going to suffer because I'm carrying your losses on my back. I'm not letting you get in the way of my dream to be the number one hero.”

You get it. Because he's praised for his powerful physical quirk, he thinks he's better than you. Because he's physical quirk always leaves him battered, he thinks he's suffered more than you. Because he can go to the gym every day, get ripped and show off his muscular calves with every kick, he thinks he works harder than you.

After months of petty arguments, Izuku has finally found a way to make you snap.“Oh shut up, Izuku! You know I've worked my entire fucking life for where I am now! I've told you stories from my past I've never so much as mentioned to others! How I went home crying from middle school every damn day because of migraines! How everyone there considered me some kind of--of alien, some freak because I'm able to get inside people's heads! How I was bullied for practicing my power because kids considered it a quirk more suited for a villain! It was hard, but I managed to ignore all that crap and kept working! And I still work hard. Every. Single. Fucking. Day." You take a ragged breath, unphased by Izuku's shocked expression. Good. He should be shocked. He should feel bad. Because he's crossed a fucking line. "And how come it’s only bad when I lose when you’ve lost plenty of times, Izuku?! ” You pointedly stick your finger at him and poke his chest with it. “Remember how you practically failed the entrance exam?! How about when Todorki beat the crap out of you at the Sports Festival!” you yell. With every point, you shove your finger into Izuku's chest. Eventually, you push him against a wall. “Don’t try and act like you’re above me because you have a powerful external quirk.” You shut your eyes and when you open them, they’re glowing e/c. “Because my mental quirk can fuck someone up just as bad as any of your stupid punches.” You warn, before whirling around. “I’m going to my room, Izuku. Come with me if you want.”

Of course, he follows you like a lost puppy.

Every pitbull is an adorable, loveable puppy before it grows up into a vicious hound. You thought you could fall in love Deku, you really did. But you were capable of loving the Deku whom Izuku pretended to be. The innocent Deku you approached on the first day of school, after noticing he was acting as flustered as you felt. The thoughtful Deku who wanted nothing more than a friend to run to the vending machine with between classes. The friendly Deku who you invited over to movie night, who buried his head into his blanket in embarrassment every time two characters did it on screen, and cried every time someone died.

You could've fallen in love with your best friend.

Either he's changed, or since you're his girlfriend, he can’t hide who he truly is anymore. You know how he will do anything to have the public opinion in his favor. You know he will sacrifice anything during his climb to Number One Hero, even if it’s crushing you.

You wordlessly walk side by side to your dorm, but as you near the dorm hallway, some bitch interrupts your silence.

“Why do you always have to yell, Bakugou!?” Uraraka yells from inside Bakugou’s room, which is coincidentally a few dorms down the hall from yours. You and Izuku turn into the hallway in time to witness Uraraka barge out of Bakugous room. She rubs her temples in frustration. When she notices the two of you outside your room, she eases her body language and lowers her voice to sweetly ask, “Can you just calm down, babe?”

“Don’t order me around! I’m being perfectly calm and rational!!” Bakugou shouts in response. “You’re the one who needs to calm down! You’re worked up over nothing! This is how I am, and I’m not going to change for some shitty woman!” he storms over to Uraraka, oblivious to the fact you and Izuku are watching this play out. That, or he just doesn’t give a shit.

Uraraka gasps. “I’m your girlfriend, you can’t call me that!” she chides. “This is exactly what I don’t like about you! You’re so aggressive all the time!” She fusses, like a child having a tantrum. Her bangs dance around her head as she stomps away from Bakugou, but he grabs her wrist to keep her in place. "Let me go! Being around you gives me headaches.”

“We should probably go~” Izuku whispers, attempting to open your door.

You slap his hand away. “I wanna see what happens,” you whisper back.

Izuku nervously glances between you and the arguing couple. “You’re so nosy! Come on, we’re leaving.” he decides, but you try to stay put. He then simply uses his quirk to overpower you and drag you inside, though even through four sets of rooms and a closed door, you can hear their argument.

“Being around you gives me headaches! All you do is nag about that nerds shitty girlfriend, and how shitty I am!” Bakugou explains. His insult doesn’t hurt you as much as you expect it to, because you can hear it. To someone who hasn’t listened intently to his screams and threats for the past few months, his voice appears as crass as always. But you hear the desperation in his voice. All he wants is for Uraraka to read between the lines and hear what he truly is saying, but no matter how hard he tries, she doesn’t. And it’s hurting him. He’s frustrated and in pain, because all she wants is for him to change every aspect of himself. Can she not see that? “Getting a girlfriend isn’t a part of being a hero, and it’s not something I need to pick up on my way to the top. I’m doing this because I can stand you. But I don’t need a damn girlfriend, especially when all mine does is make me feel like crap.” He’s describing his feelings in his own Bakugou way, but she doesn’t understand his language. And by the way he worded this last sentence, it sounds like he’s starting to give up.

“If you don’t need me, then why are we dating!”

At this point, you’re sick of hearing their bullshit. You leave your room to yell at the couple and hopefully get them to shut the fuck up.

Izuku tries to hold you back. “Leave it alone!” he hisses, but you leave anyway.

“Uraraka, can you shut the hell up?” you jeer. This is the third time this week she’s made your fucking ears bleed with her screeching. Bakugou leans on the all and snickers, convinced someone has taken his side. But oh, if the boy who broke your heart thinks he’s safe from your candor, he’s wrong. You jut your chin at him. “And Bakugou, go find a wall to punch.” You turn towards your door. “Go work this shit out in couples counseling or something. 'Cuz you guys need fuckin therapy.”

Bakugou snorts, enraging Uraraka. First, you steal Deku, and now Bakugou’s laughing at your jokes? Not happening.

“Leave us alone, Y/n!” she huffs, her pink cheeks now red with irritation. You flip her off before slamming your door shut. Bakugou’s eyes gawk at your closed door, unsure if he loves you or hates you. Either way, your remarks emit a small, impressed ‘huh’ from him.

From that point on, Bakogous thoughts of you revolve around one question; Who knew the golden girl was such a badass?

After months of sleepless nights (due to overthinking Izuku's daily insults and listening to Bakugou and Uraraka’s endless arguments), your first year of U.A. nears its end. On one hand, you’re excited to take some time for your mental health. On the other, you’re going to miss kicking ass in weekly training (especially Izukus), and then following those brawls with Class 1-A movie night (which Izuku always spent touching you as minimally as possible, either because you ‘barely won’ or because you defeated him). Bakugou can't wait to get the hell away from Uraraka and her endless spew of horseshit. She doesn't know how to do anything but make crap float and talk shit about him or Izuku’s girl. She always goes on and on about how exhausting his yelling is, but listening to her nonstop yabbering makes spending summer locked away, either in a gym or in his kitchen, sound like heaven on earth.

With only a month of school left, Izuku waits outside your dorm for you to finish getting ready for the day, growing anxious as the minutes’ tick closer to the first bell.

A few doors down, Uraraka impatiently taps her shoe on the ground as she waits for Bakugou.

If there’s one thing you and Bakugou have in common, it’s your impunctuality.

“Hey! Sorry that took so long! I kept fucking up my eyeliner,” You exit your room and blow a stray piece of bangs out of your eye to check out your wings on your phone screen. “Nice,” You shove your phone into your bag, satisfied.

“Babe, you don’t need to spend so much time on makeup!” Izuku cups your cheeks with his hands, but focuses on your eyeliner instead of your eyes with a slight grimace on his face. “You’re beautiful without it,”

He says it politely, but you know this a backhanded compliment. He hates that you wear makeup, even though its the barebones that simply consists of mascara, eyebrows, and eyeliner. He prefers ‘natural’ girls, even though there is no way Urarakas cheeks are naturally that pink. You push his hands off your face. “I know Zuzu, thank you. But I like it.” You hold his hands tightly before dropping them.

Uraraka cringes as the sight of her boyfriend. “Katsuki!” she whines. Even though the whole point of the uniform is to signify everyone's equality, Bakugou loves wearing it in a way that screams “I’m the main character and better than you!”

His baggy pants sag to expose his shitty job of tucking in his shirt, and ball around the combat boots he refuses to take off. Per usual, he leaves his buttons undone and doesn’t bother wearing the staple red tie.

“How come you’re late but still look like a mess?” Uraraka complains. She reaches out her hand to arrange his askew vest, but he pulls away from her.

“I’m fine.” he aggressively grabs her hand and begins to pull her towards class. “Let’s go,”

Uraraka spots Izuku watching and stops Bakugou dead in his tracks.

By planting a giant kiss on his face.

“Eugh. Get a room!” You grouse, rolling your eyes at the repulsive sight. But Uraraka keeps it going by practically shoving him against the wall. “You might as well pull down his pants and suck him off while you’re at it!”

Bakugou pulls away from Uraraka to snicker at your comment.

Hearing Bakugou snigger at a joke you made… It gives your heart a reason to beat for the first time in months. You proudly slip your fingers into Deku’s and glide away, Bakugous eyes following you entire time.

The halls are nearly empty, only a few irresponsible students straggling to class or hovering around their lockers.

“So, do you want to be partners for the Aizawa project?” Izuku questions, like either of you have any other friends to partner up with. He hauls you along as he speedwalks to class.

“Yeah! I wonder what it is.” You move at a steady pace, knowing there's plenty of time to enjoy a pleasant walk to class together before the bell rings.

“I don’t know! Mirio and the other third years wouldn’t tell me!” Deku whines, tugging at your hand to bring you up to speed. “Y/n, hurry upppp! We’re going to be late!”

“Dude, you’re gonna rip my arm off!" you moan, rubbing your forearm.

“Shhh,” he hushes.

Although you expect this attitude by now, it still pisses you off. If Deku expects you to deal with him treating you like garbage, he's wrong.

"You'll be sorry the next time you do that," you mumble, but he pretends not to hear, instead using his quirk to squeeze your hand in reply. Hard.

You barely wince.

“Now let’s go into class!” Izuku intertwines your fingers, straightens himself up, and tells you to put on a smile. He doesn’t do this because wants to hold your hand or genuinely cares about you, but because he enjoys the dramatic chorus of cheers you two always receive as you enter the classroom. If there’s anything Deku likes about your relationship, it’s how he gets to show you off like a trophy. His trophy.

You enter class, and Mina immediately screams about how cute and perfect you two are together.

The golden boy and golden girl are dating. Honestly, who wouldn’t love that?

Bakugou doesn’t. He scoffs and turns away while everyone else encourages your shit show. Uraraka claps stiffly.

The corners of your mouth sink the instant the class’s attention shifts to some dumb pun Kaminari made. Bakugou is the only one to notice your smile fall when you reach your desk. He notices how you lean your head against the palm of your hand to stare out the window instead of at your boyfriend. You look… Tired. Like you’re tired of this act while Izuku relishes in the praise. Currently, he’s making a show to Uraraka of all the cute dates he’s taken you on while you create a show inside your head. A show where you and Bakugou are the ones going on cute days. Izuku uses his conversation with Uraraka as a way to silently convince her he’s better than Bakugou (and she’s falling for it), while you are just silent.

You shift uncomfortably in your seat, the eerie feeling of someone watching you sending your mind racing. When you turn to discover Bakugou is the one studying you, your face turns dark red and you immediately look away. The blush only fades once Aizawa starts talking.

“Class, today I will assign your partners for the quirk assessment.”

“Assign?!” The whole class screams in unison horror.

“Why are you assigning partners?!” Mina cries out, dramatically fainting across her desk.

“Yeah! That’s not fair!” Kaminari adds on furiously.

“Nuh-no it’s not!” Mineta defends Aizawa’s decision, but internally drools over the idea of being paired with a girl.

“Settle down,” Aizawa silences the class with a single wave of his hand. “I understand you want to choose your partners, but in this assessment we want you to study the quirk of another person. Most likely, you all already know about your closest friends quirks. I want to pair you with someone new so you have to learn about a quirk you know nothing about.” he explains, to which the class to a reluctant conscientious that it's a good idea.

He clears his throat. “So, Mineta and Hagakure”

Mineta shrugs as if to say “good enough”, while Hagakure groans in disgust.

You tune out the list, only listening for Izuku and Bakugou. As more names leave Aizawa’s lips and Izuku is already paired with Kirishima and Uraraka with Momo, you start to wonder who your partner will be. Who else hasn’t been mentioned? Damn, if only you had paid attention.

Finally, Aizawa reaches the last set of names. That’s when it hits you.

Aizawa hasn’t said Bakugou’s name.

“And…”

There’s no way. This can’t be possible—

“Y/n and Bakugou.” Aizawa sighs. “You will have a presentation due on each other’s quirks next week. Get to work” he explains before zipping himself into his sleeping bag and flopping to the floor.

You remain glued to your seat, completely frozen in shock.

You already have a feeling this project isn’t going to end well.

“Hey! Y/n!” Uraraka calls out from across the class, before squeezing through people to get to you. She pushes out her lip, clasps her hands together, and widens her eyes till the twinkle. “Do you think I can be with Bakugou, please? We’re kinda dating!” she exclaims as if it wasn’t obvious by how they were literally making out in front of you this morning.

Without a second thought, you reply. “No.” You walk over to Bakugou and sit on his desk. “Sorry. I don’t want to bother Aizawa” you shrug nonchalantly, angering Uraraka to no end. But you know she’s too kind to say anything, and merely smiles to distract you from the steam spewing from her ears.

“Okay! That’s fine!” she skips over to Bakugou and kisses his cheek. “Have fun babe,” she whispers before walking away with clenched fists.

You think it’s interesting Bakugou didn’t say a single thing during the whole interaction.

Does he want to be partners with you?

Or are you just the better option compared to his girlfriend?

Either answer is a good one, you suppose.

“Tch. Follow me, extra. We’re going outside.” Bakugou leaves his seat and shoves his hands deep into his pockets before lumbering away, leaving you to catch up.

“Hey-- Wait up!” You call out. Bakugou huffs and leans against the doorframe. “Why are we going outside?”

Bakugou quirks an eyebrow at you with a smirk, igniting explosions from his palm. “It’ll be easier to learn about your quirk if I’m trying to blast you to hell.”

“What?! No! I’m not fighting you!” you retaliate, stepping back into the classroom. You’re not in the mood to get your ass kicked by Bakugou, as hot as that sounds.

“No wonder you’re dating Deku, you’re a coward too!” Bakugou taunts, his outburst washing a wave of silence across the classroom. You manage to keep your body relaxed and expression unperturbed, though fury rages within you. You will not let his intimidation frighten you. You refuse to be the reason he wears his sneer of satisfaction, that sickening smile that appears every time he successfully threatens or demolishes an opponent.

You stare at the ground as dozens of eyes burn into your back, eagerly awaiting your response.

Then, you do something you never thought was possible.

You raise one of your fists and punch Bakugou’s pretty face.

“It’s on, Bakugou.” You spit. Before he reacts, you sprint down the hall towards the training grounds.

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lnc2 · 6 years ago

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Bugging Out

Summary: Marinette is super popular.

A/N: A little mindless silliness from my WIP folder.

AO3

Marinette was at an impasse.

When she first approached Master Fu about releasing the other miraculous he initially refused. Citing the risks of Hawkmoth getting his hands on any of the jewels and reminding her how difficult it was for Ladybug and Chat Noir to defeat him without throwing another miraculous into the mix the argument was over before it ever really started.

Until Hero’s Day that is.

When Hawkmoth appeared with Mayura by his side, Fu found he had no other choice than to grant her request. A relief, really, as Marinette was wary of relying too much on lucky charm to signal when and where she and Chat Noir needed backup. Ladybug couldn’t risk abandoning a fight and her partner to play Uber for superheroes.

Which was how she found herself dropping off the bee, fox, and turtle miraculous to their respective holders. Two months later and Marinette was seriously starting to regret it.

It started with Rena Rouge.

Unsurprising really, with how much Alya loved to show off in the suit. Giddy on realizing a lifelong dream, she was second only to Chat Noir in her love of patrols and chatting with civilians. Social media was abuzz with citings of the fox wielder running through one arrondissement or other, always followed up hours later with a compilation post on the Ladyblog.

(And if Marinette thought those posts were a little self-serving, well, if anyone deserved to show off it was her best friend.)

It only took Alya a week with Trixx to start showing up on her balcony. It was cute, really, how sneaky she thought she was. Stopping past on her unscheduled patrols as she was just passing by and oh, are those macaroons?

She’d stop by for half an hour or so before eventually flitting off into the darkness, cheeky grin in place as she somersaulted off the side of the building.

As Alya was Alya, Marinette never really thought twice about Rena Rouge’s occasional visits. More remarkable was Chat Noir’s even less frequent drop ins.

He’d found her one evening as she was watering the plants. It wasn’t her intention to call out to him but when Chat caught sight of her and waved she didn’t have any other choice but to wave back.

Fifteen minutes of idle chit chat and a horrible physics pun later had him disappearing to finish his patrol route. That he’d stopped by at all wasn’t too unusual, she told herself. After all, Chat tried to make a point of acknowledging her whenever he caught her out of costume. Marinette suspected it was his guilty conscience over “breaking her heart” when her papa was akumatized but it was sweet that he was trying all the same.

Even Nino managed to stop by once or twice although he didn’t stay long enough to finish the croissants he pilfered from her plate.

But ultimately those visits weren’t so outside the realm of possibility that she second-guessed them. Or at least, that was the case, until Chloe came.

“Remember Dupain-Cheng,” She’d said after deigning to sit with her for all of five minutes. “Not a soul.”

Marinette’s smile was strained as she watched Paris’ least conspicuous hero disappear into the night. She stopped studying on the balcony after that.

And still, they kept coming.

Infrequently at first and then nearly every day. To the point that it was becoming a rare night when Marinette didn’t have one superhero or other clamoring at her balcony window.

Quite frankly, it was getting ridiculous.

Especially when Marinette found herself having to sneak out of her house just to sneak out of her house. Woe to the superhero who couldn’t even escape through her own balcony lest some one teammate or other found her out.

Which wasn’t saying anything about her parents who were becoming all too interested in the thudding and whispering coming from their daughter’s bedroom.

“Marinette, do you need to tell us anything?”

Her mother’s eyes scanned the room, lingering on the trap door to her balcony where Carapace had just escaped. Exhausted, Marinette just shook her head.

“No maman. Sorry, I was just… talking to myself.”

“Hmm.”

When Sabine finally left she slumped down onto her chaise and let out a muted scream into her throw pillow.

Tikki watched her with wide, concerned eyes as she munched away at her bedtime snack.

“Maybe you should tell them to cut down on the visits.”

“I didn’t invite them here!” Marinette hissed, glaring at her kwami. “They just keep–” She made a frantic waving motion with her hands. “Showing up.”

Tikki flew to her side. Marinette shook her head.

“Do you think they know? Or are they all just… miraculously drawn here by some stupid ladybug pheromone?”

Her kwami giggled. “I think they just like you.”

“Well I wish they wouldn’t!” She groaned. “Or at least they’d like me less. My parents are starting to get suspicious.”

“Can you tell them to stop?”

“I tried that,” She said.

“Mmm,” Tikki said. “Maybe they’ll listen if you ask as Ladybug.”

It was worth a shot at least.

Unfortunately, when she finally did call a team meeting they were less than receptive:

“I’m sorry, Ladybug, but I just don’t understand what the big deal is.”

Ladybug sighed, resisting the urge to shake her best friend.

“The big deal, Rena, is that so much attention focused on one civilian is bound to attract Hawkmoth’s attention. I know none of us would like to see Marinette or her family in danger.”

“Of course not,” Chat said.

Ladybug spared him a smile. Trust her kitty cat to always have her back.

“But I don’t think stealing the occasional pastry from the baker’s daughter is going to make her a target.”

Or not.

“I just think we’re taking up too much of her time as it is,” She said, gritting her teeth.

Rena laughed. “Oh trust me, M doesn’t mind.”

“Yeah,” Carapace said. “She’s pretty chill.”

Queen Bee shrugged. “She’s alright.”

Their easy dismissal was enough to make a girl scream.

Days on weeks on months of this ridiculousness had left her nerves frayed, exhaustion chip chipping away at her temper as she played one fish, two fish, red fish, who fish with her classmates turned heroes and partner who couldn’t leave her civilian self well enough alone. God forbid she have any moments of peace, any moments not completely devoted to her role as Paris’s hero now civilian sidekick. It wasn’t enough she had to play Superman – she had to be Lois Lane as well.

Like a tea kettle left on the burner, Ladybug nearly shrieked from the absurdity of it all.

“You all are ridiculous,” She snapped, tugging at the bunches of her pigtails. “Why can’t you leave Marinette alone? Why are you all so obsessed with her? Why is Chloe, who, sorry Queen Bee, by all accounts hates her, showing up at her balcony at all godforsaken hours of the night?”

The last word came out on a hysteric huff as Ladybug finally gave voice to the last few months frustrations. She glared from Chat to Rena to Carapace to Queen Bee and then back again. Their faces were a mixture of shock and confusion and regret and for a moment she thought she was finally getting through to them when Rena asked,

“Hang on. Do you not like Marinette?”

Oh my god.

“You didn’t hear a word I said,” She muttered, disbelieving. Ladybug shook her head. “I like Marinette just fine.”

