#and i suspect that the nature of that park would make it unlikely i could get my eyes on a blueprint or explanation

[krawdad]

Yeah if you're going to put a projection effect into your theme park attraction you need to do some other stuff to distract from/disguise the screen itself. Not only do you now have to sell the scene you're crafting but you also have to find some way to make it not just look like a screen.

The aquarium section in the jurassic park ride seems like probably the best way you could do it. They've made it so that you can only really see one or two screens at a time, they made sure the protected image doesn't have anything that gives itself away, and they put the screens behind glass and added practical water effects to help sell the illusion. And like I was still sort of frustrated at the cheapness of it just being screens, until I realized that whole scene replaced a bunch of animatronics that had spent most of their time in a non-functioning state of disrepair. Screens that you're trying to make look good is better than just leaving an animatronic to rot I can't really argue that.

[blairenqs]

୨୧ CAUGHT IN THE ACT ✧ SPENCER REID

───── IN WHICH 𝗆𝗈����𝗀𝖺𝗇 𝗎𝗇𝖾𝗑𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽𝗅𝗒 𝖼𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾𝗋 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗅𝗈𝗍 !

𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗋𝖾𝗍 𝖻𝖿!spencer 𝓍 𝒻! 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 1.1𝖪 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗎𝗍, 𝗌𝗁𝗒 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾, 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉 ♡ ⎯⎯ 𝖠𝖱𝖢𝖧𝒾𝖵𝖤

LUNCH BREAKS AT THE BAU were a rare occurrence, and peaceful ones were practically nonexistent.

so when spencer quietly asked you to join him in his car for a moment of privacy, you couldn’t possibly say no.

the bullpen was loud, filled with agents and cases to be discussed, and even the break room wasn’t safe from the work chatter.

now you were here, sitting in the passenger seat of spencer’s old, slightly cluttered car. his bag sat in the back, along with a few scattered books and the faint smell of coffee lingered in the air.

he sat beside you, legs awkwardly angled in the tight space, his knee brushing yours every so often as he shifted around nervously.

“this feels risky,” spencer mumbled, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his cardigan. his voice was a whisper as his eyes scanned around the parking lot, looking for any signs of movement though it was highly unlikely anybody from your team would make their way to the parking lot.

“you think everything’s risky, spence.” you teased, leaning a little closer to him. the corners of your mouth quirked up as you added, “but that doesn’t mean you’re not enjoying it.” —READ MORE!

his lips parted to respond, but instead of words, a soft laugh escaped his mouth. “i am,” he admitted, his cheeks flushing that same endearing pink. “it’s just.. you know how the others are already suspecting of our relationship— especially morgan! if he even suspects anything, he’ll—”

“—never let it go,” you finished for him, grinning. “i know. but we’re fine, spence. no one’s looking for us.”

he hesitated, his hand moving near yours on the console. you took the initiative, gently wrapping your fingers around his.

his hand was warm, a little clammy from nerves, but it fit perfectly in yours. that small touch seemed to ground him, and his shoulders relaxed slightly as he turned to look at you.

the way he looked at you. soft, hesitant, like he was still in awe that this was real—made your heart warm.

slowly, you leaned closer, your hand brushing against his cheek to bring him forward. he didn’t resist, tilting his head just enough to meet you halfway.

when your lips finally met, it was as sweet and careful as ever, his kiss unhurried and slow, as if he were savoring every second.

his hand rested lightly on your thigh, the touch barely there, yet it sent a sharp shiver down your spine nonetheless—as spencers touch always did.

spencer kissed you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world, and in moments like this, it felt like you were—no cases, no crime scenes, just you and him.

the kiss deepened naturally, getting more heated by the second—his lips getting needier and searching against yours.

you could still feel the nervous energy of making out in such an exposed area in the way his fingers tightened slightly around yours, but you also felt the trust in the way he leaned into you, his body relaxing more with each passing second.

until you heard it.

a sharp knock on the driver’s side window.

you and spencer both flinched so hard that you bumped into each other, breaking the kiss with an awkward clash of foreheads.

spencer let out a startled, high pitched “ow!” while you turned toward the window, your heart pounding in your chest.

there he was, grinning like a dog who just found a tiny new toy, stood derek morgan. he leaned down slightly, his hands around his eyes to see better through the glass. “am i interrupting something?” he asked, his voice muffled but unmistakably smug and teasing.

spencer’s face went red, and you and him froze like a deer in headlights. for a few seconds, neither of you moved, the tension thick in the cramped car.

finally, with great reluctance, spencer reached over and pressed the button to roll the window down.

the glass slid down with an agonizing slowness, revealing morgan’s face in full, his grin practically glowing.

“well, well, well,” he said, folding his arms on the window ledge. “what do we have here? dr. reid and…” he turned his gaze to you, raising an eyebrow. “i should’ve known. you’ve been sneaking off an awful lot lately.”

spencer’s mouth opened and closed a few times, no words managing to escape. his cheeks were so red you thought he might combust on the spot. “morgan, i—this isn’t—we weren’t—”

morgan held up a hand, cutting him off. “save it, pretty boy. i don’t need the explanation. i saw what i saw.” he glanced between the two of you, his grin somehow growing wider. “and might i just say—wow. didn’t think you had it in you, kid.”

you couldn’t help it, you burst out laughing. it was nervous laughter—sure, but it broke the tension, and you leaned back in your seat, shaking your head.

“come on morgan, don’t you have something better to do than stalk the parking lot?”

“oh, this is better,” morgan shot back, his tone teasing. he straightened up, giving spencer a pointed look.

“you’re lucky it was me and not hotch who caught you two sneaking around. or worse—garcia. you know how she loves gossip.”

spencer groaned, burying his face in his hands. “please don’t tell garcia,” he mumbled, his voice muffled by his hands.

morgan laughed, resting his hand on the car door. “relax, kid. your secret’s safe with me. for now.” he paused, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “but if you owe me a favor down the line, don’t be surprised if i cash it in, oh—make sure you kids don’t get too lost in the smooching, hotch was looking for you both earlier.”

with that, he turned and walked away, still chuckling to himself as he headed back toward the building.

you turned to spencer, who was still hiding behind his hands. “hey,” you said softly, nudging his knee with yours. “it’s okay. he’s just messing with us.”

spencer peeked at you through his fingers, his face still flushed. “this is exactly why i didn’t want anyone to find out,” he muttered.

you smiled, reaching over to gently pull his hands away from his face. “morgan isn’t going to tell anyone. and even if he does, who cares? they’re our friends. they’ll be happy for us.”

he looked at you for a long moment, his expression softening at your smile. “you’re too calm about this,” he said, his voice tinged with disbelief as he leaned his head into your shoulder.

“that’s because i know something you don’t,” you teased, leaning in closer.

“what’s that?”

“that no one could possibly tease you more than morgan just did,” you said, kissing him lightly on the cheek.

despite his anxiousness of the situation, spencer laughed, his shoulders finally relaxing. and even though the lunch break didn’t go as expected, at least the two of you wouldn’t have to hide away something so beautiful anymore—and that made it all the sweeter.

𝖱𝖤𝖡𝖫𝖮𝖦𝖲 𝖠𝖯𝖯𝖱𝖤𝖢𝖨𝖠𝖳𝖤𝖣 ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა

© blairenqs 2025 do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.

✧ 𝑓. FIRST FIC COMPLETED !! please feel free to leave any requests 🫶🫶 i love spencer so much shushdjdj

[flywolfwriting]

Okay so I know I shouldn't be working on the new fic BUT here's a snippet I allowed myself to write for it as a reward for getting ahead in TMITDE. What do y'all think?

(Now there's more!!)

-------

Alastor, to his great surprise, liked New Orleans. The humidity, the people, the history; there was so much going on all the time. He’d even found a nice little jazz club barely a twenty minute walk from his apartment, five minutes if he felt like driving. The best part, however, was the proximity to Jean Lafitte National Park and Historic Preserve; his apartment was less than a half an hour drive away.

He’d been looking forward to visiting since he’d moved and began planning the newest season of his podcast. This year he would be focusing on New Orleans’ most prolific serial killer, with at least 30 confirmed kills and several dozen more suspected victims. Alastor had been wanting to cover this case since he started his podcast four years ago, but wanted to have a sizable following first. He wanted to give it the attention it deserved.

Alastor was drawn to the Butcher of the Bayou not least because they shared a name but because they even looked alike. He didn’t approve of the man’s pastime of course, but every kid was drawn to a look-alike celebrity, and who didn’t go through a macabre phase?

His macabre fascination just turned into his career… not unlike the man he was here to research.

Now, nearly a month after he’d moved in, Alastor could finally make the trip out to the bayou to see for himself where Alastor Hartfelt disposed of his victims - and ultimately met his own gruesome end.

Alastor forced himself to take his time. He wandered through the preserve’s visitor’s center, read all the little plaques. Only when he’d seen everything there did he allow himself to meander down the nature walk. He’d thought about joining one of the guided tours, but he wanted to savor the visit, enjoy the bayou and the history he knew on his own. His own little ritual. There was plenty of time for him to come back, and he would; his first episode of the new season wasn’t set to release for another six weeks.

He first spotted him right as the pathway turned into boardwalk.

Alastor’s heart skipped a beat before he really even realized why. The man looked like an angel with the way the sunlight hit his platinum hair through the trees, lighting up like a halo. He looked so familiar, yet Alastor was certain he’d never seen the man in his life. He would have remembered someone so beautiful, so… ethereal. It was the only word that even began to describe him.

Quickly looking away before he could get caught staring, Alastor busied himself fiddling with his phone. He snapped a few pictures of the trees, and when he turned to look again the man was gone.

He spotted him again further down the boardwalk, standing and simply staring out into the bayou. Alastor couldn’t see anybody else around and was overwhelmed by the urge to speak to the beautiful stranger. But why? How? He needed an interesting starter; not a cheesy pickup line, Alastor wasn’t any good at those anyway.

Something interesting. The whole reason he was here. That was interesting. His 1.2 million listeners certainly thought so.

Alastor casually sidled up beside the other man - good god he was short! - and said, “Did you know a serial killer disposed of bodies here?”

[maple-seed]

Thrown - Chapter 27: Resolve

Summary: The new year is celebrated with unfamiliar traditions.

Word Count: 1,711

Warnings: Mild alcohol consumption

Author's Note: And we're back! I hope everyone is doing well and I hope the new year brings you everything you need.

Masterlist

Loki understood the humans' division of years. It was reasonable; the span of time in which their planet revolves around their sun with a predictable, repetitive cycle of seasons. The part that perplexed him was the day they designated as the beginning of that cycle. It wasn't the beginning of a season, it had no astronomical significance, it seemed to be a completely arbitrary day in their journey through space. He suspected it started with someone looking for another excuse to celebrate during this absolutely dismal season and the rest of them just went with it. He admitted it was difficult to argue against.

The human town apparently made a spectacle of the event every year. It was said that most of the population came out for the fireworks and revelry and, from what he heard, much of New Asgard seemed to be planning on joining in. He and Thor were not the exception; Valkyrie had picked them up in her beaten blue truck and they were currently en route to meet you at the celebration. There would be libations to consume but the Midgard drinks were unlikely to have much effect on the gods. It was unfortunate that there weren't any Æsir spirits available yet. He could use a drink. Supposedly Asbjorn and his sons were making great strides in brewing something akin to Asgardian liquor, but there wasn't yet enough volume for general consumption.

"So, you guys planning on kissing anyone tonight?" Valkyrie kept her eyes on the street as they passed through New Asgard, only glancing at the brothers. Thor and Loki turned to her with blank stares. "You haven't heard? It's a tradition. They kiss someone at midnight. It's supposed to be good luck." She shrugged. "I thought it was cute." Thor chuckled. "Indeed. I can't say I have any intention of participating."

Loki said nothing, but naturally his mind immediately turned to you. As he watched the scenery out the window he allowed himself the indulgence of imagining kissing you, his hands cupping your face and pulling you close. He wondered how you might respond. The fantasy was quickly broken by a dread reality. Were you going to kiss someone tonight? He couldn't be sure if there was someone you had your eye on. In all the long conversations the two of you had shared, romance rarely came up. It seemed to be the sort of thing you kept to yourself. Was there someone you would bestow your affections on? Would he have to see it? He thought back to the man behind the counter at the cafe and glowered. He wasn't prepared for that sight. However, it was too late to back out of the event without drawing questions he didn't want to answer. He could really use a drink.

The town was filled with people strolling through the streets, generally moving in the same direction. It became apparent that the truck wouldn't get much further than this, so Valkyrie parked and the gods stepped out into the throng. The crowd was flowing toward the edge of town and up a slight hill near the harbor. The buildings opened into a wide, paved promenade. One side of the promenade was lined with shops, and the other looked out to the ocean, where a barge could be seen anchored in the distance. All the snow had been cleared away from the pavement and people were gathering here for the fireworks show, which would presumably be administered by the barge. Some groups had spread out blankets while others had folding chairs. Children were running about, Asgardians and humans were mingling freely. Picnic dinners were being enjoyed and a few food stalls were set up here and there.

"Boys! Val!" The three gods turned to see you approaching, Ash at your side. You were carrying a plastic champagne flute, which was currently empty. Judging by the flush of your face and the slightest hint of stagger in your step, Loki would guess this wasn't the first time you had emptied it. "You made it!" You reached the group and grabbed Thor's hand --Loki easily buried the slight sting of envy-- and began pulling him through the crowd. "We're set up over here." Thor chuckled. "I see you've already begun the festivities." He gestured toward your glass. "Gotta hit my quota before the year's over." You shot him a wink.

You led them through the promenade to a cluster of chairs beside a blanket. Khadija was sitting in one of the chairs, next to a man who Loki assumed to be her husband. He was shortly proven correct as you introduced them. Thor asked after Hani and was informed that she was flitting about with some of the other children. There was no sign of the man from the cafe, or any other potential suitors of yours, at least for now. Loki relaxed a fraction but still prepared contingencies should some romantic prospect make an appearance.

You were holding your glass out to Khadija, who filled it without question. "Are you certain you haven't had enough?" Loki asked with a smirk. You waved him off without a word and brought the glass to your lips. "Let the woman drink." Valkyrie was sitting on the blanket, Ash halfway sprawled into her lap. "I don't know how she's put up with you all this time while sober." "Who says I've been dealing with him sober?" You practically fell into one of the chairs. "Oh, it's very clear that you have been sober." Loki took a seat next to you. "The counterexample currently on display is evidence enough." You scoffed. "I guess you've finally driven me to drinking." You punctuated your point with another sip from the glass.

Food and drink was passed around and cheerful conversation passed the time. Members of the group would leave to greet other friends or acquaintances, or to patronize one of the food stalls, returning again to the little cluster of chairs eventually. Thor was elsewhere when Hani made an appearance, with a young Æsir girl in tow.

Hani stopped in her tracks when she spotted Loki. "Mr. Loki!" She pulled the Æsir girl over to him. "Can you show her your fireworks?" The Asgardian girl looked at him slightly apprehensively, she was clearly aware of his reputation. It stung a little, seeing it here, in contrast to Hani's open friendliness. He held out his hand, palm up, and manifested miniature fireworks above it. Hani clapped with glee. The Æsir girl had a small smile and spoke quietly. "My mother could use seiðr. She said she was going to teach me someday." Loki noted the past tense. "Then we must find you a teacher, as she intended." Her smile grew. Hani was ecstatic. "You'll learn magic!?" In a burst of giggles the two girls bounced away again.

Loki looked over at you. You were watching him with a strange look on your face. It was something akin to admiration. He would bask in it all day if given the chance. He was only given a moment more, Valkyrie asked something and stole your attention away.

Darkness had fallen and Loki was watching the steady waves when he felt a tug at his sleeve. He looked up to find you standing beside him. "Come on, I want to go for a walk."

He stood and offered you his arm which you took without hesitation. Ash remained with Valkyrie as you traipsed away with Loki. You leaned into him, in fact you were practically hanging off of him as the two of you strolled through the crowds. It was delightful. If you had a particular destination in mind, you didn't make it known. You seemed content to simply walk and chat with him in your normal way. Occasionally you would stop him to watch one of the games being played beneath the streetlights. One was spread out across the ground, it seemed to involve tossing wooden batons at wooden blocks on your opponent's side of the pitch. You cheered with the other onlookers when one was knocked over. You paused at another game at a table, two men hunched over a board with little figures on it.

"Oh, hey, look at this one." You said as you stopped to watch a move. "It's a game of strategy. You'd probably be good at it." He watched as the man took one of his opponent's pieces off the board. "Yes, I'm certain I would." You scoffed. "You are always so full of yourself." "Darling, I was merely agreeing with you." You rolled your eyes.

The two of you continued on, meandering around the promenade, gradually working your way back to the cluster of chairs when you expressed your need for more finger food. As the night wore on Loki began to relax. You didn't seem to have any intention of leaving his side and no admirers had made an appearance. He felt a small pang of guilt for the relief that brought him. You deserved to be courted. You deserved that happiness. He shouldn't wish otherwise just to protect his own petty feelings. He found slightly less joy in the fact that you weren't sticking close to some beau in anticipation of midnight. But perhaps you simply didn't subscribe to the tradition.

The fireworks began. Bold, bright bursts of color broke open in the sky over the water. As the barge sent its artillery into the air, the image of kissing you returned to Loki's mind. He willed it away, buried it. It wouldn't do to dwell on something like that while you were close by. He stole a furtive glance at you, as if worried you had heard the thought. You were unaware, admiring the show.

Midnight approached. The crowd began counting down as the fireworks built to a finale. The new year rolled in with the booming of explosives and roar of applause. Loki was startled when you suddenly leaned over to plant a quick kiss on his cheek. You settled back into your chair and immediately broke into laughter, then joined the cheers of the crowd. Couples throughout the promenade were ringing in the new year with shows of affection.

It felt like good luck.

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[impostoradult]

I finally figured out why it feels like Supernatural murdered a unicorn (AKA why you need to STOP telling me to watch Black Sails)

I’ll start by saying, everything everyone else has been saying CERTAINLY bothers me: 

- the queer-baiting - the bury your queers - the undermining of Dean’s character arc  - the wasted opportunity for a certain kind of overall narrative closure - the flat out disrespect to Misha Collins and Jensen Ackles

 All of that bothers me tremendously. 

But there has been something else rather ineffable about this that has left a horrible taste in my mouth that I couldn’t quite pin down until last night. Bear with me, if you will, because this will require some set-up. 

*** This is not the first show to ever disappoint me in a spectacular fashion, nor will it be the last, I suspect. And one of the ways I’ve always coped with that disappointment was to remind myself that there will be other stories, other characters, other chances to get it right. (”It” being any number of things from just pure narrative emotional coherence to not burying your queers to not stringing along your queer audience and then yelling fuck you to them on the way out) 

But somehow that assurance -- that there will be other stories, other characters, other chances to get it right -- has rung particularly hollow in this instance, and I couldn’t quite put my finger on why until yesterday. 

I kept asking myself, why do I still have this feeling, deep in the pit of my stomach, like something was lost here that can never be recovered? 

Because something was lost here that I am doubtful can ever be recovered, and I don’t think I’ve seen anyone else talking about this aspect of it at all. 

***

A few months ago, TV critic Maureen Ryan did a great interview piece with Mike Schur (of Parks & Rec/The Good Place) discussing the death of long-form TV in the streaming era. They explore how the longer seasons and longer runs of traditional broadcast/cable TV provided an opportunity to tell particular kinds of stories that you simply can’t when seasons are 8-10 episodes and series typically run 2-4 seasons (thanks Netflix).

One key thing we’ve all lost in this new era of highly condensed TV storytelling (and of prestige TV narrative styles)? The traditional (several season’s long) slow-burn/will-they-won’t-they romance. Not only is there simply no longer the time or space to write such romances, it has also come to be seen as hacky, manipulative, cheap, artistically impoverished, low-brow, a embarrassing vestige of the era before TV became art™. 

Everybody is trying to be Fleabag now. No one wants to be Frasier. (”It’s really more like a 10 hour movie” they all like to brag)

Obviously TV still has romances, even ‘drawn out’ romances. But ‘drawn out’ in 2020 is like 2-3 seasons, maybe. More commonly it’s like half a season. Take Schitt’s Creek. The number of episodes between when David and Patrick first meet and when they first kiss? Seven. Seven episodes. Half a season. If you watched it live, it took less than 2 months for them to move from introducing that dynamic to consummating it. And I’m not bagging on Schitt’s Creek; I think the David/Patrick’s story is very lovely and well-written. 

But Niles & Daphne (Fraiser) had to wait 7 years and over 150 episodes before they finally got there. Josh & Donna (The West Wing) had to wait 6+ years, and 145 episodes. Mulder & Scully (The X-Files) had to wait 7 seasons and 143 episodes. Booth & Bones had to wait...you see where I am going with this. 

And my point is (and I can’t believe I never realized this explicitly until now): there has NEVER been a queer slow-burn/will-they-won’t-they romance of that type on TV ever. EVER. 

I’m going to say that again, because I think it bares repeating:

There has never been a queer, slow-burn/will-they-won’t-they romance that fits the 100-150 episode paradigm of delayed gratification on TV. 

Not ever.  

I can’t think of ONE example  Not a single, solitary one. And I know queer TV pretty well. Arguably the closest we’ve ever come is Legend of Korra, and that ran 50 episodes, a THIRD of the length of old school will-they-won’t-theys like Booth & Bones or Josh & Donna. 

Queer people have had a fair number of canonical romances on TV by now, even fairly long running ones. But we never got a primary/front-and-center romance that you had to root for for 100+ episodes before you got any kind of canonical consummation.

That is a particular kind of TV experience that queer people and queer characters were just 100% shut out of until it was too late. And because of how the TV landscape has changed in the last 10 years, I don’t know that that opportunity will ever come back around in our lifetimes. 

***

Dean and Castiel are/were a legacy of an earlier era of TV, an era that still contained the possibility for a will-they-won’t-they of that particular mold. There were other shows that could have also filled this gap at one time - Rizzoli & Isles, OUAT, House MD, etc. But one by one all of them were killed off, their queer romances unrequited, until Supernatural was the only one of its’ generation left standing. 

And they should have acknowledged that they were a species about to become extinct. 

There are plenty of other valid and compelling reasons Supernatural should have gone full Destiel, don’t get me wrong.

A) It would have been the most emotionally satisfying ending to the series and to those characters (and that would have been reason enough). 

B) It would have stopped the manipulative queer-baiting of the (disproportionately queer) fanbase (and that would have been reason enough). 

C) It would have been queer representation of middle-aged men, of bi men, of queers who came to their queerness later in life (and any/all of those would have been reason enough). 

D) It could have been a glorious subversion of the bury your queers trope, considering how often they’ve died and been resurrected (and that would have been reason enough). 

But point E) on this list is the reason this one hurts in a singular way that no one even appears to be acknowledging. 

Almost all of the other wrongs and missed opportunities contained in this Supernatural debacle have the possibility of being rectified (at least to a degree) elsewhere. I can and I likely will get more bi male characters from TV as time goes on. I can and likely will get more middle-aged queer characters. I can and likely will get more queer characters coming to their queerness later in life, and starting queer romances later in life. I can and likely will get more queer characters who aren’t killed cheaply and prematurely. I can and likely will get more genre TV shows with sprawling myth arc plots that are resolved in a coherent, satisfying way. I can and likely will get Misha Collins and Jensen Ackles involved in other projects that value their work and their talents. 

All of those other things are at the very least POSSIBLE, and many are even likely. 

But a queer 100-150 episode slow-burn romance a la Mulder & Scully or Niles & Daphne or Booth & Bones? That is the one baton Supernatural dropped spectacularly that no one else even has the possibility of picking up again for the foreseeable future. (They don’t even write those types of romances for heterosexuals anymore!) 

Seriously. It was a TV unicorn. And rather than letting it run wild and free, they stabbed it with a rusty nail. 

***

Given the monumental shifts in the TV landscape that have occurred in the last decade, I don’t know that TV will ever go back to the slow-burn/will-they-won’t-they romance spanning 100-150 episodes. Today it is a miracle if you can get ANY show to last longer than 50 episodes in the first place. 

And that is the piece of this that makes it feel (to me) like they murdered a unicorn.  

Because queer people have gotten a lot of things from TV, and they will get a lot more as time goes on. But that one? That one could very well be a totally extinct species.

That is the larger missed opportunity here that has left this feeling especially hollow and destructive. That is the thing that makes me balk when people tell me to go watch Black Sails or Pose or whatever other prestige TV show is doing this representation ‘better.’ Because that’s not really the loss I am mourning here. I KNOW there is ‘better’ representation elsewhere.  

But the will-they-won’t-they/slow-burn romance is a qualitatively unique thing that queer people literally just never got. Ever. There is no substitute, no alternate, no other show I can turn to with that kind of build-up and pay-off for a queer couple, and there probably won’t be in my lifetime. Not unless the TV industry undergoes another monumental evolution similar to the streaming revolution that shifts the incentives back to telling those types of stories again. 

All those shows you want me to displace Supernatural with? None of them can give me the one thing I uniquely wanted (and could have gotten) from Supernatural. THAT ALTERNATE SHOW DOESN’T EXIST. It doesn’t exist. And I have no reason to hope it will ever exist in my lifetime. 

So stop telling me to look somewhere else; you don’t understand what made this one a unicorn. 

***

Addendum: The only other possible show that could perhaps fill this gap is It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia (re: Mac/Dennis). But I’m hesitant to say it exactly meets that criteria, for a number of reasons:

1 - It’s far less serialized relative to Supernatural and (except for a handful of stand-alone episodes) very little of the story is grounded specifically in Dennis/Mac’s romantic dynamic (unlike SPN, where it is absolutely central to much of the narrative)

2 - IASIP is fundamentally satirically in nature/tone which makes it much harder to have genuine romantic pathos (not impossible, but harder) 

3 - All the characters on IASIP are fundamentally crummy people who you aren’t exactly supposed to root for. Which doesn’t mean a romance between two of them can’t have its value/charm/worth but it’s not the same as when it is between characters who unequivocally deserve nice things/happy endings

[hereforhalstead]

Period Pains

*Gif not mine, credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader.

• Requested: Nope! Just fancied some soft!Jay

• Warnings: pure fluff besties 

• Summary: Jay looks after you as you experience a rough period, unlike anything you’ve felt before. 

• Words: 2482.

• A/N : When I tell you this is the ugliest thing I’ve ever written lmao. I’m so weak for soft!Jay at the moment and had just came on my period when i started this  a few weeks ago.. I have a few ongoing requests at the moment that I’m working on, promise I’m not ignoring them but I just don’t want to post them until I’m happy with them! 