“Doesn’t sound like it,” Queen Bee said, sounding a little delighted herself.

“Marinette is great,” Carapace added, looking towards his girlfriend. “I bet you’d really like her if you gave her a chance.”

Rena frowned. “She’s one of the best people I know. If you knew her like I do–”

Ladybug rolled her eyes. “Believe me, I think I know her pretty well.”

Chat placed a hand on her shoulder. “Come on LB. Don’t be like that.”

“I’m not being like anything Chat. I have nothing against Marinette. I just think you all should leave well enough alone.”

“If I didn’t know any better,” Queen Bee said, looking at her appraisingly. “I’d say you were jealous.”

“Jealous?” She laughed. She really couldn’t not at this point. “I can’t believe I’m having this conversation.”

Her teammates merely exchanged knowing looks, as if this explained everything. It was too much really. Too, too much.

“I’m going home,” She announced, completely and totally Done.

It didn’t make any sense.

Marinette detransformed as she fell through her skylight, dropping down to her bed, landing on her knees and falling face first into her cat pillow with a scream.

Tikki patted her head in sympathy.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I’m taking them back,” She said, voice muffled by her pillow. “I’m taking all of them back. Even Chat’s. Hawkmoth’s got nothing on me.”

“Are you sure you can’t– ” Tikki’s words were cut off by a sudden crash as four frantic superheroes tumbled through her skylight and on top of her.

She nearly screamed.

“Marinette!” They all said, frantic, scrambling off of her.

Rena patted her back. “We saw Ladybug coming in this direction and wanted to warn y– Oh.”

Her hands froze with her words and Marinette followed the fox’s gaze to Tikki who was pinned, wide-eyed and furious, beneath Carapace’s knee.

“Excuse me,” She squeaked.

Stunned, none of them made a move to get up. Carapace winced as the kwami phased through him then and flew to their eye level. Marinette removed herself from the unwelcome dog pile with a groan.

“Dupain-Cheng?’ Queen Bee snorted. “Seriously?”

“Shut up, Chloe!” Rena snapped.

Marinette ignored them and buried her head in her hands.

Tikki scowled. “You four should be ashamed of yourselves.”

“We didn’t– we didn’t know,” Carapace said.

The little kwami huffed.

“M-my lady?” Chat Noir whispered.

Peeking through her fingers she met his dumb-struck gaze. “I told you I wasn’t jealous, chaton.”

Rena let out a near-hysterical laugh. Queen Bee rolled her eyes.

“Oh.” Was all he managed. “So then everything you were saying earlier…”

He trailed off, voice breaking in light of this recent revelation. It was enough to deflate most of her anger, leaving resignation in its wake.

God save her from ridiculous cat boys.

Marinette sighed, shook her head, and met her team’s various gazes with a tired smile.

“You know I love you all but… if I start bringing pastries to patrol can you cut down on the visits? My parents are getting suspicious.”

#miraculous ladybug #lnc2 writes #ladybug #chat noir #carapace #rena rouge #queen bee #superhero shenanigans #marinette is just really popular okay #and all she wants is a nap #idk even know anymore

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watching-pictures-move · 4 years ago

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Movie Review | The Decline of Western Civilization series (Spheeris, 1981-98)

Many years ago, before I sold out to the man, I have to admit I felt a certain attraction to punk music. No, I was never anywhere close to a full on punk (I was, and still am, extremely lame), but I have to admit the anti-establishment streak definitely resonated with me at a certain point of time. (Not that it still doesn’t, but in addition to selling out, I’ve softened with old age.) Like many people I’ve found appealing the political conscience and mix of influences of the Clash, or the boneheaded energy of the Ramones, but I also found my interest straying to hardcore punk. I remember the first time I listened to “Damaged II” by Black Flag and finding it unbelievably abrasive and foreign to my ears, yet it was something I couldn’t get out of my head, and returned to the song and the album it was from a few years later and appreciated it as one of the most forceful expressions of angst ever recorded. I remember first learning of bands like X and Fear, and seeing performance footage on YouTube and being thrilled by the rawness and danger, especially when they had to fight off their fans. This footage was from Penelope Spheeris’ cult classic documentary, The Decline of Western Civlization, which for years was not easily available but I have now finally seen in its entirety.

The movie is structured simply, moving from one band in the L.A. punk scene to another, interviewing them in their natural habitats and punctuating this with footage of their performances. Songs are presented in full so we can get the complete experience. The first band we see is Black Flag, then with frontman Ron Reyes. They are lively on stage but it’s interesting to note how different the energy was prior to the arrival of Henry Rollins, who brought a certain discipline and muscularity to their music. (One of the songs featured here, “Depression”, pops up again in Damaged, and the impact in the latter is noticeably more forceful.) The guys here come across as aimless and destitute, living in a decrepit church where they’ve turned the closets into makeshift bedrooms, seemingly losing money with every gig. But they are also quite affable (you can tell the lyrics of “TV Party” sprang from these minds) and do not have illusions about their situation, especially their difficulty in getting gags thanks to their rowdy fans. These scenes play like a moment frozen in time, right before the band’s most significant period would begin. We move next to the Germs, and these scenes play like a car accident in slow motion, with Darby Crash’s self-destructive tendencies on full display. This was a short time before his death, which occurred between completion of filming and the theatrical release (his image was featured heavily on the promotional materials), once again giving this a lost in time quality.

Next we go to the headquarters of Slash Magazine, the staff of which moonlights as a band called Catholic Discipline. The frontman complains about New Wave, claiming it doesn’t actually exist, yet they come across as downmarket New Wavers who are slumming it in the punk scene. Yet their love of music and their work is obvious and the frontman does possess a certain charisma. Much of what we see of the punk lifestyle is squalid and dismal, yet the music of X manages to poeticize this condition. Their unassuming demeanours during their interview contrast sharply with their vigour in their performances, during which they do their share of batting off overeager fans. We get a burst of political conviction when the Circle Jerks launch into the libertarian anthem “Red Tape”, but this dissipates by the time they start playing “I Just Want a Skank”. We spend some time with the Alice Bag Band and then are treated to a montage of interviews with punk fans. These are shot in monochrome with stark backgrounds and a single bulb providing the lighting, which has the effect of bringing them and their words into sharp relief. We hear similar stories again and again, of aimlessness and aggression, the subjects using the music both as an outlet for their frustrations and inspiration for violence.

Spheeris’ camera has been largely nonjudgmental, yet there’s an undeniable sadness in this sequence. But lest I make it sound that the movie makes punk seem uniformly depressing, the closing sequence provides a potent antidote. The electrifying final minutes of the film feature a performance by Fear (who are not interviewed). The atmosphere here is hostile, with the band riling up the audience with homophobic and misogynistic taunting and having to physically fight them off throughout their set list. It might be tempting to liken their shtick to cheap alt-rightish provocation, but I think that robs their music of the proper context. When almost all their peers and fans adopt an attitude of “everything sucks”, Fear’s ability to find the humour in that mentality is kind of refreshing. It also would ignore the sheer muscularity of the delivery, which almost turns the music into a form of violence. The film is undeniably a fascinating document, but while Spheeris may have had the good fortune of turning on her camera in the right place and right time (even if she had to pay to rent soundstages to film some of the performances), it’s moments like this of pure exhilaration that cement the film’s greatness.

Part II: The Metal Years takes place almost a decade later, with a drastically new context and perspective. This time the focus is on the L.A. metal scene, which was a dominant cultural force unlike hardcore punk ever was. And this time around Spheeris’ POV is less of impartial observation and more satirical condescension. Taken journalistically, the movie is obviously compromised, particularly in an interview of Ozzy Osbourne that’s misleadingly edited to make it look like he has the shakes. I wish the movie hadn’t done this, as Ozzy is a flamboyant enough presence that he’s already funny without needing to frame him into gags, something Spheeris acknowledged in an interview years after the fact. Ozzy and a few other veterans of the scene are not immune to metal culture’s innate ridiculousness (the movie’s biggest laugh for me was Spheeris’ deadpan reaction to Steven Tyler’s extended masturbation metaphor to describe the rock’n’roll lifestyle). It’s worth noting that Spheeris asked her subjects how they wanted to be filmed, leading to such choice setups as Gene Simmons in a lingerie store and Paul Stanley in a bed full of scantily clad models. (Lemmy allegedly took offense to how he was portrayed, claiming Spheeris shot him from afar to make him look stupid, but I don’t think he comes across badly. He’s low key and unassuming in a way that contrasts him from the other participants, at the very least in terms of appearance).

The structure of this entry is tighter, using snippets of different interviews to flesh out different ideas, exploring the decadence and excess of the music and the surrounding culture. We even hear from the anti-metal folks, particularly in one amusing scene where a woman describes the dangerous potential of metal fashion with the solemnity of a cop or anti-gun advocate describing illegal firearms. Performance footage is limited to brief excerpts, usually for comic relief (assless chaps and a limp attempt to set fire to a Soviet flag are highlights), although we do get an extended look at a sleazy stripping context. (The club owners featured seem as much into the metal lifestyle as some of the musicians and fans, in sharp contrast to the genial working class types featured in the first and third entries.) The most notorious segment of the film is the interview with Chris Holmes from W.A.S.P., who lounges in a pool in alcoholic self loathing, which probably went farther in deflating the excitement around the metal scene than any single moment. Yet like the first film, this one refuses to lock into too narrow view of its subject and rebounds with a Megadeth performance that goes a long way in showing that yes, this music can in fact be good. (I should say that I enjoy my share of hair metal, which Megadeth is decidedly not, but the songs earlier in the film don’t do the best job of selling the genre. Although anything would look lame with assless chaps.) This movie is more obviously flawed than the original, but I can’t help but kind of love it. The fact is that the metal musicians and fans, despite being somewhat boneheaded, are also full of good vibes and fun to hang around (more so than the self-serious punk fans in the original), and the movie is quite slick and stylish by documentary standards, which makes the film true to its subject matter in a a way. I mean, you open the movie with Motorhead and I’m half won over already, and I haven’t stopped thinking (and smiling) about it since I’ve seen it.

The good vibes don’t carry over to Part III, which follows a group of homeless gutter punks in L.A. around another decade later. Once again there’s a change in context and perspective, with Spheeris coming across as more compassionate and maternal. The musicians here offer a more sobering, grounded presence. The veterans here, Keith Morris and Rick Wilder, come across as survivors more than anything, particularly the latter with his skeletal, emaciated appearance. The music this time around is almost beside the point, although we do get the sense that it offers the main subjects one of their only sources of relief. Their stories are similar. Broken homes. Forced onto the streets. Substance abuse. The movie feels like extended versions of the Darby Crash scenes and the interviews from the original, but with the grim consequences covered in the final moments, and the film’s sense of despair is alleviated only by the compassion Spheeris brings to the material. I can’t see myself returning to this as readily as it’s more downbeat and less dynamic than the previous movies, but it is undeniably moving, and had a profound effect on Spheeris as well, who decided to become a foster parent after her experience making this movie.

#film #movie review #the decline of western civilization #the decline of western civilization part ii: the metal years #the decline of western civilization part iii #penelope spheeris

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singledarkshade · 5 years ago

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New Circumstances

Summary: Gideon is trying to put her night with Rip and Miranda in the past but fate has different ideas. Her new job means they now have to work together. Can they work as a team or will their history get in the way? Sequel to Seduction. Author’s Note: I never intended to write a sequel to Seduction but someone, who will remain nameless (@incendiaglacies) but knows who she is, talked me into it and this idea appeared. This has been finished so will be posted quickly. Enjoy.

*********************************************

Part One

The light in the office flicked on and Rip smiled inwardly when the man who owned the office jumped seeing Rip sitting there waiting for him.

“How did you get in here?”

Rip smirked, standing to face him, “That would be telling, Mr Thawne.”

Thawne glared at him before he took a seat at his desk leaning back and waiting expectantly, “Are you here for a reason, Mr Hunter?

Rip held up the Flash Drive he and Miranda had stolen the day before, “I thought you would want this.”

A smile touched Thawne’s lips, “Excellent work as always,” he held out his hand for the drive.

“Money first,” Rip told him.

Thawne nodded, “Of course. Your hard work must be rewarded.”

Forcing himself not to say what he was thinking, Rip simply waited, watching the screen on his phone as Thawne wired the money to the account that Rip had given him. It promptly moved to one of their other accounts which would move the money again. To ensure no one could trace it.

“I’ll contact you when I require your services again,” Thawne said holding out his hand expectantly.

Without another word, Rip tossed Thawne the Flash Drive before walking out the office. They’d been paid, so could move on to their next job.

Rip entered the apartment they were using in Star City. It was definitely one of the nicer places they used and called, “Miranda?”

“In the hot tub,” she called back.

Smiling he dropped his jacket on the couch before heading to the balcony where his wife was submerged in bubbling water, steam rising around her while she sipped what looked like white wine.

“It’s a bit early to drink,” Rip noted as he leaned over to kiss her hello.

“It’s apple juice,” she told him accepting his kiss, before asking, “How did it go?”

Rip showed her his mobile, “We’ve been paid.”

Miranda nodded, sighing as she took another drink.

“What’s wrong?”

She shrugged, “Nothing.”

Rolling his eyes, Rip stripped then slid into the water, pulling Miranda close, “What’s wrong, darling?” he brushed a kiss to her cheek, “We stole something, got away cleanly and even been paid. Usually that counts as a good day.”

Miranda rested her head against his, “I’m thinking about Gideon.”

“Miranda…”

“I’m feeling bad,” she cut him off, “Because I wanted to have fun with her. She must have felt so bad when she realised what we did.”

Rip pressed a soft kiss to her shoulder, “We can’t afford to feel guilty. You wanted to have fun with her, we did but you always knew why we were there and what we had to do.”

Turning Miranda straddled him, her arms sliding around his neck as she rested her forehead against his.

“I’m just…”

Rip stroked her back when she trailed off, “We didn’t force her to do anything with us she didn’t want to. You’ve got to separate things like this, or you’ll feel guilty constantly.”

“I guess I just didn’t think I’d like her as much as I did,” Miranda whispered, “You’re the only one I’ve ever cared about in this life. You’re the only one I’ve fallen in love with.”

Rip held her close, “I love you too.”

Miranda kissed Rip, tightening her arms around him.

“How about,” Rip murmured when they parted, “We take a holiday. A few weeks away where it’s just us, sun, sea, good food and drink, with absolutely no need for clothes and no stealing.”

“I’d like that,” she smiled at him.

“I’ll see what I can find,” Rip murmured, smiling when Miranda kissed him again, “Later.”

*********************************************

Gideon was getting frustrated as she sat in the reception area of Palmer Tech. Since the horrible morning, after an incredible night, where she woke to find the Flash Drive containing proprietary work that she’d been given to use for the conference had been stolen, not to mention the couple she’d spent the night with had disappeared without a trace, Gideon had been trying to find a job.

Her former employer, after firing her, had seemingly told everyone who would possibly hire her not to. Palmer Tech was her last chance before she would have to look further afield which she didn’t want to do. Central City had been her home since she’d come here for University. She had friends here and did not want to leave them.

“Miss Ryder,” Palmer’s assistant appeared, “If you would follow me, Mr Palmer is ready to see you.”

Standing, Gideon took several slow deep breaths to compose herself as she followed the other woman towards the private elevator behind the reception. When the doors opened, Gideon followed the other woman into the office which overlooked the entire city. If she had the time she would just stand and stare at the view, it was phenomenal.

However, she had more important things to worry about and put a smile on her face as Ray Palmer appeared before her.

“Miss Ryder,” he offered his hand, towering over her, “Ray Palmer, it’s great to meet you. Do you want something to drink?”

“No, thank you,” she replied, watching as he motioned his assistant away and offered Gideon a seat.

Taking the seat across from her, he smiled, “Looking at your resume, I can’t in good conscience hire you for the position you applied for.”

“What?” Gideon snapped, the anger and exhaustion of the past few weeks catching up with her, “Then why on earth did you call me here then have me wait almost an hour after our meeting time? Just to not offer me the job.”

“No,” he said hurriedly, “I want to hire you. I just have a much better job for you than the one you applied for.”

Deflating Gideon winced, “Oh. My apologies Mr Palmer, it’s been a hard few weeks.”

“I understand,” he smiled before adding, “And it’s Ray. You’ll be working on a specialist team reporting directly to me, so I prefer first names.”

“Of course, Ray,” Gideon smiled back.

Ray beamed at her and bounced to his feet, “Excellent. Let me show you around and explain why you’ve been hired. We work differently from most companies and I can promise you very differently from your former employers.”

Gideon reached her apartment, took off her jacket and shoes before sitting on her couch and letting out a cry of relief.

“From that,” her roommate stuck her head round the door, “I’m guessing you got the job.”

Gideon nodded, “I got the job.”

Lily bounced over and hugged her friend tightly, “I’m so happy for you.”

Sighing Gideon sat down, “It’s not the job I went for but a much better one. I’m going to be working with a team that he wants me to run. I’m the only one hired just now but it’s going to be interesting.”

Lily sat at her best friend’s side, “I know it’s been a hard since that bastard fired you because he wouldn’t let you use the hotel security for the Flash Drive.” She tentatively added, “Not to mention the guy or girl who disappeared after your ‘fantastic’ night together you refuse to tell me anything about.”

Gideon leaned against Lily’s shoulder, she’d only given the barest of details of what happened that night to her friend, mostly because she didn’t want Lily to know the colossal mistake she’d made, “I’m just relieved I don’t have to leave Central City.”

“Oh, you know wherever you went I would follow you,” Lily noted, “Right?”

“I know,” Gideon chuckled, “But thankfully that is not happening.”

Lily grinned, “So, when do you start?”

“Monday,” Gideon told her, “And I get to help recruit part of the team.”

“Since you’re not starting until Monday, then I think we should go get you some new clothes for the new high power job.” Lily noted with a grin.

Gideon chuckled, “Sounds like a great idea.”

*********************************************

“She’s perfect,” Joe West stated as he read over the file Ray had given him, “Smart, driven and Thawne just used her as a scapegoat for his tech being stolen. Does she even know she actually worked for him?”

“I don’t think so,” Ray replied, “But the fact Thawne owns Wells Industries as well as Thawne Tech is not something known by many people.”

Joe shrugged, “She’s going to get a shock. But hopefully it’ll consolidate her wanting to be on the team to get back at them for using her.”

Ray nodded, “I intend to hire at least one more for my side of the team. What about you?”

Joe handed him several files, “I have a few possibilities.”

“Just a few?” Ray looked over the number of files he had.

Joe nodded, “There are a lot of qualified candidates for the team, so I am trying to whittle them down based on experience. Although we also need to make sure the team can work together.”

Ray nodded, “That’s a good point,” he scanned the files and whistled, “These people are amazing. How are you going to choose?”

Joe shrugged, “I’m working on that. Have you got a place for them to work?”

Ray grinned, “I will have a base operational by the time the team are ready to use it. And it is going to be fantastic.”

“There is someone specific I want for the team,” Joe noted as he took the files back, “But he’s not on the approved list.”

Ray looked at him thoughtfully, “I’m intrigued.”

“This guy is not law enforcement,” Joe continued, “But there is no one better at getting in and out of places undetected.”

Frowning in thought Ray suddenly asked, “Is your guy a criminal?”

Joe shrugged, “Possibly.”

“Possibly?” Ray demanded, “How are you not sure?”

Joe chuckled, “Suspected of but there is absolutely never been any proof that he stole anything. Although considering I have tracked down what are possibly multiple identities for him, it’s very probable. Not to mention his background.”

Frowning confused Ray asked, “If he’s a suspected thief, can he work for us?”

Joe smiled, “As long as he has never been convicted then we can hire him.”

“Okay,” Ray laughed, “So, what has he said to your job offer?”

“Nothing yet,” Joe replied with a grimace, “Because I haven’t been able to offer it yet.”

“Why?”

Joe sighed, “I have no idea where he is.”

“Then how are you going to offer him the job?” Ray asked confused.

Joe grinned, “I have one advantage in this.”

“Which is?”

“I know his mother.”

#fic #legends of tomorrow #rip hunter #miranda coburn #gideon #ray palmer #the flash #joe west #hunterburn #alternate universe

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bigskydreaming · 6 years ago

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Whats Nightwing and Deathstroke's dynamic? Why does it make you wince? Im not very familiar with it.

Nightwing and Slade actually have a really interesting and compelling dynamic in a lot of ways, that can be really good when written well and really terrible when not. My biggest issue is it is that its not sexual in the comics (Slade is a good thirty years older than him) or in other adaptations that have a version of it, like the Teen Titans cartoon. But fandom being fandom, Dick/Slade is a bigger ship than like, half his actual canon ships, so any new take on it always comes with a big sigh at all the new Dick/Slade shipping that’s gonna crop up or have a resurgence cuz of it. And I’m annoyed enough with YJ right now that I’m not giving them the benefit of the doubt that they’ll do anything new or interesting with it that’s worth having to wade through pages of new Dick/Slade noncon in the months afterwards. Its a ship that generates a lot of non-con fic in particular, or at least my old favorite, ‘dubcon’, with the dubious part of the consent referring to the fact that it usually involves mind control or brainwashing, both tropes that show up a lot in their interactions anyway. (Not that there’s anything dubious about this NOT allowing for consensual anything, just that people love to call it dubcon because….fuck if I know).

But anyway….in the comics, Deathstroke is a mercenary who’s one of the Titans’ earliest and most iconic enemies. Though at various times and depending on who’s writing him, he’s sometimes an antihero and even a semi-trusted ally of the Titans (usually with Dick specifically), other times a villain but with his own personal code of honor that means he won’t help the Titans or other heroes but he’ll refuse to take jobs that would pit him against them, and other times he’s full on remorseless and sadistic villain who hates them all and wants them all dead.

He also had three kids, his son Grant (the first Ravager), his younger son Joseph (Jericho) and his youngest, their half-sister Rose (the second Ravager). Basically, the first time he interacted with the Titans was when the supervillain group HIVE put out a contract to have the Titans all killed. Slade turned them down cuz of his personal honor code and how young the Titans were, but his son Grant accepted the contract in exchange for HIVE giving him superpowers to help him fulfill it. The process didn’t work right though, and when fighting the Titans, Grant’s powers overloaded and killed him.

Slade blamed the Titans for this, and vowed to finish the contract and kill them as some twisted way of honoring Grant. He doesn’t do Logic so good, well no, its more like he doesn’t really do parenting so good, as in he tends to have fuck all to do with his kids 364 days of the year, but then something bad happens to one of them and suddenly he thinks he’s Dad of the Year and going 0 to Homicidal in six seconds flat is the way to make up for all the times he’s let them down or screwed them over, instead of just…not Doing That.

So Slade recruited a young meta named Tara Markov (yup, that one) and trained her as his apprentice specifically to help him get revenge on the Titans. At his prompting, she joined the Titans as a spy for him, feeding him intel and plotting against them in one of the best known comicbook storylines of all time, The Judas Contract. It was up there with some of the X-Men’s best known stories like the Dark Phoenix Saga and Days of Future Past. (In the 80s actually, the Titans comic book was almost as popular as Uncanny X-Men at the time. Like way more than the Justice League. They were DC’s big hitters, popularity wise - specifically the lineup that for the most part was centered around Dick, Donna, Starfire, Beast Boy, Cyborg and Raven, with other members like the original Titans and later ones like Pantha and Wildebeest coming and going at various points in the 80s too).

Ultimately, Tara made her move and betrayed the Titans, enabling Slade to kidnap each of them one by one and turn them over to the HIVE….all except for Dick. In the meanwhile, he was approached by Slade’s ex-wife Adeline Kane - who has an equally all over the place dynamic with Slade, like sometimes she’s his worst enemy and other times she’s manipulating events behind the scenes to help him without him knowing, because she still loves him…it basically just depends on who’s writing her, same as with Slade. Also, Kane is Adeline’s maiden name, she’s distantly related to Kate Kane aka Batwoman in some extremely complicated manner I can never remember, but that’s mostly just trivia. I can’t remember a time its ever been relevant to a story, and it has nothing to do with Slade’s interactions with Dick.

ANYWAY. Point being, so Adeline, who blames and hates Slade at this time for their son Grant’s death, along with their other son Joey, seek out Dick and offer their help rescuing the Titans and defeating Slade. Joey is a metahuman as a result of Slade’s altered DNA (he has regenerative powers and is actually immortal, due to experiments the army did on him while he was a soldier). So Joey was born with powers although they didn’t activate until he was a young adult. His codename was Jericho and his power lets him possess peoples’ bodies. He’s also mute, and I’m half expecting him to show up in YJ fairly soon. If not this season then hinted at by the end of it. Also wouldn’t surprise me if they had plans to have him be gay in the YJ universe. He’s a character who was coded as gay practically from his debut. Joey/Dick is actually probably Dick’s oldest and most enduring slash ship, for the record.

So Joey works with Dick to rescue the Titans and defeat Slade, who’s captured and goes on trial for kidnapping the Titans. Joey ends up joining the Titans in the aftermath, and Adeline’s yay good, this was my Sekrit Plan all along, I did all this solely in the hopes that you would end up a superhero and have positive influences and not end up a murdering douchebag of flexible morality like your dad cuz fuck that guy, am I right Titans?

Did Adeline really just do all of that because she wanted her son to have more friends? Like…idk honestly it could go either way. Like….it IS the kind of thing she would do, tbh, so its as likely she was telling the truth as it is she just wanted to screw Slade one last time to avenge Grant and then was like hey if I take credit for my kid ending up a Titan now, I could probably play the “you owe me one” card later if I ever need to. Addy does like handing out “you owe me one” cards, just to be safe. Never know when you might need one.

The thing all this has to do with Dick is like, so it basically ended up being Dick versus Slade in the big finale, while Joey was rescuing the others and helping them face off against Tara. And for whatever reason - with multiple takes on this offered by multiple writers in the decades since - something about Dick just stuck with Slade and he’s had a kinda fascination with him ever since. Like he’s always talking about how much more he could teach Dick than what he already learned from Bruce, trying to convince him he’s got a killer instinct that Bruce just suppressed and its holding him back, blah blah, like saying he’s good, but Slade could make him great, so he surpasses both Bruce and Slade. TBH, he spends WAY more time obsessing about Dick and getting Dick to join him than he bothers paying attention to his own kids.

It really isn’t inherently sexual though, its a weird kinda pseudo father/son, pseudo mentor/mentee type thing. And its not entirely one-sided, because Dick at various times IS…tempted? Kinda? Like whenever Dick’s having some kind of crisis of conscience, or he’s pissed at Bruce or is questioning the effectiveness of superheroes or why they do the things they do or what does it all matter blah blah blah like omg I love you Dick, I really do, but sometimes you are such a drama queen, my god, blast some My Chemical Romance, experiment with drugs and chill out already, its not that deep. (LOL I kid. Well mostly). But point being, every once in awhile something happens that puts Dick in a funk and makes him second guess himself, and he spends like….a month being convinced he should reinvent himself as the anti-Bruce, that’s the solution, and this usually sends him in search of Slade except he’s always like ‘OH FANCY MEETING YOU HERE, THIS IS TOTALLY RANDOM AND NOT ON PURPOSE’.

And Slade likes to take any opportunity to try and convince him like BE A BAD GUY DICK, KILL PEOPLE FOR MONEY, ALL THE COOL KIDS ARE DOING IT. Except inevitably Slade does something that pisses Dick off and Dick snaps out of it and is like NO, IM A HERO AND THIS IS BAD, I REMEMBER NOW AND I’LL NEVER JOIN YOU, YOU’RE NOT MY REAL DAD I HATE YOU! And then they fight again, but with swords, not words, and then they’re like crap, we’re too well matched, this is going nowhere, you’re a worthy opponent, the only one I can truly respect, blah blah and then they call a breather and Slade’s like hey kid, wanna grab a beer and Dick’s like yeah but only if you promise not to kill anyone. And Slade’s like ugh fine.

And then Slade’s all, look kid, its been fun but its time you went home to your real family and your real life, this isn’t you, you’re a hero, I can’t try and turn you into something you’re not, its Wrong. And Dick’s like….umm yeah, I know, I literally JUST said that, how hard did I hit you? And Slade’s like NO SHHH, DONT TRY AND ARGUE, GO, YOU GO NOW, GO ON, LIVE YOUR LIFE, YOU DONT BELONG HERE IN THE DARK WITH ME, YOU’RE ONE OF THE GOOD ONES, GO BACK TO YOUR OWN KIND.

And Dick’s like no seriously dude, I already called my dad to come pick me up, what are you even on right now, are we having the same conversation?

Slade, sobbing paternally: I HAVE TO LET YOU GO, ALL I EVER DO IS HURT MY KIDS, I’M A TERRIBLE FATHER, ITS NO WONDER JOEY HATES ME.

And then Dick awkwardly slips out while Slade’s mid monologue, with his head thrown back yelling up at the sky and shaking his fists like WHY GOD WHY IS THIS THE WORLD WE LIVE IN WHY - because the thing about Slade is he’s actually even MORE of a drama queen than Dick, he just hides it better. Most of the time. But seriously tho.

Anyway yeah, this is like…a pattern with them basically. And Slade’s like, you’ve inspired me, I see in you the man I could’ve become, maybe even that I can still be, and he like doubles down on his personal honor code and becomes a Mercenary With A Heart for a couple years and even helps out the Titans every now and then (basically just whenever Dick’s in trouble and he goes on a killing spree, like NOBODY IS ALLOWED TO MURDER MY KIDS BUT ME - also by this point in time, Joey had died because Slade literally killed him, I forget why, it was a dumb story, but its okay Joey came back, its not like his name is Uncle Ben. But yeah, killing his kids is kinda a thing with Slade too, and he’s very proprietary about it).

And then he falls off the wagon and is like fuck, I forgot how much I like murder, ugh, you should have never tried to make me change, THIS IS WHO I AM, and Dick’s just like….I literally do not know where you’re getting these conversations from, like am I there when you think we’re having them, am I just blacking out…do I need to see a doctor??? And Slade’s like YOU WILL RUE THE DAY YOU EVER MET ME, GRAYSON, FROM NOW ON I AM THE TITANS’ MORTAL ENEMY and runs off all dramatically while Dick’s like…..wut, and all the other Titans are like srsly, dude, what is WITH you too, and Dick’s all I DON’T EVEN KNOW, HE’S JUST LIKE THAT.

In all seriousness though, ultimately my take on their dynamic is that for Slade, Dick’s a combination of seeing himself and Grant in Bruce and Dick’s dynamic, and its like….all about his regret and missed opportunities. Like, he tends to be super judgey of Bruce and critical of how he trains (and raises Dick) and passive aggressively like *I* would never do that and Dick just kinda lifts an eyebrow and is all, you’ve literally killed two of your three kids.

But like, Slade kinda views himself as the anti-Batman and thus Dick is inadvertently cast as Grant, but its like Slade can never decide if he thinks Bruce is actually holding Dick back from his full potential and he wants to push Dick the way he thinks Bruce refuses to, or if like, he blames Bruce for getting Dick involved in this life, the same life that got Grant killed, and wants to protect Dick from Bruce and from the same thing happening to him. So its this weird mix of Slade manipulating Dick sometimes and pushing him way further than even Bruce ever does and saying its for his own good, but also randomly mixed in there are these bouts of extreme protectiveness, and there’s like zero rhyme or reason to which he is on any given day and there’s never any way to predict where Slade will land and so it always fucks with Dick’s head in a big way, he’s like…I’m getting whiplash.

And then on Dick’s end, like, the thing about Dick like I’ve mentioned before is he’s a huge people pleaser? Like he’s a very empathetic caretaker type personality who sinks a huge amount of his identity into being everything for everyone, to the extent that he tends to lose sight of himself in the process, sometimes. And he’s also a perfectionist who was raised with the most demanding father of all demanding fathers ever, and has a lot of abandonment issues and insecurities that Bruce’s mutant power is to trip over and set off in the worst possible ways.

And so I think the reason Dick keeps seeking Slade out every now and then is not because he ACTUALLY wants to ever take Slade up on his offer and genuinely become his apprentice or partner and like, turn his back on how he was raised. I think the point of it for Dick is the fact that each and every time he ends up affirming for himself no, wait, this ISN’T actually what I want, I just needed to be reminded of that, to remember that. That he always pulls himself back before going too far. And at the same time, I do think on some level he likes that Slade is this kinda constant in his life, that at the end of the day Slade is like…so fixated on his potential and his achievements and his worth as a fighter and a hero, because like….Dick Grayson is a person who craves validation but will never ask for it ever.

And he’s one of those people who everyone is just so USED to liking without even thinking about it that it never occurs to them when talking amongst themselves about how great he is, that they forget to say this to his actual face? And so he never hears it? And never asks for it, because gasp, then people might think he’s needy, and that would be bad, so he mostly just goes and sulks in his apartment about how nobody likes him and he’s terribad. Except for Slade. Slade always compliments him on what a good fighter and what a good planner and what a good leader he is, so hmm wonder what he’s doing. He hasn’t committed any crimes in six months and I can’t find any reason to track him down and bring him in? Ugh, that asshole. Okay, ummm, I guess I could tell him I’m thinking of turning evil again, I haven’t done that in a couple years, he’d probably buy it.

And then later Bruce is pacing around the Batcave wrathfully shaking his fist, like “Damn that man and his sick hold over my son, if only I knew how he keeps getting his hooks into you!”

And Dick basically shrugs and plays games on his phone. “He mostly just tells me I’m special, and that’s nice to hear.”

Bruce, still pacing and ranting and fist shaking: “What kind of evil genius is he, how master a manipulator he must be to be able to get inside your head and upend your normal views of right and wrong, to make you entertain these ideas of working with him, learning from him…”

Dick: No its seriously just the saying nice things about me bit. I like that.

Bruce: If only I had a code word or phrase I could use to snap you out of whatever brainwashing he seems to be able to affect you with any time you come near him, perhaps some kind of alien tech….

Dick: You could try “I’m proud of you, son.” I mean if you’re taking suggestions.

Bruce: There’s also the possibility of a magical component to consider, blast, I hate working with magic so of course he WOULD do something like that, ugh I suppose I could ask Zatanna or Jason Blood for help there…

Dick: Cool cool, well this has been a fun and productive chat as always, so you keep doing…all that…and meanwhile I’m gonna go ponder my fixation on father figures who are 100% more committed to obsessing over their failures as a parent than like…actual parenting of their actual kids.

Bruce, ten minutes later: Dick? Where are you? DID SLADE GET TO YOU AGAIN? RIGHT UNDER MY NOSE? CURSE THAT MAN AND HIS UNNATURAL SKILLS, HOW DOES HE DO IT??!?

Anyway, that’s Slade and Dick. There’s also the whole Renegade thing, when Dick asked for Slade’s help in infiltrating the Society of Super Villains in his fake villain identity as Renegade, with you know, lots of Slade trying to corrupt him and also trying to murder any supervillains who looked as his not!son the wrong way.

And then there was the time Slade brought his daughter Rose to Dick to train and said he couldn’t teach her himself because his track record with training his kids and them not ending up dead is like, not good, and he’s superstitious or something? Idk, I forget his logic, it was probably bad though.

And Slade was like, I only trust you to be a competent teacher for my daughter, I want you to teach her everything you know! Except for like, being a hero. None of that nonsense. I FORBID you from trying to make my daughter into a hero or the deal is off. (The deal being that if Dick did this, Slade would not do crime in Dick’s city for a year).

And Dick was like, you got a deal. I will train Rose but there will be NO trying to make her a hero, I swear. /he said while crossing his fingers behind his back because duh.

And Slade was like okay, fine, you got a deal, I will absolutely still do crime and be villainous but only in every place except for Bludhaven specifically. /he said while crossing his fingers behind his back because duh.

And then Dick tried to make Rose a hero and then Slade blew up Bludhaven and that was definitely a thing, so…yeah.

In summation, Slade and Dick are weird but also very interesting but also if we get another rehash of the Renegade/apprentice arc aka the Teen Titans cartoon adaptation of that story aka the single most popular Dick Grayson fic trope of all time, like….I swear I will probably get a brain bleed.

#Anonymous

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lambroseforlife · 7 years ago

Note

Rewrite of the first scene, but with the au where you're colorblind until you see your soulmate (preferably where they're both too shocked to say anything until Lilly's dragged out of the polling office)

What an intriguing suggestion. This prompt was the first time I had ever heard of the colorblind soulmate AU so I had to do some research and read fanfics from other fandoms to get a general idea of it.

I dont know if I correctly wrote out what you suggested in parenthesis, anon. But to make up for it, I decided to try to one-up your request. I figured this oneshot would make for an…interesting read from Rikkard Ambrose’s POV (“wow sooo original lambroseforlife, as if there arent like 1536364324262 fanfics out there with this style already”).

This was definitely tougher to write than Lilly’s POV but I tried my best to make it CLOSELY parallel the Ambrose POV chapter from Book 1. Here you go!

**Text in <bold font> is dialogue taken from the series and belongs to Robert Thier.**

— — —

‘Ah! Would you just look at that! What a sight to see! There’s just no place like London! No place like it whatsoever! Don’t you agree, Sir?’

Silence.

‘Just listen to those sounds! Nothing else has ever felt so welcoming! It’s a treat for the ears! Isn’t it wonderful, Sir?’

Silence.

‘Can you smell that? Just take a whiff of that fresh sea air, Sir! Air so fresh! No air like that anywhere else! What do you think, Sir?’

Silence.

‘I’ve been all over the world. I’ve travelled everywhere there is to see. The coasts of Brazil, the islands in the West, all European ports, but there is no place as wonderful as home. Isn’t it nostalgic, Sir?’

My head slowly turned to meet the Captain’s bright smile. Cold eyes drilled into his.

‘What exactly, Captain? The fog, the people yelling, or the pollution?’

His smile didn’t diminish as I expected. ‘Everything,of course! Isn’t it great to be returning to England, Mr Ambrose?’ He clapped a wrinkled hand on my shoulder.

In lieu of a dagger, I used my eyes. They dug into his hand still grasping my shoulder, then at him. I said nothing as the seconds ticked by.

Eighteen seconds…

Forty-two seconds…

One minute and twenty-five seconds…

Two minutes and seven seconds…

His smile faded and he withdrew his hand. ‘Um…I will go check on the rest of the, er, crew.’

He retreated. I didn’t bother glancing at his departing form. I stared out at the approaching harbour, growing bigger with every passing minute.

‘Sahib?’

‘Yes?’ I addressed the man standing behind me. I still didn’t move.

‘The Captain says we’re close to docking, Sahib.’

‘Adequate. Go check on the goods.’

‘I will immediately, Sahib.’

Silence. But no retreating footsteps.

‘Sahib?’

‘What is it, Karim?’

‘Is Dalgliesh awaiting our arrival? Will he have something planned?’

I turned to look at him. With his turban atop his head, his arms were crossed and his dark eyes were focused ahead, glaring into the grey distance.

‘Do you expect that he does?’

‘I do, Sahib.’

‘Then he won’t, Karim.’ My hand dug into my tailcoat pocket, making sure that the loaded revolver was there. ‘One should expect the unexpected, not the expected.’

His eyes met mine. ‘You have a point, Sahib.’ His hand twitched, towards the direction of his sabre hanging from his belt.

Silence again.

‘I will go check on the cargo, Sahib.’ The looming figure of my bodyguard diminished into the mist.

I turned my head back towards the impending harbour, ever growing closer. Black and white highlighted the distance. Multitudes of grey tones illuminated the sky.

Unbidden, I heard a young woman’s voice.

‘I’m sure if you meet the right girl, she will be like sunshine, brightening up your life.’¹

I shook my head. Why was I remembering her words now? Out of all the unlikely times.

The absurd notion of seeing “colour” from meeting your “soulmate” was a needless complication and more likely, both merely exaggerated hoaxes. What I could see now was more than enough.

However, if only a similar idea extended to sensation. It would have been extremely useful against the current weather. I tipped my hat down over my face, to shield from the worst of the wind. It wasn’t very effective.

As my destination loomed closer, realisation struck. It was almost a decade since I had been here, back in England. I had been much younger then, running from…

Something churned in my gut and I ignored it.

Probably just hunger.

— — —

‘Mr Ambrose, how does it feel to be back from the colonies?’

‘Mr Ambrose, what is the secret to your wealth?’

‘A statement, Mr Ambrose, on the upcoming elections! Which party do you support?’

A pack of reporters circled the gangway as Karim and I descended from the ship. I narrowed my eyes, disregarding them the same way that I did to those requesting charity.

I gave them the same response as well. Rather, a lack of one. Ignoring them, I stepped down from the gangplank and onto the landing.

One reporter in particular remained in place, blocking my way. My eyes bored into his, unblinking. He gulped, but still refused to move. The man’s courageous spirit was admirable, although foolishly misplaced.

‘Is it true that recently, you deliberately betrayed a business associate and had him arrested to obtain and resell his property?’

‘I did.’

‘What?’

‘Yes. I exposed him, purchased his property and resold it so it could be demolished to build a railroad. Does that answer your question?’

He stared at me, slack-jawed. ‘But that’s unethical, even for business! Where’s your sense of honour as a gentleman? Your conscience?’

I cocked my head. I had been mistaken, unfortunately. It seemed that this man lacked courage and was just utterly foolish.

‘Conscience?’

I took a step towards him and he took a step back.

‘Haven’t you heard of the saying?’ I asked.

One step forward. One step back in response.

‘All is fair in love and war.’ I continued.

Another step forward. Another step back and…

Splash!

The reporter fell into the water. The distracted fool had forgotten to pay attention to his surroundings. Big mistake.

‘Especially war.’

I raised an eyebrow at his sputtering form as he resurfaced from the sea, gasping for air. I turned my gaze to rest of the convened hyenas, frozen in shock.

‘Well? Any other questions?’

Unfreezing, they fled.

‘That went smoother than expected.’ Karim remarked, beside me.

‘Indeed. But it seems we have another problem.’

The reporters had left but from the commotion, a crowd of people had formed. Their expressions were all identical, eyes widened in disbelief at the current scene.

‘Do you want me to handle this, Sahib?’