Hope you enjoy!

You notice the bed beside you dip with Jay’s weight as he joins you, fresh from the shower as you feel the heat radiating from him. You attempt to shift and face him, craving the feeling of having your head against his chest with the rhythm of his heartbeat soothing you to sleep. You wince as a cramp hits your stomach, slinging your arm across your stomach as a natural reflex for when the wave of pain arises. 

Jay places a hand on the edge of your shoulder, gripping round your skin as he moves your hair to one side to place a delicate kiss to the exposed shoulder blade “Stay facing that way, I’ll be able to rub your stomach” he whispers into the nape of your neck and causing a shiver to run down your spine at the softness of his words. 

You happily do as you’re told, still in somewhat of a half consciousness as you doze in and out of sleep with the thought of knowing he was there beside you helping the pain drift away. 

“Life your hips for me baby” he softly demands, encouraging you to lift your side for just a few seconds to allow him to slip his arm under you to rest a hand on your stomach “You’re burning up” he tuts, removing the hot water bottle you had pressed against you and placing it on the the other side of the bed “Don’t want you getting too warm, you’ll make yourself ill”. 

His firm tone made your heart flutter, he always had your best interests at heart and made the smallest of actions seem natural to him. You’d happily let yourself curl up under a blanket with a hot water bottle until you were burning hot but it would always leave you feeling faint and you’d end up cooling off in a cold bath or shower which really defeated the object..

You laid in a comfortable silence with Jay, cursing under your breath as another wave of pain hit "Why am I a girl” you mocked, digging your head further into your pillow as some form of distraction. Jay would take it in his stride, dropping a kiss to your back and chuckling as you swear under your breath to take your mind off the intense cramps. 

The motion of Jay rubbing his hand softly over your stomach didn’t stop, you expected it to after a while but it never did. He was constantly tracing shapes across your skin, running his fingernails back and forth under your shirt and laughing as you occasionally flinched if it tickled. Whether it was a placebo affect or not, the cramps would ease under his touch and helped you get a brief moment of sleep. 

You awoke just under an hour later to an empty bed, turning over to see the covers thrown back and Jay’s side of the bed vacant made your heart sink. He was the one helping you through this and even though the painkillers had kicked in, you still missed him just being beside you.

You would often be the first one up in the mornings, heading to the gym before work or just wanting to be awake to make him a morning coffee meant you weren’t used to being in bed alone. He was always there with you, even when you teased him for how long the pair of you would spend in bed on your days off, you loved it and wouldn’t want it any other way. 

In replacement of Jay’s hand, you must’ve reached for the hot water bottle in your sleep and that was a mistake. You were now sweating, the clothes clinging to your skin as it glistens with sweat, feeling clamy and gross wasn’t what you needed right now.

Trudging over to the bathroom and catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror was an instant regret, you were hunched to try and relieve the cramps, hair disheveled and your body was covered in red blotches from the hot water bottle. If you didn’t feel horrendous before, you did now. 

You always worried in your relationship that you weren’t good enough for Jay, he woke up and looked perfect, would finish an intense workout and look like a sports model or even concentrating on some paperwork he would look flawless and here you were looking the complete opposite.

You let out a deep sigh, running your fingers through your hair in some attempt to regain a sense of decency but there was no point. Your feelings were being intensified from your period and leaving you feeling worse than ever, wanting to curl up in bed and cry was seeming most appealing but before you can enjoy a good ole pity cry you hear the keys turning in the lock.

Quickly wiping the tears from your face and using Jay’s tshirt that you were currently wearing to try and remove the stains from your cheek was useless, you panicked. Jay seemed to have unnatural ability to tell when you’re not feeling yourself, and this is no exception. Just from taking one look at you he’d be able to tell you were upset and you didn’t want that to be the case, you’d already had a pity day and the last thing he needed was to see you were feeling worse. 

You chugged some water that he had left on the side and took another glance at yourself in the mirror, the red blotches had made their way to your neck so were now much more visible and your normal cheery smile was no where to be seen. 

“Baby?” you hear Jay call out, rustling around with some bags in the kitchen before making his way over to the room you shared. You were sat on the edge of the bed with your arms folded across your stomach, leant forward in pain as you rested your head on your knees.

His heart pulled at the sight, you were in pain and there was nothing he could do about it. He prided himself on always doing whatever he could to help you in any given situation and not being able to take away the hurt was killing him. He’d helped you through many periods in the past but this was the worst one by far, you’d be able to take some paracetamol and carry on but this was defeating you.

You barely had a chance to respond before you heard the footsteps getting louder as he made his way towards you, letting out a deep sigh as he sees you scrunched over in pain. The noise of bags rustling comes to a stop as he crouches down in front of you, resting his hand on the back of your neck and the other on your knee to hold himself steady as he balances.

“What happened baby?” his smooth voice was music to your ears, he didn’t even have to do anything and he was already soothing you more than you ever could. You sniffed before bringing your attention onto him, watching as his eyes soften when he see’s the redness in your cheeks and the hurt in your gaze. 

“Nothing” you lie through your teeth, already knowing he won’t fall for it but thinking it was worth a shot. Instead of giving you the normal ‘are you forgetting how well I know you?’ speech, he simply tilted his head to the side and lifted his hand to rest on the side of your face with a doting look “We’ll talk about it later”.

You were grateful for how well he knew you, knowing not to push you and that you weren’t in the mood to be interviewed like a suspect. Normally you loved it, thinking it was cute how he always craved to prove how well he knew you and could tell you were off just by a simple look but in doing this he knew best to leave it until you were ready. 

“Did you have to go back to work?” you question, still absentmindidly leaning into Jay’s touch as he gently moves his thumb back and forth to caress your cheekbone. A simple shake of his head made you smile, you were secretly hoping you’d have him to yourself so when you awoke to the empty bed you just assumed he’d been called in. 

You couldn’t hide the frown that formed as he removed his hand and stood in front of you, reaching for something on the bed as you stayed hunched over below him. “I got your favourite ice cream” he comments, holding the tub out to you with a grin spreading on his face as your eyes light up “I thought they stopped selling it?” you questioned, already peeling off the plastic from the lid. 

“They did in our local, I asked around and drove to the only place they said still sells it” the pride in his voice was unlike anything you’d heard before as he carried on rummaging around the bag before pulling out 3 more tubs “Didn’t know how many you wanted so I stocked up” he chuckled, placing the tubs back into the bag and watching as you nibble round the edge of the container, too impatient to wait for a spoon.

“You don’t want these then?” you looked round to see him holding a family size bag of crisps, a handful of candy bars and even a box of your favourite instant hot chocolate that you used to have as a child. “How did you know” you probe, reaching for the box and examining the text.

Struggling to remember the last time you saw the packaging in a shop, let alone holding it in your hands. The box feeling so much smaller than it used to from when you were young, bounding to the cashier with 5 or 6 boxes to buy with your pocket money.

 “On our first date we passed a shop that sold them and I’ll never forget the look on your face. You told me how your mum would always make you one if you were having a bad day and they’d always make you feel better” he smiled and could feel the tears brimming in your eyes.

You and Jay had been together nearly 8 months and he still remembered the tinist detail from your first date, something you had even forgotten about. A little remark you made as you passed the shop on the way back to the car park, not thinking much of it as who would remember about a box of instant hot chocolate that probably didn’t even taste good? Jay did.

“Get into bed and I’ll get some bowls for these” he collects the items and puts them back into the bag, his tone still gentle despite the excitement you knew he had inside from presenting you with everything you needed without being asked.

You shook your head, standing to wrap your arms around his torso. Nestling your head into his chest as you feel it vibrate from a silent laugh “I told you to get into bed baby” you felt the shivers run down your spine as he rested his hand on the back of your head, allowing his hand to roam up and down your back in a soft motion. 

“What did I do to deserve you” you mumble into his chest, feeling him rest his head on top of yours as his hand settled on your lower back to push you further into him “So I did good?” you could practically hear the smirk on his lips, pulling back to examine the glowing grin peering back at you as his eyes glistened.

You reached to place a light kiss to his lips, a soft kiss that told him everything he needed to know “Are you gonna make me tell you to get into bed again?” he joked, tapping your back to retract yourself from him. Begrugingly you did so, already feeling the slight cold from the lack of contact you now craved from him. 

Picking the bags up from the bed to pull back the blanket, you felt the weight of something still in the bottom. You opened the carriers to see what must’ve been atleast 5 boxes of different sanitary products rolling around in the bags “What’s this?” you asked, confused as to why he went out of his way to buy you the snacks but you never would’ve expected him to know what products to buy you, or atleast try and guess as you always joked about how little men knew about the whole thing. 

“I didn’t know if you needed any” his voice was timid, reaching to rub the back of his neck with his hand which was a sign of nervousness you’d picked up on over the past few months . “Jay, how much do you think I bleed?” you were grateful to see the corners of his lips lift in a smile “Well, I realised I’ve never bought you any so I wanted to get a few so I had more of a chance of getting the right ones” he admitted, your hands falling to your sides as you allowed the bag to drop to the floor. 

Your feet were bounding over to him before you could even think, all you wanted to do was throw your arms around him as you had no words for everything he had done. “I can’t believe how much I love you” your voice slightly cracked as you felt the lump rise to your throat, as much as Jay loved to care for you, you never would've expected this. 

“I’m sorry I can’t take the pain away” you felt him plant a kiss to the top of your head, another one of his small guestures that made you week at the knees without him even knowing. “You’ve helped more than you’ll ever know” you smiled into him, cringing at your cheesy confession but knowing he loves to hear these things from you, adding to his ego of how well he looks after you. 

You both stood in a comfortable silence, basking in each other presence with the simplicity of the background noises coming from the streets below. From someone looking on, the way you were standing probably didn’t look very comfortable. The way you were entangled together, your arms hanging from his neck as his moved around your body to press his fingertips in the various parts he knew you were probably feeling pain. When Jay finally breaks the silence, he mutters the words that at the moment sounded better than ‘i love you’ when they fell from his lips “Do you want some ice cream, baby?” 

**

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[watchmegetobsessed]

Dead Or Alive - Harry Styles

a/n: oof okay hello! this is a little different, i guess? but im very excited to share this with you! don’t ask me how i got the idea for this, no clue but it was stuck in my head for days before i finally gave in and started writing it. please share your thoughts and comments on it, i would love to read them!! hope you’ll enjoy it!

pairing: Wanted!Harry x BountyHunter!Reader

warning: violence, talks of drugs, murder, guns, i really lost track of it lol

word count: 15.2k

masterlist

The man in the handcuffs growls in pain again, but you just yank him forward, not in the mood to deal with a whining girl trapped in a six feet tall disgusting looking, oily-faced bald man in his forties.

“Y/N! What do we got today?” Jeremy greets you at the front desk, thumbs hooked into his belt as he watches you tug the guy into the hall of the station, pushing him down to the nearest seat as you step to Jeremy who is already handing you the paperwork.

“Dennis Delgado. Took me a few days to find him, but he couldn’t hide forever,” you grin proudly as you grab a pen and start filling the papers out.

Jeremy walks over to Dennis who just looks up at the officer in disgust. It’s not enough that he is a child molester disgusting prick, he is racist on top of everything and now Jeremy is enjoying having the higher ground, Dennis trapped in his handcuffs while Jeremy will be the one to get him behind bars for a long time.

“Nice one. We’ll have a lot of fun with this one,” Jeremy chuckles. “Want me to ring up your brother?”

“Is he in? Would love to have a word with him,” you nod smiling. When you’re done with the papers you hand them over to Stella, the receptionist who gets to work with them right away so you can get your money.

“Sure, I’ll get him for you on my way,” Jeremy nods, grabbing Dennis by his arm, pulling him along on his way to the elevators. “Come on you scumbag, you have a cell waiting with your name on it.”

The two of them disappear and you get into a little chit-chat with Stella while she is finishing up the paperwork. Leaning against the counter you look around, officers come and go in the hall, all of them dressed in their uniform and for a moment you picture yourself wearing the same outfit. At one point in your life it seemed to be part of your future, but now it would be the most ridiculous sight. Y/N, the best bounty hunter in the region in a police uniform? That’s not happening.

The elevator dings and your brother, Robert walks out. He on the other hand, made this vision happen. He has been an officer for about ten years now and though at first he was outraged that you chose the not so gracious lifestyle of a bounty hunter, but you soon became his unofficial partner, handing him over a wanted person every few days, making his work easier. Everyone at the station knows that Robert is the one who plays by the rules, doing everything according to the handbook, the perfect officer, always working to keep up the peace in town while you are… Well, you are a rebel. You could never play by the rules, always sneaking ways to do things according to your desires. You never liked if someone wanted to tell you what to do and how to do it, you are not a team player or either one that can easily managed by higher forces. It didn’t take long for you to realize your nature will never let you be an officer so you chose the other path that’s somewhere near joining the police, but still playing by your own rules.

Being a female bounty hunter wasn’t the easiest when you started off at the young age of seventeen. In desperate need of the extra money after the tragic passing of both your parents, the two of you had to get along on Robert’s slim, beginner paycheck. He was only twenty-three, started working at the station just a year prior, you knew you had to help him out. He kept bringing up cases, worked on them through the nights and when he passed you on the couch from exhaustion, you sneaked your way into the dining room and looked for easy targets. Speeding tickets, light drug trafficking, whatever you could deal with as a high schooler.

Robert hated the idea of you dealing with wanted people, you had endless fights about it, but you were too stubborn to stop and besides, you liked the adrenaline rush you got whenever you caught another one and brought them back to the station. Loved the stunned and shocked looks on the older officers when you managed to catch a bigger fish. It took Robert a few years to come to peace with your choice of lifestyle and now he doesn’t even try to talk you down. Instead, he keeps bringing you cases that pay well and he knows you’d like them.

“Who did you catch this time?” he grins at you, walking up to you and he envelopes you in a short hug.

“Just got Dennis Delgado, Jeremy took him.”

“Poor Dennis, he’ll have a rough evening,” Robert chuckles. “Did you get your money?”

“Stella is already working on it,” you nod towards the lady behind you.

“Oh, I’ve got you, Sweetheart,” Stella pushes herself back from her desk and walks over to you with an envelope filled with your reward.

“Amazing, thank you, Stella,” you grin at her happily. Dennis was worth a little more than the usual, you are well covered for the rest of the month thanks to him.

“Do you have something coming next?” Robert asks, hands on his hips as he watches you put the money away into your backpack.

“Not yet. Got something exciting for me?”

“An old friend,” he nods with a small smile. He reaches behind the counter and grabs a flyer, handing it over to you, a familiar face staring back at you from the photo this time.

Harry Styles is a name you’ve heard plenty of times and you know him well by now. You actually went to high school with him, you were just never in the same group. He was labeled as troubled all through his teenage years, his parents were brutally killed when he was just a kid, he was tossed around from one foster family to the other, moving around town every few months. It was no surprised when he got into some darker circles, he almost got kicked out of school right before graduation but somehow managed to stick around to get his diploma at the end.

You have actually handed him in a few times before. Never for anything bigger than drug trafficking or robbing smaller shops downtown, Harry is actually not as bad as people tend to portray him to be, he was just not blessed with the best background as most people. He is a smart guy and would never hurt anyone for real, this is why you are now staring down at his flyer shocked.

He is wanted for the murder of a local man who was found dead a few days ago in his home, Harry’s hair was found near the body with no other evidence.

“Are you sure about this?” you ask Robert with a concerned look. This doesn’t feel right. Not that you know Harry that well, but it’s very unlike him.

“Very much. His hair was the only thing we found near the body of Dave RIchards so evidently, he is our number one suspect.”

“I don’t know, this doesn’t sound right,” you think to yourself, staring down at the mug shot of him that was taken the last time you brought him in for selling weed to underage kids. You remember it exactly, because bringing Harry in is always… fun, if you could say that.

That last time, he was already expecting you, waiting around in his usual motel room that is somewhat considered as his home.

“My Y/N! You arrived earlier than I expected!” he greeted you when you kicked his door in. He was sitting in the middle of the double bed, rolling a joint as always, not a care in the world about your arrival.

“You knew I was coming?” you cocked your head to the side walking in and stopping at the end of the bed, watching him finish the joint and simply light it before taking a big puff.

“Of course. I was informed I’m on your list again, just thought you’d give me a few more hours, but it’s alright.” He waved around carelessly before holding out the joint in your way, offering you to try it.

“No thanks, I don’t trust your sketchy stuff.”

“That hurt!” he gasped dramatically, placing a hand to his tattooed chest that was partially on display since his shirts are never buttoned all the way up.

You brought him in that day, stopping for McDonald’s on your way to the station before handing him over to Robert. He was actually a great guy, nice sense of humor and good looks, you never thought otherwise, he was just moving around in different circles than you so you were left with the few jokes he always cracked when you took him in every few months.

“Well, it’s not your job to question his innocence. Want to take the job or not?” Robert asks you.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll find him,” you nod and fold the flyer, sliding it into your back pocket.

Normally, you take the rest of the day for yourself after turning someone in, but this situation with Harry just bugs you way more than to just go home and pretend like it’s not all you can think about. Harry is not a murderer, he would never randomly kill a man, he is not a psycho, just a guy with a rough background and some poor life decisions.

You know the route to the motel like the back of your hand. Arriving to the dodgy parking lot you park your car in the far end before taking one last look at the flyer. Then you push it into your backpack and get out, heading to Harry’s room with firm steps. You see no lights on, the door is closed and you almost don’t even get closer, thinking he is not here when you see someone move around inside.

You are almost at the door when a hand covers your mouth and an arm wraps around your body, pulling you back forcefully. It takes you a moment to recover from the shock as you are yanked backwards, but as you are being dragged towards the alleyway next to the motel you elbow your attacker in the stomach before kicking them in the knees. The hands fall from around you and turning around you pull out your pocket knife, ready to cut throats right away, but you are shocked to see Harry hunched over, groaning in pain as he holds his arm to his stomach.

“The fuck, Y/N?!” he growls, his chocolate curls falling forward, they’ve definitely gotten longer since the last time you saw him, he could easily put them up into a bun now. “What was that for?” he whispers in disbelief, his green eyes meeting yours in a scowl.

“What the fuck do you mean? You attacked me!”

“I didn’t attack you, I was trying to fucking save you!”

“From what?!”

“From the fucking asshole in my room who is four times bigger than you and would have probably shot you the moment you kicked my door in like you always fucking do!”

It’s just now processing in you that if Harry is here, the person you saw in the room can’t be him and he surely looked bulky. Harry runs his hand through his hair, straightening up from his hunched position before he sighs tiredly. He looks… worn-out, even more than he usually does. The dark circles under his eyes and beat-up knuckles are new, he usually looks fine despite everything that goes on in his life, but this is a version of him you haven’t seen. He has definitely been through some shit lately.

“What are you doin—“

“No time for questions now, we have to get out of here,” he cuts you off, grabbing your hand and pulling you through the alleyway to another parking lot on the other side of the motel. You spot his old jeep right away, but you yank your hand out of his hold, stopping in your tracks.

“Wait, my car is there!”

“We’ll come back for that later, but they can’t find you here with me or they’ll be after you as well,” he explains, grabbing your hand again as he pulls you towards the car and this time you follow him blindly.

You get into his jeep without even questioning it, not even caring that he is a man who is currently wanted for murder. Your instinct is telling you that you’re completely fine with him and you believe it. The two of you head out of town, taking the route to the next town nearby, but he takes a turn to the left, the jeep rolling onto a dirty road leading along fields filled with wildflowers. You have a guess where you’re going, there are some abandoned cabins near the woods that used to function as vacation homes, but they were slowly left to stand empty for eternity when a luxury resort was built on the other side of the woods.

“Care to tell me what the fuck just happened?” you ask him calmly, turning to look at him. He has one hand on the wheel, while his other elbow is resting on the armrest, fingers tapping on his chapped, pink lips.

“I’m in… deep shit, Y/N,” he admits with a sigh, eyes glued to the road ahead of him.

“No shit, you killed someone?”

“I didn’t,” he states, his eyes meeting yours for a moment to emphasize his truth. “It was a fucking set up and now they are after me every way possible.”

“Who is? And what did you do to get into so much trouble?”

“I’ll tell you about it when we arrive, okay?”

You sit in silence for the rest of the ride until you finally arrive to the cabins. You follow Harry inside one of them and it seems like he has set his base up here a few days ago. There’s a double bed with blankets thrown over it and a few mismatched pillows, a sports bag with his clothes and a few grocery bags on the dusty kitchen counter, candles everywhere since there’s probably no power in the cabin. You wonder how long he has been camping out here.

“About a week ago I got a visit from Hugo McKain, you’ve heard about him?” he asks as he grabs a bottled water from one of the grocery bags and fills up two plastic cups, handing you one of them.

“Sure. I’ve heard that… he is a big fish,” you nod.

“Yeah. He wanted me to work for him, but I sincerely rejected the offer, however it didn’t sit well with him. He threatened me that if I’m not selling his stuff, then I won’t sell anyone else’s stuff,” he explains, walking over to the bed and he sits at the edge, staring at the cup in his hands. “He gave me another day to change my mind, but I said that I don’t want to get involved with any of the heavy shit he deals with. I was hoping he would just willing to forget about it, but apparently, he is not the kind to just let shit go,” he chuckles bitterly. “A few days ago he sent two of his men after me, but I was able to run away. I was ready to pack my shit up and just leave the state forever, but then the fucking asshole framed me for the murder of that guy. A friend called me to let me know that I’m the only suspect in the case and that my face has been sent out already everywhere in the state. Hugo made it impossible for me to leave, I would be caught the moment I stop to pump fucking gas in my car,” he growls in annoyance. “So it’s a whole shit show, the police and Hugo are after me and I’m fucking stuck here.”

You stand there at a complete loss of words, because though you have no evidence if he is telling you the truth, you just know he is and the situation is fucking miserable. Harry drinks his water and throws the cup into a plastic bag that serves as a trashcan, his fingers running through his hair nervously.

“Do you know who killed the guy?” you speak up after some silence.

“Yeah, one of his men called Axel, he is a proper idiot, I’m actually surprised he didn’t leave his DNA back, just mine,” Harry scoffs.

“If you know they are after you, what were you doing at the motel?” you ask, leaning against the wall, curiously eyeing him as he glances up at you.

“Knew you’d come after me, didn’t want them to pull you into this mess too.”

Your eyebrows rise at his words. He went back because of you? Harry notices your surprise, a smug smirk tugging on his lips.

“What? Couldn’t let them lay a finger on my Y/N, right?”

You can’t help but roll your eyes at him. He has always been so flirty with you since day one, always trying to pull your leg, chatting your ears off in hopes that he can finally drag you to bed one day. But you never give in, it all stays just some empty flirting and a playful banter.

“So what are you going to do now?” you ask clearing your throat. There’s just always been something in the way he calls you his Y/N that makes you a tad bit nervous.

“That’s an excellent question to which… I have no answer,” he truthfully admits.

“You can’t hide here forever.”

“You tryna’ lure me into going to the station with you?” he asks with a grin. “To be honest, I’m surprised you haven’t cuffed me yet. You love that stuff, don’t you?” Harry stands from the bed and strides over to you, the height difference between the two of you forcing you to tilt your head up a little as he smirks down at you, enjoying that he has successfully made you blush. “Question is, have you been the one in the cuffs?”

You part your lips with the intention of answering, but nothing comes out. Harry smirks down at you, so full of himself before stepping away.

“Anyway, I think I’m just gonna lay low here for a while and then hopefully I’ll be able to sneak out of town at one point.”

“You wanna stay here?” you ask looking around. The place is fine for just a few nomad days, but staying here for more seems impossible. There’s no electricity, probably no water, some of the windows are broken in, the temperature must drop drastically in the nights so close to the woods.

“Not that I have any other choices,” he huffs, opening a bag of chips from the groceries.

“Don’t you have any friends who can share their couch with you for a while?”

“You think anyone would want to hide a dude who is wanted for murder and who is also in trouble with Hugo McKain? Baby, even if any of my friends were willing to help, I wouldn’t take it. I wouldn’t want to pull them into my shit. Besides, Hugo is probably already keeping tabs of all my friends, he has the connections to know everything about me.”

“And what about me?” you suddenly ask. Harry freezes, eyes flickering at you in confusion.

“What about you?”

“Would he look for you at mine?”

Now it’s his turn to rock a stunned expression, eyebrows shooting up as he stares back at you. He wasn’t expecting it, but truth is neither did you. However it doesn’t take him long to turn it into something entirely sexual.

“You know, if you wanted to see me in your bed, you should have just asked.”

Luckily, you don’t fall under his spell this time. Rolling your eyes you put the cup to the nearest surface and head to the door.

“Alright, changed my mind. Have fun camping out here on your own,” you mumble, reaching for the doorknob, but he is quick to get between you and the door, stopping you from leaving.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I was just not expecting you to make that offer, alright?” You take a step back, folding your arms on your chest. “Were you serious about that?”

“It seemed like an option. I doubt you’d be expected to be at my place.”

“And you’d actually let me stay there?”

“I guess a few days wouldn’t hurt. Until you figure out what to do.”

Harry stares at you in awe, like you just did the best thing ever for him and the thought that he never had anyone to do such favor for him is kind of heartbreaking. He might be a pain in the ass sometimes, but there’s just something in him.

You help him pack his stuff back into the jeep, leaving the weathered cabin empty again before you head back to town. Harry drops you off a few blocks from the motel so you can walk back to your car, you glance at his door just once, it’s still closed but they could easily still be there.

Harry is already at your place when you arrive to your building, waiting around in his jeep, he has put a beanie and sunglasses on, keeping his head low. As he follows you up to your little apartment, you actually realize that Harry is about to move in with you for the upcoming days, he is going to live in your place, you’ll share your home with him. How crazy does that sound?

Unlocking the door you walk into your small apartment. It’s just the perfect size for one person, a decent kitchen with a small dining table, a living room that also functions as your study, your desk filled with folders and flyers from previous works. Then you have a little bedroom and a bathroom opening from the living room. It’s cozy and homey, but definitely not the setting you would have ever imagined Harry in.

“So, the couch is a pull out, I’ll get you a blanket and a pillow, make yourself… home I guess,” you tell him walking into your bedroom to get him everything he needs. However, he is following you into the room, already snooping around in your private little space.

As you grab him a blanket and pillow, you find him inspecting your clutters on top of your dresser, your jewelry, perfumes and makeup stuff is just thrown out there, and he seemingly takes an interest in your rings.

“Never seen you wear any jewelry,” he huffs as you walk up to him.

“Don’t like them on me that much,” you admit. “Here,” you give them the bedding and usher him out of the bedroom before he gets way too adventurous and starts digging into your lingerie drawers.