‘No need.’ Stepping forward, I stared down at the individuals among the forelines of the crowd. Their eyes directly met mine. I could see curiosity and fear mingled in them. I narrowed my eyes again. My head jerked upwards, once.

Wordlessly, they began to part from the middle. The people behind them followed suit and so forth. The crowd eventually split in half, forming a pathway for me and my bodyguard to cross. As we walked through the crowd, I could hear various whispers.

‘Is that…?’

‘Rikkard Ambrose! Rumour has it that he left here a decade ago…’

‘One of the richest men from the British Empire!’

‘…pretty good looking too if I do say so myself.’

I kept my eyes focused straight ahead and tuned them out. Gods didn’t concern themselves with the buzzing of insects.

Well, from what I had been told. Doing so otherwise sounded like a complete waste of time.

We exited out into one of the streets. Karim didn’t stray from his spot behind me when I stopped.

‘What now, Sahib?’

I reached into my pocket and withdrew a written slip of paper, handing it to him.

‘Is this the address of the office?’

A curt nod.

‘Should I get a cab, Sahib?’

I shook my head.

‘Are we walking there?’

Another curt nod.

‘Very well, Sahib.’

Without another word, we both headed straight into the fog.

— — —

Plink.

A minute passed. No answer.

Plink.

Thirty seconds. Still no answer.

Plink.

Ten seconds. Silence.

This was ridiculous! Three messages and no response? Was it too much to expect diligence from employees, more specifically, personal secretaries? With additional emphasis on the personal part, they were supposed to immediately respond to their employers!

I was about to pull the lever to send another message through the pneumatic tube— my designated method of efficient communication throughout the building for the due intention of saving time— when I realised it was not fulfilling its intended purpose.

‘Simmons!’ I called out.

Still silence.

I stood up, the chair scraping against the bare stone floor as it was shoved back. I marched over to the door connecting my office with his and threw open the door.

Emptiness. The only exception being the dust motes floating in the air.

My hand reached into the pocket of my waistcoat, retrieving my watch. I ignored the symbol on the silver lid as the watch opened, displaying the time. Exactly thirty-two minutes and fifty-eight seconds past ten in the morning. Where was Simmons? For the first time since my arrival in London, he was late.

I checked through his desk drawers for a note. Nothing. In fact, the entire desk was empty. Almost as if…

I marched back into my office and grabbed the mouthpiece that led down to the floor below.

‘Karim? Come up now! Simmons is missing!’

Twenty-three seconds later, Karim entered my office. Upon seeing my expression, he wordlessly headed into the adjacent office, searching the room. I could hear items being shuffled around and drawers opening while I waited.

‘No results, Sahib.’ Karim rematerialised at the doorway, confirming my suspicions. He shook his head. ‘The room is completely emptied of his belongings.’

‘Check the rest of the building. If you happen to find him, then personally inform him my opinions on tardiness.’

‘I will do so, Sahib.’

Approximately twenty-seven minutes and twelve seconds later, Karim returned. His eyebrows were furrowed. He shook his head again. ‘Still nothing, Sahib. He’s not in this building.’

My eyes narrowed. That could only mean one thing. ‘Then he permanently left.’

‘It seems so, Sahib. He must have decided to quit his job.’

‘Quit? Why quit now? He was here for nearly three years before I arrived.’

‘I have no idea, Sahib. He didn’t leave anything behind that could have explained. No resignation letter, no personal items, nothing at all.’

My eyes narrowed even further. The gall of that imbecile! He didn’t even have the patience for me to personally sack him.

‘Sahib,’ Karim spoke up again, ‘Did you want me to post an advertisement for a job opening in The Times?

My eyes shot up to glare at him. ‘Karim, are you insane? Do you have any idea how much it costs for a newspaper advertisement nowadays?’

‘I do not, Sahib.’

‘Too exorbitant to be sensible, that’s how much! Never mind that. I’ll have to find another way to hire a replacement. Until then, I’ll manage on my own.’

— — —

A few days later, I glowered at the significantly sized pile of letters sitting on my desk, willing them to make themselves scarce through the force of my eyes. For some reason, it didn’t seem to work. It was the appointed task of my secretary to sort through my mail. But as that position was currently unoccupied, the responsibility had fallen to me.

‘Are you sure about not advertising the open position, Sahib?’ The deep voice rumbled above me.

I didn’t answer. Instead, I riffled through the envelopes, promptly dumping the ones with dainty penmanship or extravagant designs into the waste paper bin.

‘Those could be crucial correspondence from business associations.’ Karim nodded to the discarded letters.

‘Not for the type of business I desire to conduct.’ I gave him a pointed look.

‘I see, Sahib. My apologies.’

‘Any recent news from the estate agents?’

‘I have not heard anything from them, Sahib.’

‘Convey our urgency, Karim. I need another office in the countryside for my business dealings.’ I steepled my fingers as I glanced around the stark, dimly lit interior of my office. ‘Negotiations aren’t proceeding as smoothly in here as I would like.’

‘I wonder why, Sahib.’

‘I do too, Karim. It would be a waste of investment otherwise if these deals weren’t so crucial.’

Before he could respond, a voice came from one of the speaking tubes on my desk. I picked it up and recognised the other person as Mr Stone, from the inquiry desk.

‘Mr Ambrose, there is a young boy here to see you. He says he was sent by Mr Elseworth from Elseworth and Brown, estate agents.’

Karim and I looked at each other before I spoke. ‘Send him in.’

‘Yes, Mr Ambrose, Sir.’

I set the tube back down on the desk when knocking came from the door. A moment later, the door opened and the message boy stepped in.

‘Mr Elseworth sent you?’

‘He did, Guv. You was looking for a place in the country?’

‘I still am.’

‘Mr Elseworth’s got a place for you. He’s downstairs waiting since ‘e heard you wanted a place real quick.’

‘Let’s go, Karim. We’ll see what Mr Elseworth has to offer.’ I stood up and followed the boy downstairs to the entrance.

Once my feet stepped onto the stone floor of the main hall, the workers noticed my presence. They halted, all eyes transfixed on me.

I met the eyes of the sallow-faced receptionist. Mr Pearson was his name, from what my memory recalled. His face lost colour and he bent over in a small bow before resuming his work.

My icy gaze flashed back to the rest of the statues, fixing on their motionless figures for one second.

In the next, they moved again, doubling the speed to their destination.

Adequate. It seemed that news had spread since my initial arrival here.

When I had entered Empire House for the first time, there had been something called a ‘welcoming party’ arranged for me. It was organised by none other than Sallow-face himself. No doubt a lick-spittle ploy to fall into my good graces. It would have worked on anyone else— just not on me.

To my extreme displeasure, there had been banners and decorations. Even a garish brass band playing. The employees had been standing by them, not a single one doing his appointed task.

I had immediately put an end to the frivolous activity, of course. The band left once they realised they were not getting paid and that they would be thrown out instead. I ordered the employees to sell whatever they could and to dispose of the rest of the clutter. One man protested to my commands, insisting that ‘The garlands were specially multi-coloured!’

He had been permanently dismissed later that day.

Currently, I followed the boy across the hall as he led me to whom I assumed was Mr Elseworth. He resembled a pig, with a considerable figure and small beady eyes.

‘Mr Ambrose!’ He gave me a simpering grin, holding out his hand for me to shake. ‘Just the man I wanted to see! I believe I have something that you will like very much. I appreciate that you came all the way down here to escort me. Shall you lead the way back to your office and we—’

‘No.’ I ignored his extended hand. ‘I have business to attend to. We will talk on the way. Come.’

Without waiting for a response, I went outside. Approximately eight seconds later, Mr Elseworth appeared beside me, panting heavily to keep up with my pace.

‘Wouldn’t it be…better if…we discussed…this inside—’

‘No.’ Taking out my pocketwatch without breaking my stride, I checked the time. ‘I have somewhere to be in seventeen minutes and three seconds. If you have an offer to make, then make it now.’

— — —

Twelve minutes and forty three seconds had passed when I arrived at the street for my intended location. I had heard enough from Mr Elseworth with his acclamations on Wilding Park. In between his laboured breathing, I had discerned that it had ten bedrooms and the latest bathing amenities.

‘It’s simply spectacular, I tell you!’ He droned on mindlessly. ‘One of the best places I have ever I seen and I have seen a lot of places. A lot of places for my years.’

‘Is that so?’ My gaze was fixed on a particular building that had come into view. ‘How strange that you intend to sell it so easily.’

‘To you, of course, Mr Ambrose! I can tell that you’re a man after my own heart. With you, Wilding Park will be well cared for. I just know it. There is so much it has to offer…’

He continued rambling on. His servile chattering bored me. It was a waste of time, too much spent on a matter that didn’t need much thought. Country estates were the same, more or less.

‘Mr Elseworth,’ I cut him off, mid-flattery. ‘You have effectively expressed your opinion. I accept your offer.’

His round face beamed but I continued. ‘However, if I find that the place is…defective to your description, then I will be dissatisfied. Very dissatisfied. Do not forget that.’

His clammy pallor showed that he understood my words.

‘Karim?’ I waved my bodyguard forward. ‘Give him the money. I’m already busy as it is.’

Karim stepped closer to Mr Elseworth, ready to finish this deal— then paused. I was about to question him when I heard it.

To be more specific, someone clearing their throat.

‘Sir? Excuse me?’ The stranger’s voice was clear enough to be heard and high enough to be an inconvenience. Much time had been wasted today and I didn’t intend to waste any more. Whatever the person expected from me was going to be unfulfilled.

Due to the mist, I could faintly see a figure heading towards me. Until Karim grabbed the person by the arm, preventing their advance.

‘Leave, boy! You’re not wanted here!’ He snapped. ‘The Sahib doesn’t want your begging!’

‘I’m not asking him for money!’ The person countered in what resembled an irate tone. I was ready to have Karim take care of this and head towards my destination when the stranger continued. ‘I’m trying to help him save some, actually.’

I completely halted.

‘Save? Release him, Karim!’ I examined the individual more closely. He seemed to be a strange young man, with a loose-fitting tailcoat and pair of trousers that billowed on his figure save for his posterior. He had round cheeks and an outsized top hat that sat upon a tangled mess of dark hair. His eyes appeared to be also dark— from what I could discern. Traces of the fog were obscuring most of his irises given the distance. Regardless, the rest of his appearance did not reassure the credibility of his words.

‘Explain yourself.’ I icily glared at him. ‘How are you going to help me save money?’

Despite the ferocity of my eyes, he tried to step closer to me and had to be intercepted by Karim. Interesting. My glare was known to have the opposite effect on others. What a plucky boy. Either that or naive. Maybe both, given his juvenile impression.

‘I overheard some of your conversation with Mister…’ He swallowed, glancing over at the stout man staring angrily at him.

‘Elseworth.’

‘…Elseworth. Sir, do you plan to buy Wilding Park?’

‘I do. What’s it to you?’

‘Well…’ He rubbed at his neck nervously. ‘I would recommend that you don’t.’

‘How come?’ I cocked my head. I still couldn’t see his eyes completely but his stance seemed straightforward. A bit anxious, but still open. Did he have hidden intentions?

‘The place is rather decrepit and rundown in appearance.’

‘How do you know this?’

‘One of my relatives lives near there. My grandmother, actually. I have visited her a few times and noticed the place in passing. It isn’t the loveliest of houses.’

‘I am not interested in loveliness. Is it stable?’

‘It is, most definitely, Sir!’ Mr Elseworth interjected. His expression switched back to his previous angry glare, directed towards the young man. ‘This brat doesn’t know what he’s saying.’

‘It is not stable.’ The young man retorted, scowling back at him. It seemed that he had more backbone than initial appearance.

‘How so?’ I asked.

‘The area around the house was overrun with weeds. The house itself had growing stains around the base as well as missing windows and broken roof tiles. Once, while inside my coach, I overheard the caretaker yelling about roaches in the house and rats on the grounds.’

‘You noticed all this from just seeing the place at a distance a few times?’

‘I did.’

‘Hm. Exactly what I need.’

‘But Sir, I just explained that Wilding Park is not—’

‘Never mind the house. I meant you.’

‘What?’ He pointed to himself hesitantly.

‘Yes. You, young man.’ I turned to Karim. ‘Dispose of Mr Elseworth accordingly. He has breached the terms of our agreement.’

Karim gave a nod. I disregarded the squeals of terror as I returned my attention back to the young man.

‘My previous secretary quit my employ a few days ago for an incomprehensible reason. Now I need a new secretary. With your memory and fast thinking, you would be the ideal man for the position.’

The young man blinked rapidly and I heard a choking noise.

‘Um…the ideal man? I apologise, Sir, but I don’t think I would fit your particular standards.’

What? Why was he choosing now, out of all times, to be humble?

‘Are you illiterate?’

‘No, I’m not but…’

‘Are you currently employed?’

‘No, but…’

‘Then it’s decided.’ I stated with absolute finality. ‘My office. Exactly nine on Monday morning. Do not be late.’

I reached into my pocket and stepped forward, holding out my business card towards him.

‘Take this.’

The last of the fog faded and I could see the young man clearly. His irises were dark as I suspected, and looking at me in widened shock. His eyes practically bulged out when I came into his view. His jaw dropped.

What was wrong with him? Was his mental state not as sound as I had assumed?

‘Hello? Here, my card.’ I waved the item out.

That’s when it happened.

It started from his eyes, spreading out to the rest of his face. Something smeared, trickling down to the rest of his body and then outwards everywhere.

What was this?

I blinked, trying to clear my vision. It didn’t work. Like a stain, something was stuck to my eyes.

Was this…

No.

It couldn’t be.

Was this…

Was this colour?

How disorienting. I felt pain pulsate in my skull. It was unprepared for the onslaught of… of this.

I was unprepared.

Wait.

If I was seeing in colour then that meant…

I heard her voice again.

‘One day, you’ll meet that special someone, and it will change everything.’²

No.

Nonononono. No!

It couldn’t be!

This is just a coincidence, I told myself. Nothing more than a coincidence.

Or a joke.

A really bad one.

His hand reached out towards mine and I tensed. Why was he…

He tentatively grasped the edge of my business card, choosing to focus his gaze on it.

‘I’m surprised, Sir.’ He softly murmured. ‘I didn’t expect a job offer.’

Oh, right.

Focus! Don’t forget your original purpose. You can’t afford distractions.

Instantly, I smoothed my expression out, making sure it was blank. Cold. Impenetrable.

‘Make sure that “surprise” isn’t common for you while you work for me. I expect efficiency and attentiveness from my employees.’

Without waiting for a response, I whirled away and headed down the street, with Karim right on my heels. I was already reconsidering my job offer to the young man but the alternative was worse. I couldn’t stand opening another gaudy envelope pestering me to donate or attend social events. If the young man showed up on Monday, then adequate. If not, then…I had underestimated his courage. But…

It would have been safer.

Preposterous, I chided myself. Soulmates didn’t exist just because colour did. It was simply an invalid justification for one of life’s unexplained mysteries.

Even so, one thing did exist: capital offence. An example of which was buggery.

Not that I would ever commit such a crime. The only times I had ever felt anything close to pleasure was while tallying my annual profits.

But upon remembering the glazed look in the young man’s eyes, there was no doubt that he had experienced the same thing when he saw me. Seeing in colour.

Even now, the idea was still unbelievable. I would have laughed at the absurdity of the entire situation if I hadn’t forgotten how to years ago.

The universe was going to pay for this. I would make sure of that.

With ten percent added interest.

— — —

Colour looked like a… a catastrophe. Like things couldn’t decide what they wanted to be so they settled on greediness, taking a bit of everything. So complicated.

Needlessly, unnecessarily complicated.

It took me longer than expected to reach my destination. Disoriented, I had nearly stumbled twice while walking. Twice. The headache behind my eyes had not abated.

Displeased, I peered up at the sign above the entrance. Bradley and Bullard’s Bank, it read in very dark lettering. Black, I think?

Once, when I was much younger, I had found a discarded pamphlet about colour. Printed squares labelled as red or blue appeared identical to me. The pamphlet explained that from birth, people could only see in what was referred to as the “monochrome spectrum”. The only three distinguishable colours were black, white and grey. Far more simple and efficient.

‘Sahib?’ Karim spoke next to me, concern in his voice. ‘Are you unwell? Maybe we should return another time.’

‘No. I will finish this now. It’s pointless to waste another trip.’

‘As you wish, Sahib.’ He stepped into the establishment first, as a bodyguard would. I followed after him.

Upon our entrance, the various people chatting and writing stopped. Their eyes spotted Karim and his sabre first, then landed on me.

Disregarding the line of people waiting for the counter, I strode over to the nearest clerk.

‘You! How much is this bank?’ I pinned him in place with my eyes.

‘Er… our accounts have low fees for both regular and stock—’

I tutted. ‘Incorrect answer. How much is this bank?’

The man stared at me in confusion, his dark eyes assessing me. They travelled down my figure, lingering over my simple and plain black attire. When they returned to my face, they had narrowed into slits. Commonplace halfwit. I knew he had assumed wrongly based off of my appearance.

‘Sir, I’m afraid I cannot understand your request. There seems to be a misunderstanding.’

‘Yes. On your part entirely.’

He stuck his nose upwards. ‘I’m going to have to request that you move, Sir. You are stalling the line.’

Wordlessly, I reached into my pocket and withdrew another business card. My eyes never left his as I slid it across the counter.

His gaze flickered to the card, reading my engraved name. His blanched face slowly rose up to meet my stare.

‘Where’s your manager?’

‘M-My apologies, Mr Ambrose, Sir. I will fetch him right away.’

He scrambled, speeding towards the back of the bank. While I waited, I picked up the card and pocketed it again. They were expensive to order and I couldn’t afford to waste them.

My gaze drifted down to the counter. It was painted a darker colour, not black but something close to it. It looked familiar but I couldn’t recall why.

That is, until a pair of widened eyes flashed in my vision. His ey—

I clamped down on that thought. Hard. With such ferocity, my teeth ground together from the effort.

The headache must have impaired my thinking. That could be the only reason. There was no other possible explanation.

‘Mr Ambrose?’ A new voice called.

My focus moved upwards. The clerk was accompanied by another man whom I presumed was the manager.

‘I’m Mr Frank Wilson, the manager of this establishment. Mr Charles informed me that you wish to purchase this bank?’

‘Indeed.’

‘I see. Why don’t we discuss this…more privately? We can talk in my office.’

‘Yes. Before that, I have a question.’

‘Yes?’

‘What colour is this counter?’

What the heck? Why did I ask that?

‘Excuse me?’

‘You are excused. Now answer the question.’

‘I-I’m not— uh, I can’t…” He stammered.

So he didn’t know. He couldn’t see colour either. It was unwise and impulsive of me to assume so. Why had I taken leave of my senses? My mental state was deteriorating rapidly. The sooner I finished my business and left this place, the better.

‘Brown.’

The gruff voice came somewhere behind me. I turned around to see an old man, waiting at the front of the line.

‘It’s called brown.’

His weathered face held no expression but his sharp eyes met mine directly, without trepidation. There was a knowing glint in them that I immediately distrusted.

I gave him a curt nod, then turned back to the two confused men standing in front of me.

‘Lead the way, Mr Wilson. We have business to discuss.’

— — —

Approximately seven minutes later, I left Bradley and Bullard’s Bank as its new owner. Karim had the written proof of the transaction details safely tucked away.

‘Did this deal go according to your liking, Sahib?’

I inhaled, glancing around the crowded street. ‘I suppose so. For now.’

Most of my headache had cleared, its remnants causing the occasional throb. Nothing that the prospect of money couldn’t fix.

‘One day the bank of England, Sahib.’

I nodded. One day.

‘Sahib…’ Karim hesitated. ‘What you asked in the bank, does that mean—’

‘Patriarchal oppressors!’ A screech drowned out Karim’s voice. ‘Chauvinist pigs!’

I turned towards the commotion to see—

Someone familiar?

Yes, it was. Karim and I stared at the defiant figure being carted out of a polling station by officers down the street. Someone too familiar. The young man I had met no less than half an hour ago. My new secretary.

Snapping out of my paralysis, I marched over to the two police officers. This was not good. The police would have to overlook this until I had found a suitable replacement.

‘Officer, what is happening here? Why are you taking that young man?’ I demanded.

The constable looked up and upon seeing me, froze. Unlike Mr Charles, he recognised me, judging by his shocked expression. His next words confirmed it.

‘Mr Ambrose, Sir!’ He saluted quickly with one hand before it returned back to restrain my replacement secretary. The young man was struggling in a fruitless endeavour for freedom. ‘Sir, which young man are you referring to?’

My eyes shifted to young man he was gripping onto then back to him. Was it not obvious enough?

‘The one you’re restraining. Who else? Why are you taking him?’

‘Mr Ambrose, Sir, I don’t know how to break this gently…but this person isn’t a young man.’ He grabbed the young man’s black hat and yanked it off. A headful of brown strands spilt out. Almost the same colour as the youth’s eyes. ‘A young woman. She’s a girl, Sir.’

What?

No.

My lips parted to speak. No sound came out.

For the first time in a long time, I had no idea what to say.

‘Is something the matter, Mr Ambrose, Sir?’

Silence. But not deliberate from my end. I had no response for him. Almost a minute had passed when he glanced at the other officer. ‘If you don’t mind, Mr Ambrose, we have to take her away. Perhaps she’ll learn her place as a female after staying overnight in a cell.’

The other officer shook his head. ‘A woman voting? What an absurd idea! Before you know it, more might even demand for a job!’

They both chuckled, but I hardly registered the sound. My mouth snapped shut at the realisation.

Job.

Woman.

A woman’s job.

No!

A headache started to throb at my temples for the second time within the hour. Ice crawled down my spine only to fester into fury in my chest. My freezing glare sought one target only to find him— no, her— already staring at me.

The mal— female’s brown eyes met mine, unblinking. Unlike the drab shade of bank counter, they were bold. Bright. Stubborn. Annoying. They refused to cower to the glacial wrath sparking out of mine.

The police had nearly dragged her around the corner, when she grinned at me. She called out before she was pulled out of sight.

‘Looking forward to seeing you at work on Monday, Sir!’³

It seemed that I now had another problem instead.

One far bigger than buggery.

— — —

Phew! This took a LOT of brushing up on the main series to write. As I said, my goal was to have this chapter parallel VERY closely to the Ambrose POV chapter of Storm and Silence but with the twist that anon asked for. So I kept major events but modified them since anon requested me for a rewrite. I hope that this oneshot is passable for an Ambrose POV.

*Original series quote sources:

¹Before the Storm, Chapter 16: ‘Paths and Rails’

²Before the Storm, Chapter 16

³Storm and Silence, Chapter 1: ‘Arrested for Good Manners’

#kinda an ask #answered #storm and silence #lilly linton #rikkard ambrose #karim #fanfiction #oneshot #writing prompt #prompt 4 #knowledgeispoweristimeismoney #a decent read for disappointed radish readers

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sw-daydreamer · 7 years ago

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Forgiveness is the path to redemption.

The catalyst in the creation of Kylo Ren is the precise moment Luke thinks about killing his nephew, albeit for a mere couple of seconds.

There are 2 different versions of that scene.

TWO different points of view.

Ben remembers seeing hatred in his uncle’s eyes while Luke remembers feeling shame... and seeing the fear in his nephew’s eyes.

Their emotions are colouring the way they remember things, especially Ben, because he was young and afraid. The brain is complex, and so is memory recall. You can be convinced of remembering something accurately, but your state of mind at the time might have altered your perception of actual events, worse even, the brain is actually capable of “reconstructing false memories” to fill in the gaps and recreate a story that never truly existed. The reasons behind that can vary from a trauma to ‘suggestion’ (made to believe it happened and thus creating the memory).

However, Luke did think about killing Ben and he did activate his lightsaber, that is not a lie. Variations between the 2 stories are subtle, but they’re not just about reading expressions and intent.

1- What are the differences?

2- Why are the memories so different?

3- Forgive who and what?

1- What are the differences?

Luke’s memories: (2nd retelling)

You can see Luke’s fleeting anger, barely formed...

(close up shot, we are meant to read him easily and the lightsaber is barely visible, mainly outside the frame, therefore diminishing its impact, it does not threaten)

The anger is already fading away, in a couple of seconds. Luke then lowers his lightsaber.

(close up shot, the focus on micro emotions is visible, the features are relaxing, the tension is leaving, and the lightsaber has not moved. Regret is clear and obvious.)

Yet that moment is witnessed by Ben... (extreme close up on the face / eye)

which fills Luke with shame. He looks at him imploring his forgiveness,

(close up shot, Luke’s face is tilted, no lightsaber in the frame. He is pleading and there is no threat visible. We are meant to understand his mistake and empathise)

Ben grabs his lightsabers and attacks him. Luke is actually in a defensive position here, and screams “Ben, no!”

(Medium shot, the lightsabers are taking 1/3 of the frame. Ben’s face is slightly visible in the frame: Luke’s memories are hyper aware of Ben’s actions and reactions. Luke’s face is in full light, we see clearly his features, begging Ben to stop.)

We’re meant to believe this version of events even more so because it’s the second time we are told the story from Luke’s point of view, after being pressured by Rey to tell the truth, he is giving up the lie by omission, he is admitting the sin.

Ben’s memories:

Ben wakes up, and see his uncle ready to strike him.

(medium low angle shot, allows us to see Luke almost fully. Surrounded by darkness, there is a clear visible threat with the activated lightsaber, in the center of the frame. Because of the distance created by the medium shot we can’t easily read his expression, but his posture, shows him about to attack. The low angle shot accentuates the idea of power over Ben, who is absent from the frame.)

His facial features are showing no signs of regret, only anger and darkness.

(close up shot, to further confirms the danger.)

He raises his lightsaber to strike.

Ben is the one in a defensive position here.

(medium low angle shot, The threat and dominance emanating from Luke are accentuated by the low angle and the presence of the lightsabers in 2/3 of the frame as well as Luke’s features distorted by hatred. Ben’s face remains absent from the shot. He is coded as the victim, in a position of weakness.. )

His hand shooting up is also reminiscent of Rey’s grabbing the same lightsaber in the throne room, an allusion to power play and search for control.

From a narrative point of view Ben’s memories are more interesting because they are the images he probably plays over and over again to sustain his resentment and need for vengeance or reparation.

You did this... I will do it to you... you will hurt the way I did. / repeat.

2 - Why are the memories so different?

It may be due to the trauma of experiencing a direct threat from a person he should have trusted with his life. The memories must therefore match perfectly the acute distress he felt by painting Luke in a darker picture. Luke’s betrayal becomes a sin in his eyes, a corruption of his trust in family, love, and all human bonds and it is reflected in his mind. The memory is more in tune with his emotions at the time than the facts. It’s not done consciously.

His memories may also have been altered by Snoke’s manipulative influence before, adding bias and mistrust, and (or) after, distorting the reality of that fateful moment. When you are greatly hurt, it is only very natural to seek to protect yourself, and it is also so much easier to react to the hurt with anger and even violence, hence the creation of the Kylo Ren persona. Remembering Luke’s actions with such evil intent is also a way to refuse to forgive and keep justifying everyday the path of violence he has chosen.

His anger hides his vulnerability and hurt. It is a way to avoid feeling weak and foolish as Kylo himself puts it to his father in TFA:

“He was weak and foolish, like his father, so I destroyed him”

Kylo / Ben is referring to his attempt to destroy the part of himself that sees goodness in others, and trusts, while the part that feels anger and lacks empathy lives on.

3 - Forgive who and what?

Luke was so disheartened by the consequences of his act, that he drowned himself in self loathing and hopelessness. When he first tells Rey what happened on that day, he tells an incomplete and inaccurate story, because he is not ready to admit and voice the truth, he just can’t be seen as any different from what he was before that tragic moment. Luke the hero, Luke the Jedi Master who protects and saves, Luke the Legend. Instead, he hides, cutting himself off from the Force, he hides from his family, Leia, he hides from himself, from the truth. He blames the Jedi. He is in a sort of limbo, waiting, incapable of moving on, alone in personal grief and resentment.

// Luke: it’s time for the Jedi to end

Kylo / Ben : I’ll destroy you, and her, and all of it //

When Rey finally confronts him, he lets it all out, he acknowledges the shame he feels. It is freeing. Later he makes the conscious decision to let go of the self-hatred poisoning his mind, to open himself to the Force and to accept to feel vulnerable.

He forgives himself, when he finally stops hating himself.

On Crait he calls Ben “kid”, a term of endearment used by Han Solo, there is no resentment.

Luke is a flawed hero, who becomes a Legend all over again. He becomes one with the Force by choice. It is much more profound and inspiring to witness, because of his flaws, because the choices he finally made did not come easy.

I believe that Kylo/Ben will follow a similar path to forgiveness, though I am convinced there will be NO sacrifice of his life, power or limbs. I have explained before (see meta: Ben understood Luke’s sacrifice) how his wound of hurt and betrayal has been cleansed on Crait during his showdown with Luke. Luke’s sacrifice leaves him alone with his conscience and his own sin, and more than ever I think the killing of his father will haunt him in episode 9, as Luke foretells and as the fading dice foreshadow. It can’t be ignored.

He will have to choose to forgive himself, first by admitting that he is hurting from what he has done.... When Rey confronts him on the killing of his father, he deflects the question although we sense his pain and conflict through out the movie, he does not voice it, he does not admit it. He will have to stop hiding behind the Kylo Ren persona he created to look unafraid and powerful unlike the day his own blood thought the Galaxy might be better off without him.

Luke’s deeply moving sacrifice is also a catalyst to forge a new memory, where truth, forgiveness and unconditional love are now associated with the Legend of Luke Skywalker, his uncle, who sacrifices himself because he believes the Galaxy will be a better place with Ben Solo, because he trusts In Rey’s words, in her and in her plea.

For Kylo / Ben, forgiving HIMSELF means being able to reconcile the part of him he once despised for being weak, and the part of him who committed patricide.

Forgiveness is not forgetting, it is embracing failures from the past and letting go of the anger.

Forgiveness is needed to be whole.

#meta #ben solo #luke sywalker #kylo ren #reylo meta #reylo #luke #forgiveness #redemption #memories #i am sorry I am a redemption addict #I really believe in it #posted: 21-01-2018

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djarin-skywalkers · 7 years ago

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Resurrection ~ A Star Wars Story (Part 4 of ?)

Title: Resurrection

Rating: General

Word Count: 5,266

Characters: Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi

Summary: A father’s sacrifice, a son’s love, a second chance at life. An alternate ending to Return of the Jedi.

Chapter Summary: Anakin is visited by an old friend and makes a break-through.

Notes: I realize this is probably one hell of an overused trope in this fandom but I’m new here and this plot bunny would not leave me alone.

Read on AO3

Read on Fanfiction

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

It had been a very lonely couple of days. Luke had left on a two aimed mission with Leia and Han. Leia in attempt to bring aid to broken nations and Luke to find more force sensitive beings.

Luke's presence had been a daily comfort for the last month and he found he dearly missed him when he was gone.

Not to mention that the loneliness allowed him to wallow in the darkest corners of his mind.

There were still the nurses but they didn’t speak to him and he had no interest in speaking to them either.

He had been been making progress in his physical recovery and once he received new and updated prosthetics, he was able to start walking again. It took a little time to adjust to the differences, and it certainly came with pain and struggles but it was nice to be able to move around again.

After he started walking and was deemed safe, Threepio was no longer forced into standing at his room.

He found he surprisingly missed the droid also. It was his only connection to his time before Vader and as more and more time passed, he strangely found himself reaching for those memories.

The good memories, the few of them that there were. Winning the pod race on Tatooine, building C-3PO, seeing Padmé for the first time, training as a padawan under Obi-Wan, marrying Padmé, training Ahsoka, and the last good memory he could remember, the day Padmé told him she was pregnant.

The darkness had once consumed all those memories, locked them away where he couldn’t find them, could hold onto the one thing that would bring him back to the light.

It was Padmé’s death that sent him hurtling over the edge of darkness, and he still was in anguish at the thought of her, at what he had done, but he had their children, and he could see so much of her in Luke and Leia, and they were his light now.

Leia hadn't returned to see him but Luke continued to assured him it would only be a matter of time.

He wasn’t so sure.

He knew what it felt like to feel betrayed by those you believed to be family. Leia felt betrayed, in her own words and Leia was too much like him to let it go so easily.

As much as he liked finally being able to move around - Force knows if he had to remain trapped in that infernal bed for the rest of his days he surely would go mad - he wasn’t granted that much freedom.

The infirmary was small, housing only a few rooms and his the largest. Thankfully he was the only long term patient and the rooms were mostly empty, save for the quick first aid that needed to be done every once in a while. He had free roam of the wing according to Luke but Luke feared letting him amongst the rest of the people yet. Not for their safety, he assured him, but for his own peace of mind.

He knew he could have easily broken out of the simple locks but he had no need to terrorize the other residents and ruin his progress rebuilding what was left of his life.

Thankfully in the medbay there was also a door that led outdoors, one of the first places Luke had taken him once he could walk and where they spent most of their time together.

He couldn’t tell the difference between being outdoors or indoors, besides the scenery but Luke looked good and healthy in the fresh air, his skin brightened by the sun and so he found he enjoyed his time outdoors.

He spoke, just as he promised, about the Force, about what he had learned as a Jedi and as a Sith, and Luke listened eagerly.

He noticed of course when Luke would lean in, intrigued or recoiled and grew wary whenever he spoke of the dark side.

As he watched Luke practice his new skills, he began to finally feel like a father to him. His heart ached at the thought of the years they had missed and how he wished he could have watched Luke grow into the young man he was but he also felt grateful he had the chance to be with him now.

At every training session one thing was made even more clear to him: Luke was powerful but succeeded where he had failed to control his emotions. Luke did not repress them, he didn't have to and he saw for the first time what the Jedi could have been if not for their strict code and how Luke might actually be able to reform the order. He was eager to learn new information, quick to learn, and talented in applying all he had learned.

When he wasn’t teaching Luke, he listened to Luke's developing plans to reform the Jedi and his progress in doing so. In the last few weeks he was able to make his case to the senate which prompted his departure to find more force sensitive beings.

Even without Luke, he often found himself outdoors simply for the change in scenery and the distraction he so desperately needed. He spent a lot of time gazing up at the sky, wondering where his children were and how they were faring.

One morning, about four days after Luke had left, he awoke in a considerable amount of pain. There was a pounding in his head that would not stop and the phantom pain in his missing limbs, which had not bothered him for sometime, suddenly was agonizing.

He usually tried to ignore it, and was often successful, but without the motivation of Luke he couldn't quite get himself to move that day.

It faded as the day drew on but he still remained indoors, letting himself wallow.

“Anakin.”

The voice of his old master suddenly called to him through the silence and his chest tightened. For a moment nothing but a flash of blind rage passed over him, as it always had when he thought of Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan was dead, struck down by Vader’s lightsaber aboard the Death Star.

It was merely a manifestation of his guilty conscience that tormented him now.

You were my brother, Anakin!

For the first time he was able to clearly hear those words. They had fallen on deaf ears on Mustafar, the Dark Side telling him Obi-Wan was the enemy, that Obi-Wan didn't care.

He almost felt guilty for it but then remembered it was Obi-Wan who had left him there to die, had watched in silence as Anakin Skywalker slowly burned to his supposed death.

Brother. His inner voice scoffed. He betrayed me!

You betrayed him first. Another smaller voice told him. You betrayed all of them. It was Padmé's voice inside his head, she always was his voice of reason, pulling him back to rational thought.

Padmé was gone now and left by himself he seethed in his anger.

“Anakin.” Obi-Wan’s voice pressed again.

Once again, his anger roared to life and got the better of him and the lights flickered, the loose objects in the room rattled to the floor with the power of the Force. “Leave me alone, Obi-Wan.”

It was madness, speaking to the empty air but he felt a little mad these days.

There was a sudden audible sigh. “Always with the dramatics, Anakin.”

His eyes opened and found the ghostly figure of Obi-Wan Kenobi standing at the edge of his bed, a familiar look of exhausted frustration on his old face.

He closed his eyes tightly and then opened them again and there Obi-Wan still stood.

He had heard of force ghosts but had never actually seen one.

Although his former master’s presence was unwanted, he was grateful at least he hadn't gone completely insane.

“What are you doing here?” He asked calmly, though the anger continued to boil inside in the pit of his stomach.

“I've been keeping an eye on you. Your actions on the Death Star, it was very honorable, Anakin. You surprised me.”

He would have groaned if he could. “I don't care for your opinion of me, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan’s lips twitched in a familiar, smug little smirk which only infuriated him further. “Oh I know that isn't true.”

“You know nothing about me.”

Obi-Wan's smile faded. “Perhaps not. I thought I had a long time ago. The Anakin I knew I believed to be lost forever as soon as he pledged his allegiance to the Dark Side.”

“The Anakin you knew is gone.” He confirmed. Perhaps he was becoming Anakin again but certainly not as the young man Obi-Wan had known.

“The Anakin I knew never would have allowed harm to come to his son. I faced Vader aboard the first Death Star. It was Anakin who saved Luke on the second. I am rarely one to admit my wrongs but I believed you beyond saving, lost forever to the dark side. I was wrong.”

“Finally we agree on something.”

Obi-Wan chuckled, a small, half hearted chuckle but it sent a small strange wave of nostalgia through him. Obi-Wan spent a good amount of time scolding him, but there were many times they laughed together too. Many times he would say some offhand remark, do something outrageously dangerous Obi-Wan would try not to laugh, attempting to be the stoic Jedi Master he was meant to be, but there was no hiding the amusement in his eyes.

For the briefest of moments he saw that Obi-Wan again, master….friend….brother.

He pushed that memory, those thoughts to the back of his mind. That time was long lost, Obi-Wan was dead, gone, and he was no longer the young, hopeful padawan.

“We have both come a long way since our time together, Anakin."

He was suddenly acutely aware of how often Obi-Wan was using his name.

Aboard the Death Star, during their brief physical conflict, Obi-Wan had only referred to him by title, refusing to use the name Palpatine had given him, yet also refusing to connect the Sith to the Jedi he’d once known.

“Many actions to regret.”

“You admit you were at fault? I must admit that does surprise me.”

“I admit I was wrong in my understanding of the Force. That those who turned to the dark side were irredeemable. Your actions once you chose that path are inexcusable but you are not beyond saving. It just took a better man than I to bring you back.”

“If you are referring to my son, I must agree he is the better man. The Jedi you could never be.”

Obi-Wan lifted his brow. “I would have thought you wouldn't approve of your son becoming a Jedi.”

“The Jedi that I knew, no, I wouldn't. Luke insists he can rebuild and reform what the order used to be. I don't know if he will succeed but I believe he will try and I support what he is trying to do.”

“He wants so much to be like you, Anakin.” Obi-Wan shook his head wistfully.

“I know.” The image of Luke in his old robes came to mind. Thankfully Luke must have realized that the past should remain in the past and hadn’t worn them again. “His advantage is he has his mother's heart.”

Obi-Wan's face softened in a sad smile. “That he does.”

He suddenly grew inexplicably angry at the look on Obi-Wan’s face. The soft affection for his wife.

He suddenly realized, his heart clenching, that he was finally met with someone who knew the truth surrounding her death.

He found himself unable to speak, choked up with emotion, finally being so close to the truth.

“Obi-Wan.” He said slowly and Obi-Wan turned to look at him, his face carefully blank.

“Padmé….what happened to her? How did she die?”

Obi-Wan's face creased in a deep frown. “You may not like the answer you hear.”

“Tell me now.” The voice modulator did not allow him to shout, or growl, not as loud as he wanted to. He was desperate, clawing for the truth that had been withheld for so long. The truth might have been painful but it was necessary, he could no longer be tortured by the unknown.

Obi-Wan sighed. “Very well.” He cleared his throat and his face darkened. “You remember what you did to her on Mustafar?”

He certainly remembered Padmé coming to him, but he also remembered Obi-Wan and how he showed up shortly after. How Padmé wanted him to come with her and surrender himself to Obi-Wan.

He winced against flashes of harsh memories, feelings of anger, betrayal, and hatred bubbling up inside of him.

He remembered how he had lashed out at her because of Obi-Wan, because he believed she had taken his side.

“Yes.”

Obi-Wan nodded slowly. “She survived, long enough to get her safely to Polis Massa. She was in agony but she successfully gave birth to Luke and Leia. She named them, got to see them and then passed on shortly after. Her last words were of you, after all you had done she believed there was still good in you. A belief I did not share at the time.”

“Did I kill her?” He needed to know. Palpatine had told him so but Palpatine had also never mentioned his children and he knew his word could not be trusted.

Obi-Wan was silent for an agonizingly long minute. “No.”

The word took a moment to process but for a brief moment there was a release of the weight that sat on his heart, the guilt that ate away at him, that was until he saw the look on Obi-Wan’s face.

“Not physically, at least.” Obi-Wan continued and turned a look on him that once would have had him feeling like a scolded young boy. “The force hold you had on her had no medical repercussions to her or the babies, miraculously.” Obi-Wan's tone was sharp and bitter and while he didn't blame him for it, it still irritated him to no end. “Your actions, your turn to the dark side, were what broke her heart and it was all too much for her I suppose. Her death was a tragic loss for Luke and Leia but I think it fortunate she never knew what became of you because I believe it would have destroyed her.”

The weight once again fell heavy on his chest as he thought about what life would have been like for Padmé and the children had she survived. They’d be with her but who knows where they would have ended up. He believed the world he was creating with Palpatine was right, at the time, but Padmé wouldn’t have believed so. Padmé would have been on the rebels side, forced into hiding, or forced into fighting, either option would have been miserable for her and their children. Obi-Wan was right, he saw it in her eyes that day on Mustafar, he had frightened her, broke her heart and Darth Vader had effectively ruined any chance he had with his wife and children.

“Without a mother or father Luke and Leia were separated for their own protection.”

The words were like a lightsaber through the heart and pulled him out of his spiraling thoughts and the anger flared to life inside of him. “They had a father and you had no right to keep them from me.”

Obi-Wan turned to him in exasperation. “I believed you to be dead, Anakin.”