When the pullout is all set up and Harry has settled in a little, you are faced with the fact once again, that Harry is in your home and about to spend the upcoming days here with you, since he can’t really roam around the streets.

You make sandwiches for the two of you and sit at the small dining table, eating in silence until you speak up.

“I can ask my brother to help find the guy who did it. There has to be a way to get you out of this.”

Harry glances at you, chewing on his food before putting the sandwich down, swallowing the bite.

“Not really if they don’t find evidence.”

“I’m sure we’ll find something.”

“We?” he smirks at you playfully, earning a blush from you again. You hate the effect he has on you, he is clearly a good-looking guy, you always thought that, even in high school. Thanks to his troubled name, girls easily fall for his bad guy behavior, they just never really saw that being a so called bad guy wasn’t just about the looks, with a slightly similar background you could imagine how hard it really was for him. Though he never really let it show. He is always this whitty, cocky bastard who is ready to flirt his way into your pants whenever the opportunity is given.

“If you keep up with the teasing you’ll find yourself on the street one morning,” you warn him and he just holds his hands up with a smug grin.

“You are the boss lady here,” she chuckles softly before returning to his sandwich.

For the rest of the evening you bury yourself into some other work stuff, you always have a few smaller gigs going on that are easy money, Harry in the meanwhile makes himself comfortable on the couch, watching your tiny TV in silence, letting you do your thing. It’s nearing midnight when you wrap it up and head to have a quick shower. Standing under the hot water you take a few minutes to collect your thoughts and just simply try to get used to the thought that you are in fact hiding a man who is wanted for murder. It’s going to be some pretty interesting days you have ahead of you, that is for sure.

Putting on your oversized t-shirt and cotton shorts you leave a clean towel on the counter for Harry in case he doesn’t have one before heading out.

“Towel is on the counter. Sorry, I don’t have shower gel for men, but the soap is unscented so feel free to use,” you tell him walking out, only to find him already waiting around the door, leaning against the wall. His eyes fall down the length of your uncovered leg, a smirk tugging on his lips.

“If you’re the kind who sleeps naked, feel free to get rid of the textile.”

“Are you a naked sleeper?” you ask tilting your head to the side.

“I can be, if you want me to be,” he grins smugly and you just roll your eyes at him.

“Good night, Harry,” you sigh walking into your bedroom and shutting the door behind you, only allowing yourself to let out a shaky sigh when you are out of his sight. Leaning against the door you hear him shuffling around until the bathroom door closes and the water starts running. You try your best to ignore the thought of Harry currently in your shower naked as you climb to bed and pull the covers over your head. You need the coverage, hopefully it’ll help you with your wandering thoughts.

“Thought you’d deliver Styles by now,” Robert teases you when he meets you at the station the next day. You left Harry at your place, sincerely asking not to trash your home while you’re away and headed to the police station in hopes that your brother might be able to help him out.

“Uh, no. But actually, he is the reason why I’m here,” you tell him with a nervous chuckle.

“What? Did he hurt you or something?”

“No, nothing like that. Can we please talk in your office?” you ask and he nods, leading you up to his office.

Once the two of you are settled and secluded from the rest of the officers, you just decide to start right in the middle and not waste your time beating around the bush.

“Harry didn’t do it. He was framed.”

Robert gives you a surprised look as he leans back in his seat on the other side of his desk. He thinks about your words furrowing his eyebrows before scratching his neck.

“How… do you know that?”

“I just know. He is being framed by Hugo McKain, it was one of his men who killed the guy, not Harry.”

“I have a feeling that your source about this was none other than Harry himself.”

“Does it matter?”

“It does, because of course he would try to defend himself!”

“Harry is not a murderer, Robert,” you snap. “He always owns up to his mistakes and he would never do anything to hurt others. Yes, he is troubled and did a lot of illegal shit in his life, but never anything that could hurt others. He became a target because he didn’t want to join Hugo.”

Robert stares at you for a while, probably trying to figure out whether he should believe you or not. You knew he’d be skeptical, but you can only hope he trusts you enough to help you out in this one case.

“And what do you expect me to do?” he asks after a while.

“He knows the name of the guy. Axel something, can you get someone on his case? Look into the evidence more? Something might come up that could help Harry out of this mess.”

Robert’s jaw clenches as he stares back at you, contemplating his choices but something is telling you he is already in. You won him over.

“I’ll have Jake look into it, I think I know who this Axel guy is.”

“Thank you, Robert!” you cheer in excitement. Jumping from your seat you go around his desk and hug him from behind, kissing his cheek as he tries to escape your embrace. He hates it when you get all affectionate at his work, but you just had to. You head to the door to get out of his hair before he changes his mind, but he stops you before you could leave.

“Y/N, just please be careful with Styles, okay?”

“He is not as bad as people make him sound.”

“I just don’t want him to get you into trouble. There’s only so much I can do to save your ass.” “Don’t worry,” you smile at him softly. “I’ll be alright.”

The rest of the day goes by with catching some stupid guy who was wanted for trying to rob a gas station while drunk, it’s a mystery how he was able to run away, you saw the security footage, the guy was barely standing on his feet, but lucky for you, he is in the exact same state when you surprise him at a bar and bring him in.

It’s past seven when you finally get home. Keying yourself into the apartment you are met with a quite pleasant sight. Harry has pushed the pullout in to make some space in the cramped living room and as you step inside, you are met with the sight of him doing pushups in the middle of the room, no shirt on, just a pair of loose shorts, all his tattoos are on display, a thin layer of sweat covering his body, his curls are held back with a headband. When he hears you arrive, his head shoots up and smirks in your way before doing a few more and then he stops, standing up just as you shut the front door.

“Welcome home, Honey,” he winks in your way and you just roll your eyes at him.

“Turning my living room into your personal gym, huh?”

“I can’t just sit around all day, waiting for you to get home, can I?”

“You can always just fix up my apartment while I’m gone,” you joke chuckling. Setting your bag down on your bed you join him in the kitchen where he is sipping on some water. “Anyway, I have good news for you. My brother said he’ll have one of his guys look into the case. I’m sure he’ll check after this Axel dude you mentioned.”

“That’s great! I’ve also been asking around today, some of my friends said they will try to dig up some dirt that might help me out, but I don’t want any of them to get too deep and then have Hugo go after them too.”

“It’ll be fine,” you nod, convinced that things will turn out well. “Alright, I’ll throw something together for dinner, what—“

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I already ordered, should be here soon.”

“You ordered food?” you ask in surprise.

“Of course. I won’t just eat your fridge out, dinners are on me while I’m here,” he smiles genuinely and you’re stunned by the gesture.

Half an hour later the two of you are sitting on the living room floor, Chinese takeout boxes littering the place around you, having a full on feast because Harry didn’t go light on the order.

“So, tell me, what have you been doing since high school?” he prompts the question. “I feel like I know you but I also don’t. Don’t get me wrong, being handcuffed by you every other month is fucking hot, but I don’t know much about you.”

“There’s not much to know,” you shrug. “I’ve been doing this since I was seventeen, no grandiose career.”

“But did you have any other plans before?”

“Thought about joining the police, but I was never tame enough to follow their rules.”

“Ooh, a little rebel?” he teases you and you throw a handful of napkins in his way, making him laugh.

“You can joke about it, but I’ve had my fair share of trouble as well, you are not the only one who’s been through some rough years.”

“I know that,” he nods, eyes getting serious for a moment. “I’m sorry about your parents.”

“You know about them?” you ask in surprise. You didn’t really share it with anyone, talking about the loss of them just made it harder to deal with it and you also didn’t want everyone’s petty.

“You just know about this kind of stuff when you grow up in foster care. Though you were lucky your brother was already of age.”

“I know. I’m convinced I wouldn’t be here if I had to go into foster care.” Putting down the box from your hands you look at Harry. “I’m sorry you had to deal with all that.”

“Not that it was any of your fault,” he smiles softly, but you can see the pain in his green eyes. Despite not knowing him well growing up, you always felt this weird urge to tell him how sorry you were for everything he had to deal with. He deserved a better childhood and teenage years and most importantly, respect from people. Everyone just labeled him as a lost case because of his background, but no one really tried to help him. Part of you feels guilty, because you could have helped through those years, but you were a little frightened from him as well, believing the rumors and talks about him, though now you know they were probably just stupid gossips.

Harry reaches into your box, stealing a dumpling and you snap on his hand, but he just pops it into his mouth grinning slyly.

“Hey! You have your own!” you tell him off.

“I know, but yours just tastes better.”

“You are such a pest,” you roll your eyes at him as you grab your box and start eating again.

“So, what does your boyfriend think about me being here?” he asks out of nowhere, but you see through his act. It’s his sneaky way of trying to get you to say if you’re single or not, probably already knowing the answer to that, but you choose to pull his leg a little.

“He is fine. Though you might have to plug your ears in a little when he comes over,” you tell him with a straight face and see his fall, a stunned expression on his handsome face.

“Wait, really? You have a boyfriend and told him about me being here?”

“Sure, why wouldn’t I?”

It’s hard not to start laughing, especially when the words process and he realizes that you are in fact taken. The flirty, teasing act is long gone, he presses his lips together nodding to himself as he continues to eat in silence.

“I’m just fucking with you, I don’t have a boyfriend,” you tell him at last, finally letting out a laugh. His eyes snap up at you and a smirk slowly tugs at his lips as he points a finger at you.

“You had me for a hot minute. Nice one.”

“Why were you so surprised when I said I have a boyfriend?” you ask tilting your head to the side.

“Guess the thought was just a little weird, I’ve never seen you with a guy before.”

“That doesn’t mean I’ve never been with any,” you point out, furrowing your eyebrows.

“Oh, I know. I never thought you are pretending to be a nun,” he snorts.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you gasp, feeling like it was a subtle way to call you some sort of slut. Harry looks up at your upset expression and he immediately knows how his words were taken.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” he defends himself.

“Then how did you mean it?”

“I meant that I always thought a girl as pretty as you must have plenty of guys after her.”

Your eyebrows shoot up at how bluntly he just called you pretty. It had a refreshing sound after all the shameless flirting he has been doing when it came to you, and your poor little heart immediately skipped a beat upon hearing his words.

“Well, I didn’t have,” you admit with a sad smile. You briefly dated a guy from another school in tenth grade, but after that, your life was just way too complicated to get involved in a relationship and you haven’t really been able to change that even years later. When you’re very keen on some intimacy you go to a nearby bar and just let whatever man to pick you up and have for the night, but that doesn’t happen too often either, because it seems useless most of the time, you can do the job yourself just fine too, you don’t need some random man to call you his babygirl when he doesn’t even know your name. Some never even bother to finish you, they pass out once they got what they wanted so you prefer being on your own.

“Fucking losers!” Harry huffs dramatically. “They have no idea what’s good.”

“You don’t need to say that just to make me feel better,” you roll your eyes at him, but you can feel yourself blushing.

“I’m not, I was always crushing on you a little in high school, if I’m being honest,” he admits truthfully, managing to surprise you once again.

“For real?”

“Sure,” he nods, turning his focus back to his food as he continues to talk. “Even thought about asking you out to prom one time. But I figured you might not even know who I am.”

“Come on, everyone knew who you were!”

“Are you telling me off for being humble?” he asks grinning. “Okay, let me rephrase it. I didn’t know if you wanted anything to do with me after hearing stuff about me, so I just dodged the idea.”

You chew on his words a little before looking up at him, eyes meeting his green irises, though you are usually not one to get in on the flirting, now you just feel like being a little blunt.

“Well, I always thought you were good-looking.”

“Were? Am I not good-looking anymore?” he teases with a dramatic gasp that makes you roll your eyes.

“Well, the smugness takes a bit away from it, if I’m being honest,” you tell him off making him laugh.

Once you both are well fed you clean the boxes up together, you wash the few extra plates you used while Harry dries them off and puts them away. Opening one of the cabinets he moves the door a bit, examining how it hangs a little low.

“I always forget to fix it up,” you sigh. There’s quite a few things that could use some work, but you just never get to start on them so they are always put aside.

You take your turns in the bathroom as usual and you sit at your desk a little, working on a few stuff before calling it a night. Harry is already lying in his temporary bed on the pullout, scrolling through his phone. The covers hide only half of his body, his naked, tattooed chest is on display, one of his arms is tucked under his head, the muscles on his arm flexing just right. He surely is a sight, you can’t deny that.

“Seeing something you like?” His voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you realize you’ve been caught staring. Clearing your throat you stack up the papers on your desk and head into your bedroom.

“Good night, Harry,” you mumble, feeling your cheeks heating up.

“Sweet dreams, Y/N,” he calls after you before you click the door closed.

The next day you go with your usual routine, Robert checks in with you letting you know he already has someone on Harry’s case, so there’s not much you can do for now, only hope that something will surface that can help him out of this mess. Throughout the day you often catch yourself thinking about what Harry could be doing at home all day and you pray to all higher powers he is not currently snooping through your lingerie.

It’s a frustrating day, you couldn’t find the guy you’ve been after but you were really hoping to finally get the money for him. He is big money, but he makes you work for it certainly. When you arrive home Harry is nowhere to be seen, but then you hear the shower running so you figure he must have just been working out and is now taking a shower. Two pizza boxes are set on the dining table and you sigh in relief that you don’t have to think about cooking with him around. Going to the kitchen you are about to grab two plates when you notice that the cupboard door that’s been hanging low a little is now fixed. It’s as new as it never was since you’ve been living here and it gets you wondering if anything else has been taken care of. Going through the kitchen you start to realize that all the little things that’s been waiting to be fixed are now working perfectly: the handle on one of the drawers, the loose tap, the shelf that’s been crooked for a while, it’s all perfect now.

The bathroom door opens and Harry walks out wearing a pair of black sweatpants, his hair is wet and he has a towel hanging from around his neck.

“Oh, hey. Didn’t hear you arrive,” he breathes out throwing the towel to the back of one of the chairs around the dining table.

“Just arrived a few minutes ago. Hey, did you fix my kitchen?” you ask furrowing your eyebrows at him.

“Uh, yeah. Took a look at the stuff that seemed off. Also fixed the shoe rack near the door and the hangers in the bathroom.”

“Oh wow. You really shouldn’t have.”

“Didn’t you tell me to fix the place up while being here?” he teases you with a smirk as he leans against the table.

“That was just a joke.”

“I know,” he chuckles softly. “But I really didn’t have much to do today so I thought I might make myself useful.”

“That’s… actually very nice of you. Thank you.”

“No worries.”

“So how was your day?” Harry asks as the two of you are chewing on the pizza, sitting at the dining table.

“Why are you making small talk like we’re a married couple?” you scrunch your nose, taking another bite from your slice.

“What, I can’t be nice?”

“You can, it’s just you are usually not,” you point out.

“Or you are just never around when I decide to be nice,” he grins. “You usually just burst into my place, handcuff me and then bring me in. That doesn’t give much time to be nice.”

“I wouldn’t cuff you if you didn’t try to run away the first time I wanted to bring you in,” you retort shrugging.

“Okay, first of all, I was not expecting you to just kick my door in and have a fucking knife pointed at my throat, of course I tried to escape! And second, I quite enjoy being handcuffed by you, so I guess it’s not that bad.”

That smug smirk is back on his lips again and you wish you could just wipe it off sometimes. He is so full of himself!

“You are always coming with this cuffing thing. Get a hold of your kinks, Styles.”

“You can’t tell me it doesn’t turn you on. I bet you’d like that, if you haven’t already been cuffed in the bedroom,” he snorts, taking a big bite, the sauce dripping a bit from the corner of his mouth that he wipes with the back of his hand.

“My kinks are none of your concerns,” you sternly reply, but it just makes his grin wider.

“Oh, so you do have kinks! Tell me more about them!”

“Well what are yours?” you retort, hoping it would shut him up, but it has the opposite effect on him. Leaning back he swallows the food in his mouth before starting the list.

“Well I do love getting handcuffed, I’m into spanking, both ways. I have a weird thing for—“

“Alright! I’ve heard enough!” you cut him off. “Stop, just… stop,” you breathe out.

“What?” Harry chuckles, clearly enjoying the situation more than you’d want him to. “Don’t tell me you’re too prude to talk about sex.”

“I’m not,” you answer right away.

“Okay, then tell me about your kinks!” he teases you some more. Snapping your eyes at him you can tell how much he is enjoying making you so uncomfortable, but you also know that he thinks he’ll just make you blush and you won’t tell him a thing. So you decide to give him his own medicine.

“I do in fact like to be handcuffed, I love a good spanking, when my ass cheeks turn red from the slaps, that makes me cum very hard. I love a good old choking and I particularly enjoy giving blowjobs because I don’t have a gagging reflex, makes men go fucking nuts when I have them down my throat to the last inch, I get off their reaction easily.”

Harry’s lips part as he stares at you with a stunned expression, he definitely did not expect that answer, or any answer at all. That face alone makes up for the slight anxiety that took over you talking about what you really enjoy in the bedroom. Your eyes wander down and a triumphant smirk tugs on your lips.

“Don’t be such a horny teenager, I can see your dick getting hard,” you tell him before flipping the pizza box closed and walking into the kitchen you put the remaining of it into the fridge.

“You are such a tease, Y/N,” he shakes his head with a soft chuckle. “But it might backfire, because now I’m gonna get off thinking about spanking you,” he grins at you, but you just shrug, heading to the bathroom.

“Do whatever you want, fantasizing is free,” you tell him before locking yourself in the bathroom.

You’d be lying if you said you don’t think about him in the shower. As your hands move down your body, your fingers wander between your legs, gently playing with your clit while thinking about Harry spanking you. Knowing that he is kind of into the same things as you makes your fantasies even more vivid, but you don’t let yourself get off. You wouldn’t want him to hear you moan under the shower, he would tease you about it forever.

When you’re all done you step out of the bathroom only to get startled by Harry who is standing right at the door, wearing only his boxer briefs.

“Shit!” you gasp, snapping your hand to your chest.

“You took awfully long in there, Y/N,” he smirks at you, but you just roll your eyes at him. “If you ever need help washing you back, don’t be shy to ask me to join.”

“Keep dreaming,” you mumble under your breath as you walk past him and make your way into your bedroom.

“I already do that!” he calls after you before you shut the door closed.

Throwing yourself to your bed you take a deep breath closing your eyes. If he keeps up this act, you have no idea how you’re gonna survive having him around any longer.

Two days go by in the same manner. You spend most of the day out doing your usual stuff, you actually manage to catch another guy who was a small reward, but it’s more than nothing. Harry usually has dinner ready and waiting for you by the time you get back home. During these two days he has fixed up basically everything that wasn’t working in your apartment, freeing you from doing it yourself for probably twice as long as he did.

You sit and eat together, Harry usually tries to get under your skin with some more flirting that you return with a cold shoulder, but then, when you’re lying in the comfort of your bed or standing under the hot water in the shower, you always find your thoughts wandering off to the man on the other side of the door.

Ashamed to admit, but you’ve gotten yourself off once thinking about him. You woke up in the middle of the night from a quite hot dream that, of course, featured a shirtless Harry and you just couldn’t stop yourself from bringing you some relief. For a little while your hands weren’t yours, you imagined that Harry’s big, calloused and ring clad fingers were moving against your body and you needed every drop of self-control not to moan his name out as you came. You blame it on him being so comfortable shirtless around your place, he has been really making himself feel home. Not that you’re complaining, he is a sight for the eyes certainly, but it’s also giving you a hard time.

Robert soon asks you to swing by the station to discuss some details about Harry’s case. You can tell he couldn’t dig up anything helpful, he would have already mentioned it through the phone, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have anything that can be useful in further investigation.

“So, I’ve caught wind of Axel Morris being involved in the death of the victim, but we haven’t been able to recover any evidence that would point towards him, unfortunately,” Robert explains as the two of you sit in his office. “Didn’t want to bring him in for questioning either because then Hugo would find out we are after him.”

“So what can be done now?”

“I’m… really not sure, Y/N. If Axel doesn’t magically confesses the murder on tape, I’m not sure I can do anything to help Styles.”

Chewing on your bottom lip you’re trying hard to think of what to do. This can’t end like this, there has to be a way out for Harry…

“Look. I know you’re trying to cook up something to help Styles, but I’m not sure I can give you much time.”

“What do you mean?” you ask with a puzzled look.

“I mean that…” He glances at the door and then leans closer, speaking more quietly. “If I had a guess where he could be found, I would say he is at your place as we are speaking. I can’t let a guy walk free who is wanted for murder, Y/N. I eventually have to bring him back.”

“Alright, alright. Just give me a few more days. I’ll figure it out,” you plead, running your hand through your hair. Robert sighs, shaking his head.

“You have three days. That marks ten days since the warrant has been out. If you don’t bring me evidence by then, I’m sending the guys to your place to get him.”

“Three days, alright. I’ll… figure it out. Thanks, Robert,” you nod, leaving his office in a rush.

You have three days to find evidence against Axel and free Harry, but how do you even start? You’re good at what you do, but this is kind of out of your field and you’re not sure you can deal with it.

Walking around town you try to come up with an idea, but end up doing what you always do when you’re stuck on a case. Thanks to your work you’ve built up quite a web of connections, you always know someone who knows someone who is exactly the person you need. So sitting at a diner, munching on a late lunch you start calling your connections to see if you can dig up anything that could help.

A few hours later the situation becomes brighter and you finally have a somewhat useful plan so you head home to let Harry in on what you’ve come up with.

He is seemingly surprised when you arrive home earlier than the usual, he is sitting at the dining table, a bowl of instant noodles in front of him as he is watching some video on his phone. Like usually, he is only wearing a pair of sweatpants, his tattooed abdomen on full display.

“Oh, hi! Something happened?” he asks, concern showing in his eyes as he watches you kick your shoes off and storm into your bedroom, going straight to your wardrobe to dig up one particular outfit. “Y/N?” you hear him call out for you, his voice coming from your door.

“Yes! I knew I still had it!” you cheer in triumph as you hold up the latex set that clearly leaves very little to the imagination. When Harry sees it, his eyes go wide and his imagination probably gets wild for a moment, because he clears his throat as he looks at you puzzled.

“What do you need that for?”

“It’s part of my plan that will get us evidence against Axel Morris.”

“I’m not really following, so please elaborate?”

“I talked to Robert, he said we need to get him to confess. Now, I made a few phone calls and found out that our friend, Axel is a regular at this strip club called Siren. I’ll pretend to be a dancer and wrap him around my fingers and get him to confess while recording. You said it yourself, he is a real dumbass, I’m sure I can make it work.”

Harry stares at you frozen for a long moment before he lets out a heartfelt chuckle and now you’re the one confused about what’s really going on.

“S’cute you think I’m letting you close to that man. Funny, that was a good joke. Alright, what do you want for dinner?” he asks, walking back to the dinner table, but you chase after him.

“It’s not a joke, Harry. Pretty much our only chance to get you out of this mess!”

“You are not going anywhere near that guy and that’s not up for debate.”

“Not that you can tell me what to do!” you scoff at him.

“Y/N, you have no idea what you’re talking about,” he shakes his head sitting back to the table, stirring his pasta around with the spoon.

“I certainly know, and this is pretty much your only chance to save your ass, Harry.”

“Not if it means you go near Axel, nah,” he shakes his head calmly, as if it wasn’t even an argument and he had the right to grant you permission.

“Well, I’m doing it and you can’t do anything about that. I’m going in tomorrow. I know one of the dancers, she is helping me set it all up,” you shrug, your attitude meeting his careless one, but he doesn’t like your answer, not even a bit.

“Y/N, you are not going there!” he snaps, standing up, the chair falling back from the sudden movement. “That psycho killed a man or did you forget about that?!”

“Okay, so what’s your plan to save your ass? Because there’s literally no other choice,” you retort giving him a frown as you march back to your room and Harry follows you.

“But it won’t be you dressing up as a stripper, seducing a fucking murderer to get him to confess!”

“So then what is it going to be?!” you snap at him facing him again. “Because Robert gave me three days to sort things out before he comes here and takes you in himself!”

“Then I’ll go to jail! No big deal!” he throws his hands into the air like it was just a minor inconvenience and not a case of murder that could put him behind bars forever.

“Are you fucking insane?” you laugh in disbelief. “You’re willing to lose the rest of your life for what? Nothing at all?!”

“It’s not nothing, Y/N. You are not getting yourself into this mess and it’s not up for debate.”

“You hold no control over me, Harry!” you scream at him at this point, fed up with his bullshit.

You find yourself pinned against the wall in a blink of the eye, Harry is pressed up against you, hands grabbing onto your forearms as he keeps you in place firmly, one of his thighs coming between your legs as his face is dangerously close to yours now. He knocks the air out of you for a moment and you stare back at him with parted lips for just a split second before your instincts kick in.

You easily knee him in the crotch, giving you just enough opportunity to grab one of his wrists and twist it behind his back, forcing him to get on the ground, growling in pain.

“Fuck! Y/N!” he groans, snapping his other hand against the hardwood floor. You give him another squeeze as a warning before letting him go and he falls to the ground for a moment before he pushes himself up to sit on his heels.

“You still think I can’t protect myself against a man?” you sneer at him walking over to the bed to grab the outfit that was tossed to the side in the hustle.

“Shit, I think you broke my dick!” he breathes out hunching over and you just smile to yourself as you hand the outfit up to the side of your wardrobe.

“Don’t be such a crybaby, you’re fine.”

“Don’t think so, might need a get-well kiss on it though,” he smirks through his painful expression and you roll your eyes at him. How is he still at it when you just kneeled him in his crotch? “Okay, your message came through very clear though, but I’m still not a fan of your plan,” he sighs finally standing up from the floor.

“It’s gonna be easy, I’ll get him a little drunk, offer him a private dance, make a move and get him to talk. If he really is that dumb like you said, I can easily get him to open up, just gotta make sure he is focusing on something else,” you explain gesturing towards the outfit on the hanger.

“You can’t wear that, Y/N.”

“This is what strippers wear, I don’t see what the problem is.”

“My problem is that it’s like… nonexistent. There’s no textile at all!” he rages, still eyeing the red latex set.

“Are you… jealous?” you ask, starting to get a feel of what’s really going on. Harry’s head snaps in your way and the look in his eyes answers your question even when he tries to hide his real reasons.

“Jealous of you becoming a stripper? I bet I can make more than you if I became one,” he scoffs smugly.

“Oh my god, you are so fucking jealous!” you laugh, enjoying this one in a million moment. “What’s next, you have feelings for me? Are you gonna confess your undying love?” you tease him.

“Okay, you had your laughs, that was enough. Excuse me if I’m looking out for you and I don’t want you to get hurt because of me.”