For the briefest of moments his memory faded back to that memory he had repressed for so long. He couldn't think about the pain he felt as his body caught flame, for it had consumed his every thought but even in the blinding pain, he saw Obi-Wan watching him with derision and then he was gone. Obi-Wan had left him to die.

“Even if I hadn't,” Obi-Wan continued, pulling him out of his spiraling dark memories. “I would not allow innocent children to fall into the hands of the Empire. Especially children that were as close as family to me.”

“Family." He echoed darkly, bitterly. “The Jedi don't believe in family.”

Obi-Wan pressed his brow together. “The jedi order discouraged attachment this is true but if you believed I did not consider you or Padmé my family, perhaps I did fail you after all.”

He fell silent, momentarily stunned by his words. He didn't want to believe them. He didn't believe Obi-Wan cared back then, all evidence had pointed to it. However, it seemed, all evidence had pointed to the contrary.

A flicker of pain crossed over Obi-Wan's face and he sighed before he spoke again. “The Organa’s could not have children of their own and Bail was present at their birth so Leia was placed with them. We believed it in their best interest to separate them, protect them from the Empire, so I brought Luke to Tatooine, to the only family he had left. Also childless, your step brother and his wife were happy to take Luke.”

“How much did they know?” He asked quietly. “About what happened?”

“Bail knew what had happened to you, we discussed at length how best to protect the children. Owen was told you had died along with the rest of the Jedi but I believe he suspected the truth. Luke was well cared for, Anakin. They both were.”

“I know that.” He could hear the love in Leia's voice for her parents and Luke spoke fondly of his Aunt and Uncle, however much he disliked living on Tatooine.

Obi-Wan smiled fondly. “I watched and cared for Luke all throughout his childhood. At a distance of course but I was always there. He is a fine boy, Anakin.”

“Is this where you tell me he is everything I could have been?” His tone was bitter and he didn't try to hide it. He was proud, extremely so, but Luke's successes were a constant reminder of his failures.

“If you are asking the question you already know the answer.”

He was grateful at least that Obi-Wan spared the words from coming out of his own mouth.

“When Luke discovered the power of the force he was only nineteen. You were already a Jedi Knight by then. By his age you were already a highly trained and powerful Jedi. Luke is undertrained and clearly powerful. He is everything you were, Anakin, he just chose another path.”

He was not expecting that from his former master. He was always under the impression Obi-Wan couldn't see the power he held, that he was constantly trying to suppress his abilities, but realized now perhaps he was only trying to keep his ego in check.

The conflicting thoughts and emotions were starting to give him a headache so he returned his focus back to Luke.

“You gave him my lightsaber, you were with him on the Death Star and he speaks of you fondly. You say you kept your distance but that clearly isn't the truth.”

“We had only met officially a few days prior to our encounter on the Death Star when Artoo sought me out with a message from Leia asking for my help. Luke was with him…” He scoffed and shook his head. “I had to rescue your son from trouble. What possessed him to follow a droid by himself into the dangerous lands of Tatooine is beyond me. There's no mistaking your boy, Anakin.”

He ignored that comment.

“The plans for the Death Star...Artoo had them?” He knew Leia had them but never knew how she got them, or who she had given them to.

For a moment he felt a small twinge of betrayal. A droid that he had once considered a friend had conspired against him - but Artoo remained safe in the hands of Luke and Leia, the droid remained loyal to them, and in so, loyal to him.

Obi-Wan’s lips twitched up. “Yes. Your children are both far too much like you, Anakin. Luke is reckless, Leia is ruthless but they're also very clever. It seems the universe has its own sense of humor, bringing them together to bring Vader's destruction.”

His children were at the heart of the rebel alliance. Luke, the last of the Jedi, Leia, their princess, leading the Republic just as Padmé had.

They would not surrender to darkness like he had. It would have always ended this way, the bright lights that they are. Palpatine would never have let them live and he never would have let them die at his hands. Never let Padmé’s children suffer her same fate.

He embraced the darkness in his desperate attempts to save Padmé and it destroyed her. Destroyed Anakin. Her children, their children, brought him back to the light, and saved him, as much as he could be saved. His life was saved, his heart turned back towards the light but there things that were broken that could never be mended. Not with any medication or suit, or any amount of love from Luke.

His tense relationship with Leia was proof enough of that. She was too strong willed and he knew he may never receive her forgiveness, not that he deserved it.

He hated the Jedi, but he also hated the Sith, he hated Palpatine, he hated himself for giving in and for what he had done to his family.

“They are much more like Padmé.” He thought of his wife and her kind heart, her forgiveness and compassion, her goodness.

“They are as much you as they are her. Had you been able to raise them…”

Obi-Wan trailed off, leaving the words hanging in the air and the anger flickered back to life inside him.

“We wouldn't have would we? The Jedi would forbid it.”

Obi-Wan sighed. “Yes, they would have, and you probably would have been asked to leave the Order but honestly, Anakin if you believed any of us blind to your relationship with Padmé you must have been dense.”

His chest constricted, startled at this new revelation. “You couldn't have known.”

“We all knew, we just chose to turn a blind eye. You were not as subtle as you believe.”

It wasn't easy, trying to hide their relationship but he thought they had been careful.

“When Padmé became pregnant, well...none of us dare ask her who the father was but I certainly had my suspicions. I had no confirmation that the children were yours until Padmé told me but it came as no surprise. How heartless you must have believed us all to be.”

Obi-Wans voice was pitying, condescending and positively infuriating.

“If the Jedi offered me any reassurance that my family would be safe and accepted I wouldn't have felt the need to turn to the Dark Side.”

“All you had to do was ask!” Obi-Wan said in exasperation. “You would have had our protection.”

Lies - the Jedi wouldn’t have cared, he knew it and so did Obi-Wan. His face scrunched up and he shook his head, his eyes sad but genuine. “ At the very least you would have had mine.”

He said it with such conviction and regret, sadness, that he almost believed him.

“It was not as simple as that.”

Still, he remembered Padmé begging him to ask Obi-Wan for helped and he insisting that they didn't need it. If only he had listened...he should have listened...

Obi-Wan's face flickered in frustration. “Nothing ever is with you.”

He felt his own frustration rising. “What could you have done? To save her?”

“I am no doctor but I did everything I could to save her. I even brought her to you because she believed she could save you! Forces sake, Anakin, I was not only your master, I was your friend!”

“She was going to die, I knew, I saw it…” The nightmare that never stopped, even after the news of the death. Over and over, her cries of pain and anguish, screaming his name, tormenting him.

“You saw the future, Anakin, but you saw the future you yourself created. As I told you there was nothing medically wrong with Padmé at the time of her death, there was nothing that would have killed her if you had just stayed with her.”

“It is my fault.”

Obi-Wan gave a resigned sigh. “Well you certainly didn't help.”

He was more clear minded than he had been in his entire life. He replayed those moments in Mustafar, hearing every word Padmé was telling him, begging him to turn away and how power hungry he had sounded. How power hungry he had been, how angry he had been. That young Sith Lord was the most powerful being in the galaxy and he knew it. He wouldn't listen to Padmé, because she wouldn't listen to him and then Obi-Wan showed up and…

His rage had blinded him, blinded him so red he hardly saw the difference between him and Padmé. He had reached out and…

Tears burned painfully at his eyes.

“I killed her.” It was something he’d known as truth for over twenty years but without the details he always felt something was missing. Now he knew for certain, Padmé was dead and it was his fault.

Obi-Wan was silent for a long time, clearly mulling over his words carefully before he spoke.

“Darth Vader had taken control of you.” He said quietly. “The Anakin I knew never could have hurt her.”

He knew Obi-Wan was trying to reassure him, trying to separate his padawan and friend from the actions of the Sith Lord but he knew the truth. “I am both, Obi-Wan. I chose to become Vader, so a part of Vader was always...me. I am him. I hurt her, I…”

It was a heartbreaking revelation but an important one all the same.

He couldn't say anything for a while and Obi-Wan’s silence spoke for itself. His former master couldn't look at him, instead keeping his eyes down, his brow pressed together.

“I am lost Obi-Wan.” He admitted finally, breaking past his own barriers of rage and resentment and reaching out to the only man who had truly cared for him.

Obi-Wan looked up, his lips pressed together firmly. He sighed and turned to face him. “They called you Chosen One,” Obi-Wan said as if he needed a reminder, “ the one who was meant to bring balance to the Force. The Jedi’s mistake was to believe you belonged only to the light side of the force. Palpatine’s was to believe you belonged only y to the dark. You were never meant to bring balance, anakin, you are the balance. You've known both light and dark, have become a master of both. It is up to you now to decide where to go from here, how to apply all you have learned from both sides. My life is done and I failed you as your Master, and as your friend, and I'm sorry that I could, and would, not see your suffering. but you have been given a second chance. Don't waste it, Anakin. I know you can still be great.”

“How?” He had lost everything and felt stuck in a pit of despair. “Obi-Wan...how do I go on with all in have done?”

He once pledged himself to be Darth Sidious’ student but had always believed himself to be better, more powerful than him. More often than not he felt the same about Obi-Wan.

For the first time since he was a young boy, just starting training under Obi-Wan he felt himself craving his Master’s teaching. He had hit the lowest point in his life and he knew he needed something to change. Obi-Wan was still a representation of the Jedi and there were certain points they'd never agree on but he was the only family he had ever known, besides his mother and Padmé.

Obi-Wan was right, damn him, he did care. He didnt.show it and therefore it didn’t do a lick of good for him in his entire life but he hoped it would do now.

“You apologize, you learn from your past mistakes and then you move forward. Your children are willing to forgive you. Luke certainly has and Leia, she is stubborn but she's hurt and in time she will come around. Most important of all you must make peace with yourself.”

Of all Obi-Wan had mentioned, that seemed the most impossible of all. The guilt and self hatred ran deep and it would take a lot to make him feel otherwise. He didn't think he had ever been at peace with himself.

There were those rare moments of peace when he was alone with Padmé and all that mattered was the way she felt in his arms.

Even then, she was only a mere distraction from his tormenting thoughts and dreams.

“Obi-Wan…”

His former master shook his head. “I am no longer your Master, Anakin, I've said all I can say. This is something you must discover for yourself.”

Help me. He wanted to cry out but he knew Obi-Wan was right, it was something he had to find within himself.

Obi-Wan slowly lifted his arm and outstretched his hand toward him. He couldn't have touched him if he wanted to but he felt a gentle tingle of the Force. He smiled, slow and sad and then dropped his hand and looked over his shoulder. “It is time for me to go, Anakin.” He said quietly. “I just needed to see you again, to speak to you, to know perhaps my brother was not lost after all.”

Obi-Wan's gaze lingered on him for another long moment and for once he could see the love in his eyes.

He was right, a lot had changed for both of them since he left the Jedi. His fall had not only broken himself but also Obi-Wan. Those walls around his heart the Jedi had forced up were gone.

Obi-Wan then slowly turned around and he felt that sting of dread and he knew he was about to lose another person he cared for.

“Obi-Wan.” He called out and his former master froze. “Thank you.”

Obi-Wan looked over his shoulder, the surprise evident on his face.

“I blamed you for many things, some of which were not your fault, but I realize my own faults and everything I've done. You took care of my family when I could not. You watched over Luke and you led him back to me.”

“Padmé believed in you, with her dying breath she said so.” His words were a bittersweet tug at his heart. “I knew if there was anyone who could bring you back it would be her son and I had to try.”

Obi-Wan looked down, his face relaxed in a smile and then turned his head towards him. “Goodbye Anakin. Take care of yourself.”

Then without another word he faded from view. He felt the loss of his presence, the room felt extremely empty and quiet, and he knew he would never see his old friend again.

“Goodbye Obi-Wan.” The feeling was unspoken but he felt it in his heart, a bond between them that went beyond former Master and apprentice, a kinship that could never be severed, not by betrayal or even death.

Brothers.

Obi-Wan had given him forgiveness and acceptance he didn't know he needed, didn't think he wanted but it had given him something he had not felt since he awoke: a sliver of hope.

#star wars #fanfiction #anakin skywalker #obi-wan kenobi

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earthpodd · 7 years ago

Text

Take a Moment to Ask Yourself If This Is How We Fall Apart

When you’ve been through so many things with someone it’s normal to worry that you might be losing them, especially when you feel them distancing themselves from you. It makes you start to think. “Is he starting to hate me?” Zhen Wu asked Yu Hao, but the question was purely rhetorical, he didn’t think his step-brother’s best friend would be able to give him a sufficient answer. Wu had his back resting against the wall and his gaze cast downward staring at the bottle he had in hand, he was delving in thoughts, trying to make sense of Wen’s recent attitude. His mind went way back, to when they were younger, just friends, not brothers.

“Did you wait long?” Chang Li Qin* asked, one of his arms snaking around Wen’s shoulders. He had just left the volleyball training and his body was all sweat, which made the other male flinch away from him, escaping the embrace. “Why didn’t you shower?” He asked with one eyebrow raised as he stared curiously at Qin. The response came with a small smile and a shake of his head. “I didn’t want to keep you waiting.” Li Qin said, noticing how Zhen Wen averted his gaze and frowned at the response given. Chang Li Qin noticed he did that a lot. “Who?” The sound of Xia Yu Hao’s voice brought Wu back from the land of memories. “My brother.” He responded, around whipping his head again. “What?” He should have expected something like that, but at least his friend was giving him his undivided attention, it was something. “I don’t understand why he thinks I am annoying.” He still treated Wen the same way as always; he was just a little more protective. “He used to be so close to me, but he joins the volleyball team he hates. I think it’s really weird.” A sigh escaped Zhen Wu’s lips. “What’s weird about it?” Of course Yu Hao couldn’t understand, he was not there, after all. “Why don’t you ask him?” Wang Zhen Wu couldn’t think of a worse suggestion. “But I’m not prepared to ask him,” He admitted, even though he kept the same expression, there was underlying worry in his eyes. “What if… I don’t know…” He really hates me were the words left unsaid. “He is your younger brother! Just ask him!” He could have chuckled at that. Xia Yu Hao was really bold and direct, but Zhen Wu didn’t think it was the best way to approach the subject; it would only make his step-brother freak out. After that Wu joined the volleyball team as well. He was no longer as passionate as he used to be about the sport, but he still liked it enough, and the past training he had, secured him a spot in the team. His main reason for that, was so he could still take care of Zhen Wen, and be around him. He didn’t really like the times when they were apart. Plus, being in the team meant Wen would have less chances of leaving without him, at least until he figured out why the boy who had always be so close with him now found him annoying. Wang Zhen Wu would start paying attention to his actions; if anything they could give him a clue. -x- The first few days in the team didn’t exactly go as Zhen Wu had planned. Wen would only talk to him when it was extremely necessary, and the rest of the time he would avoid Wu like the plague, and it was not for lack of effort on the older brother’s part. He really wanted to find out what was wrong with his brother, even if it didn’t really make sense to him why he was so desperate for answers. He couldn’t comprehend some of the emotions he went through whenever a situation related to Wang Zhen Wen happened. Whether it was a conversation, or something that had nothing to do with Zhen Wu directly. He felt like he had to be there at every moment, and know everything. It was his duty as step-brother, or so he thought. It was too blurry to know certainly. Now as he stood in the locker room, listening to Zi Xuan deliver the news about their intensive practice during the holidays, he couldn’t help but think that maybe this could be an opportunity for him to try again. He would give Wen a few days’ worth of peace. The last few attempts were complete failures, if he could remember correctly. In the very day after he had the conversation with Yu Hao and joined the team, Wu tried to corner his step-brother and start a conversation. “Do you still feel annoyed by me?” There was uncertainty in his voice, and a vulnerability that sounded unusual even to his own ears. Maybe Zhen Wen was not the only one who had changed. “Yes!” The response was delivered in a curt and resolute way, leaving no room for argument or discussion. He didn’t want to talk. Since there was nothing else he could do, Zhen Wu left the other alone and went on to the practice. The next time he tried was as unsuccessful as the first one, albeit a little differently. They had been at home during this one. Wang Zhen Wen was sitting on his bed, legs crossed in front of him and a book in hand, studying, when Zhen Wu walked into the bedroom. he had a towel wrapped around his waist and another one resting on his shoulders. His chest was shining with water droplets that were yet to dry. “What are you doing?” He tried asking, grabbing the towel that was previously on his shoulder and using it to dry his hair. He knew the answer to that question already, but he wanted to ease his way into a deeper conversation by breaking the ice first and asking trivial things. Wen raised his gaze from the book to look at him, but he never responded the question. He seemed distracted. “Zhen Wen?” Wu’s features scrunched up in a small frown of confusion, but again, instead of getting a response, he earned himself a huff and a sigh. “I’m studying, don’t bother me.” He didn’t know if it was the light in their room, but he thought he could see some colour in Wang Zhen Wen’s cheeks. He didn’t think much of it and proceeded to get dressed, though he could feel eyes burning his skin with the intensity of their stare. -x- When Li Qi approached him, Wang Zhen Wu knew that he should have expected something like this to happen. Zhen Wen was good looking, more than Wu himself, so of course girls would try to use his older brother to get to him, which was exactly what Li Qi had been doing to him. She had been asking questions about Wen, about their lives, their relationship as step-brothers and many other things for the past few days. She was trying to win Wang Zhen Wen’s heart through him. If only she knew that their relationship was not the best at the moment. Despite all that, the thing that bothered him the most, though he never showed it to the girl, was that her feelings for Zhen Wen made him feel something weird. It was not jealousy, because he had no interest in Li Qi, but something inside of him didn’t like the idea of his step-brother being with her, so he never told him anything. And whenever he felt guilty about that, he could always use the fact that they were not exactly on good terms to ease his conscience, but it was only an excuse. During the past few days Zhen Wu also noticed that Wen had been staying up late a lot. He was always still awake when Wu went to bed and already up when he awoke. It made him worry, and also still feel a bit guilty. Was it possible that this could be his fault? He knew they were undergoing exams week and that the other boy had many responsibilities with the volleyball team, but Wang Zhen Wu had never seen him push himself this hard before. He decided that the only way to be sure was to ask Wang Zhen Wen directly, even if the very thought of that filled him with dread and fear. He didn’t know how he would react if it was his fault somehow. All he knew was that he would to his best to make it up for Zhen Wen, no matter what. The next day right after he was done with classes, Wu went to talk with Xiao Xiao to ask her to relieve Wen from his duties for the day. “Senior Xiao!” He greeted respectfully when he met her at her locker. “Wang Zhen Wu!” She offered him a smile, but he didn’t exactly reciprocate the gesture. He needed to seem worried for this to seem believable. “Something happened at home. Could Wang Zhen Wen and I be absent today? We need to head out first.” Although she seemed concerned, the girl made no question and instead just placed her hand on Zhen Wu’s shoulder, giving the muscle a squeeze as she nodded in agreement. “Thank you!” He headed out after that to go meet with his step-brother. Wu found Zhen Wen in the restroom, complaining about the amount of work Xiao Xiao had given him in a soft voice. Wang Zhen Wu crossed the door right as Wen was leaving, making the younger one of the two bump into him. “Sorry!” He didn’t even look up at Zhen Wu when he said that, so Wu didn’t move out of the way until the other boy cast his gaze upward. “Oh… it’s you.” He had prepared his speech, so he didn’t let the unwelcoming words bother him. “There is something I would like to talk you about.” He adjusted the stripe of his bag when he said that. “Let’s head back together today.” Wang Zhen Wen refused to look at him, but this time he didn’t budge, he stood his ground. “I have an appointment with Xiao Xiao.” Thankfully that excuse wouldn’t work, seeing as Wu had already talked to their senior beforehand. “I told her that something happened at home, so we had to head out first.” Wang Zhen Wu didn’t leave room for argument, and he made sure Wen knew that by giving a small tug on the stripe of his step-brother’s bag before taking it for him to carry himself along with his own. He knew Zhen Wen wanted to argue, he even opened his mouth to say something, but Wu turned on his heels and started walking ahead. He knew the younger one would follow him. When they were finally arriving at the bus stop, Zhen Wu turned his head, only to see that his former best friend was yawning. Wang Zhen Wen really seemed tired. He then waited until both of them were seated on the bench of the stop before bringing up the subject. He sighed deeply, and then, without looking at Wen, started his speech. “Recently, you have been avoiding me. Did I do something wrong somewhere?” There was a fair amount of fear and even some hurt in his expression. “Just let me know directly…” He took a short pause. “Don’t internalize them.” He was a believer that keeping things bottled up only made everything worse. Wu tapped his foot anxiously as he waited for Zhen Wen’s reply. He was yet to look at him, though, but when he noticed that the other boy was silent for too long, he craned his neck to look at him. He found Wen sleeping, and almost falling from the bench. Several options ran through his mind, he could try to wake Wang Zhen Wen up; he could let him sleep like that until the bus arrived. In the end he opted to wrap the younger man up in his arms as he was falling and let Wen’s head rest against his chest while he secured him. Zhen Wu didn’t know why he felt the need to do that, but he deposited a small kiss to the top of his step-brother’s head. It weirdly made warmth spread across his chest. In an attempt to get Zhen Wen to readjust his position more comfortably, he softly blew into the other’s ear twice. Then, when he was satisfied, Wu simply held him with a smile on his face. This gesture gave him a sense of belonging. It had been so long since he had last been able to be affectionate towards Wen. He could still remember the last time. They were playing video games in the Chang Li household. “Li Qin, help me defeat this boss.” Li Qin had just been waiting for that request. He had already beaten this game a couple times and from what he had seen on the screen, Zhen Wen was going about the strategy wrongly. The younger of the two was sitting on the floor and resting against the end of the bed with the controller in hands. Since Chang Li Qin was on the bed, he simply moved to where his best friend was and put his hands on Wen’s. “You have to attack it from the back.” He explained, finally resting his chin atop Wang Zhen Wen’s head. His fingers moved skilfully, pressing the buttons on the controller on time. He felt peaceful like that. They spent a couple more hours just playing like that. There were no worries and no dramas, just the two of them having a good time. Eventually Qin’s mother** told them to sleep. Whenever they slept at each other’s house, the arrangement was like this. One would have the bed, the other would have a mattress on the floor, but in the end they always ended up sharing the bed. This time was no exception. As soon as they were done with their nightly hygiene routine they laid in bed. Li Qin turned off the lights and then turned to lie on his side. Zhen Wen always slept in his arms. -x- The next few days, until the exams, passed like a blur. Most of Wang Zhen Wu’s time was spent between class, practicing with the volleyball team and studying. He didn’t have another opportunity to confront Wen about the cold shoulder treatment, but he couldn’t slack off with his studies. The whole team was counting on him and all of its members individually. He had to do well. The only free time he had he was cornered by Li Qi. This time the girl wanted him to give his step-brother a gift from her and tell him to call her. Despite the fact that he smiled and agreed to do exactly what was asked of him, the request threw him off. He didn’t want to give her gift to Wen, not more than he didn’t want Zhen Wen to call her or to date her, but he also didn’t want to make sense of these feelings he didn’t understand. On the day of the exam things went smoothly, even under coach’s watchful gaze, and Zhen Wu actually had fun watching Wen and Yu Hao come up with their little victory dance to show the volleyball team once they got the results. Funnier than that was watching them perform it when the three of them announced that they had passed all of the subjects. He would have to admit that there was some second-hand embarrassment when he saw that none of the seniors had understood the purpose of the dorkish act, at least until Zi Xuan started chuckling and Cheng En made the others join the bandwagon. Probably, so they wouldn’t feel bad about the little dance. They were told to rest that day and meet back in front of the school on Saturday, which was a good thing, because Wu definitely needed the rest. He didn’t try to get Zhen Wen to talk to him that day. Everything was dark. Wang Zhen Wu couldn’t see a single thing around him, and all he could hear were the sound of steps, to his side, to his back, everywhere. His body kept turning, arms extended, he was trying to touch anyone, anything, just to get rid of this sense of helplessness. And then he heard Zhen Wen’s voice, it was softer and sounded much younger, but what triggered him was how aggravated it was. His step-brother was screaming and asking for help. He kept yelling Wu’s name, but Wu couldn’t see him, nor could he respond. Everytime he tried to talk, no sound would come off. He was mute, and it was making him increasingly desperate. Suddenly there was light above him, but he could only see himself and a part of the floor. It was completely white. Something caught his attention from the corner of his gaze. Another spot of light had appeared, and under it was Li Qi. The girl seemed to be looking directly at him; her beautiful features were contorted in an evil twisted smirk, almost as if she was mocking him about something. Maybe it was the wet marks on his cheeks from when he heard Wen’s screams. He hadn’t even noticed he had cried. The girl’s movements caught his attention again. Wang Zhen Wen was there beside her now. He wore the same expression from the day they found him after being kidnapped, disturbed and scared. Li Qi had a hand tightly wrapped around one of his arms, and it seemed like she was laughing now, as she started tugging on his step-brother’s arm. She was taking Wen away from him. Wu tried to run, to tell her to stop, but couldn’t move, couldn’t talk, all he could do was stay there and watch as the girl took Zhen Wen away and the duo started to fade into the darkness. Wu woke up startled. There was sweat covering his forehead, and his heart was beating frantically against its bony cage within his chest. It was almost like the organ was trying to get out of his body. His first instinct, despite the apparent fear, was to get up from his bed and check on Wang Zhen Wen. The other boy was sleeping soundly, and it brought relief to Zhen Wu, enough so that he could start nursing his heartbeat back to normal through deep breaths. That had definitely been the worst nightmare he had ever had in his life, and perhaps that was what gave him courage to walk up to Wen’s bed. He didn’t really know what he was doing there, but he fixed the blanket that was almost falling from the bed, lowered his upper body to place a kiss on Zhen Wen’s forehead and then went back to bed. It was still dark, and he needed to sleep a little more. -x- On Saturday, at six in the morning sharp every member of the volleyball team was standing in front of the school with their bags, waiting for Zi Xuan to take them to the place where they would be practicing during the holidays, though He Cheng En seemed to be missing. Despite the early hour, all of them seemed to be in a good mood. They were chatting, making complaints and even occasionally cracking jokes. Even Wu himself didn’t feel so tired waking up at such ungodly hour. The Captain eventually joined them, though it was just when they were already arriving at the rented building. To their surprise, the coach was waiting for them at the door, and she didn’t look the least bit happy. The way she scolded them made Zhen Wu swallow dry and hurry inside the place like she had ordered. She could be very scary when she was angry. Not that she ever seemed to be not-angry, but some days it was worse. The practice was even more intense than ever. Sweat was covering the entirety of Wang Zhen Wu’s body and he felt like he could barely keep up with himself anymore. He honestly didn’t think it would be this bad when they first announced they would be using the holidays to sharpen their skills. Ho Zhong Zhong was really merciless. That first day was literally the worst, but he enjoyed himself anyway. That is, until they were introduced to their sleeping quarters. The place was all dirty and the ‘mattress’ was almost as bad as the floor itself, but at least it was a little softer, so it would have to do. As they were picking the puzzle pieces to use as mattress, Wang Zhen Wu saw his step-brother rushing to set his pieces beside Yu Hao’s. A pang of disappointment hit him, but he tried to conceal it. He should probably start resigning to his fate of being hated by Zhen Wen. But before that he would do one more attempt. “Zhen Wen…” The name rolled off his tongue weakly this time, and it was not like it made much difference anyway, his step-brother just ignored it and kept on working on his mattress together with Yu Hao, so Wu just left him be and went to set his own mattress beside the other guys from the team. He would give Wen the distance he wanted, but he couldn’t help stealing a few glances his way. Everyone left to take a shower eventually, but since he hadn’t finished settling his stuff, Wu stayed behind. The only other person in the sleeping quarters was his step-brother, but he didn’t dare try to talk to him again. He would stay in his lane. That resolve lasted for a few seconds at most, because when he saw that Zhen Wen felt pain on his leg when he tried to stand up, he rushed to the younger boy’s side as fast as he could. “Are you alright?” His voice was laced with concern, and if given opportunity he would have checked Wen’s leg right then and there, but Wang Zhen Wen didn’t give him a chance for that. “I’m okay," was the response given to his question, and along with that, his step-brother flinched away from his touch and his care. Wu approached him again. “If you’re not angry, why would you say I was annoying?” The current state of their relationship was still bothering him, more so the doubt than anything else. “I randomly said it.” Wang Zhen Wu really didn’t buy that. No one said stuff like that randomly. He didn’t know how Wen could look him in the eyes and say that. “I don’t think you’re annoying.” Was he just saying that, because he thought that was what he wanted to hear? Wu didn’t know. “I wanna… train myself to be independent.” That one really confused Zhen Wu. “Independent?” He tried to pour all of his confusion into that question. “Don’t you have a girlfriend?” That question only made him feel even more confused. “It takes time to date, so… I wanna be more independent or else you’re gonna get dumped because of me.” Wang Zhen Wen tried to escape after that, but Wu grabbed his arm. Could it be that Wen was talking about Li Qi? He could have come clean right there, explained that he didn’t have a girlfriend, that this was a misunderstanding, but somehow he couldn’t. It would entail telling Zhen Wen that Li Qi was actually interested in him. The rest of the conversation shed some light into his confusion. Maybe Wen was as scared of losing him as Wu was. He had another opportunity to come clean, but Wang Zhen Wu preferred to use it to reassure Zhen Wen that he wouldn’t lose him. “You are my younger brother. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.” He tried to give Wang Zhen Wen a hug, but instead was met with the pain of rejection. “I gotta take a shower now.” And this time he let him go, only accompanying his step-brother with his stare. Once Wen was out of the room, Zhen Wu proceeded to rearrange the mattresses, pushing Yu Hao’s to the side, so he could insert his own beside Wang Zhen Wen’s, and between the two of them. He had to make it clear for Zhen Wen that even if one day he found a girlfriend, that he would still be the most important person to him. Wang Zhen Wen would always come first, no matter what. That night Wen slept in his arms, spooning like they haven’t done in a long time. The following day when Wang Zhen Wu woke up, Zhen Wen was no longer sleeping beside him; also most of the team had already gotten up and were going about their morning routine. He tried not to think much of it. He should focus on the fact that his step-brother was not really starting to hate him, but rather worried that he would be replaced by some girl. It was really relieving to know that he was not hated by Wen, so he started his day with a smile. -x- A few days passed since the start of holidays, it was now already nearing the end, and although things were still a little awkward between him and Wang Zhen Wen, at least now Wu was not getting the cold shoulder, so he was thankful that things had gotten better, even if just barely. It was while they were resting in a break from the training that he felt the first spark of real jealousy, even if he couldn’t wrap his head around it. He was sitting on the floor beside Yu Hao, team jersey on his shoulder and volleyball in hands. He looked to the side in time to see Zi Xuan praising Zhen Wen and handing him a water bottle. Wang Zhen Wu didn’t know why, but he quickly got up and approached the pair. His step-brother just spared him a quick glance and then went back to talking to the team’s manager. He didn’t say anything at that moment, because the coach came back to make the announcement about their match against Ren He high school, so he went back to his spot beside Yu Hao and sat down to listen to her. He paid close attention to what was being said and then agreed when requested to be the Libero during the match. He missed Wang Zhen Wen’s proud expression. They went to practice after that, more intensively than before. Everyone was suddenly nervous all over, especially when they found out Zi Xuan had forgotten to teach Yu Hao the rules. That evening after practice, Li Qi started texting him. She wanted to know if Wu had delivered her gift to Zhen Wen, which forced him to come up with an excuse as to why he was yet to do that. Truth is, he had many opportunities to do that, but he just didn’t want to. For some reason, he just kept pushing it back. Maybe one day she would forget? He had been so occupied trying to think of how he should respond to her that he didn’t notice Wang Zhen Wen approaching him. “What are you looking at?” His step-brother’s voice startled Zhen Wu and made him jump up into a sitting position, hiding the phone beside him. “What? Don’t look at it.” He didn’t know how much the younger of the two had managed to see before making his presence known, so he was a bit wary. He didn’t even look when Wen sat across from him to the side. “I thought you were watching videos.” His startled state didn’t let him worry that his reaction could possibly ruin the progress he had managed to make with Zhen Wen. He scratched his ear nervously and then softened his tone; he didn’t want to push the other boy away. “I’m not accusing you” His step-brother took that opportunity to lie on his side in front of him, head propped onto one of his palms as he started up at Wu. “So, your girlfriend’s name is Li Qi?” Wang Zhen Wen wore a smiley face, and somehow that made Zhen Wu’s expression all the more sour. Just how much had he seen? He tried to ignore the question, but he knew his reaction was off and that it was noticeable. “Since you are so nervous, it must be because you really like her a lot.” Wu felt tempted to admit that he didn’t like her at all, that he had no interest in her and never would have, but he kept quiet. He had averted his gaze, not looking at anywhere in particular, but the light slap to his shoulder made him meet Wen’s expectant gaze. “Don’t worry. We’re good brothers, I am not gonna fight with you.” Wang Zhen Wu resisted the urge to sigh. He was feeling too many things at the same time, and on top of it all was frustration. This whole situation was growing like a snowball. That is it! He was gonna come clean and put an end to this. “That’s not what I mean…” Narrowing his eyes, he allowed his teeth to sink into the skin of his lower lip. He couldn’t bring himself to tell Zhen Wen that Li Qi liked him. “I understand you.” The little punch to his chest caught Wu off guard. He was sure his step-brother could feel the way his heart was beating frantically against his chest. Thankfully the conversation came to an end after that. Wen went to get ready to sleep and Zhen Wu was left with his thoughts and a troubled expression on his face. Wang Zhen Wu laid down after that, sighing to himself as he did so. The other members of the team kept talking and discussing tactics for a little longer, but eventually He Cheng En told them all to get an early night and turned off the lights. Wu closed his eyes instantly, but felt he couldn’t sleep right away. The conversation he had with his step-brother was still bothering him. He had plenty of opportunities to clear it all out, so why couldn’t he? Why? Why? At first he only heard Zhen Wen tossing and turning on the mattress. It was clear that both of them were having a hard time falling asleep, albeit he thought it to be for completely different reasons. “Big brother…” Wu didn’t respond, he didn’t even move, he didn’t want to start discussing such matters again. “Zhen Wu…” It pained him to ignore his step-brother like this, but he felt too emotionally drained to have another round at the Li Qi subject. He just wanted to sleep and focus on the match they were having the day after. No complications, no trying to understanding what he was feeling, no Li Qi. Wang Zhen Wu thought Wen had given up on talking to him and went to sleep when suddenly he felt a blanket being thrown over him. It was Wang Zhen Wen’s blanket. “Wang Zhen Wu, I like you.” The words caught him off guard, and he had to force himself to do everything in his power not to display any reaction. He could have been misunderstanding it. “Not the kind of like towards an older brother… It is the kind of like that stemmed from the jealousy of your girlfriend…” Wu’s breath caught in his throat, but he didn’t dare let it out, he was trying to put the pieces together. “…but you will never know, because I will not say it again.” Zhen Wu could tell Wen was crying by how strained his voice sounded and he took little pauses between each sentence. “Sorry, I am unable to accept you as my older brother… really sorry.” Wu didn’t know what to think, he wanted to turn around and hold Wang Zhen Wen, but he felt frozen, still trying to make sense of it all. “Only now am I able to return your favourite volleyball back to you…” Zhen Wu’s eyes opened both literally and figuratively as he laid there, biting his lips to the point he could feel the metallic taste of blood and listening to his step-brother cry. Wu himself felt like crying. This was not how things were supposed to go. He wanted them to go back to how close they were before their parents had gotten married, but not like this… Why was this happening now? They were brothers; they couldn’t be anything else… His eyes closed again, but his mind was spiralling out of control with thoughts. There were so many things to think about, but he just couldn’t, not right now, not so soon. He was still frozen, and in a state of shock. He was hurting, more for Wen than for himself, but how could he comfort the younger boy when he was a mess himself? Wu didn’t get any sleep that night. Not that he expected to after the news he had received. He was sure his body would protest at some point. He just hoped it wouldn’t compromise his performance during the match. He couldn’t let the team down, because it was the only thing giving him any sense of control. Nothing else made sense anymore. It was all a blur of pain, worry and confusion, yet he couldn’t help but think how much worse than him Wang Zhen Wen was feeling and that only increased his own pain. The scene kept replaying in his mind the whole time, and he caught himself wanting to confront his step-brother about it several times, but he never did, he couldn’t. What would he say if he didn’t even know what to do, what to think. Thankfully he had the match to serve as distraction. -x- The loss didn’t bother Wang Zhen Wu as much as it did to the others. He had more concerning things at mind to worry about, like how he was finally going to confront Zhen Wen about his confession while they walked to the school. Ever since they left the building after the game, Wu had been walking on ahead. It was clear that he was stressed and he didn’t even attempt to conceal it. Eventually he stopped in his tracks and turned back to face Wen. He could feel his own confusion reflected in the way his step-brother took a step back and stared at him. “You… why are you heading backward?” Zhen Wu ignored the other boy’s startled look and stepped closer. “Yesterday I…” He was interrupted by Li Qi. The girl literally came out of nowhere. “Zhen Wu, how come you never answered me?” Flashbacks from the night before hit him again, and he suddenly felt much stiffer. “Why are you here?” Perhaps he had been a bit harsh, but Wu didn’t want the girl anywhere near his step-brother, especially right now. “I’m waiting for you guys right here.” More than anything, now he regretted not having responded to her text. If he had responded, she wouldn’t be there right now. “Are you Li Qi?” Wang Zhen Wu sighed internally. He hated the huge grin on the girl’s face, but he was more worried about how Wen would react when the truth came out. “You know me? Must be your older brother mentioned it to you, right?” Wu turned his back on them, he didn’t want to hear this conversation, nor did he want to see his step-brother’s angry expression when Li Qi explained things. “Well… yeah, in a way.” Not looking at them proved not to be a good idea after all. “Then, did you receive my gift?” His head whipped quickly to look at Wen, he could see confusion there. That seemed to be a common expression for them nowadays. “Gift?” Zhen Wu averted his gaze again, but even then he could feel Wang Zhen Wen’s questioning stare burning his skin. He took a couple steps away from them, though his heart felt heavy despite him not knowing why. “I’ll wait for your answer… See you tomorrow at school.” This… anticipation, it was hurting. “Thank you!” Wu couldn’t even respond the girl, he knew what was to come, and he could feel himself frowning. “What gift?” Oh, how he dreaded that question. He didn’t respond, he needed a little cooling down. “Hey!” Without meaning to, Wu slowed down, allowing Zhen Wen to catch up with him. “What’s going on?” Wang Zhen Wu knew that there was no way he could avoid explaining everything now, but… but he… he was feeling too much right now. He felt like Li Qi had just ruined everything for them. He took a step closer to his step-brother, mouth opening, and ready to tell him everything, but he gave up on it last second. “So what?” He didn’t want to do it there, in the middle of the street, so he took hold of Wen’s hand, guiding him to the school’s rooftop, where he hoped no one would interrupt them. He kept nibbling on his lip the whole way there. Wang Zhen Wu didn’t let go of Wen’s hand until they had reached their destination. He didn’t really know how to start this conversation. He still felt too conflicted to form coherent thoughts. He didn’t look at Zhen Wen when he started explaining how the whole Li Qi story begun. “She approached me a few weeks ago…” Wu took a deep breath before continuing, his gaze was solely focused on the grey afternoon sky. “She would always talk to me, ask me how I was doing, and make small conversation, requests…” He averted his gaze and looked at the ground instead, teeth sinking onto his lower lip once again. It was a bad habit of his, it seems. “At first I thought she liked me… but then she started making weird questions about you.” Zhen Wu sighed softly, recalling the dialogues in his mind. “She would ask me what things you liked, what you hated, if you had someone you liked already, and… and I did nothing to stop her from getting her hopes up.” He finally looked at Wang Zhen Wen, but the younger boy had his back turned on him. “Just before the holidays she asked me to give you a gift and ask you to call her, but I didn’t.” Wu noticed that Zhen Wen didn’t say anything while he gave his explanation. The younger of the two just kept staring out at the horizon, almost like he was processing all the information. Wang Zhen Wu couldn’t blame him. “What exactly are you trying to tell me?” Zhen Wu lost no time to clarify this time, even though he thought that he had been clear enough. “The person she likes is you.” The words left his mouth with a bitter taste, bringing up a bubbling sense of anger… or maybe it was jealousy. He couldn’t pinpoint. He turned away from Wen to avoid his gaze. “The person that she is interested is me?” Why did he have to keep repeating those words? Couldn’t he tell it was making Wu feel worse? “That’s right!” His voice sounded much angrier than he wanted, this was not directed at Wang Zhen Wen, but rather at himself… “Then what about all those things that I’ve seen?” He turned his head to avoid the other’s gaze again. “Nothing, really.” He hated this conversation. “When I misunderstood her as your girlfriend, why didn’t you say something?” Why didn’t he? He had no idea, but he knew he deserved that punch, and even more, if that’s what Zhen Wen wanted to do. “When I accidentally saw your phone, why did you get mad?” The anger resurfaced inside Wu. “Do I have to say it?” How could he say something he was not sure of? “If you don’t say it, how would I know what you are thinking about?” Both of them were angry now, voices had been raised, and it could easily get out of control. This right here could be exactly how they fell apart. “I don’t want you to know that someone likes you!” Once again the words came out angrier than he had intended, all due the pent up frustration. He took a step forward, and Wen took a step back. They were still apart. “Why?” Wu could feel Zhen Wen’s resolve faltering. “I don’t know…” And he was really being sincere. He didn’t know why, and it was what frustrated him the most. “Do you know that you’ve gone too far?” Wang Zhen Wen sounded hurt now, but in Zhen Wu’s current state, he couldn’t bring himself to feel guilty. “I… I am the one who has gone too far?” He regretted those words the moment they were out of his mouth, but there was no taking it back now. “Never mind… forget what I said… I need to head back.” Wang Zhen Wu could feel Wen’s hurt, but he could not let him go, at least not until they resolved this. “Give me some time, so that I can think this through.” He roughly grabbed Zhen Wen’s arm, an attempt to keep the other there. Perhaps it was not the best call, because not even a second later the younger male tugged his arm back. “What’s there to think about?” And they were back to the heated talking, and their pent up frustration coming off through words. “You and I… the thing between us.” Wang Zhen Wu dropped a few octaves with that sentence. He… maybe he was starting to understand. “What’s there between us?” This time it was Wen who used Zhen Wu’s tactic of walking and avoiding eye contact as he nervously scratched the nape of his neck. “I heard what you said yesterday…” Wu saw his step-brother freeze immediately, and then turn slowly to look at him. “What do you mean by you heard it?” For some reason, Wang Zhen Wu felt a surge of confidence. “Everything.” He wouldn’t let Zhen Wen go, wouldn’t let him escape and push him away, so when he tried to leave, Wu brought him to his arms, stopping Wen there. “Can you give me a little more time, please?” He was not sure of his feelings just yet, but what he knew without any doubt was that he didn’t want to live a life that didn’t have Wang Zhen Wen in it, a life where they avoided each other, a life where he couldn’t give him affection… The response came unorthodoxly through a soft touch of hands, and suddenly Zhen Wen was hugging him back. That was when Wu knew he had made the right decision. His arms tightened around Wen, and he just kept the other boy there in his embrace, enjoying the sense of belonging he only ever felt when he held the other in his arms. -x- That evening, when they got home, the pair had another heart-to-heart. There were still a few more things they needed to clear before they could be at peace of mind. Thankfully for them, the parental units were not home when they got there, so they could talk without the fear of one of them eavesdropping on the conversation. It would bring a whole new layer of drama that Wang Zhen Wu was sincerely not ready to face yet. He still felt slightly overwhelmed with the revelation that Zhen Wen had feelings for him, even if it seemed that, he too, had feelings for the other boy. Wu decided to lock the door of their bedroom, just for safety, and then he proceeded to join Wen on his bed. His step-brother still seemed a little upset. Hesitantly, he extended his hand and gently cupped the side of Wen’s face, lifting his chin, so their gazes could meet. He knew it was the right call when he saw the other smile, albeit weakly. “I… I’m still not sure what my feelings for you are.” Zhen Wu started, his hand dropping from Wang Zhen Wen’s cheek to travel down they other’s arm, where at the end their fingers were linked together. “We are brothers, and… we shouldn’t be like this, but I know now that would make us unhappy.” Wen was staring intently at him, just listening to Wu open his heart. “I don’t know what we should do, I just don’t want you push me away… I want to be close to you, like before… but more.” It seemed like those were the right words, because Zhen Wu felt pressure in his fingers, meaning Wen was giving them a reassuring squeeze. “We don’t have to decide now… We are still young.” Wu, whom had looked down at their intertwined digits was now looking back up at his step-brother, listening to what his solution to this was. “We should just do what makes us happy and leave the rest to time.” Wu saw Wang Zhen Wen smile at him once again, this time fondly, and so he smiled back. The following few days brought a new sense of awkwardness between the pair. Wang Zhen Wu could feel that Zhen Wen was more anxious than normal, but at least he didn’t go back to avoiding Wu or anything like that. The worst part was actually when they met with Li Qi the day after match. The girl seemed happy and expectant, and also so sure of herself. Zhen Wu made to leave to give them a sense of privacy, so Wen could talk things out with her, but his step-brother had a different opinion on that apparently, because he tugged on Wu’s hand to keep him close and in place. “Li Qi…” He heard Wen saying, and then the other boy sighed, continuing what he wanted to say. “I can’t accept you… I already have someone I like.” Differently from what Wang Zhen Wu was expecting, the girl didn’t react as badly as what he would see in series. Li Qi seemed a little upset, yes, but she still smiled at them, her head held high. “Zhen Wen… I hope she will make you happy.” The girl graced then with a little wave and then quickly stalked off in the opposite direction from them. Wu genuinely hoped she would find someone to take care of her; she seemed like a good person. After that they didn’t experience any heavily awkward moments, they were more concerned about easing their way back into how close they used to be before, even if now that line was blurred. Zhen Wu, of course, was still not sure of the feelings he held for the other yet, but one thing he knew, it was stronger than anything he had ever felt before, and so he was happy simply getting to spoon Wang Zhen Wen at night, or hold his hand, or even just be in silence together in the same place. His happiness was resumed by that, having both his proximity with Wen and volleyball back in his life, even if the former was still an unlabelled thing. Some days they would still experience a bit of a drawback, things couldn’t fix themselves so quickly, but both of them were willing to put in the effort, so that was what really mattered. He could still remember the first few touches they shared, though. It was the first weekend since they got back to being in good terms with each other. They were both lying on Wu’s bed, barely even awake. Sunlight was coming from a crack in the curtains. Zhen Wu had a small fond smile on his face as he looked at the mess that was Wang Zhen Wen’s hair. Wu was laid on his side, spooning the other boy, while Wen was on his back, chest heaving up and down slowly with his breath. The lighting in the room was dim, but it made everything all the more beautiful in Wang Zhen Wu’s eyes, so almost instinctively he brushed his lips against Wen’s, whom quickly shied away from the exchange and rolled to his side, pressing his face against the crook of Wu’s neck, bringing a smile to his face. “Good morning.” The second time it happened, they were both fully awake. Practice had been exhausting and they had a literature book to read for school. Zhen Wu’s back was resting against the headboard of his bed, his legs were spread open with Wang Zhen Wen resting between them and against his chest. He held the book in one hand, reading it loud enough for only the two of them to hear, so it wouldn’t bother the rest of the house’s occupants. The story was not really the most exciting, it was dramatic and full of clichés, but he couldn’t say it was bad. As time passed, Wang Zhen Wu felt Wen growing restless, so eventually he closed the book and put it down on the mattress. “What's wrong?” The question was entirely too genuine, he really was concerned as to what could be bothering Zhen Wen. “Nothing.” He had already expected that kind of response, and as he had guessed, his step-brother had sat straighter and was not looking at him. Much like that first time, he gently cupped the other boy’s chin, slowly turning his head to meet his eyes. “Tell me… please.” Wu had expected Wang Zhen Wen to clarify what was wrong then, but he didn’t, so instead both boys were caught up in a staring match that gave no room for actual conversation. Their faces were close, too close, enough so that he could feel nervousness oozing off of Wen. Their hearts seemed to be beating rapidly, and in pace with each other. When the movement finally came, it was hesitant. Zhen Wu’s hand tightened its grasp and gently started pulling Wang Zhen Wen’s face closer. They kept staring from each other’s eyes to their lips, until the distance between them was finally closed. It was just a soft touch, but it made the world lose its entire colour, it was like there was only the two of them in the entire universe. It was an explosion of sensations and it made warmth spread all throughout Wang Zhen Wu’s body until the only thing he could feel was where Wen’s skin was connected to his. When they pulled back from the kiss, Wu added one little peck more and then returned to his previous position, leaning against the headboard of the bed, book in hand and Zhen Wen against his chest. -x- The school’s rooftop became their spot. It both brought back memories and gave them a sense of privacy that was necessary for this early stage of their relationship. It was still something new and perhaps even fragile, so it was best to avoid the judgement, at least for a little while. There they could be themselves, they could hug, they could cuddle, they could talk and feed each other and no one would say anything. Sometimes Yu Hao would join them up there and they would contain themselves, but he never stayed for long, for some reason. Wu didn’t really know why, though, but he figured it probably had something to do with Zi Xuan. That day was no exception. Wang Zhen Wu was standing beside Zhen Wen’s sitting form, feeding him the remnants of the lunchbox he had bought for them. Their friend was a little further to the side, looking angsty and frustrated as he leant against the edge of the rooftop, staring ahead. “Hey! You guys have made peace with each other?” Both Wu and Wen looked at Xia Yu Hao, but Zhen Wu let his other half do the talking. “He knew it, but the problems are still unsolved.” That was true. There were still many loose ends in their relationship. “But we had an agreement to let the time to solve the problem.” Wang Zhen Wu smiled at the memory. “What do you mean?” Wu kept shifting his gaze from one to the other, happy in just observing the exchange and how he couldn’t see any trace of judgement in their friend’s face. “The way we treated each other made us unhappy, so we decided to do what we like and do the things that will make us happy.” It was a bold move, with so many possibilities of going wrong, but Zhen Wu wouldn’t have chosen it any other way, and that was clear by the way he placed his arm around Wen and grinned at Yu Hao. “Just leave the rest to the time.” “So you guys still bury your heads in the sand?” Wu understood the metaphor, so this time he took the lead in the explanation, face acquiring a more serious expression, despite the light mood surrounding them. “We’re still trying to face it. After all, some things need time to clear it. Right?” The question at the end was aimed at Wang Zhen Wen and coupled with a closer half-hug until the boy stood up. After that they began talking about Xia Yu Hao’s situation with Zi Xuan, and how they were still not in speaking terms ever since the night before the match against Ren He high school. In the end their friend vanished from the rooftop, claiming that he was about to be blind. “Why is he about to be blind?” Wen asked as Wu wrapped an arm around his neck. Zhen Wu had actually gotten the meaning behind Yu Hao’s words, but still he just grinned, without offering any clarification. “I don’t know either.” He then placed a little kiss to the side of Wang Zhen Wen’s head, taking pleasure in the fleeting display of affection, though he was surprised when the other boy actually placed a peck to the corner of his lips. It was the first time Wen initiated a kiss between them, so Wu was a little startled, but at the same time he wanted to appreciate the moment, so he just kept staring at his loved one and grinning. He couldn’t imagine himself ever being this happy with anyone else but Zhen Wen. No matter how difficult their journey would get, he decided he would face all and everything to keep Wang Zhen Wen by his side for as long as the other wanted. This would be their happy ending. *Chang Li Qin was Wang Zhen Wu’s name before he took Wang Zhen Wen’s family name. **I assume it was Wu’s mom that married Wen’s father, since in the end he took Wen’s family name. Feel free to correct me if I’m wrong.