“Don’t get all smitten with me now. I’ve been doing just fine without you so far.”

“Yeah, how many people did you bring in for murder?” Harry questions and that leaves you without an answer. Not that you don’t know it, but because the number is exactly zero. You’ve been doing your job for quite a while and there’s been all kind of cases under your hands, but not murders. Though you are completely capable of defending yourself, you’re not sure you want to deal with monsters who took a human’s life. The only reason you took Harry’s case was because you had an inkling feeling from the very start that he did not do it.

“Just as I thought,” Harry scoffs. “Listen, if you really want to do this then I’m going with you. No way I’m gonna just sit around here and wait to see if you make it back home.”

“How do you plan on leaving the house? Someone might recognize you and then it’s game over.”

“I’ll just… disguise myself,” he shrugs. “Can’t be that hard.”

You never thought the day would come when you see Harry Styles wearing a fake mustache and a ridiculous wig, secured with a beanie to his head. The moment the two of you finish his disguise, you can’t hold your laughter back. He looks so damn ridiculous, you can barely breathe through your laughter as he checks himself out in the mirror.

“I look like a fucking pedophile,” he shakes his head chuckling as he pushes some fake hair out of his forehead. “Where the fuck did you find this wig?” he snaps at you in disbelief.

“Does it matter? You look so fucking bad!” you laugh hysterically and Harry just stands there, waiting for you to finally stop, but it seems like he is not bothered by your reaction. He probably finds it equally funny too.

It’s currently seven pm, you have to head to Siren soon to start your fake shift as a stripper and you haven’t been able to talk Harry down from following you, so there you are, getting ready to fool everyone around you. Harry with his awful disguise and you with your stripper outfit.

When you finally catch your breath you leave Harry in the living room to get ready as well. Following a heavy makeup with dark, smokey eyes, you also put on a wig, a short, red bob that’s part of the outfit. Then you squeeze yourself into the latex, the tiny top barely covering you, the skirt is not even a skirt, rather than just a belt. As an extra to the fit, you’ve put on a red corset, though it’s more so you can hide the voice recorder since the original outfit doesn’t give too many places to do that. You pair it all with fishnet tights and a pair of black, thigh-high boots. As you check yourself out in the mirror you don’t even recognize yourself. Y/N is officially gone, the girl in the boots is… Crystabel.

Opening the door you step out of your bedroom, Harry is standing in the middle of the living room, busy with his phone so at first he doesn’t even see you walk out.

“Ready to leave?” he asks, eyes still on the screen of his phone.

“I… guess?” you breathe out, feeling extremely self-conscious in this revealing set.

When Harry finally looks up his mouth drops open. He is not even trying to hide his hunger as his eyes rake down the length of your body. He takes his time to take in every inch of your exposed skin before his gaze settles on your eyes behind your long fake lashes.

“Holy shit,” he breathes out and it gives you quite the confidence boost.

“You like it?” you ask, striking a pose as you push your hips to the side and place your hands on your waist.

“I-I’m… I’m fucking speechless,” he chuckles as you walk closer and grabbing the strings of his hoodie, you tug on the playfully while he is still shamelessly checking you out. “I don’t know how I could live this long without seeing you like this.”

“You are such a flirt,” you roll your eyes, but just as you are about to step away from him he grabs you by your waist and pulls you against him firmly. Your hands move to his broad shoulders right away, trying to keep your balance in his hold.

“I might be a flirt, but you are the hottest woman I’ve seen and I admit I will be fucking jealous of every man that’s gonna lay their eyes on you tonight.” His voice is low, full of lust and if it wasn’t for his funny disguise, you would have melted right into his arms in a heartbeat.

“I can’t take you seriously with this mustache on,” you chuckle softly, running your fingers over the fake facial hair, the pad of your fingers slightly touching his soft lips underneath.

“Just wait until we get back home and I get rid of it,” he smirks and winks at you, making you chuckle, but you can also feel yourself blushing at his words.

You put on a trench coat to cover the racy outfit as the two of you make your way to the club. Harry is driving, but you took your car in case someone might recognize him near the club. Arriving Harry parks at a darker corner in the parking lot and he pulls out a little box from his backpack.

“Alright, let’s wire you up, Love,” he smirks as you undo the coat and let him help you get the devices situated on you.

The voice recorder gets pushed into your stomach, hiding behind your corset. It’s thick enough that it doesn’t give away that anything is hidden under it, it’s just a little uncomfortable for you, but you are sucking it up.

“Here, put this into your ears,” Harry hands you an earpiece that you place into your right ear, hiding it with your wig. “It’s not the best quality, but you’ll be able to hear me and I’ll hear everything around you. We need a safe word if anything happens so I know I have to go inside.”

“This is starting to look like a spy movie or something,” you mumble under your breath as you start buttoning your coat again.

“Don’t turn it into a joke, Y/N. Axel might be a stupid jerk, but don’t forget he killed that man. He doesn’t care if you’re a woman or not, or if you’re a real stripper or not.”

“Alright, alright,” you sigh nodding. “How about… cherry?”

“Okay. Use it if you are in trouble or someone is hurting you or anything.” You nod, fidgeting with the end of the coat, but Harry grabs your hand and makes you look at him. “I mean it, Y/N. I don’t want you to play the hero.”

“I won’t, calm down. I gotta go now. I’ll see you soon,” you tell him before getting out of the car and heading to the backdoor. Glancing back one last time you see Harry standing at the hood of the car, watching you intently as you disappear from his sight.

Sienna, who is helping you tonight is already waiting for you at the backdoor. You met her a few years ago when you caught her abusive ex and took him in. She said she owed you one for freeing her from that asshole and now you are finally here to collect that favor.

“Damn, you look good!” she grins, pulling you into a short hug.

“You think it’s gonna be alright?” you ask, pulling the coat open to show her the whole outfit.

“Fucking fantastic. No men will be able to focus on anything than your boobs,” she snorts, pulling you inside.

The plan is easy. You won’t be out all night, Sienna will be your eyes and when she spots Axel arrive, that’s when you come into the picture. Sienna will escort him to a secluded area and tell him he has a free lap dance which will be, of course, performed by you. Some flirting, some seducing and hopefully Axel will be dumb enough to let a some sort of confession slip.

Sienna takes you to the changing room and you stay in the corner, trying not to be in the way as you watch the girls get ready. There are ten girls in total, five of them are dancing tonight, the other five are servers, but they still dress like dancers. They all wear equally revealing outfits, just like you and as you watch them move around so confidently, you start to get more and more nervous. What if Axel figures out you’re not a real dancer right away? Or if he notices the recorder pushed into your stomach? This plan is definitely not the safest you’ve ever come up with, and you are starting to doubt yourself now that you are so deep in it.

“Y/N?” you hear Harry’s faint voice in your ear. “Do you hear me?”

“Yes,” you breathe out and hearing his voice calms your nerves a little.

“Everything alright?” First you nod, but then you realize he can’t see you.

“Yes.”

“Okay. Are you nervous?”

“Very,” you admit with an awkward chuckle. Luckily, Harry doesn’t bring his usual cockiness out, feeling how serious the situation is.

“You can still come out and we can just go home. You don’t have to do this.”

“No, I want to do this,” you firmly answer. “Just… talk to me a little. Please.”

“Alright, I’ll tell you about when I wanted to ask you out to prom,” you hear him start and you can’t push a smile down as you sit and wait, listening to his soothing voice. “You were wearing this pretty white sweater that day and tight jeans, you looked so fucking good, Y/N. I saw you walking to your locker and you smiled at some random guy and I was instantly jealous.”

“Really?” you ask quietly.

“O, yeah,” he chuckles. “I told you, I had a crush on you. So I thought about asking you out, wanted to just walk up to you and casually ask if you wanted to go with me. But then I just watched you and realized that you probably wouldn’t want anything to do with me, so I just watched you get your books out of your locker and then you walked right past me, looked me in the eyes and I straight up felt my knees turn into jelly. Good thing I was leaning against the wall. You walked away and I never asked you out. Still regret that,” he admits and your heart flutters at his words.

As weird as it sounds, you remember that day. Especially because when your eyes met Harry’s you felt kind of the same. You felt intimidated and wondered why he was watching you so intently, but you would have never guessed he wanted to ask you out.

You see Sienna walking in, her eyes find you and you immediately know it’s show time.

“Harry?” you breathe out at last.

“Yeah?”

“I would have said yes,” you tell him before you follow Sienna out and the blasting music pushes down Harry’s voice in your earpiece.

The bright lights of the back are switched to the dim, red lighting in the main bar area, a dancer is already on the stage and the place seems packed for the night as all men are hungrily watching the girl on the stage, throwing dollar bills at her shamelessly.

Sienna pulls you to the bar and leans closer to your ear so you can hear what she is saying.

“He is in one of the private rooms, told him the dance is on the house to thank him for being a regular. I asked one of the guards to stand nearby.”

“Thank you, S,” you nod at her as she squeezes your hands.

“Good luck, girl,” she smiles a little bitterly before she shows you the way to the room where Axel is currently waiting for his private dance.

As you stop at the door you take a deep breath, staring at the doorknob for a moment, trying to brace yourself for whatever is about to happen in there.

“I’m going in,” you say, partially to yourself, but mostly to Harry so he knows what’s happening though you don’t hear an answer before you open the door and step inside.

The room is mostly what you were expecting, a small stage with a rod in the middle, across that a long, plush, deep burgundy couch. The walls are black, just the red led lights illuminating the place.

And there he is. Axel Morris is sitting in the middle of the couch, manspreading so widely like the asshole that he is, arms leisurely draped across the back of the couch as his hungry eyes immediately snap to your body.

Axel is big. He is a large man and you realize that the moment you see him. Though he is sitting you can easily tell that he’s tall and he is definitely bulky. Could end you in a blink of an eye and knowing that he is capable of murder is just an eerie thought that doesn’t leave you alone. But you suck it up and get into character, only thinking about one thing: help Harry out of this mess.

Music with low bass starts playing through the speakers as you make your way over to Axel who grins at you disgustingly, making it hard for you to keep the façade.

“Hey big boy, heard you’ve earned a dance for yourself,” you coo at him stopping at the edge of the stage as you keep eye-contact with him. You lean against the edge and spread your legs just enough to tease his imagination about what’s about to come.

“Hell yes, I did! Hope you’re a good dancer, babygirl. Haven’t seen you around here.”

“I’m new. But I’m really good, that’s why they sent me,” you smirk at him sweetly as you walk closer until you’re standing in front of him. He reaches out and grabbing your hips he pulls you to straddle his lap and it catches you by surprise but you don’t fall out of character.

“Then show me what you can do. What’s your name?” He licks his lips as you start moving, doing your best from movies you’ve seen with strippers in them.

“Crystabel, but you can call me yours,” you hum, grinding and bouncing yourself, completely unleashing your inner hoe. “Tell me, big boy. Are you as dangerous as you seem?”

“Oh baby, you have no idea,” he grins proudly.

“Really?” you coo, pushing yourself up against him. His dirty hands find your ass and you want to push them away so badly, but you let him have his way with you for the sake of the plan. “What’s the worst you’ve done?”

“Why does a pretty girl like you want to know about that, huh?” he cocks his head to the side, eyeing you with suspicion so you know you have to be careful.

“Because I have a thing for those stuff. I love pain and blood, it gets me off always,” you smirk at him teasingly, grinding yourself against him to divert his attention a little from the words spoken.

“Mm, yeah?”

“Yeah, I love that kind of stuff,” you moan, running your hands down your chest, his eyes hungrily following your every move and you know he is zoned out. It’s going perfectly.

“Well, I’m the perfect man for you then, babygirl. I’ve done all the things you can imagine.”

“Really? You are turning me on, big boy,” you murmur lowly, turning around for a bit so he can get a good glimpse of your backside as well. “Have you… taken anyone’s life before?” you bluntly ask, hoping you aren’t moving too fast and he won’t snap at you.

“Not sure I should be talking about that with you, pretty girl,” he smirks smugly. You turn back to face him, pushing your crotch against him as you try not to gag feeling his erection under you.

“I’m good with secrets, Honey. My lips are sealed,” you grin at him, stroking his oily face and try your best not to wipe your fingers into the cushion of the couch. Axel smirks at you, clearly enjoying the show you are putting on, his fingers are digging into your thighs as his eyes are practically glued to your chest.

“I’m a killer, babygirl.”

“Yeah?” you gasp, faking your excitement. “What did you do, big boy? Tell me, make me wet,” you purr biting into your bottom lip, pushing your chest out some more to distract him from his consciousness that might keep him from answering.

“Killed a guy recently,” he smugly admits and your adrenaline is high in the sky. You are so close to what you need!

“Oh my, sounds like a dirty job.”

“It was.”

“Saw it on the news a guy got killed not long ago, did you do that?” you smirk at him, his hand slapping your ass and you fight yourself not to punch him in the face.

“That Richards guy? Yeah,” he nods and you almost start screaming in your triumph. This dumbass really did just confess to you, because you had your ass and tits out for him!

“Cool. What’s your name, big guy? Wanna know who I’ll think of when I touch myself later,” you pant into his ear, you need him to say his name otherwise the confession might go to shit.

“I’m Axel, babygirl,” he grins, leaning dangerously close to you, he clearly wants to push his tongue down your throat but you push yourself away and up from his lap.

“Our time is up, big boy. See you later!” you sing and walk out of the room while he is still kind of zoned out.

The moment you are out, you start running. You can’t have him realize what just happened and stop you. Pushing your way back to the dressing room you grab all your stuff and spring out of the building. Harry is standing at the entrance, his ridiculous disguise is gone as he spots you with wide eyes. He probably heard everything and wanted to be there for you when you get out and as soon as you reach him he grabs your hand and the two of you run to the car. Right when you get into the car, you spot Axel running out from the front entrance and he definitely realized what just happened.

“Hey! Get back here you slut!” he shouts as Harry starts the car and you melt into the seat, scared of what’s about to happen because you see Axel reach to his back and the next thing you know is that he has a gun in his hand.

“Harry! Go!” you scream when you see him aim at the car and right at that moment, the wheels screech as Harry pushes the gas pedal to the fullest and the car yanks forward.

Your heart drops to the floor when a bullet shoots into the side of the car as Axel tries to stop the two of you. Harry takes a sharp turn and leaves the car park with full speed. You see Axel from the mirror, he is raging and keeps shooting after you, but he has no aim or whatsoever. You reach the end of the street and you feel like you can finally breathe again.

“Oh shit, fuck,” you mumble, chest heaving as you grab onto the armrest for some kind of leverage, your adrenaline is still pumping through your veins from the action movie-like scene that just happened.

“Are you alright? Did he hurt you?” Harry asks, eyes dancing between the road ahead of him and you as he tries to figure out if anything happened to you.

“I-I’m fine, he was just… fucking nasty to deal with you,” you groan at the thought of his hands on you. You’ll need the hottest shower after this, that’s for sure. “Go to the station, we gotta bring the tape in now,” you tell him as you reach into your corset. Pulling the recorder out you huff in relief, it’s been pressed into you for way too long. The tape is still rolling so you end it and then rewind it, checking if everything you need is on it. Luckily, it caught the whole thing perfectly, that means Harry is not going to jail. Well, not this time at least.

He is speeding down the streets as you get rid of the wig and put on your coat, you don’t want to walk into the police station dressed like a hooker and have the word spread that Robert’s sister has been making money some other way lately.

Arriving to the station you hold the recorder so tightly as if your life depends on it while Harry reaches for your other hand and firmly holds it in his warm palm. You walk inside and immediately spot Jeremy at the front desk. Letting go of Harry’s hand you run up to him.

“Jer, I got evidence for the Richards case! I got a confession on tape,” you beam at him holding the recorder up. He gives you a stunned look as he takes the recorder.

“Confession? How do you—“ He is cut off when you hear Harry’s voice from behind you.

“Hey! What the fuck!” he snaps and as you turn around you see that two officers are already on him, trying to handcuff him. Jeremy quickly forgets about the recorder as he joins in on strangling Harry. but you grab his arm and try to pull back.

“No! He didn’t do it! Listen to the tape!” you cry out, desperate to end this mess, but it feels like no one is listening to you.

“Harry Styles, you are under arrest for the murder of Dave Richards. You have the right…” One of the officers starts saying the usual speech as they drag Harry away while you are begging to Jeremy to listen to you.

“Jeremy! He didn’t fucking do it!” you scream, tears rolling down your face.

“What do you mean?” he asks giving you a puzzled look. It was Axel Morris! One of Hugo McKain’s men! They are trying to frame Harry!” you explain, while Harry is being taken away. “Harry, no!” you shout after them, but the officers don’t stop.

“Don’t worry, Y/N! I’ll be fine!” he calls after you before he disappears from your vision.

“Jeremy, please just listen to the fucking tape! I got his confession!”

“I’ll look into it, but I’m afraid Harry is spending the night here,” he sighs, looking down at the recorder before he walks away.

“Fuck, no!” you choke out.

When you finally stop crying you rush out of the building and call your brother, not even caring that it’s past midnight. He better answer your call or you are showing up at his house and start banging on his door until he opens it.

“What the fuck, Y/N?” he growls into the phone.

“Robert, they fucking took Harry in! I had the confession on tape, but they just wouldn’t listen, they arrested him!”

“Hey, slow down, what are you talking about?”

Taking a deep breath you tell him the whole story. The club, the dance, the confession and then how you came straight to the station but they arrested Harry without listening to you.

“Alright, you can’t do much now, Y/N. He is still a suspect but I’ll call Jeremy to look into the tape. If it’s found relevant Harry will be out in the morning okay?”

“Please come in early in the morning and make sure he is let out, please!” you cry out, feeling so helpless after everything that just happened.

“I will. Meet me at the station at six, okay? It’ll be alright. Go home, have some sleep and then we’ll make everything right in the morning.”

You do as Robert asked, go home, have a shower, wash the night off of your skin and lie in bed however you are not able to sleep, not even for a minute. You keep thinking about Harry and what might be happening to him now. They better get their shit together and let him out in the morning or you are losing your mind. You didn’t go through all this just to have him put behind bars anyway.

It’s not even six when you are already at the station, anxiously waiting for Robert to show up. You keep glancing up at the building, thinking about how Harry is somewhere in there and you can only hope he’ll be out with you shortly.

When Robert arrives he goes straight up to check out the situation with the tape and Harry. Waiting for him down in the hall is nerve-wrecking, you feel like time has stopped. When he finally appears again you jump to your feet running up to him with high hopes.

“The tape has been examined, it was classified as evidence. Jeremy has already put out an arrest warrant on Axel. Harry is no longer a suspect. He’ll be down once the paperwork is done.”

“Oh thank God!” you breathe out and throw yourself at him, hugging him tighter than ever.

“Look, but there is something I need to talk to you about,” he says with a serious look.

“Okay, what is it?”

“We might be able to get this Axel guy, but I’m pretty sure Hugo is already after the two of you. We have a whole team for him, working on catching him finally, but it might be smart if you just left town for a little.”

“Oh. Yeah, sounds logical,” you nod.

“Let me know if you need help with that. I can arrange something for you.”

“We’ll see. I have to talk to Harry first.”

“Harry, huh?” Robert smirks down at you knowingly and you feel yourself blushing. A lot has changed lately around you and Harry and you guess it’s quite evident for everyone else as well. “Just so you know, he asked about you during the night. Wanted to know if you are alright.”

“Yeah?” you breathe out with a small smile.

“Yes. Might have been wrong about him a little. Tell him I said hello, I need to get to work now,” he nods with a fond smile.

“Thank you, Robert!” you call after him as he waves in your way before disappearing in the elevator.

Waiting around in the hall you keep looking towards the hallway, hoping to see him appear finally, but the minutes are just dragging by way too slowly.

You’re impatiently sitting on one of the benches by the wall when you finally see him walking down the hallway, leisurely running his hand through his hair, a tired smile sitting on his lips when he sees you leap from your seat and launch at him, throwing yourself into his arms.

“Hey, hey! It’s all good, Love. Told you not to worry about me,” he chuckles, but holds you tight anyway, his arms wrapping around you as he lifts you off the ground, taking a few steps forward.

“Of course I fucking worry about you, idiot!” you mumble into his neck before leaning back you look at his pretty face.

“Yeah? Does this mean I had the right to worry about you last night?”

“You were?”

“Fuck yes,” he laughs. “You have no idea what it was like to sit outside and listen to everything that fucker told you. Wanted to punch him in the face so badly.”

“So heroic,” you grin at him, your face already inching closer to his, arms still wrapped around his neck.

“Only for my favorite stripper,” he winks at you, making you gasp.

“If you dare to bring it up again and call me a stripper, I swear to God I—“

You don’t get to finish your threat, because his hand snakes to the back of your neck and he pulls you into a hard kiss, his lips smashing against yours. Melting into the kiss you open your mouth for him without hesitation, his tongue meeting yours as he kisses you with so much vigor and passion, he makes you bend your back, leaning back as he holds you firmly in his strong arms. And suddenly, you feel like you’re seventeen again, making out with your high school crush in the school hallway, luckily, you are kissing the same person you wanted then.

“I’m fucking starving, babe,” he breathes out once you finally pull away from each other. “For you as well, but can we get some real food?” he asks as he laces his fingers together with yours, heading out of the station.

“Sure,” you chuckle. “Hey, there’s something we need to talk about.”

“Love, told you, you can handcuff me to the bedframe, I’m into that stuff.”

“Shut up!” you laugh smacking his chest as the two of you walk out to your car. “It’s not about that,” you murmur with a soft blush. “Robert said we should leave for a while, Hugo might be after us after what happened last night.”

“Yeah, thought about that myself too,” he nods as he gets behind the wheel without even asking if you want him to drive or not.

“So what should we do?” you question, sitting in the comfort of your car. Harry reaches for your hand and brings it up to his mouth, kissing your knuckles softly before he smirks at you.

“Have you been to Ireland, Love?”

“No,” you breathe out, a little stunned by the question.

“I have a friend over there, I’m sure he would love to have us there for a while. What do you say?”

“Are you for real? You want to go to Ireland with me?”

“Yeah, would be fun, don’t you think?”

“Okay,” you smile in awe. Even after that kiss you had doubts he would want to run away with you for the time being. But he is definitely planning to have you around longer. “Yeah, Ireland sounds fun.”

“Great. Then let’s head home to pack,” he smirks, starting the car. “Oh, Love?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t forget to bring your handcuffs,” he grins and you just laugh at his smugness before leaning closer to kiss him quickly before the two of you finally drive away from the station.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

[gojo-x-reader]

Not So Special Now

Relationship(s): F!Reader x Gojo Satoru

Warnings: canon-typical violence

Tags: fluff (at the end), reader-focused

AO3 Link: here

Words: ~4k

Request: “hello there, i love ur soulmate and marriage life hc 🥺 can you make scenario/hc/drabble whatever u prefer where his fem/gn so is also a sorcerer and gets hurt/injured on a mission? thank you!”

“Are you sure you’ll be fine?” Your boyfriend, Satoru, asked you. His hands were on your biceps, giving it a worried, yet comforting squeeze.

“Yes, Satoru,” you answered, a little annoyed at how he was treating you. It’s been several years since either of you were in high school; this wasn’t your first mission.

“I can’t help but worry, you know. It’s your first ever special grade assignment.”

“Just because I’m not the same rank as you, Mr. Special Grade, doesn’t mean I’m weak. Besides, there are two others going so I’m not doing this alone.”

“I know, I know.” Satoru pressed his lips gently onto your forehead, then gazed into your eyes lovingly. In a rare instance while on the job, his blindfold was replaced with dark sunglasses. You reached up to shift them down, allowing you to gaze into his bright blue eyes. They were breathtaking no matter how many times you saw them. You moved your hands from his glasses to his shoulders, forcing him down so you could reach up to leave a chaste kiss on his lips.

“I’ll see you tonight,” you promised.

The two of you embraced one more time before you joined your other group members for the mission. You turned back and waved at him as the three of you entered the car to be driven to the location for your mission.

“Sure wish Gojo-san was coming with us,” one of them mused. “He could handle this mission single-handedly and we could just stay home.” He sighed deeply, then put in headphones and stared out the window.

“Why isn’t he taking this mission?” your other group member asked. She stared at you, eager to know.

You had just met these two today (not even knowing their names, except that they were both Grade 1 sorcerers like you) and you weren’t sure how well this mission would go. “Well,” you began, “for one, he works best alone. Second, Satoru fights best when he’s away from civilians.” 

The girl hummed, then crossed her arms in thought. The three of you awkwardly rode in silence for about five minutes, before the girl grabbed your arm suddenly. “Soooo, how long have you been dating Gojo Satoru?” She asked eagerly. There was something about her that seemed familiar, but you just couldn’t put your finger on it.

You weren’t sure why this was any business of someone you just met, but you decided to indulge her to hopefully make this awkward car ride, well, less awkward.

“Two years, almost three,” you answered. The two of you had known each other since high school, but it wasn’t until almost four years ago that you had reconnected after you moved back to Tokyo, and almost three years ago when you started dating. To this day you still had no clue why he would get a crush on you over all people. There were much prettier girls he had spent more time with, why you?

“Annnnd? A ring soon?” She gushed, gripping your arm harder.

You shrugged. Satoru and you had discussed marriage at some point, but both of you were busy at the moment, especially with Ryomen Sukuna being somewhat revived into the world. While Yuuji was still technically “dead” to others, Satoru had trusted you enough to tell you about how his student had pretty much been revived from the dead. On your days off, you often visited your boyfriend and helped out with Yuuji’s training regime. He was a nice kid, despite his circumstances and being thrown into the jujutsu world suddenly.

The girl let go of your arm and got out her phone, furiously typing to someone. “Oh, my little sister won’t be happy to hear about this.”

“Little sister?”

“Yeah, my sister Momo goes to Kyoto. She’s pretty close with another girl, Kasumi, who I consider almost like another younger sister. She was super excited to meet Gojo-san a week ago. She’s like a superfan of him or something. I like to indulge her sometimes. I think she even made a fan club for Gojo-san or something. Anyways, Momo, even though she’s friends with Kasumi, she often gets annoyed with her talk about Gojo-san.”

You vaguely remember Satoru mentioning a girl from Kyoto that asked him for a picture. It wasn’t exactly a rare occurrence for your boyfriend to be asked to take pictures with, from the jujutsu world or from civilians; he had devastatingly good looks, so you couldn’t blame any of the people who asked for pictures. Besides, you knew his heart belonged to you and you only, so you were fine with others recognizing his allure.

“Oh, Kasumi’s calling me,” the girl said. She answered her phone, only for a younger voice to scream over the speaker. It was loud enough that you could hear it. Your teammate held her phone away from her ear.