Read on AO3 here.

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tvdversefanfiction · 4 years ago

Text

Origins of Magic: Part Two

CHAPTER 22 LINK HERE

Warnings: I do not own the rights to the television series “The Originals”, “Vampire Diaries”, or “Legacies” and do not own any of the characters within the TVD universe, I am making no profit from this and have no intention for this fanfiction series except for readers to enjoy. 15+ Mild to Strong Violence, Strong Language, Witchcraft, sexual scenes, and sexual references. F/F, F/M, M/M, Other.

Chapter 23 - The Best of The Worst

“Primrose,” Kayne said with panted breath as he walked into a hotel room within New Orleans where he had arranged to meet Magnus and Rose. “Kayne,” Rose replied as she rushed over to hug her newly revived brother, holding him in her tight embrace as she hoped to never suffer losing him again. “I’m so glad our brother did something right for once!” “Okay now you two have caught up can we get to where the hell the Mikaelson family is so we can end their miserable existences before we end the rest of their family?” Magnus asked them both making it clear he did not have time to waste on family reunions. “I told you Hope’s off-limits,” Rose told her oldest brother Magnus as she broke off her hug with her younger brother Kayne. “I made a deal with her, and she’s done nothing to piss me off as of yet so until then she lives.” “As does our sister Bella.” Kayne chimed in. “If we are really doing this, killing the Mikaelson’s, then Bella, her baby, and Marcel are off-limits too.” “Fine.” Magnus agreed reluctantly. “Not a chance in hell!” Rose shouted at Kayne. “She was all ready to play happy families with the very same family who slaughtered her brother, she needs to pay for everything she has done to us all.” “Bella did what she had to do for her child her loyalties are within her future kid, and she has every right to protect our niece or nephew with everything she has got. Our sister wants nothing to do with this war on either side of it if we are truly her siblings then we should respect that and allow her to live whatever life she chooses.” Kayne argued with his sister, making it clear he did not blame Bella’s decisions, and neither should they. “Kayne is right,” Magnus stated, surprising both Rose and Kayne by agreeing with Kayne. “Annabella has betrayed more than anyone ever has but she is still our sister and that child she is carrying is our family too. We should protect the unborn baby and allow Bella a pass from this war it is what is right.” “Since when did you become all team family? It was not too long ago you were ready to kill us all.” Rose snapped at Magnus, suspicious of his sudden turnaround. “It’s the child, isn’t it?” Kayne asked his brother, realizing the truth behind Magnus’ sudden interest in reuniting their family. “It was pretty obvious you wanted the demons released just as much as you wanted us both free from that realm, but I could not work out why you suddenly wanted to be part of the Black family again. Bella’s child, the firstborn from any of us meaning that child’s power is yet unknown but with an upgraded original being its father that power is bound to beyond anything we could imagine…you do not care about this war nor do you care about your family you just want us all to kill each other so it's easier for you to get your hands on what you really want…Bella’s child.” “You’re wrong Kayne, yes I want that child to be a part of our family, and yes I am highly intrigued by the power it may wield but I do not want you or any of my siblings to die in order to get my hands on that child,” Magnus said, denying Kayne’s accusations. “The Mikaelsons must fall so we can truly rise but when I say we I mean us all.” “Well, I’m in whether we wind up kidnapping that baby or not I’m still in.” Rose declared making it clear to her brothers she was ready for all forms of revenge towards everyone who had ever wronged her. “I’m out! In fact, I was never truly in but now I am truly out.” Kayne confessed before raising his hand in the air, moving it in a circle swiftly, and using his magic to force his siblings into a deep sleep, their unconscious bodies quickly falling to the hotel room floor, as Kayne realized what he had to do next.

Kayne Black did believe that his family should come first but Bella was his family too and she was pregnant with the only member of their family who at that time was completely and utterly innocent which made him question his loyalty to Magnus and Rose, knowing Magnus was clearly interested in this miracle child made him worry for Bella’s unborn child and knowing of Rose’s hunger for vengeance towards their sister did not fare well for Bella and her baby either. So, he decided to turn to the other family that his eldest sister Annabella Black was torn between despite the guilt he felt for betraying Rose, he just could not trust her and especially not Magnus when it came to doing right by his potential niece or nephew and as the Mikaelsons considered Marcel as one of their own he knew they would accept his child too. “Long time no see lover boy.” Kayne greeted Klaus after astral projecting himself into the prison world that Rose had created, deep within the woods of Mystic Falls. “Home sweet hell I see…if it were up to me to create, I’d have gone less bloody obvious and a lot more brutal.” “I was wondering if there were others here or perhaps, you’re a figment of my imagination,” Klaus replied to him with a smile on his face, happy to see his former lover once again. “Maybe you’re my conscience making me feel guilty for choosing to betray you instead of trusting you.” “Well, I am most definitely not your conscience considering I am not sold on you having one neither am I actually here, my astral self is,” Kayne revealed to the original hybrid. “I was all for joining my siblings in exacting revenge on you and everybody else in your family, but they are proving to be as trustworthy as you right about now so I’m going to break you out of this shabby little world my sister has roughly drawn out for yourself, Elijah, and Rebekah.” “You’re alive…again.” Klaus realized as he found himself overcome with relief. “No thanks to you…thanks to Magnus actually and yet I’m betraying him and I’m betraying the one sister who would never betray me and not because of you definitely not because of you but because of the child Bella is carrying…a child who you could call your grandchild,” Kayne confessed making it clear his decision to help Klaus was not an easy decision to make but that he felt it was the right one. “So, we are a team again?” Klaus said, amused by the notion. “Just like old times.” “I’m prison breaking you and your siblings, but I have terms and conditions about this war against my family, and trust me with the state the world’s in right now you are going to want Bella and myself willing to help when the demons rise,” Kayne stated, struggling to see Klaus’ victorious smile, wanting to wipe it off his face but knowing he could not, at least not at that moment. “Whatever you demand I will submit to my love,” Klaus replied in a flirtatious manner as if he thought Kayne had forgiven him for his misdeeds. “I do not want nor need your word because I do not and will not ever again trust it. Take me to Elijah he is after all the noble one, take me to him, and once I get his promise, I will release you all, but I’d hurry if I were you because Magnus and Rose will not be sleeping long and once, they awake they’ll know exactly what I am up to.” Kayne responded coldly hoping his words of mistrust hurt Klaus for even a moment, hoping he had caused the hybrid a fraction of the pain that he had caused him.

Bella Black could not help but feel guilty for not siding with her siblings even if Kayne seemed to understand her motives behind not joining their war against the Mikaelsons she knew Rose never would. She knew she had failed her younger sister many times in the past whether it was being too strict with her, not being strict enough, or the time she was willing to let her die so Kayne could live, especially the letting her die part. Bella once trusted her brother Magnus with her life, the two were side by side for many years but his jealousy over their younger siblings Primrose and Kayne forced her hand into taking him out too, so trusting whatever he had planned was another risk she could not take, fearing he would double-cross them all at any given chance. No, the risk of siding with her siblings against the Mikaelsons were far too high not just because of their legacy as the original family of vampires but also that they were more of a family than her or her siblings would ever hope to be, and that loyalty would be what conquered all in the end. There was no chance her siblings nor her would make it out alive so why did she feel so bad for abandoning siblings who had each abandoned her many times before? Because deep down although their shared memories of being siblings may have been a result of the woman, they once thought to be their mother’s spells, despite all that being found out to be nothing more than magical lies, Bella could not imagine having loved any of them any less like the family had she knew the truth all that time, even Magnus. “I do not think I can do this, I want to do this, everything inside of me is telling me to do this, but they are my family, Marcel.” Bella declared to Marcel Gerard as she sat in the passenger seat of his car with her hands stroking her ever-growing baby bump, while Marcel sat in the driving seat clearly looking frustrated by Bella’s admission, driving along a quiet road in the middle of the night. “Klaus was and some ways still are like a father to me I love his kid like she is my sister, but I refuse to be in another one of their wars when it is over stupid hurt feelings,” Marcel replied to the centuries-old witch who was carrying his unborn child. “That is exactly why I cannot watch them all just slaughter each other I told myself I was running for my child that the means justify the ends, but it is exactly that kind of thinking that has caused nothing but centuries of betrayals, heartbreak, and death,” Bella explained herself to the upgraded original. “We need to stop them, force some kind of intervention, and make sure they cannot leave until we reach a satisfying conclusion whereas little people die as possible.” “Damn it! Annabella Black, I guess we are turning this car around.” Marcel said with panted breath as he admitted defeat in this argument, knowing that he did not want Rebekah nor Klaus to die over some century’s long vendetta with a family who they had wronged just as much as that family had wronged them.

Klaus Mikaelson knew that Kayne Black no longer trusted him for rightful reasons and he probably loathed him too, again for rightful reasons, but somehow despite all the reasons Klaus had given him to declare war on the Mikaelson family, Kayne had put the future of his sister’s unborn child above all vengeance and even other family ties proving that the man Klaus once loved, the man with a loyal and loving heart, was still there despite all the trauma that he had gone through. Kayne, or rather his astral projection self, reluctantly agreed to allow Klaus to give him a quick tour around the little prison world that Kayne’s vengeful sister Rose created, agreeing only because of the promise of finding both Elijah and Rebekah along the way so he could get all three Mikaelsons before leaving the prison world with them. “I hope you know killing you was my biggest regret it was never an easy decision for me to make but I would do anything for my family especially my daughter and I genuinely believed I was doing the right thing for my family.” Klaus apologized to the male witch, apologies being something the original hybrid rarely delivered. “I understand that way of thinking Niklaus I even forgive that way of thinking but what I’ll never forgive is you not trusting me enough…despite everything I never stopped loving you when you gave me a million reasons too, but I suppose I should thank you for killing me because when you did you killed whatever love I had left for you,” Kayne replied, somewhat accepting Klaus’ apology. “Which is good because now I can think freely, logically, without allowing the past to affect my decisions.” “Then I am glad I could get you to such a level-headed state of mind.” Klaus lied, knowing he had no right to hurt Kayne moving on from him if he really had. “I suppose this either means you have cheated death again or we’re as dead as you are,” Rebekah said after using her vampire speed to rush over and find herself stood in front of Kayne and Klaus. “If you are here to torture us all please remember Niklaus did the deed as Elijah watched whereas I had no bloody clue what was going on…granted I’d probably have done the same, but the point still stands that I never.” “The same as ever Rebekah,” Kayne responded with a laugh, amused by the original female vampire. “Believe it or not I’m breaking you and your brothers free from this place.” “I do not believe it!” Rebekah stated with a great sense of suspicion over Kayne’s alleged willingness to help them. “I believe it!” Elijah announced after he too used his vampire speed to appear as if from out of nowhere to now stand in front of Kayne and Klaus, standing next to Rebekah. “Your eldest sister is about to have a child and although you know we are dangerous you also know we would never hurt a child…something you cannot say about your siblings Magnus or Rose.” “Exactly use, are truly the best of the worst in this scenario,” Kayne said with a saddened sigh, taking absolutely no pleasure whatsoever in betraying his sister Rose or even his brother Magnus. Suddenly, much to the shock of both Kayne and Klaus, both Rebekah and Elijah suddenly vanished out of thin air, within a blink of the eye. “Well, that did not take you as long as I thought it would,” Klaus stated before noticing that Kayne was equally as shocked as himself meaning someone else had released Elijah and Rebekah from this prison world. “That was not me!” Kayne replied, before he and Klaus were next to vanish into thin air, neither knowing where they were about to go, or what hell awaited them…

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