“What do you mean he has a girlfriend?”

“Oh, come on Kasumi. You know how handsome he is. Besides, he’s like, what, twenty-eight? Twenty-nine?”

“Twenty-eight, twenty-nine in December,” you confirmed.

“Way too old for you, ma’am,” the girl relayed to Kasumi.

“I don’t like him like that , Sumi-san! I j-just really admire him, okay! W-Who wouldn’t? World’s strongest jujutsu sorcerer in all.”

“Mhm. Anyway, I’ve got a mission today with the said girlfriend of Gojo Satoru. Want me to get you an autograph?” Sumi joked.

“...Could you?”

You let out a tiny laugh. This girl was funny, so you decided to humor her and leaned toward the phone. “One autograph for Kasumi?”

“M-Miwa Kasumi!” the voice on the phone squeaked out. She told you what kanji made up her name as you rummaged for a scrap piece of paper and pen from your bag. You made out the autograph, laughing a bit as you handed it to Sumi.

After you told her you signed an autograph for her, Kasumi said goodbye, hanging up the phone before Sumi could reply goodbye back. She seemed embarrassed about the ordeal.

“You were right, she seems like a good kid.”

“Kasumi is nice. She really balances out how serious my little sister Momo is,” Sumi responded.

For the rest of the car ride, you and Sumi chatted. Apparently, this was also her first Special Grade mission, as well as her first mission after graduating from Kyoto. Their other group member was also from Kyoto; he was two years Sumi’s senior. His name was Takahashi Daisuke. She didn’t know much about him since he tended to keep to himself. But she did know this wasn’t his first Special Grade mission. That relieved you substantially since you were nervous about this mission (as much as you didn’t want to admit to Satoru).

Eventually, the roads transformed from paved to just dirt. The driver turned onto a road on a hill, then began briefing the three of you on your mission. This was a Special Grade, suspected to be awakened by a Sukuna finger. This was just based on speculation, since the last Special Grade to pop up was from a Sukuna finger as well. The Special Grade had taken over an abandoned shrine, supposedly terrorizing the local village just down the hill (which had been evacuated just hours before). As the driver parked the car, the three of you exited the car. The air was crisp, with a distinct chill in the air. You could sense a particularly strong cursed energy in the premises, on par with Satoru’s cursed energy. You shuddered; this was not going to be an easy task.

The driver placed a curtain around the area, the sky darkening. It only made the situation seem even more grave. There was something in your gut telling you to run, not from being scared of the Special Grade, but because something bad was going to happen.

Sumi grabbed a wand from her belt. Her family was a pretty small sorcerer family on her mother’s side, as she had told you in the car. She and her sister have cursed techniques similar to “witches”; hers involved spells while her sister’s involved levitating a broom, among other objects.

Your cursed techniques, however, involved nature. There was a reason why you were selected specifically for this mission; the shrine was in the middle of the forest, the perfect place for you to go wild. Cities like Tokyo were incredibly constraining for you to use your cursed techniques, so you almost exclusively were assigned missions out in the country where nature was plentiful.

Neither you nor Sumi knew what Daisuke’s cursed technique was, but you assumed it was pretty strong considering he had been on missions with Special Grades before.

The mission started off fine. The three of you approached the shrine. It wasn’t particularly impressive, nothing that you would expect to house a Special Grade curse. The stone torii at the entrance was standing tall, unbothered by neither age nor the moss and vines growing on it. The shrine itself, however, was crumbling. One of the pillars holding up the roof was destroyed, so the roof was lopsided. The shimenawa knots were cut in half, the ends completely frayed. Definitely not a good sign.

After crossing the torii , you felt the Special Grade’s presence. It was overwhelming, unlike anything else you had experienced before. It possessed near-equal amounts of cursed energy as Satoru, but unlike your boyfriend, it held malicious intent within its cursed energy. To your left, Sumi was shaking. You held out a shaky hand onto her shoulder and squeezed. While you yourself didn’t feel confident about this mission now, you had a duty as the oldest member of the group here to be strong, for their sake.

The shrine began to shake, then the roof was suddenly blown off. You used your cursed technique to form a barrier of tree roots that erupted from the ground. Slabs of wood hit the roots, then bounced off. After the rain of wood subsided, you controlled the roots back into the ground in their original position.

You finally got a good look at the Special Grade curse. It was humanoid, but only in form. Its flesh was midnight blue, with eyes covering every centimeter of its body. Great, it had no blind spots. The curse had no apparent mouth, yet you were able to hear it let out an intimidating roar.

Daisuke made the first strike. He quickly pointed a handgun at the Special Grade and pulled the trigger. Out came a burst of his own cursed energy instead of a bullet. The blow just grazed the Special Grade enough for it to let out a screech of pain. Interesting, so this was his cursed energy. You wondered if it was limited to guns, or if he could apply it to a bow as well and use his cursed energy for arrows. You’d have to ask him later after this mission was completed.

It was apparent after Daisuke revealed his cursed technique that all of you were primarily distance fighters. There wasn’t much Sumi could do if her cursed technique focused on spells through her wand apparatus and Daisuke seemed to only have a gun on him. So, that meant you had to switch to a melee approach.

You weren’t the biggest fan of hand to hand combat. You weren’t very strong, preferring to assist from a distance. Recently, Satoru has been helping you learn new ways of fighting in close quarters. You decided to take the risk and make an attempt at using this still relatively new technique. You reached out your hands, summoning leaves from the trees. They surrounded your fists like boxing gloves, your cursed energy reinforcing the leaves to be almost as hard as the bark from the trees they came from.

You sprinted toward the Special Grade, preparing to land a blow. As you reared back for a punch, the Special Grade disappeared from in front of you. Then you felt a blow land on your back and you were sent through the forest until a particularly thick tree stopped your projectile body. Luckily, you reacted quickly enough to reinforce your front with cursed energy. If it wasn’t for your quick thinking, you probably would’ve been knocked out immediately.

You picked yourself up from the ground, but the world was spinning. You leaned against a tree to collect your thoughts and rest a bit. The Special Grade was insanely fast and had no blind spots. You were panicking; this was well out of your skillset. Perhaps Daisuke was right; Satoru should’ve joined in on this mission. But you knew that wasn’t possible, as he also had his own Special Grade mission to handle today.

You brought a hand up to your face and gave yourself a hard smack. This was no time to doubt yourself or panic. You had two comrades out there fighting a Special Grade curse alone. There was no doubt that the Special Grade would notice you if you tried to rejoin the fight, at least on the ground. Your best bet would be to get the high ground; there would be fewer eyes on the top half, so the chances of you being noticed would be less than if you arrived by foot.

Okay, you had an idea. Now, to get an idea of how the fight was going. You kneeled down to the ground and placed your hand onto the ground, closing your eyes. You sent a minimal, hardly detectable pulse of cursed energy toward the fight through the ground. From what nature informed you, the fight was mostly one-sided in favor of the Special Grade. Daisuke was pretty beat up, and Sumi wasn’t in good shape either.

You got up then hurriedly began climbing the nearest tree. As you climbed up, you manipulated the bark to form grooves for you to place your hands and feet on. As you reached a decent height, you created a bridge with the overlapping tree branches sturdy enough for your weight. You sprinted across the bridge, ignoring your double vision. You definitely had a concussion, but now was not the time for you to worry about that. You didn’t wanna lose your comrades on this mission. Not again.

You wiped the tears that were threatening to fall from your eyes. In your final year of Tokyo High, your two classmates were killed right before your eyes on a mission. You escaped out of pure luck, but was determined to get stronger to avenge their deaths. If you let those two die… well, then, that meant you hadn’t gotten strong enough to protect anyone else.

Once you were just out of sight range of the cursed spirit, you closed your eyes to sense the battle again. Sumi was sitting on the ground, back to a tree as she watched the fight between Daisuke and the Special Grade. She was barely conscious, and it seemed like she had lost a lot of blood. You had an idea, but in order for it to work, you needed her help.

Using thin vines, you sent a message within her sight: I am still alive. I’m going to trap the Special Grade curse with branches. Use a fire spell on it when it’s bound.

All you could hope was that she was able to read the message and had enough cursed energy to cast the spell. You began moving branches from distant trees close to the Special Grade, as fast as possible without your cursed energy being detected. Once they were close enough, you waited for the right moment.

As Daisuke finally landed a hit with his cursed energy, moving the curse to the center of the shrine remnants, you launched your attack. The branches extended as fast as you could make them move. The hit Daisuke landed had temporarily slowed the Special Grade, enough for your branches to immobilize it. As the branches gripped the curse, Sumi sent a fire spell toward it, just as planned.

The branches (and the cursed spirit) caught on fire. But something was wrong; normally, you could extract cursed energy from a curse with your cursed technique to exorcise, but that wasn’t happening. Was it resisting? You felt a tug on the branches.

Without thinking, you acted on your own. You re-equipped the leaves cursed technique, as you jumped from the trees above. As gravity brought you closer to the Special Grade, you reared back to prepare the punch you had wanted to introduce it to earlier. As your fist landed on the curse, you allowed the leaves to leave your fist, sending it into the curse’s body. The leaves caught on fire before they entered the curse, imploding it.

So, you managed to exorcise the Special grade. But, doing so took all of your cursed energy and you had no more left to cushion your fall. Luckily, you managed to adjust your fall so that you slid on your stomach parallel to the ground instead of falling headfirst. It still hurt, and you definitely broke a few ribs doing that.

You somehow had enough energy to turn yourself onto your back, looking up at the starry night sky as the curtain was released. Your first Special Grade mission. Everyone lived and you exorcised it without Satoru’s help. Ha. He would be so proud of you.

You began to fall into unconsciousness right as you felt familiar arms lift you up.

When you woke up, you were in Shoko’s infirmary. There was a thin blanket covering your bottom half. Suddenly the events came back to you.

You sat up, gasping for air. Where were Sumi and Daisuke?

“You might want to lay back down,” a familiar voice told you. “Shoko healed you, but the pain might still be there.”

You did as the voice said, laying back at the elevated position you woke up in. You look over and blinked a few times, seeing your boyfriend sitting in a chair next to your bed. He was in his work uniform, including his blindfold. You winced as you felt a pain in your chest; Satoru was right, there still was residual pain.

“I exorcised a Special Grade,” you croaked.

“I know. I’m proud of you.” He grabbed your hand and squeezed it, giving you a soft smile, showing off his tiny dimples. His smile quickly turned to a frown as he lectured, “However, what you did was risky and crazy.”

“Aren’t you the one who says that jujutsu sorcerers have to be crazy to survive?” you argued.

“Yes, but there’s a difference between crazy and throwing your life away.”

“You saw that?” you asked, much more awake than you were a few seconds ago.

“I hurried as fast as I could with my own mission to come assist you if you needed. I got there right as you pulled that stunt of yours.”

You pulled your hand from his and placed your face in both of your hands, embarrassed that he saw you launch yourself from several meters high, use up all of your cursed energy, then make a hard landing onto the ground.

“How’s the other two?” you asked, refusing to move your face from your hands.

“Alive and doing well. You’re the most beat-up out of everyone.”

You removed your hands, clasping them together in your lap. “Thank goodness…”

“There wasn’t a Sukuna finger either,” Satoru reported to you. “The villagers’ fear of the shrine must have caused it to grow to a Special Grade. Now, come on. Shoko said you could come home once you woke up.” Satoru stood up, then scooped you up from the bed. You screamed in protest, now wide awake.

“Wha--Put me down!”

“No can do, honey. Doctor’s orders. Nothing strenuous for the next week.”

“Satoru, I don’t think walking counts as strenuous!”

He smiled his signature shit-eating grin, then gave you a kiss on your forehead. No fair, he knew forehead kisses were your weakness. You melted into his arms at how tender his kiss was, now docile and less likely to argue with him.

In a flash, he teleported the two of you to his apartment, setting you on the bed in front of him. After placing you on the bed, he yanked off his blindfold and began rummaging through his dresser, looking for a set of his clothes for you to wear. He tossed the shirt and pants toward you, not even bothering to turn around while you changed. You’d been together for so long (or at least, it felt like a long time) that there wasn’t anything particularly embarrassing about changing in front of each other.

You winced while lifting your hands up to take off your shirt, so Satoru was by your side in an instant, helping you take off your shift without much pain. He even helped you out of your bra and put on his shirt.

“You don’t need me to help you with the pants, do you?” he teased.

“I think I can handle it on my own,” you replied, standing up and shuffling out of your pants. Satoru’s pants were much too long for you, so you had to roll not only the waistband but also the cuffs so that they didn’t constantly drag on the ground. Not like you minded doing that; there was just something about his clothes that was infinitely more comforting than your own, and he knew that more than anyone else.

As you adjusted the pants, Satoru left the bedroom to head toward the kitchen, no doubt to start cooking some of your favorite foods. You laid down on your shared bed, happy to be home. It was a long day (Days? How long were you even unconscious?) and you were glad to have such a caring boyfriend, even if he was being a little annoying about this.

About an hour later, Satoru came into the bedroom with a tray of food. He wouldn’t let you even touch the chopsticks, insisting on feeding you food because he didn’t want you to “strain yourself.” You thought he was just being a little too overprotective, but you allowed him to feed you anyway. The look of satisfaction on his face was just too cute for you to deny him this tiny pleasure.

After dinner, you immediately wanted to go to bed. Satoru quickly ate his portion of dinner then changed out of his work clothes into something much more comfortable to sleep in. He joined you under the covers, using his cursed energy to turn off the lights. You felt his arms gently snake their way around your waist, pressing you into his front. You sighed in contentment; he was warm, but not too warm.

After a few seconds of silence, you piped up, “Satoru?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you for taking care of me. I love you.”

He placed a gentle kiss on your neck, just behind your ear. “Anything for you, my love,” he breathed onto your neck. You could feel him smiling gently. “Maybe we should just get married.”

You grumbled something, not even quite sure what you said or even what he said completely. Before sleep overtook you, you mumbled out one last final “I love you,” incredibly happy to be in your boyfriend’s arms at the moment.

[adamsvanrhijn]

the scene always starts with john, part 4/4

(part 1 is here, part 2 is here, part 3 is here)

When we see John and Oscar next, at dinner with Mrs Fish, they're not even interacting with each other.

This is so far from John-and-Oscar world it hurts, visibly if you are Oscar, who has been blindsided by this whole thing and clearly was not ready to see John flirting with somebody else—and certainly not if that somebody else is Gladys.

Of course, john flirting with somebody else is probably something Oscar would have to get used to REAL fast if he wants ~nothing to change~ and nobody to talk.

There are like a million layers to this.

For one thing, this makes it crystal clear that John behaved like that with Marian back in episode 1 by choice. If he'd wanted to, he could have charmed her just as he is charming Gladys!

I suspect that in John's mind, despite all of Oscar's handwaves and teasing and dismissals and responses, despite how in all of their conversations Oscar has been the answerer and never the asker, this is what Oscar has been asking of him for the entire season: this is living out of the shadows; this is a smokescreen to hide his true nature; this is behavior which attracts gossip in the young man; this is Being Reasonable.

This is what you are asking for, Oscar! This is what it looks like if John is doing it. The old John can't come to the phone right now; he has been left behind in New York, in John-and-Oscar world.

What emotion is motivating this, though? Is it spite for someone he has decided is his ex? Is it a demonstration that this sucks, actually? Is it "if I wanted to be married I would be already"? "I could take Gladys away from you"? "I can be convincingly heterosexual just fine whether you're married or not"? "Okay, fine, but I'm going to annoy you a little bit first"? "This is why we can't have nice things"?

What on earth is Oscar supposed to be feeling, here?

We don't know, and it isn't made clear.

But we can say that this, what John is doing here, what he is playing at, might be what he believes is the answer to the question he [thinks he] has been facing since the third episode.

And "this" is how we see them next.

At the ball, Oscar is doing his best to woo Gladys, more intently than we've ever seen him. He draws her aside to request a dance, is accepted but smacked on the hand a little, and then, ultimately, does indeed dance with her first, i.e. before anybody else does, which is a pretty big deal. He's in a good mood the whole time!

People me who were expecting something breakup-y like, Idk, the butler announcing "Mr. John Adams" and Oscar getting thrown off his game the same way he was in Newport, were perhaps a little blindsided.

What actually happens is, Mr. Oscar Van Rhijn makes his first move of the night on Miss Gladys Russell (and in context it was definitely the first of multiple dances, meaning he did not in fact end up leaving her alone all night), and then immediately turns around and sees Mr. John Adams across the ballroom making eyes of some sort at him over the shoulder of a woman he is about to waltz with.

Real world! Fully dressed! Ladies present!

Now what?!?!?!?!?!?!

the last scene is what.

this is potentially my favorite bookend in all of television.

just like in the first episode, oscar arrives home, walks up the stairs with madison square park in the background, goes down the hall, unlocks his door, and enters his apartment.

unlike in the first episode, it's early morning, his carriage is coming from the other direction, and:

he gets the first line.

"You beat me to it."

he gets the first line before he's even closed the door: he's surprised john is already home, and he stops when he sees him, then speaks. there is definitely enough time between the door opening and oscar speaking that john could have said something, but he didn't.

so now oscar is the one starting the conversation, for the second time we've ever seen—and for the first time if you count their last interaction as oscar continuing a scene rather than beginning it! this is a call, and he's seeking a response. and not only that, but This Is A Call About John!

prior to our script-flip, nothing in any of their conversations was ever Actually About John, not even when he tried, desperately, to make it about him before oscar left for newport. that's the closest we get, but ultimately that still was not about him, it was about oscar.

and like, yeah, oscar is mentioning himself here, but the answer he could get from this statement could easily have nothing to do with him: "yes, I left at x o'clock," or, "I just sat down." he could reply with the equivalent of "I'm staying with the Wetmores" and have it be not about oscar at all.

and they're in private again! they're undressed, with john in his dressing gown and oscar immediately taking off his jacket.

it's very reminiscent of the third episode, when john asked oscar to come to bed and oscar pushed back because he Needed A Drink because his gladys plan has Come Apart. oscar has more clothes on now than he did then, but not by much. also, john is now the one drinking, not oscar! (not necessarily the best sign?)

but this is the first time since that exact interaction when we have seen them in true privacy!

could it be... we are back in john-and-oscar world???

john responds to oscar's Call with what it warrants, which is a Response, and it is a response about himself: yes, he did beat oscar home, but "Not by much."

at that point it totally seems like it could be a straight up switch, just doing a 180 to the exact opposite of what their dynamic was before, but it's NOT, because:

that response is still inclusive of Oscar, it requires Oscar's preceding comment for it to make sense and it builds on it,

AND,

John calls back!!!

He then says, "you seemed to be making headway with Gladys," which you know, is unmistakably about Oscar, unmistakably an invitation to talk more about that, even if it's a little sulky, and Oscar says...

"So did you."

WE HAVE LITERALLY NEVER SEEN THEM INTERACT LIKE THIS BEFORE!

Oscar just invited John to talk about himself TWICE IN A ROW!

Oscar asks two questions in Newport, yes, and we have discussed those. Those questions are almost there, but not quite: yes, he is inviting John to discuss his own thoughts or his motivation, but what he really wants, both times, is to know why John is acting this way toward/about him. This is still About Him.

And John says, nope, not anymore!

In the finale, though, John is not doing that, and he shows no sign of wanting to. Of course he will talk about Oscar, and he will invite Oscar to talk about himself, too. That is what he does. But it's reciprocal, because they are also going to talk about him! We don't know if it's conditional on that, we don't have enough information to be sure, but that is exactly what we see them doing.

He doesn't say anything else for the rest of the scene; "you seemed to be making headway with Gladys" is the last thing he says in the season.

And that is a PRETTY BIG THING FOR HIM TO SAY.

For the very first time, John is not shying away from what Oscar is trying to do, here. He is not being oblique, he is not seeking a particular response, he is not replying to something about the situation that we can assume oscar said just before the camera started rolling.

He knows that Oscar's goal is to marry Gladys, and he acknowledges this by saying... you looked like you were making progress in your goal to marry Gladys.

You Tried, John! BUT he is inviting him to talk about more about it, which we know he NEVER would have done before.

again: the conversations he's started were all open ended; in the others he basically just wants to Make Sure He Is Hearing This Right because they're already on the subject. He has shown nothing but discomfort and disinterest in directly discussing that Oscar is currently chasing after a woman. But it is clear by now that Oscar is not giving up on Gladys, so John is going to at the very least give him an opening to talk about it and listen attentively when he does.

This is a familiar dynamic, in fact—we see it with the Russells day in and day out. They don't reeeeeally want to know or care about all the intricate details of each other's goals, nor necessarily their progress in reaching them, but they are doing all this out of Love, so by God are they going to listen to and support each other! (Most of the time.) (Interesting implications for season 2.)

Likewise, Oscar brings up that, we can assume, John danced with Gladys, too, and that it looked like they were also getting along pretty well. This is NOT John's goal, so John does not exactly like that Oscar does this, but again, they're meeting each other in the middle, they're making this about both of them, consciously.

And although Oscar is bringing it up with the intention of teasing him (this has got to be indicative of a sex thing), even that is a little different than it was before: he is teasing John about John, as opposed to teasing John with something that is still about himself [Oscar], his own behavior.

"So did you" != "Unless I take to it like a duck to water, you never know"

And then he takes it even further by making his justification ALSO about John! "Why are you scowling?" is about John's reaction in this instance, "You're so easy to tease" is about John's personality

I mean, in this particular instance that might not be something to make about John... but he says these things fondly, and again, we haven't see him do this at all before. It's a weird step, but it's still a step!

In any case, John does not take his turn to speak (still sulking), so Oscar goes back to what [John] said last: [Oscar] seemed to be making headway with Gladys. Oscar agrees! He says how he feels about the situation, that he Thinks He Can Do It, AND...

He acknowledges how John feels about the situation, too, in a manner much, much more direct than he's come close to before. He's not trying to placate him by Stating Facts ("there are plenty of men who have had to make exactly the same decision") and he's not telling him his feelings are irrational and that he shouldn't be having them ("be reasonable, what did you think would happen?").

Obviously "don't worry... nothing will change" isn't sitting with John's feelings. Oscar is not indulging him, but he is reassuring him in the way that John has been silently begging for him to do for months now: acknowledging he has an opinion about this, that he worries about this, and giving him a reason not to.

his reason is completely, utterly irrational and it needs a reason or five of its own to support it, but still!

This has always been about John, and Oscar has simply been taking it for granted that John knows that and knows that it's because Oscar loves him and [thinks he] is doing what's best for them.

But he never said this outright until that conversation pre-Newport, where John took it as a dismissal of his feelings and doubled down, probably because at that point he did NOT think Oscar felt the same way anymore.

But that's over, that was days to weeks ago, and now Oscar IS acknowledging it outright. In contrast to what John was doing in Newport, "this is 100% about you, but I'm not going to talk about it", Oscar is now saying, this IS about you, and I AM going to talk about it.

The real world is at home now, but they are still able to exist in this space that is Theirs, as Each Other's, and they both slip into it easily as they get affectionate.

I get the impression that somehow between episodes Oscar made it clear that what he is doing is about love, is about security and support, is about wanting what is best for himself and his lover, is about John...

Earlier in the episode, we get this exchange between Oscar and his mother:

at first I thought this could have had a double meaning regarding Oscar, maybe that he himself had to admit about being sad about John leaving.

"...what more is there to say?"

"That you're sad about it."

once I had the context that they were not in fact broken up, I thought maybe Oscar had to admit, say, to being anxious and scared and sad... but I can't quite believe he would go that far when he could express the positive side, that he loves John and wants him in his life and is doing this for them both and of course, fully believes nothing will change! (I do not think John is convinced of that, but I do think he could be convinced that Oscar's motivation is true.)

I can, however, believe that Oscar could get John to admit to his negative feelings. That what he says to his mother is something he had to say to John first, or perhaps something he knows will have to say to John later.

And I think that perhaps he did say that. That he made it clear that John needs to actually talk about his feelings. Because this has not been as one-sided as it might look: John has failed multiple times to communicate his needs. He cannot keep doing that if he wants to stay with Oscar, just as Oscar cannot fail to meet or at least to genuinely acknowledge those needs once they've been expressed. And they both must keep their cards on the table where their motivation for their actions is concerned: they love each other, and that's what's driving their behavior.

And if that is the case, then I think that, at least at this point in time, it seems to be enough to keep the relationship going.

[pretoriafics]

Therapy Sessions with the Devil - Part II

You guys requested me about this one so much! I'm glad all of you liked part one. Now, prepare yourself for your worst nightmare being Homelander's therapist.

Word count: 1.683 Contain: Therapist!Reader x Homelander Warnings: Mental disorders, sexual harassment, stalking and regurgitation. +16 only Versão em português aqui PART 1 THE BOYS MASTERLIST

If hell really exists, for you, it sure would be Friday mornings. Of course, that was a very contradictory thought for most people. Friday was usually associated with a fun day where, after work, you could go out with your friends in the evening and return home whenever you wanted. That was the advantage of Fridays: The fact that you know you don't have to wake up early the next day to go to work. Knowing that the week was coming to an end was like a cool breeze, as well as knowing that the next day would be pure rest. That didn't exactly apply to you. Okay, it was great to know that you wouldn't have to work the other day. That was the only good point on Fridays for you because on that specific day of the week you have Homelander as a patient. Your attempt to get rid of him on leaving Vought had been successfully thwarted because you were apparently a good professional. And you've never hated yourself so much for being good at what you did as a job. It turns out that, lately, things had started to get a little strange in the consultations with him. Homelander always mentioned a girl, whom he said he was starting to see differently. He filled her with compliments when he spoke of her, always reinforcing how much he loved the color of her eyes, her calm voice, and the way her hair moved with her graceful walk. Of course, according to him, if she were a Supe she would be perfect. But that's okay because he said he really accepted her "with that imperfection". You started to suspect that he was talking about you but avoided thinking about it. It not only made you sick with dread, but it completely perturbs you. A Homelander in love with you would be a great way to make it even worse than it was going. That morning on a Friday the 13th, when you arrived at the office, you saw that on your table was a sumptuous bouquet with the most beautiful reddish roses you had seen. Despite the beauty of those flowers, you took that as confirmation of your worst nightmare. Terrified, you let your bag hit the floor and ran to the bathroom. There, you knelt in front of the toilet and put all your breakfast out. Tears were wetting your face, your hands were shaking in pure fear. And then, you felt a hand touch your shoulder. “Yes, put everything out. Everything will be fine, it will be over… ” It was him. Homelander's voice flooded your ears, and you had to take a deep breath to try to take some control over yourself. “Okay, I'm already better. It must have been something I ate for breakfast. Can you excuse me and wait for me on the couch, please? ” He nodded, his blue eyes filled with concern. "Sure." As soon as he left, you closed the door. You took the toothbrush and the paste you kept there, brushed your teeth, and wiped away your tears. Then, you left the bathroom ready to get it over with. So, you sat in your chair while Homelander directed his worried blue eyes to you. You have started the query. "Well, let's get started then." “Don't feel pressured to make our session today. We can do it tomorrow, you are not feeling well. ” You forced a slight smile. “I'm better, thanks. And I don't work on weekends. ” Not least because you weren't willing to let Homelander ruin your Saturday. "I bought these flowers for you when I was coming here." He got up from the couch and took the bouquet from the table, handing it to you with a tender look. Homelander was beaming and even looked so anxious as a teenager in front of their crush. You, however, froze. You clenched your jaw and forced another smile, holding the flowers. “I appreciate it, John. I'm flattered, but I need you to know that we need to keep our relationship strictly professional and impersonal. I can have my therapist register canceled with this type of relationship with a patient because it is unethical, and I don't want to end up harming myself. ” Those words made you realize how brave you were. You had fought an internal battle to say that. "But I will put the flowers in a vase after the consultation." His expression became austere and you froze with it. Homelander nodded and lay down on the couch while you put the flowers back on your table. Fortunately, at that meeting, he hadn't mentioned you or anything you might suspect was about you. The subjects of that consultation were merely concerned with the Seven, about their suspicions about Starlight, and how angry he was with the team. You were with your head on the clouds. You couldn't stop thinking about what you would do now that your worst nightmare had become real. You were so disturbed, you didn't even see that appointment go by. It seemed to have passed in the blink of an eye, unlike the others that seemed to be an eternity. And then you were finally able to rest. Being Homelander's therapist also brought other burdens: No therapist could maintain consultations with you, because it was too heavy for anyone to hear you talk about Homelander. Until then, you hadn't been able to find anyone who could help you support the weight you carried on your shoulders. You even thought of writing everything you felt in a diary as a way to try to get out and put out what you felt. However, the fear that Homelander might read outweighed everything. That was another point: You felt, at times, that you were being followed and observed. The curtains in your house always remained closed, although you knew that if Homelander was really stalking you, curtains would not help. That was enough for you to start developing a little paranoia. But that Saturday had been unlike anything. As usual, you woke up with the feeling of being watched. However, it looked different that time. It was almost as if you were feeling that Homelander was also on the sumptuous penthouse where you lived. Knowing that hiding in any room in the house could be worse, you simply chose to go out with a friend. Your circle of friends didn't recognize you anymore, and they even seemed to be concerned about you. While you and your friend were walking through Central Park, while she was telling some random gossip from someone in your social circle, you couldn't stop looking around. Homelander was there, somewhere, watching you. You were quite sure of that! Night soon came, and that feeling of being watched did not go away. You had the impression that Homelander, when he came to watch you, never stayed that long. His maximum was three hours. But on that Saturday, he seemed to be on your heels all day. You chose to wear your worst pajamas that night, the one that best hid your body, since you never had the feeling of being watched at that time. You were certain that you would not be able to sleep, and you could already feel that your emotions were extremely drained. Trying to act as naturally as you could, you lay down in your King Size bed. You covered yourself with the blankets and turned off the lights. You were lying in a sideways so that you could see the door that went into your corridor. It was like you were waiting to hear Homelander's footsteps there. But then you saw, through the reflection of the mirror, the door to your closet - the only door you were facing away from. You saw the reason for all your dread. The mirror reflected the image of a Homelander with slightly red eyes, watching you through the crack in the door. His uniform pants were slumped under his feet, and despite the low light, you could see what he was doing - explained mainly by the movement of one of his arms. His eyes were on you as he touched himself, and that seemed to be the main reason he didn't notice that you saw him. Your heart sped up, and you had to contain a weeping of fear and the nausea you felt when you noticed that grotesque scene. Tears flooded your face so that your vision was completely blurred, and panic made your entire body stop functioning. Homelander was completely obsessed with you, and that would bring you to complete ruin. You didn't sleep the rest of the night - even when you noticed that Homelander was no longer in the apartment. Still, on Sunday morning, you only managed to get out of bed at seven. You had been crying all night, completely stunned by the surreal situation that had happened. Apathetic, there were no more tears, no energy to cry or be afraid. You were just an empty shell, an inanimate object - the Homelander's favorite one. So you walked slowly to the closet to change clothes. And there was proof that what had happened last night was real. It was everywhere. The pearly liquid present on the door, on the floor, and at some points on the wall proved that he had not touched himself just once that night. You staggered backward, feeling that sudden wave of nausea again. That scene was enough for you to stride to the bathroom, kneeling in front of the toilet while your body tried to expel something through your mouth, without success. Suddenly, you felt your heart racing. Panic enveloped you, and you leaned against the bathroom wall, your breathing as fast as your heart. Sweeping heat shot through your body, and you started to feel sweaty. The air seemed to start to drain from your lungs and you thought you were about to die. And if your time to die had indeed come, fine. Homelander would no longer torment you anymore.

[sooibian]

So Let's Runaway - Prologue

photocreds @tuanzie​

Pairing: Kyungsoo x Fem!Reader ft. bff!Chanyeol

Genre / Themes: Fluff, mild angst, travel AU, road trip through Spain, travel buddies Chansoo!

Warnings: Themes of grief / loss, heartache, toxic relationships, strong language, i guess..

Description: An unlikely group of three comes together for the journey of a lifetime.

A/N: This fic is part of @supermwritersnet​ “Around the world in 31 days event”. Inspired by the Hindi movie Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara. Uploading prematurely so as to stop obsessing over the prologue and get cracking on the travelogue which requires a tonne of research. Let me know if you’d like a tag on the upcoming chapter(s) due for upload on 19th July 2021.

Word Count: 3k *unedited*

____________________________

Doh Kyungsoo had dragged his feet up the endless flight of stairs seeking solitude...not drama.

A stranger, just one misstep away from a fatal fall, was the last thing he’d expected to find on the rooftop of Seoul’s Park Hyatt at three in the morning. He slipped the rooftop access key card (that he’d borrowed from the security guard in exchange for a 50,000 won bill) in the back pocket of his trousers while simultaneously dwelling on the depths of the rot of corruption. He had half a mind to turn away and forget that he’d just seen someone contemplating their existence on the ledge of a highrise but there was something about you that rooted him to the spot. Dressed in fine evening wear, you’d stretched your arms out like wings as you looked up at the vast expanse of midnight blue, the wind kissing your wild, waist length hair. From his standpoint, you looked oddly at peace.

Kyungsoo had never been an idealist or a victim of the white knight syndrome. He wasn’t one to delve into the ethical and philosophical conundrums for most things in life because to him it was all just a waste of time. Seeing you on the parapet filled him with neither sympathy nor worry. It was your life after all and with it you could do whatever you deemed fit as long as you weren’t inconveniencing others. Scratch that.

As long as you weren’t inconveniencing him.

But right now, unbeknownst to you, you were inconveniencing Seoul’s hottest financial broker, Doh Kyungsoo.

He wasn’t invisible to the hotel’s security cameras and being labelled suspect in an abetment to suicide investigation wasn't exactly what he was looking for after the day he’d had. Albeit inebriated and heavy-eyed, he could effectively calculate the logistics involved in pulling you off the ledge with the cacophony of the omnipresent Seoul traffic drowning out the sound of his footsteps.

Bracing himself for superficial bruises from the impact of falling to the right side of the precipice with the weight of an adult human pressing down on his 173 cm high frame, he took off his custom tailored blazer (that had been flown in from Vietnam especially for that evening) and folded it in half, making sure that the lapels touched. Some habits are hard to shake. He put the blazer on the ground as a makeshift floorcloth for the rest of his belongings. With his back facing you, he allowed himself a moment's peace as he loosened his tie, languidly rolled the sleeves of his pristine white dress shirt up to his elbows, freed himself off the Rolex Cellini on his left wrist, his Bottega Veneta fine leather wallet, and the cursed Tiffany Blue Box that he simply couldn’t bear to look at anymore and neatly placed them all on the blazer.

Letting out a deep exhale, he muttered curses under his breath before turning to your silhouette only to find it...gone.

Kyungsoo’s eyes narrowed and then immediately grew into large circles as he grappled with the shocking turn of events. An inexplicable heaviness bloomed in his chest and he felt sick to the stomach which, in a state of denial, he chalked up to the dubious mixture of spirits he’d downed not too long ago.

Before he could find his bearings and figure out what to do next, a light tap on his shoulder made him jump. His jaw went slack and his heart threatened to leap out of his chest to find you casually smiling at him. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to climb onto the very same ledge and scream into the void but he simply stood there, mouth agape, wanting to say a million things but he could hardly muster a peep.

Reading the confusion painted across his sharp, well defined features, you uttered an unsure, “Hi?”

“I thought you’d jumped,” he whispered, head tilted to the side, his compelling, bloodshot eyes locked with yours.

“Says someone who’s unusually jumpy,” you jested, but your expression immediately turned solemn when you caught the tremble in his right hand. “Are you on something?”

There came about a sudden shift in his aura. Hands on hips, he deadpanned, “Why? Are you with the cops?”

“No, don’t worry,” you let out a soft chuckle and he started scrambling for his things, “How long have you been standing here?”

Hastily stuffing everything into the pocket of his well fitted trousers, he muttered something along the lines of ‘Chaos. Just chaos everywhere!’

Leaning into his frame, you quipped, “What’s that?”

Alarmed and goggle-eyed, he snapped, “Nevermind,” and turned towards the exit.

“Hey! You seem to have forgotten something!” You called out after him upon finding his blazer on the ground, the silken sheen of it reflecting a myriad of citylights.

No answer.

“I wasn’t going to jump!” You yodelled childishly but the man was long gone.

.

.

.

Seven Hours Earlier

“Natasha -” Kyungsoo huffed.

The feather light Tiffany 1873 Blue Box in his left hand had suddenly started to feel like a giant boulder weighing down on his entire being. The sparkle of the uncut diamond reflected in his misty eyes as her uncharacteristically stoic silence left him struggling for words. He searched Natasha’s face for a hint of mischief...he so desperately wished for her to crack a sly smile and pull him in for a kiss and whisper ‘Yes! Yes! A thousand times yes!’ against his lips like they do in the movies, that he’d almost started to imagine it. It had to have been some sort of an ugly prank.

What reason does she have to turn me down? he wondered.

Kyungsoo breached the uncomfortable spell of silence with a desperate plea, “Say something!” the throbbing in his head intensifying by the second.

Did these three years mean nothing to you? What did I do wrong? Do you hate the ring? Is this not the kind of proposal you wished for? Is it because I left the bathroom lights on all night? Or is it because I forgot to wish your mother on her birthday? A flurry of questions spawned in Kyungsoo’s mind only to die at the tip of his tongue.

“I’m sorry, Kyungsoo, but I can’t do this. I just -” Natasha spoke finally. Gingerly shifting the weight of the box onto the ebony restaurant table, she slammed it shut as if the ring had been eyeing her lecherously.

Meeting Kyungsoo’s gaze almost defiantly, she declared, “Kyungsoo, I don’t think that I could be the kind of wife that would make you happy and I don’t think you could make me happy either.”

.

.

.

Two Weeks Later

Setting your eyes on that distinct pair of Dumbo ears, you excitedly weaved through the peak hour coffee shop crowd with an Iced Americano held firmly in one hand. Slamming the beverage down on the table, you engulfed his giant frame in a back hug and squealed, “Park Chanyeol!”

His wide eyes turned into even bigger brown circles and his mouth rounded into an ‘o’ in surprise. Grinning, he got off the uncomfortably tiny coffee shop chair and wordlessly pulled you in for what was famously known in Uni as a ‘Classic Chanyeol Hug’. You didn’t know how much you missed it until you felt your worries immediately dissipate into nothingness.

He hugged you a little tighter the moment you started to pull away before taking your hands in his and stooping down to your eye level. “Shifu, my love! You’re back in Seoul?!” Chanyeol exclaimed with all the love in the world sparking in the depths of his dark eyes.

Even after all this time, it felt as if nothing had changed….you’d suddenly been whizzed into a not-so-distant ‘Gothic architecture and coffee shops’ past in which a cotton candy haired boy, dressed in a pair of freshly ironed beige chinos and a plain white tee, smiles his sweetest smile simply at the sight of you. Chanyeol always felt like home. Funnily enough, even more so at the moment.

Giving him a good natured smile, you nodded in response, albeit cringing a little on the inside. Having been President of the martial arts club back in the days, you got stuck with an ingenious moniker “Shifu” which you clearly couldn’t shake off even after half a decade since graduation. You did a double take when your gaze veered to acknowledge the person seated opposite Chanyeol who, dressed in an ivory business suit, almost blended into the background. Just the way you could spot Chanyeol’s ears from a million miles away, you could recognize those eyes anywhere and right now they were shooting daggers at you.

“OH! Hi!”

His response to your greeting was a curt nod accompanying a vague hand movement, something between a hi and a failed facepalm.

At this Chanyeol guffawed, “You two know each other?”, his keen gaze rapidly flitting between the two of you.

“Yes -”

“No -”

While gesturing you to take a seat at their table, Chanyeol slumped into his chair and pursued the conversation in a voice laced with amusement, “So which is it?”

You gave your head a little shake, signalling Chanyeol to drop the topic since his friend had made his apprehension quite evident with an unambiguous “No” when asked if he knew you. Which...wasn’t entirely untrue. Even though Chanyeol now seemed to be on the same page as you, for good measure, you deflected his question with a polite, “I hope I’m not interrupting anything?”

“Absolutely not!” Chanyeol assured, deftly steering the conversation back to you, “We could actually use your advice on something but first, Shifu, look at you! How long has it been? Five years?”

“Five years!”

“Wahhh! What brings you back to Seoul?”

With a wistful smile, you answered, “Appa passed away in April...”

“Oh, I’m- I’m so sorry -” stuttered Chanyeol, immediately placing his hand on your arm and giving it a light squeeze. From the corner of your eye you noticed Chanyeol’s friend chewing on his bottom lip and listening to this exchange with rapt attention.

“No, no, it’s erm...we’re doing okay now, I guess-”

It had been two and a half months but every time you talked about it, a black hole burgeoned right in the middle of your chest, sucking you within itself and rendering you breathless. You still hadn’t picked up the art of condoling the “condoler”. What were you even supposed to say to the faultless “I’m sorry”? Who came up with condolence jargon, anyway?

“I’m sorry we haven’t been in touch - ”

“Oh, please. You know how it is after Uni, isn’t it,” you turned to Chanyeol’s friend to make him feel a little less left out, “what did you say your name was?”

“I didn’t,” he answered in a clipped tone while mindlessly scrolling through his phone.

“Yah!” Chanyeol chastised him with a deathly glare before continuing with an impish smile, “He’s Doh Kyungsoo.”

“Ah! So he’s Doh Kyungsoo! I’ve heard a great deal about you!” Your enthusiasm invoked a quick cursory smile from him. Doh Kyungsoo had apparently made it his life’s mission to make this unexpected rendezvous as icky as possible, leaving you to wonder if Chanyeol had ever discussed your brief relationship with him. Ex-girlfriend meets best friend? Not an ideal scenario in any part of the world.

Chanyeol and you had gone out for a couple of weeks towards the end of freshman year until you both realized that you were much better off as friends. Despite being joined at the hip in Uni, the two of you had gone your separate ways after post-grad. While he returned to Seoul to join the family business, you’d stayed back in Milan to explore job opportunities. Messages and phone calls became few and far between and it wasn’t long before both of you had completely lost touch with each other.

And it wasn’t until you met him again that you realized how desperately you needed a friend considering everything that had been going on in your life. You selfishly wished for Kyungsoo to leave you two to catch up on all these years spent apart but clearly that was a lot to ask considering how tacitly territorial he seemed to be getting about Chanyeol.

“So what was it that you wanted to talk about?” you asked in another feeble attempt to water down the rancour.

Chanyeol’s features flared into a bashful smile but the moment he opened his mouth to speak, Kyungsoo held a hand up to him and insisted, “Allow me to spare you the blushes,” before starting to explain the situation in an uncharacteristically eager tone, “This idiot is getting married in three months -”

Boisterously thumping Chanyeol’s back, you showered him with congratulations which he accepted with a shy ‘thank you.’

Kyungsoo continued, “- and we have a road trip planned for next month. As per the pact -”

Head tilted to the side, you shot, “What pact?”

“Some stupid pact that I have no memory of - ”

“That you conveniently have no memory of!” interrupted a salty Chanyeol.

Kyungsoo grimaced. Rubbing the corner of his eye, he continued with a heavy sigh, “It was supposed to be the three of us...Chanyeol, me, and our school friend Yixing.”

“Oh, okay?”

“So Yixing fell off a tractor and broke his back -”

“Oh, my gosh!” You exclaimed.

Kyungsoo’s mouth fell open. “I wasn’t there but I’d bet my ass that’s exactly what he said at the time.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing.”

“Wait, wait, slow down, why- how- a tractor?”

“He quit his CEO position to become a full time….farmer,” deadpanned Kyungsoo as if it was the stupidest thing Yixing could’ve done which rubbed you up the wrong way and coloured your otherwise neutral expression.

“He basically did what Kyungsoo doesn’t have the balls to do,” quipped Chanyeol, lips stretched into a gremlin-like grin. Kyungsoo returned his jibe with a strike to his arm causing him to let out a dramatic wail thus inviting the attention of everyone around you.

But none of it deterred Kyungsoo. He continued nonchalantly as if presenting a well crafted business proposal, “Since one of us is unavailable it only makes sense to postpone the trip and that’s exactly what I’ve been asking Chanyeol to do but he just won’t listen.”

“You’re getting married in three months and you’re taking this road trip next month. Will you be left with enough time for wedding planning?” you reasoned with Chanyeol, well aware of the kind of family he belonged to and the kind of weddings these families planned.

“Mr. Park here was way too eager,” Kyungsoo butted in.

“Shut up, Kyungsoo!”

“Wahhh you must really love her ~ ,” you sang, moon-eyed.

“Clearly. He couldn’t even wait for the rest of us to finish singing the birthday song for his Eomma.”

“What?”

“Yeah! He popped the question to Aera right in the middle of it.”

“WHAT!”

“That’s a story for another day,” replied Chanyeol in an atypically calm tone, “but you’re right, Shifu, it’s not enough time and that’s why I’ve been asking this idiot to just -”

“All reservations are for three. It logistically makes more sense to reschedule,” declared Kyungsoo with a hint of finality in his tone.

It didn’t. It definitely didn’t make more sense to reschedule but as gullible as Chanyeol was, he said nothing to counter Kyungsoo’s illogical argument.

“Are you sure your friend Yixing would be okay with it, Yeollie? I’m sure you can wait for him to get better and -”

Firmly setting his jaw, Chanyeol looked you square in the eyes and stated, “It's now or never.”

Kyungsoo stole a glance at you and cleared his throat, hesitance betraying his voice when he spoke again, “Chanyeollah, you’re only getting married stop talking like you’re terminally ill.”

Chanyeol's expression softened to convey an implicit plea causing you to tweak your suggestion, “The two of you can still go? I’m sure Yixing won’t mind.”

But Chanyeol hit you with an unexpected proposal. He asked, “Do you want to come?”, in a tone that was way too serious for a road trip.

“What? No!”

“Why not? You’re here and - “

“- and Yixing’s not,” interrupted Kyungsoo.

Ignoring the sarcasm in Kyungsoo’s voice, you turned Chanyeol down gently, “No, Yeol, it’s just- it doesn’t make sense, bub.”

“Why not? We leave in a month and that’s plenty of time to get all your travel docs in order -”

“Travel docs? You mean….insurance?” You asked hesitantly.

“Yeah! Insurance...you won’t need a visa, though.”

“Visa? Yeah, obviously I won’t be needing a visa. Why would I need a visa for a road trip?”

Chanyeol slapped his forehead and wondered aloud, “Oh, shoot! We didn’t tell her, did we?”

Kyungsoo gave his head a little shake, prompting you to ask, “Tell me what?”

“It’s a road trip through uhhh northeastern Spain -”

Chanyeol’s elaborate account of the itinerary was drowned in the whirlpool of emotions that erupted within you at the mention of the country. That part of your life you had locked away in the deepest, darkest corners of your consciousness now stared you straight in the eyes, forcing you to acknowledge a reality far too jarring for your fragile state of mind. You took a sip of your long forgotten beverage to centre yourself but it didn’t take a genius to know that something was up.

Placing a hand on your head, he asked softly, “What is it, Shifu? I understand if you can’t leave Eomma alone at this point...”

“It’s not Eomma,” you took another sip of the drink to fight the lump in your throat, “Eomma is - Eomma is in Bucheon, visiting her sister. For I don’t know how long but...long.”

“Is it work?” contributed Kyungsoo.

“I quit my job,” you answered and he looked at you as if you, a total stranger, had just asked him his body count.

Chanyeol took your hand in his and reiterated, “Come, then? You need this.”

Your gaze bounced between the two men who wore the exact same expression in expectation of two entirely different answers. And whatever you chose to say next, you were sure to disappoint one of them.

Eyes unfocussed, a deafening ringing echoing in your ears, you declared softly, “I need this,” with a million unpleasant scenarios running through your head, making you sick to the stomach.

Chanyeol pulled you in for a bear hug. Kyungsoo rolled his eyes and let out a deep, disappointed sigh.

[crossdressingdeath]

I agree with your points on the various threads you talk about of the Jiang Family. Reading them gave me lot of insight on their characters especially JYL once I took off my rose-tinted glasses.

Madam Yu is poison when it comes to her family dynamics and unfortunately JC turns to her guide more so than his own father. Madam Yu is a character who purposely makes things harder for her self because she is unsatisfied and unhappy. People in the fandom like to say she is a victim because her husband is not in love with her. But really who would love her as a wife or as a mother? I wouldn't... Honestly can you imagine living your whole life being tense at the dining table. I always joke with my mother and play funny pranks it'd fucking hurt me if my own mother would have said she wished I wasn't born. I am no psychologist but ya gotta admit shit like that would make you have trust issues or make you rethink critically of your own mother.

For all the Madam Stan out... MY is incredibly hard to please with

People like Madam Yu is destined to live a lonely life because they are incredibly narrow-minded and point out all the faults in their own life instead of their own actions.

That is why WWX had a second chance. I always think that he must have received divine intervention and reaped his awards because of all the good and acculmated good karma earned in his first life. He followed his own moral code and did the right thing even if things went south for him.

She is not a victim, but an abuser, a woman who terrorizes her own husband, children, and everyone around her for no apparent reason.

I'm beginning to suspect that, just as JC must have been appeased by his actions, Madam Yu was as a child.

Well, WWX got a second chance because he was powerful enough and lucky enough in his acquaintances that he was picked up as a useful tool for revenge. It gets glossed over a lot because it's not a hugely important part of the story, but WWX only gets brought back so someone else can take advantage of his incredible skill and good nature; the only difference is that unlike the Jiangs NHS is happy to leave WWX alone to live his life once the task he needs him for is done. I don't think divine intervention figures into it, he was just useful. To useful to leave dead, as it happens. Remember, all the sects were trying to track down WWX's spirit, presumably so they could use it; NHS and MXY were just the ones to make it work.

But yeah, people always treat YZY like a victim when... name one thing that happens to her that isn't her own damn fault. Her husband doesn't love her? Well, maybe she shouldn't have forced him to marry her! Her children are useless? Maybe she should have taught them instead of just berating them when they weren't instantly perfect! Her sect was destroyed and she died? Maybe she shouldn't have picked a fight with the people who'd parked an army on her doorstep! Her husband likes his ward better than her son because he was in love with the kid's mother rather than his wife? ...Well, that one's something she made up so it's even more her fault than the others because any consequences are entirely in her head and any rumours about it came from her. Really, if JFM wasn't so insanely distant and conflict-averse she would've been out on her ass years before WWX showed up in Lotus Pier. In fact morally she should have been the moment she started mistreating his children; JFM might have been okay to ignore it for himself, but he didn't have the right to make that decision for his kids. YZY got infinitely more than she ever deserved just by being allowed to stay in Lotus Pier; she certainly didn't deserve love from anyone there. Also, I hate this insistence that JFM was abusive because he didn't bow before YZY's every whim; seriously, pay attention to those arguments and it's like "He was abusive to YZY because instead of leaving WWX to starve on the street he brought him into the sect and gave him a position worthy of his skills", "He was abusive to YZY because he occasionally told her off for abusing children", "He was abusive to YZY because he had feelings for someone other than her at some point", "He was abusive to YZY because she concluded he liked his brilliant and charming ward better than his jackass son who she actively prevented from learning anything approaching decent behaviour and he didn't immediately devote all his time and attention to showing her otherwise"... They range from stupid to the usual JC stan argument of "How dare he not shut up and take abuse and instead openly dislike being treated like that". YZY deserved death more than she deserved anything approaching love from the people in her life and people claiming that JFM was the abusive one because he didn't obediently adore the woman who'd been treating him like shit for years just because she wanted it are... so wrong.

[tiramisiyu]

【未定事件簿】 Tears of Themis: Main Story 7-34 Translation

Translation Masterlist | Video

Chapter 7 – Rains of Monte Cristo: 7-1 / 7-3 / 7-5 / 7-7 / 7-9 / 7-11 / 7-13 / 7-15 / 7-17 / 7-19  ♦️ ♦️  7-20 / 7-22 / 7-24 / 7-26 / 7-28 / 7-30 / 7-32 / 7-34 / 7-35

Content Warning: This section contains topics that may be uncomfortable to some readers (mentions of abuse). Please proceed with discretion.

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After we left Hang Jiahe’s place, Xu Yin hastened off. No one knew what she was thinking, and all she left was a staggering silhouette.

When we returned to Marius’ car, we hadn’t recovered from the confrontation with Hang Jiahe either, so we sunk into silence. I subconsciously realized that Marius seemed… somewhat sad?

MC: Marius, are you okay?

Marius: … You noticed.

MC: If something’s troubling you, tell me. Don’t keep it pent up inside.

Marius: …

Marius: I keep thinking back these days on what Wang Chunchong said to me…

Marius: When I heard Hang Jiahe’s story, I suddenly… felt a little scared…

MC: Scared?

Marius: Yeah. I live in the same world as Xu Yin, Wang Chunchong, and Hang Jiahe.

Marius: But I’m luckier than them, as my brother and dad both love me – so I’ve got a happy family overall.

Marius: So I don’t have to climb up, step by step the way Xu Yin and Wang Chunchong have to, just to live.

Marius: And I definitely am not like Hang Jiahe, who couldn’t even choose her own life.

Marius: But all of what I have right now is built on the foundation of Pax and the von Hagen family.

Marius: As the von Hagen stands at the very summit, we have no problems whatsoever.

Marius: But if one day, all of this were gone, could I still be this happy?

Marius: Would my day still come?

MC: Of course it will.

Marius: Why?

MC: Because whether day comes or not isn’t determined solely by the outside world.

MC: Like this.

I took out my phone and turned on the flashlight.

Instantly, a thin white light cut through the air, lighting up the dark interior of the car.

MC: Even if one is in the middle of the darkness, if you can find a light, even if it’s the thinnest, weakest sliver…

MC: It can still light up the darkness.

MC: Hang Jiahe’s story is a tragedy from top to bottom. No one could find the light to save themselves in the darkness.

MC: But unlike them, you are a light yourself.

MC: Even if you discard the halo of Pax and the von Hagen family, your own light can illuminate darkness.

Marius: …

Marius looked at me quietly, his eyes glittering in the weak light.

Marius: Jiejie, you’re right, but… not completely right.

MC: What?

Marius: Not only can I emit light, but I’ve also found the light that can illuminate me.

MC: !!!

MC: …

Marius: …

MC: … A-anyways, Marius, about what Hang Jiahe said at the end…

Seeing the atmosphere in the car get stranger and stranger, I rushed to change the topic.

Marius: Though I don’t want to admit it, I do think she’s right.

Marius: It’s impossible for us to incriminate her with the evidence we have now.

MC: But the police haven’t found out anything, and Hang Jiahe wears gloves, so she wouldn’t have left fingerprints…

MC: There’s no way for us to prove that she was the one to use the hammer…

Marius: …

Marius: No, we might have a way.

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Waiting Room

Very appropriately, it was raining in Stellis on the day of the trial for Hang Fei and Qi Yu’s case. I arrived at the meeting room early, preparing to reread all my materials, so I could better face this trial where odds were winning were pretty low.

MC: (Only Marius would have come up with this method…)

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[Flashback]

Darius Morgan: You want Hang Jiahe herself to admit everything she did in court?

Marius: Yes, that’s the most effective method I can think of right now.

MC: But… how does that work…

MC: …

MC: Are you thinking of imitating the psychological tactics I used against Fannie before in court?

Marius nodded.

MC: But Hang Jiahe’s not like Fannie, so how do we get at her?

Marius: About that… do you remember what we went to her house and you noticed that her glove had broken?

MC: “Looks like this glove design quality isn’t that great either, since it broke on me without me realizing…”

MC: “I’ll look for more durable designs.”

MC: You mean that Hang Jiahe might have accidentally left fingerprints or other clues?

Marius: Yes.

MC: That is possible, but this might not necessarily be of any use against her.

Marius: I got in touch with the production factory of that toolbox. Though the number’s carved on the hammer’s iron core…

Marius: The same number is also secretly carved on the handle, and only the factory itself can identify it.

Marius: They did this to prevent people from making fakes – kind of a trade secret.

Marius: I found out about it thanks to some connections.

MC: Thanks for your hard work.

Marius: No big deal – anyways, back on topic.

Marius: We can send the murder weapon to the factory for confirmation. If all goes as planned…

Marius: Assuming that the number on the core and the handle don’t match, Captain Morgan, we’ll have to trouble you to re-examine the murder weapon again.

Marius: Though this time, what we need to identify are any residues or biological indices on it.

MC: You suspect that there are Hang Jiahe’s fingerprints on the murder weapon?

Marius: Yes.

Darius Morgan: But, Marius, putting aside whether we can even get this examination in before trial…

Darius Morgan: With how much time has passed, it’s highly unlikely that any residues are left, even if they existed back then.

Marius: I know. It’s just…

MC: Captain Morgan… we can only stake our bets on this.

Darius Morgan: And what if we come up empty?

MC: Then I will still confront Hang Jiahe in court with all the truths I have until the final moment.

Darius Morgan: You probably understand that if you fail, we might never catch Hang Jiahe again.

MC: I understand, but I’m sure our effort will display results. I will not give up if we haven’t reached the end yet.

Marius: Captain Morgan, I’m also requesting this of you.

Darius Morgan: … I understand.

Darius Morgan: Within the scope of law, I will do my best to have Wang Chunchong stand in court as the suspect. As for the rest…

He smiled at me.

Darius Morgan: It’s all on you.

[Flashback end]

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As he promised, Darius dealt with everything after.

MC: (My emotions are a mess… I don’t even know what to say right now…)

MC: (I’ll go through the files again.)

I sunk back into case-file reading. In the middle of that, Marius pushed open the door with a bag full of breakfast.

Marius: You arrived so early.

MC: Yeah, I wanted to go through the information once more before appearing in court, just to ensure that I’m fully prepared.

Marius: Don’t be so nervous, eat your breakfast first.

MC: Thanks.

Marius: No problem. Oh, right, Captain Morgan had me give you this.

Marius handed me a document.

Marius: This is the information Captain Morgan got when they were investigating Hang Jiahe’s alibi.

Marius: There are blind spots in the villa’s surveillance – Hang Jiahe probably used them to come and go from it.

Marius: The police are currently looking for any witnesses around that area.

Marius: Aside from that, the two identical toolboxes were ones that Hang Jiahe bought around January 25th.

Marius: Wang Chunchong was also in the apartment during then. She probably used the opportunity when she said she returned home to get clothes…

Marius: To get the hammer handle with Wang Chunchong’s fingerprints.

MC: Understood.

[Obtained Police’s Investigation Report]

Marius: Also, this is the examination report that the police currently have on the murder weapon.

Marius: The factory confirmed that the murder weapon’s handle is indeed from set No. 22, and the other thing we guessed…

Marius flipped to the second page of the report, where it was clearly written “No results currently regarding residues or biological indices.”

MC: (Looks like we can’t tell whether there are fingerprints on it for now…)

MC: …

Marius: Hold onto this report.

MC: Okay.

Marius: Alrighty, take your time eating, then. I won’t bug you anymore.

Marius: In court, just do what you want – don’t be too nervous.

Marius: Everything will go well.

MC: Yep.

Marius left with a smile. I looked at that examination report, making a silent decision.

MC: (I’ll proceed with all I have!)

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CRIMINAL COURT

10:00 AM

Judge: Court is in session. The court calls the People of Stellis versus suspect Wang Chunchong for the homicide case of Hang Fei and Qi Yu.

Judge: First, may the prosecution give their opening statement.

Prosecutor: I represent the People of Stellis against Wang Chunchong.

Prosecutor: On the night of January 28th, Hang Fei and Qi Yu, residents of Yaofu Community, were murdered at home. Their corpses were found not long ago.

Prosecutor: Investigation revealed that Wang Chunchong had severe conflicts with the victims due to a betrothal gift issue.

Prosecutor: That night, Wang Chunchong took food items laced with special drug G24D into the victims’ house under the pretext of apologizing.

Prosecutor: After he led the victims to eat the food, Hang Fei and Qi Yu fell unconscious due to the drug.

Prosecutor: The suspect took this opportunity to move the victims to the floor and used a hammer in the room to deal lethal blows to their heads.

Prosecutor: After, the suspect brought the bodies to his home using the apartment’s special fire escape route and placed them inside suitcases.

Prosecutor: After the suspect went to the natural park’s back mountain, then buried the bodies and the murder weapon.

Prosecutor: Investigation revealed Wang Chunchong’s fingerprints on the murder weapon, as well as the DNA of the victims in the suitcases in his home.

Prosecutor: The surveillance cameras where the burial location was clearly recorded Wang Chunchong’s entrance and exit.

Prosecutor: Thus, the prosecution believes that Wang Chunchong had full motive for the crime and that the evidence is conclusive.

Judge: Does the defendant have any objections regarding the prosecution’s statement?

Wang Chunchong: I didn’t kill Hang Fei and Qi Yu! It wasn’t me!

MC: I believe that there are major flaws in the prosecution’s evidence chain. The true culprit of this case is Hang Jiahe, not Wang Chunchong!

MC: First, the natural park’s surveillance footage only recorded Wang Chunchong’s movements at the park’s front door.

MC: It is impossible to judge where he went after entering the park. Thus, this evidence is untenable.

 PROSECUTION OBJECTION

Prosecutor: Objection! As the defense lawyer believes that it is impossible to determine that Wang Chunchong went to bury the bodies based on the natural park door’s surveillance…

Prosecutor: The prosecution also believes that it is impossible to determine that Wang Chunchong did not bury the bodies.

Prosecutor: Thus, the prosecution believes that Wang Chunchong is still highly suspect of performing post-murder corpse disposal.

 OBJECTION

MC: Objection! The defense has evidence to prove that Wang Chunchong did not go to bury bodies that night.

 Select: Recording of Simon’s murder

MC: That night, Wang Chunchong went to the natural park to meet Simon on the north mountain.

MC: This recording indicates when Wang Chunchong murdered Simon, which is the same time as what happened in the park.

MC: Thus, Wang Chunchong could not have been simultaneously discarding the corpses at the same time at the foot of the mountain.

MC: Simon’s murder case is an essential part of this case.

MC: Hang Jiahe knew of Wang Chunchong’s plan to murder Simon, and thus chose the same day to murder Hang Fei and Qi Yu.

MC: Only in this way could she successfully frame Wang Chunchong.

Prosecutor: Defense lawyer, what evidence do you have that proves that Hang Jiahe knew of Wang Chunchong’s plan?

 Select: Wang Chunchong’s Recording Pen

MC: Wang Chunchong murdered Simon because Tyson requested it of him.

MC: And Hang Jiahe was the one who introduced Wang Chunchong to Tyson.

MC: Hang Jiahe, Tyson, and Wang Chunchong were all aware of when and where Simon was to be murdered.

 PROSECUTION OBJECTION

Prosecutor: Objection! The defense lawyer claims that Hang Jiahe was the one who murdered Hang Fei and Qi Yu.

Prosecutor: But according to investigation, Hang Jiahe, Hang Fei, and Qi Yu were a happy family.

Prosecutor: And the relationships that Hang Jiahe had with her adoptive parents were excellent.

Prosecutor: She has no motive to commit the crime.

 OBJECTION

MC: Objection! Hang Jiahe does have motive to commit the crime, and it is stronger than Wang Chunchong’s.

 Select: Hang Jiahe’s Hidden Video Records

MC: During the ten-plus years Hang Jiahe was fostered in the Hang family, she suffered inhuman abuse at the hands of her foster father.

MC: This damaged her physiological health and ruined her life.

MC: Thus, Hang Jiahe hates all those who pushed her into the depths.

MC: This does not only include Hang Fei and Qi Yu, but it also includes her biological parents Xu Yin and Tyson, as well as her fiancé Wang Chunchong.

MC: Judge, I request Hang Jiahe’s appearance in court.

Judge: A reasonable request. Summon Hang Jiahe to court.

Hang Jiahe: I did hate those people who made living even worse than death for me, but I never murdered anyone.

Hang Jiahe: Also, when the murder occurred, I was not in the apartment. I have an alibi.

 OBJECTION

MC: Objection! Within the time that the crime occurred, you did return to the apartment.

Hang Jiahe: Oh? Do you have proof?

Select: January 28 Apartment Full-Day Surveillance Footage

MC: This is the full-day surveillance footage the day the crime happened.

MC: Based on big data lab analysis, comparison, and person-eye identification, Hang Jiahe appeared for a total of 6 times in the footage.

MC: Individually, these times are: 12pm, 7pm, 8pm, 9pm, 9:45pm, and 10:15pm.

MC: The reason why she was repeatedly entering and exiting the apartment was to complete her alibi.

 PROSECUTION OBJECTION

Prosecutor: Objection! According to the forensics identification results, Hang Fei and Qi Yu died on the 28th after 10pm.

Prosecutor: With Hang Jiahe’s physique and strength, it would be impossible to have moved and struck the bodies, then cleaned the scene, within 15 minutes.

 OBJECTION

MC: Objection! Hang Fei and Qi Yu did not die on the 28th after 10pm.

MC: They died after 12:30pm that day.

 PROSECUTION OBJECTION

Prosecutor: Objection! The victims’ surmised time of death was determined by forensics experts. Defense lawyer, do not speak without grounds.

 OBJECTION

MC: Objection! The bodies of Hang Fei and Qi Yu had undergone severe decay. When forensics determined the time of death, aside from basing it on the corpses’ anatomical analysis…

MC: They also based it on the victims’ final movements and the surveillance footage of the apartment on the 28th.

MC: In the footage, Qi Yu last appeared at 9:45pm, but the Qi Yu that appeared was not the real Qi Yu.

MC: Instead, it was Hang Jiahe in disguise.

 PROSECUTION OBJECTION

Prosecutor: Objection! A security guard saw Qi Yu who appeared in the grand lobby at 9:45pm, so she could not have been another person in disguise.

 OBJECTION

MC: Objection! The Qi Yu that the security guard saw was wearing a face mask and hat, so he could not have seen her full face.

Prosecutor: Even so, the hammer responsible for the murder of Hang Fei and Qi Yu had Wang Chunchong’s fingerprints on them. Defense lawyer, how do you explain this?

MC: That was because Hang Jiahe had switched out a part of the murder weapon.

Prosecutor: Defense lawyer, what proof do you have?

 Select: Hammer Photo

MC: The hammer that served as the murder weapon is a dual-purpose hammer.

MC: With similar models, one can switch out the handle while leaving the iron core.

MC: Hang Jiahe used this fact, switching the handle she owned with Wang Chunchong’s fingerprints on them onto the murder weapon.

 PROSECUTION OBJECTION

Prosecution: Objection! All mentioned methods are merely the defense lawyer’s conjectures, with no evidence to support them.

 OBJECTION

MC: Objection! I do have evidence!

 Select: Police’s Examination Report

MC: According to investigation, the set No.22 toolbox in Hang Jiahe’s house and the set No.21 toolbox in Room 1001…

MC: Were both purchased by Hang Jiahe.

MC: Why else would she buy two of the same toolboxes, if not to switch the hammer handles?

Hang Jiahe: You’ve spoken so much, but do you have any evidence that directly proves that I killed them?

Hang Jiahe: If not, then everything you’ve said is just a made-up story.

MC: I do…

I looked at Hang Jiahe, sighing deeply. This moment had finally come.

MC: Just in case, we applied for another examination of the murder weapon, especially the handle portion.

MC: This is the examination report that the police gave.

I took out the last examination report that Marius gave me, showing it for all in court to see.

MC: In this report, we noticed a vital piece of evidence.

Hang Jiahe: What evidence?

MC: The production factory confirmed that the No.21 hammer, the murder weapon, had the forgery-preventing No.22 carved in its handle.

MC: Based on this, we requested that any residues and biological indices on the murder weapon to be examined, and…

I stopped speaking and looked towards Hang Jiahe.

Hang Jiahe: What are you looking at?

MC: Miss Hang, are your gloves alright today? They haven’t split again, have they?

Hang Jiahe: W-what are you saying this for?

MC: No major reason. It’s just that you seemed somewhat troubled about this when we met before.

Hang Jiahe: Of course I’d get angry over my gloves breaking. Can’t I?

MC: Of course you can. But, Miss Hang, have you experienced your gloves breaking on you before?

Hang Jiahe: W-what are you trying to say?

Hang Jiahe’s originally calm face grew agitated, and a bead of sweat slid down her neck.

MC: Nothing, I’m just asking a question. This shouldn’t be a hard-to-answer question.

Hang Jiahe: Whether it has or hasn’t, does this have anything to do with the case?

MC: Whether it has or hasn’t isn’t for you to decide.

MC: But since you’ve said this, I’ll ask you some questions that are more related to the case.

I grasped the file in my hand tight, looked straight at Hang Jiahe, and added some emphasis to my words.

MC: Miss Hang, why did you return so many times to the apartment on the night of the crime?

MC: Why did you buy toolboxes of the same model before the murder?

Hang Jiahe: I… I…

MC: Also, why did these toolboxes just happen to appear in yours and the victims’ homes?

MC: Why are so many coincidences tied to you?

MC: Hang Jiahe, how do you explain this?

Hang Jiahe: No… no way, my fingerprints couldn’t have been on the hammer!

Hang Jiahe looked at me, her eyes gradually growing fiercer.

Hang Jiahe: I clearly confirmed it so many times when I was switching the handle and killing those two beasts.

Hang Jiahe: I shouldn’t have gotten anything wrong, so why did something still slip through?

MC: So, Hang Jiahe, you admit that you did murder Hang Fei and Qi Yu?

Hang Jiahe: So what if I did? It’s Hang Fei’s fault for running into my room that night and raising a hand against me again!

Hang Jiahe: I’ve had enough! I won’t give him another chance to humiliate me as he pleases!

MC: Then why did you murder Qi Yu?

MC: She never stopped Hang Fei? Before, she clearly…

Hang Jiahe: Qi Yu… hah, she did try to stop him that night, but she should have tried long ago!

Hang Jiahe: She’s been a bystander for so many years!

Hang Jiahe: They should both go to hell together!

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Judge: Per court trial, the prosecution’s accusations against Wang Chunchong lack evidence and are untenable.

Judge: Simultaneously, multiple pieces of evidence indicate high suspicion against Hang Jiahe in this case.

Judge: Defense lawyer, it seems that your guesses were all correct, and the risks you took this time were all quite interesting.

Judge: Leave the rest of the work to the criminal investigation department.

Judge: Court is adjourned!

[immortalonus]

Where You Belong: Chapter 3

A/N: I hate this chapter so, so much. Unfortunately, I also couldn't find any way around it. If I got anything wrong, chances are I just missed it, so feel free to let me know.

Read on AO3 here.

“...Humans with ghost powers!? Crazy, right?” Valerie snorted, then paused.

“Or humans that turn into ghosts, or ghosts that—stay human when they die or whatever. The important thing is that there was a part of Ellie that was real. And if it hadn't been for Phantom, I'd have just left her there with Plasmius, to do whatever—to hurt—to—”

Valerie took a moment, struggling to admit out loud what she had already begun suspect for herself.

“—kill her. he was gonna murder a little girl, mama, and if Phantom hadn't convinced me she still had some human in her, if I hadn't listened to a ghost, I woulda let him.”

Phantom, if she hadn't listened to Phantom, specifically. It was a detail that still irritated her every time it came up.

The ghost boy had been so persistent, for so long in his charade of being a “good guy,” that most days, she simply tuned him out.

And truly, was that so wrong?

Up to that point, Everything Phantom had said in his own defense had been nothing more than talk. Oh, he said sorry, he said he felt bad about it, but at the end of the day, what had he done?

Ruined her fathers job and her life, then fled the scene like the criminal he was.

Stole for the hell of it and couldn't even be bothered to take the blame when he got caught.

(Valerie still had no idea why the ghost thought an “evil mind controlling clown guy,” was a reasonable excuse, at all, for anything.)

Who was always ready to fight, but never to help.

Never, not once, in all the wretched aftermath of the Grey's financial dissolutionment, had Phantom come to their aid. Not in the immediate events that came after, nor during the process of her father's dismissal, when he could well have stayed his expulsion simply by appearing, proving Damian Grey's assertions of spectral interference months before he would have been otherwise believed.

Not during the move from her childhood home to her current residence down in Elmerton. Too strapped to hire assistance, it had been down to Valerie, her father, and Fenton, who had taken his weekend off to help her move instead.

No haunting the creditors who dogged their every step, even now.

Hell, he couldn't even be bothered to tell the public that it was his fault her life was ruined! In private, yes, where he knew no one could hear. But never where it mattered, to whom it mattered, since that would require Phantom to actually give something up for once and admit what he did was wrong. Which he would never do, because Phantom, like all ghosts, was a fundamentally egotistical creature, right down to his very core.

No, Valerie had good reason to believe that she had Phantom all figured out: A showboating prig, full of hot air and false excuses, distinct from other ghosts only in his capacity to fool the masses into believing he was ever anything more.

Then Elle happened.

The ghost girl's mere existence had managed to throw Valerie's world into a whole new tailspin, leaving her reeling even as events conspired to yank more and more of her footing out from under her, teetering on the edge of her own understanding as all her convictions suffered blow after blow.

Living ghosts.

Ghostly humans.

Friends acting as enemies.

While enemies acted as friends.

“I woulda let him kill her.” She repeated, “Just like I let him kill—end—All those other ghosts I gave him, just handed 'em over for whatever freak experiments he had cooked up.”

Just like she had snuffed out who knew how many other specters during her own patrols.

How many of them were still alive in there, she wondered, underneath the ghost?

Her mother's brows seemed to furrow in response, worried, no doubt, over what exactly her daughter had done.

“I didn't mean it mama, it wasn't my fault! It was all Plasmius, you know Plasmius? That knockoff Nosferatu all the time picking fights with Phantom. He used me and he lied, and—“ Valerie licked her lips futilely seeking moisture from a mouth gone dry.

“He played human to do it.”

Valerie felt a flush of rage and shame wash over her at the words. She had been used all over again, played for a fool and manipulated just like her so-called “friends” had used her before, dangling control and importance in exchange for the very essence of her soul.

To learn that she had struck the same deal with a different kind of devil, that all her power was a tool in someone else's hands had curdled into an ache that rivaled the raw burn of a whole new betrayal.

Because unlike the A-listers she'd run with not too long ago, or even Phantom, who she'd always hated, Vlad Masters had been a man she'd seen fit to trust.

“Plasmius was Masters, and—God, they even share the same first name—My sponsor, the guy who gave me my first suit, trained me up, even kept me and daddy off the streets when things were at their worst. And me stupid enough to think it was 'cause he cared.”

A hard exclamation escaped her throat at the thought, to forceful for a scoff, too sharp for laughter.

No such thing indeed.

“Everyone's out for something. Masters—Plasmius, he was out for Phantom, and I was just the pawn that was supposed to get take him out.”

That's part of what scares me too. Why was Plasmius so dead set on Phantom? Why'd he sink so much money into taking him out? Why does Phantom hate him back?”

And it was peculiar, how much Phantom seemed to hate Plasmius. Valerie had thought for a long time that it was some kind of territory dispute, a conflict over a rare and valuable thin spot between realities. After years of chasing after Phantom, however, it became more and more clear that the ghost boy's resentment of Plasmius went beyond that of simple competition.

The mere mention of the vampiric specter was enough to turn Phantom tense and snippy, as though the mere thought of the other ghost irritated him, somehow. After witnessing the two up close, Valerie's suspicions had cemented into certainty: Phantom hated Plasmius, and he hated him personally.

“There's so much I don't know, and no one to tell me. Plasmius doesn't know that I know, and until I get out from under him, that's how it's gotta stay.”

How Valerie was supposed to get out from under Plasmius was another question entirely. Plasmius, in Vlad Master's guise, was the sole reason the Grey family had managed to keep on top of its debts for as long as they had. To make matters worse, he also provided most of the materials Valerie's suit consumed for its more elaborate systems and weaponry.

Even so, the temptation to throw it all away and smash Plasmius' smug face against her boot was a strong one, stayed only by the fear of what would happen to her father if she tried.

“Phantom went squirrelly on me too,” she said. “I thought maybe I could get something from him, since we never ended that truce. But in the end, he was still just a ghost.”

She hadn't wanted to go to Phantom, in those days between Elle's escape and her decision to plunge into the Zone, had felt too much like would be admitting something, somehow, to do so. Had it not been for the fact that Phantom was her sole and only choice, she was sure she would never have asked at all.

Once she'd made the decision to do it, he'd been easy enough to track down. She found him—where else?—but In the middle of a fight, duking it out at altitude with one of the countless animal ghosts that regularly made their way across the paltry excuse for a veil stretched across Amity Park.

The fight had been easy, the conversation that came after it, much less so.

How could someone be alive and dead at the same time? Were they alive and dead at once? all the time? Did they alternate at will? Were they born? Were they made? How many were there? A lot? How did she spot a human-ghost if she saw it? Was there a way to tell? Or did you have to guess?

Phantom had been the one to tell her that these human-ghost, ghost-human things could exist in the first place, which had lead her to expect, rather despite herself, that perhaps he could explain them, too.

So it was only natural, really, that in that moment precisely, he had chosen to clam up. He knew nothing of these miraculous hybrids, could find out nothing concerning them, and as to finding them, he had no clue at all. Nevermind that it had been he who had first told her such beings were possible in the first place, the ghost was a veritable well of ignorance, utterly unable to aid in her pursuits.

“Ghosts are narrow minded and selfish, they go round everywhere like they've got blinkers on both sides of their head. You stick an idea in front of their nose, and they grab it if they like it, and shove it away if they don't. They don't consider where you got the idea from, they don't think about why its there, they don't even goddamn care why you picked it up in the first place. All that matters is somethings blocking their little slice of the world, theirs, specifically, 'cause they wouldn't never consider any other kind.

That was Phantom's problem, he wanted a truce yeah, but his way, not mine. A truce for beating things up, not a truce for trusting and talking or or anything that might give trouble to him. That wasn't how he wanted it to work.

He was even worse with Elle. She's the only other one I could talk to—not counting you, ma—who could tell me anything about anything about what was going on!

And Elle, I couldn't track her down. When she said she had places to be, I thought she meant like Phantom when there wasn't anything fun for him to hit, not just gone! I tried tracking her, I did, but it didn't work. Either staying human hides her, or she's run too far to track.

Stupid Phantom wouldn't help me with that, neither. It was just 'oh she's fine,' this and 'why do you care' that, like I can't worry about a human girl wondering on her own without nobody to make sure she's even fed!”

Not only had he been absurdly reluctant to answer her questions, but even had the audacity to wonder if they were at all related to her continued association with Plasmius. It was an insult, beyond all doubt, as though he didn't know how little choice she had.

As though he wasn't the one who forced her into making it.

“I guess so far as he figured, if Elle wasn't being kidnapped, then she was fine. It didn't matter that she's a kid, or alone, or was stealing apples just to eat. She was strong enough to survive on her own and not melt, and that was good enough for him. He just sat there when she left, too, watching her scat like any other ghost."

Did he know how far she intended to run, or simply fail to understand why he should care?

"No matter how well he thinks he means, Phantom can't help the human parts of her. Just because she could beat any man that tried to take doesn't mean that she doesn't get—scared, or lonely, or—“ Valerie wriggled uncomfortably in her pallet of dust. “—Or that she doesn't need people. Phantom can't give that, and Plasmius is a sick piece of shit, so that left me. Just me. If I let that go, then Elle'd be alone for real.”

The worry in her mother's gaze didn't lighten, exactly, but it did shift, consternation giving way to curiosity mixed with a hearty topping of concern. It was easy to imagine the question she would have asked, if she could but speak.

“Then what is it do you think you're doing all the way out here, hm?”

Valerie sighed. This, at least, she had a clear answer for.

“I'm on a mission. There's this thing called the infini-map. Don't have all the details, but with a name like that?” She scoffed, “don't need 'em. Whatever it is, its good enough to send Plasmius into a fit just at the idea of laying claws on it.

If I could get something like that, imagine, I could find Elle in a heartbeat. No more lookin', no more running blind and hoping for luck. And when I find her, I could use it get out from under Masters thumb for good. Use it, sell it, whatever, with that thing, it would be easy. Me and daddy could be set for life.”

At the time, the idea had seemed brilliant. With her search for Elle stymied, and rental payments approaching their inevitable due, she had latched onto the idea of a Ghost Zone mission the instant her so-called benefactor had brought it up. It was a chance to bleed “Mister Masters” of a little more of his money, without actually having to tolerate his presence for any length of time. Even better, it presented an opportunity to do right by her father while staying far away from the quiet anger, the soft, dispirited sense of regret that had seemed to overtake him as jobs remained scarce, and Valerie continued to hunt.

Perhaps most selfishly, it was the opportunity for the Red Huntress to become what Valerie had had always wanted her to be: A free agent, no puppet masters, no expectations, just the world, and herself within in it.

It was one thing she truly did not regret, even now, lying in the dirt looking up at the memory of a memory ripped to tatters in her hands. Whatever else happened in this strange, wild place, it was her decision, her choice. She was finally in control.

Thinking of control, there was another reason why she wanted to speed up her search for the ghost girl.

“Elle's a good kid, but she <i>is</i> a kid, with a ghost in her she don't even know to fear. I'm not sure how long she can fight it like that without anyone to tell her what's going on. She needs someone who knows about ghosts,who can show her how to fight back, 'cause if she doesn't, I'm not sure how long she'll last until she ends up Plasmius."

“Or Phantom.”

It was an ugly theory, but explained a great deal. The identical looks, the raw antipathy towards Vlad, in particular, or how a full ghost could see himself as related, somehow, to a being that was something so much more.

All ghosts came from somewhere, and Valerie rather doubted Elle was truly Plasmius' only attempt at capturing a hybrid of his own.

“'Cause I think they're the same kinda thing. It explains why Plasmius wanted her so bad, and they change the same way, too. They go from being a ghost, ectosignitures and all, to being alive. Not some fake, but breathing, heartbeats, everything. There's something in them that's really, truly alive.

Plasmius and Elle, they're both alive," she whispered, "but only Elle's human, and I don't know how long that's gonna last.

I can't stay stupid about all this ghost shit, neither. There's so much they won't tell me, and Elle's my ticket to figuring it out. If I can find her in time, I could fix it. Bring her to the Fentons, maybe, take out the ghost before it gets too big, make cash, move out me and daddy and Elle all together. Either way, this is how I do it, right here, right now. This is my chance.”

No more being lead around like a particularly witless donkey for his carrot wielding master, no more suppressing every violent impulse that threatened to take her over any time she chanced to look “Mister Masters” in his insufferable face, no more long, interminable periods of her nose against a grindstone day after day, scraping her fingers bloody against poverty's wall in the way her father seemed convinced was better, somehow, for all the pain it so obviously caused him.

“I know it's risky, but it's worth it, it's gotta be. If I can get the infinimap, then I can fix everything, all at once. I won't owe nobody nothing, and I can start fixing things again, for everyone.”

And perhaps her mother agreed, as the shadow that had gathered against her brow seemed to ease, relaxing back into something more serene.

Valerie smiled, running her thumb over the place where her face once was, pointedly ignoring the sensation of absence in favor of the smiling visage still shining across her display.

“See, I knew you'd see it my way.” Valerie was pretty sure she'd had to have gotten her sense of adventure from somewhere, after all. “It's hard, but I'm fine. And when this is all done, it'll be more than fine, it'll be better.

Just you wait.”

Overlay image: Session end.

The memory of Theresa Grey vanished slowly, victim of her daughter's own reluctance to see her go. But vanish she did, sunshine grew pale and laughter faded, memory crushed into data and erased of meaning, and Valerie was once again alone.

She sighed, finally allowing herself to lower the photograph as she reached over for her other parcels, which she began collecting into a small bundle atop her chest.

Technically, she could reach over to put her mother with her boots and rations instead of the other way around, but found herself suddenly disinclined to do so. Without the stress of the day to keep her going, she found exhaustion pushing down at her very bones, keeping her pressed against the meager comfort of her body warmed hollow of dirt.

No, lifting herself up as little as possible seemed a very enticing proposition indeed.

She grabbed both her boots, then her gloves, peeled off to reveal the same skintight leather which coated the rest of her, the remains of her wallet, and a single, battered bag, too smooth for leather, too thick for silk: All supplies from her earlier run in with the thieving insect from before, pared down to those goods and supplies she could actually use.

She chose not to dwell on how few of them there were.

Her mother came last, placed gently at the head of the pile, where she could look it over one last time.

She should have done this sooner, she knew, perhaps even the moment she entered the Zone. Keeping the photograph on her physical person was too much of a risk, one born of foolish sentiment and thoughtless desire. She had just wanted so badly to keep one good thing with her, somewhere tangible and real, she'd disregarded the threat she put it in.

Because if there was one thing death was guaranteed to do, it was steal everything and everyone it thought was yours.

Valerie placed her hands over the small collection, reaching once again into the inorganic hum prickling ever at the edges of her mind.

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A flick of her mental fingers, and it was done. Boots, bag, and all turned into their own kind of mist, dissolving into the small pocket dimension that followed her always, shadows diffusing into the surrounding light, the weight of them dissipating until nothing but the memory of their pressure remained.

Valerie brushed her fingers over the space they left behind, a half smile tugged at the corners of her trembling lips.

“Goodnight, Ma,” She whispered. A grief like seaglass hung heavy on her heart, smoothed over edges cut no longer, though the heft of its sorrow lay leaden even yet.

“Sleep good now, you hear?”

No voice answered in response.

Valerie no longer expected it to.

Deep in the realm of the dead, a figure turned on its side, curled against itself on its small outcropping of stone. Legs up to its chest, arms clenched tight around its shoulders as it heaved, breath by mortal breath, seeking some moment of repose.

[magicpotatothoughts]

REVIEW | My Thoughts on The Great Pretender

MENTIONS: Great Pretender spoilers, Into the Spiderverse spoilers

The first thought that came into my mind after finishing Great Pretender is "What a ride!" It's similar to going to a theme park, getting the front seat of your favourite roller coaster, not the one that scares you to the point where you might crap your paints, the one that gives you just enough of a raised heartbeat and with great set design and mechatronic pop-ups to enjoy going with your friends!

Maybe it's because I'm on an anime roll, but I finished the series in a day. The ride is fun and exciting so I'll try not to overthink too much for this anime and genuinely admit that, thank you Netflix and Wit Studio, that was pretty fun!

But of course, it would be unlike me to not at least share a few thoughts.

PLOT

What a thrill is what I firstly want to say! From episode one, seeing someone dangling off of a Hollywood sign, was so random and funny! Usually in a lot of anime, I always find that it is usually by the end of the first episode that a curiosity usually pops up but from the get go, Great Pretender was incredibly exciting.

The cliffhangers are a bit like repeated games of rock paper scissors where you keep thinking that it'll finally go the way that you predicted in the next episode only for it to not go where you thought it would go. It's reverse uno card on top of reverse uno card, and that was pretty fun I must say to experience.

I enjoyed how each of the arcs had such a different flavour to them due to the setting and the nature of each con idea. I thoroughly enjoyed the settings of crimes in all of the major cities of the world, different real world settings and presenting them in iconic lights made it feel like I was travelling (even though I am currently in lockdown). I don't know if that was intentional from the producers to create such a story but what perfect timing to have this anime released in 2020. My favourite arc would have to be Snow of London arc because the corruption within the antagonist was a romantic betrayal, paralleling the focus on Cynthia's past, which she also experienced a different sense of romantic betrayal. The final scene of her bidding was absolutely touching, and really highlights how 'priceless' she feels her ex's paintings actually are.

It's good that the pacing of the story is fast but sometimes I feel like it's a bit too fast, I wished they revelled in certain moments, even just a second longer, especially the schemes that cut right before the Ending Credits, it makes it hard to catch what someone said because of the constant language, setting changes.

A good con story is hard to get right. This is an anime, so of course I expected that there were moments that seemed unrealistic. During the final arc, I liked how they pulled off the last crime but the antagonists feel a bit too gullible, especially with the translator. They had such a good set-up with Liu explaining the importance of translators and how things get lost in translation, only for them to fall so easily for such outright mistranslations of the trade between Japan and Shanghai, it's just a little unbelievable especially because the two languages do share certain phonetic similarities. They could have done a smarter "lost-in-translation" scenario with similar sounding words or words with double meanings. Or they also had a really good set-up on Majong, where they could have pulled a 'Crazy Rich Asian' Rachel move where they make the trade over playing Majong and therefore tie cultural meanings and values of each head Mafia with the hand that they are playing.

One thing I must say is that me comparing Great Pretender to family-friendly thrill ride also means that sometimes I feel like it's playing it too safe to the point where by the last arc, I suspected that no one was gonna die. There were so many times where people died (as well as in flashbacks of con plans) and then came back that I suspected that for the tone of this anime, the producers were not likely to kill off anyone in the main cast. Andddd I was right! I'm not saying that this is a bad thing because having that 'safety net' probably bumps up the rewatch value of this anime on Netflix, but I felt like it lacked the emotional magnetism (even if it's just a little) that a good adventure crime story should have offered. Of course that's a fine line to ride, to balance the dark with the lighter moments. What I am trying to say is because everything in this Season is so 'full-circle' (and with the knowledge that Dorothy is alive), I suspect Netflix will try and make a 2nd season, and if they decide to pull a dark card out of no where, the audience might not be very happy about that. See Netflix? Having something slightly dark happen in Season 1 gives you options for Season 2 to change the tone if your audience starts getting used to the same death-act con tricks.

One could argue that I'm absolutely nitpicking at a 'feel-good' story, but I don't think so since Great Pretender did delve into much darker topics such as war trauma and child trafficking, I think it is asking for the audience to expect something darker to come out of this anime.....Ok it sounds like I'm complaining, but honestly I really did enjoy each of the arcs, a different flavour, a different trade and how it operates, that was interesting to watch!

CHARACTER

The characters are pretty fun. I did like that each arc focused on the backstory of a different character. And the character's backstories are pretty interesting! I don't think, at least not in my experience, I've seen a POC woman character with a military background and her trauma.

It's also really nice to see such a variety of confident characters, too often I see anime characters that's stereotyped as shy, confident, outgoing, nerdy etc. It was nice to see a range of people who didn't always hesitate before they spoke and sort of did what they wanted.

I also have to commend how this anime dealt with LGBTQIA+ characters. Laurent is clearly bi, as Cynthia in one scene mentions "Why are you flirting with me? Aren't you after Edamame?", but it's part of his flirtatious character rather than that part of him being a main character development struggle or identity crisis. I hope other production companies and studios take note because this is GOOD REPRESENTATION, normalising the existence of LGBTQIA+ people as just people with many different facets to them.

Ok I do have two thoughts, first is, I wish the women were once again a bit more developed and complex. Abby was this daring, aloof badass and yes it was cool to see her arc that she's suffering from war trauma, I felt like that could have gotten so much more in depth. Her getting over her parents dying from a simple apology from the man who bombed Bagdad was not the best handled in my opinion. And same with Cynthia, she falls into the typical con woman trope where she gets hurt over a man to become the badass con artist that she is. I loved her arc, but I wished they went to more depth about when she felt like she became a failure of an actress, rather than the break-up being the catalyst to her being a con-woman. Women in this show is either broken or validated by a man to regain self-confidence or soften to accept love.....It's an overly repeated trope....

Both women use their sex appeal to an extent in their con schemes, it would have been interesting to see perhaps a woman character that doesn't rely on that, or is simply, a badass con woman without any sort of tragic backstory but maybe exists for the thrill of tricking people? Hahahah maybe my love for Johan from MONSTER is accidentally slipping through here hahaha.......

But then again, I must say, Edamame.....had so much character potential. When he snapped in the final arc, and him slowly smoking, slowly building affections for the Japan Mafia chair who also likes cats like his mother, he had so much potential to develop into a complicated antagonist! Especially because I felt so sorry for him that SINCE THE BEGINNING, Laurent kind of got him into a life of crime and time and time again, Edamame got dragged back into this mess. When he snapped, I was finally like, "oh is this it? Is this when it's gonna get interesting?" only to find out that he was in on the trick all along. They finally slowed the pace down, showed how broken he was after committing patricide, him snapping again, only then to be like "oh PSYCHE! Just kidding" I hope that if Netflix does develop a Season 2, that they add little hints of how being a con artist is actually affecting these characters. It would be interesting to see if living a life of pretending to be someone else causes them any sort of identity/morality crisis......

Hahahah and here I've said I'll not overthink it, I know this was an anime for the masses hahaha

SOUND

Great Pretender has the best treatment of language I've ever seen in any anime. So just for reference, I watched the sub. The English was well-pronounced for English-speaking characters, MANDARIN was EXTREMELY well done, even down to the way certain things are expressed, and according to my Duolingo-trained ear for french, the French sounded pretty legit to me at least. Accents were used let the audience know more about the characters, language barriers were used for comedic and plot devices.

Music was a breath of fresh air! I loved the jazzy opening, it gave old James Bond vibes and the ED of Great Pretender by Freddy Mercury. The other bgm were a mix of rap, pop, jazz, classical, I think even indie at some points. It's a wonderfully eclectic soundtrack that added to the changing contexts and arcs within the anime. However at some points, I felt like there was too much music than necessary to a point of sensory overload, at least for me. There were colourful animations, crazy action and motions and not a lot of silences to take in dialogue. But I don't know if it's just because I'm not used to hearing certain genres in anime therefore the music was a lot more noticeable to me to the point of being slightly distracting or if it's actually a thing.

As expected of Netflix and Wix studio, voice actors and music performance on the whole were magnificent.

ANIMATION

THE MOST BEAUTIFUL BACKGROUNDS to ever exist in the anime realm. How is it that not only the city landscapes and extravagant venues, but toilets, graveyards and hospitals are so aesthetically pleasing??!!! The Animation takes on a psychedelic colour scheme, not sure if to allude to the high and thrill of crime, but it's stunning. It automatically made me think of the Spiderman: Into the Spiderverse colour palette with hints of that comic book layerred background style. In some moments, I swear that there is so much detail in the animation that they are a click away from a CGI render, that's how beautiful it is.

SPIDERMAN vs. GREAT PRETENDER

Action scenes were tastefully done as expected of Wit Studio who did Attack on Titan, I really enjoyed the car chases and the explosions etc. Lots of action is not necessarily something that I always enjoy so that was actually fun to watch.

I did like the inclusion of POC characters though, that was really nice to see. Which kind of makes me a bit sad to say that the character designs were a bit bland. Edamame looks like those typical harem main characters, maybe it was just to set-up how underwhelming he looks to highlight his skills as a con artist. But even Cynthia looks like every other mature sex-appeal woman anime character. The colourful backgrounds are nice but it dulled the look of the characters. But this is just the first season, I hope Edamame keeps his swept back hair look, it really suits him.

All in all, I still really liked it! I wonder if it's because of Monster that now I can't turn off the analytical part of my brain and I'm just going crazy. If a season 2 comes out, yeah I'll still watch it. It's a nice ride, I want to go on it again :)

[alicanta77]

Chapter 1: Tomorrow Never Dies

Pairing: y/n x Jeno

Themes: mutant au, angst, fluff

Warnings: mind control, experiments performed on people, needles, violence, minor character death, blood, descriptions of injury, swearing

Words: 14k

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Finale

——————————————————————————

The repetitive high pitched beeping drew you out of your heavy sleep. You winced as the ceiling light switched on automatically, the brightness glaring down at you. You heard a groan from your roommate, signalling that he was also awake. You lay there for a second, your eyes trying to adjust, before pulling yourself up into a sitting position.

You turned your head towards the boy on your left, wincing once again as your neck cracked loudly. His eyes moved towards you, one eyebrow raised questioningly.

‘Lab last night?’ He asked, the three words asking the question that all of you dreaded.

Did they take you into the lab last night? Did they experiment on you? What did they do to you? What do you remember? Do you remember anything?

‘Yep.’ You muttered. ‘Routine 2b.’

It was Jeno’s turn to wince at your revelation. He knew that 2b was a painful routine that they could put you through, involving a lot of needles and a heavy focus on your neck.

You simply let out a dry chuckle and shrugged, a short yet sharp pain shooting through your neck and upper back as you did so.

‘Still feeling it?’ He asked again, clearly noticing your obvious discomfort.

‘How could you tell?’ You gave him a small smile, a sad but familiar one that was always exchanged between the two of you the morning after a visit to the lab.

The door of your cell buzzed, signalling that it was open, and in walked a single guard. He was wearing protective gear from head to toe, from thick boots, to a bullet proof vest, to his gloves, all the way to the helmet covering his face. You never knew who was behind all the gear, having never seen the face of a single guard in this facility for as long as you’d been here. The pistol strapped to his boot, or the knife at his side, or even the machine gun across his back probably should have scared you, but when that’s all you’ve known, you don’t see anything wrong with it.

Besides, you’re only in this facility to protect the outside world from dangers like you. The facility you’re in holds some of the most dangerous people in the world. The upper levels of the facility held criminals, each getting more threatening as you ventured down through the floors of the building. Those arrested for petty theft or vandalism were kept at the top, then the serial killers and mass murders were contained one floor above the bottom. You were kept in the most secured sub basement section of the facility. The lowest possible layer. You were watched at all time by guards and cameras, taken into labs for tests and experiments. Doctors would perform these on you, taking samples and notes, figuring out how to help you control yourselves.

The sub section you were kept in held around 150 people, most of them teenagers and young adults like you. You were different, called mutants of some kind. That was the closest you had ever come to an actual answer about what you were. What you did know was that you had abilities, something that the average human didn’t have, and that was what made you dangerous. Out of all the years you had been here, you had only managed to figure out a few other subject’s abilities. The seven other boys you shared your area with, to be exact.

You first found out about your roommate, Lee Jeno, subject A7, weather manipulation. He could create a storm by narrowing his eyes or make the sun shine brighter by simply smiling. His abilities were often affected by his emotions. The happier he was, the easier it was to create a sunny environment, but when he was angry or frustrated, he often found it difficult to control the storm that started brewing. There was something oddly poetic about his abilities though. This thought occurred to you the one and only time you saw him cry. To this day, you still have no idea what happened to break his heart like that, but, you watched one day as the guard pulled him aside and delivered some news. The next thing you knew, Jeno had collapsed to the ground, sobs tearing from his chest. Even though you were inside, rain droplets started to fall on your head. It was as if the sky had decided to cry with him. 

There was Mark Lee, subject A3, healing and super speed. Apparently it’s incredibly rare to have more than one ability. That’s why they call Mark Lee the ‘Golden Boy’. He often finds the world running at a pace that was too slow for him, his naturally faster system getting bored easily. He would spend some time running laps around the training room faster than you could blink. His healing skill is the one he has most trouble with. It doesn’t come as easily to him as his speed does. Instead, he has to learn it. Without thinking much, he can mend cuts and fade bruises, and, when he really focuses, he finds a way to stop serious pain or bleeding, and often pulls the body back together slightly.

Next, Huang Renjun, subject D9, image manipulation. He is the hardest to get a read on. You often can’t tell if he’s really in front of you, or if it’s simply just an image of him. He can make you see anything he wants you to see. Whether that is an empty training room when there’s actually ten people in there, or if it’s suddenly transporting you to a beach in the Caribbean. He seems to have the most control over his abilities out of all of you. Focusing now on making multiple people see what he wants them to, rather than just an individual.

After him, Lee Donghyuck, subject B5, he sees the future. No one knows how much he can see or how accurate it is, but he always know more than you do. You often think that he knows a lot more than he’s letting on. He likes to use his ability for trivial things, like telling people what’s for lunch or what to expect in training today. He has a much more serious and caring side to him though. You suspect that he uses his ability to keep an eye on your emotions as somehow, he always seems to know when you’re having a bad day.

Also, Na Jaemin, subject D2, mind control. Sweet as sugar but just as artificial, he could send you the deadliest smile, all while secretly enticing you into doing something for him. Normally it’s nothing drastic, fetching his lunch for him or asking a guard the question he doesn’t want to. But you never know when he’ll get bored of that and make you do something you really don’t want to. You always make sure to keep him on your good side. Similar to Donghyuck, no one really knows the true extent of his powers, making him even more mysterious. Even the guards seem nervous of him because you can never quite tell when he’s enchanting you, not until it’s too late.

Then comes Zhong Chenle, subject C6, a shapeshifter. Can transform easily if he’s looking at the animal, harder if he has to remember it and really has to focus if he wants to take on the form of another human. He always seems to be in a good mood. How he manages that you have no idea, but you’re always thankful. He takes the whole situation less seriously than the others. Choosing to randomly turn into birds and fly into the guards helmets or run up their legs as a mouse. No matter what, he always manages to make you laugh. 

And finally, Park Jisung, subject D4, super strength. Not exactly what you would expect the boy to have, considering his personality. He seems too sweet for this reality. He always wants the best for people and sees the good in everyone. Sometimes, you wish that you could have that mindset. He’s such a pure soul that you often forget he could squish you in between his fingers like a fly if you weren’t careful. He constantly seemed to forget that he was incredibly strong, often banging the table when laughing and knocking off a leg, or clapping Hyuck on the back and sending him sprawling to the floor. He was a bit clumsy but had a heart of gold.

Rounding out the floor, there was you, subject A1, telekinesis. You could move a glass simply by looking at it, pick something up by blinking or shake your head and watch the overhead lights swing. If you focused hard you could lift or move heavier things, but moving people took almost all of your energy. Like Jeno, your emotions affect how powerful you were. Unlike with Renjun and Chenle who seem to lose control the angrier or more emotional or worked up they get, with Renjun’s images flickering and Chenle shifting uncontrollably from animal to animal, you and Jeno seem to be able to do more. Jeno could make a thunder storm powerful enough to blow the windows out by clenching his jaw and you could lift impossibly heavy objects and even throw them. Pushing people to the side also only took a slight flick of your hand. Sometimes your powers scared yourself. What would you do if one day you lost control and hurt someone you loved? If you were already dangerous enough to be locked in a facility like this, what would that make you? You would be worse than a monster.

As well as sharing the same floor with you, you also shared the same training room and dining hall. You even shared the same lab. It terrified you every time you walked into or past it and got a glimpse of the blood coating the doctor’s hands from their previous procedures.

The guard back out of your doorway, keeping an eye on the two of you at all times. You tilted your head to the left slightly, narrowing your eyes at him, watching as the guard’s moves sped up. He tripped over his own feet slightly in a bid to leave the room as fast as possible, causing both you and Jeno to burst out laughing when the door was shut.

‘You really have to stop doing that. It’s mean.’ Jeno lightly scolded you, the smile still present on his face.

‘Oh please, I am nowhere near as bad as Chenle. You know, Jisung told me that the last time the guard went into their room, Chenle had hidden himself as a moth under the bed, and then dropped in front of the poor guard and turned himself into a bear.’ You recited the story of yesterday morning to Jeno’s disbelieving face. ‘It’s true! Besides, at least we get to wake up to a smile on our faces.’

‘Yeah, you have a point.’ He paused for a second before giggling again. ‘Chenle is ruthless.’

You couldn’t help but laugh as well, treasuring the rare moments like this. Moments where everything seemed ok, seemed normal, and you could enjoy life and laugh with friends as if nothing else was wrong. However, those moments only ever last a few seconds.

The speakers in your room buzzed to life as a voice cracked through them.

‘All subjects to the rose room in five minutes. All subjects to the rose room in five minutes.’

You both looked at each other and sighed, before climbing out of your beds and grabbing the clothes provided. The guards come in every morning to drop them off. A simple grey jumpsuit, that was all you wore, everyday. You grabbed yours and headed into the bathroom to change. You pulled it on and spared yourself a short look in the mirror. The dark bags around your eyes were prominent, as were the small red dots on your neck. The only traces of what you went through the previous night. You rubbed them, trying to soften the aching before turning to leave the bathroom.

You knocked on the door, waiting for a shout from Jeno to say that it was okay for you to come out, before exiting. Together you waited for the trademark low pitched buzz that signalled your cell door being unlocked, and headed out into the hallway.

As you left you spotted the doctor waiting by your door. The other cells on your floor made the same low pitched buzz, and, gradually, out walked the other six boys. There were doctors positioned by each door, prepared with an injection. You received it every day, a numbing agent, that dulled your abilities for a period of time. It was given to you in the morning, allowing you to do your work and have lunch before it wore off and you went to your training sessions. 

The doctor extended a gloved hand to you, silently asking for your arm. You handed it to her and she rolled up your sleeve. She turned over your wrist and held you by the elbow as she positioned the syringe just below the joint.

The syringe wasn’t the kind they used in the labs. It wasn’t glass with a long metal needle on one end, it was thicker, something that had to be properly gripped with a button on the top to administer whatever was inside.

The doctor gave you no warning before she pushed the button and you winced as the machine let out a hiss, injecting the blue serum into you. You watched as she held out a hand to Jeno and repeated the same procedure. You blinked slowly a few times, the effects of the drug already taking hold.

‘Make your way to the rose room. Now.’ A guard to your left barked.

You turned robotically, your mind fuzzy and clouded. You began the journey to the rose room, your entire being occupied with the simple task of getting there. You had no thought process, no questions running around your mind, you weren’t thinking of anything. You just did what you were told.

You walked down with Jeno by your side, the white walls and floors passing you by with every step you took. You vaguely registered Jaemin joining you in your peripheral vision, but you didn’t turn to look at him. You kept your head straight, your face emotionless and your mouth shut. None of you looked at each other, none of you looked anywhere but straight ahead, and none of you uttered a word. None of you gave an inclination that you were more that walking robots, fully compliant and prepared to carry out any instruction given.

Because, in reality, under this drug, that was all that you were reduced to. You just didn’t realise the danger of that yet.

---

The door to the rose room was already open when you arrived, a guard standing there holding it for you. You didn’t spare a look towards him, your dull eyes kept focus on what was in front of you. You trudged towards your position, finding the spot labelled with your subject number and began your work.

The rose room was a large greenhouse. Inside it was a maze of rose bushes, sporting roses of all kinds and colours. If you were more awake then maybe you would appreciate the reds, blue, yellows and purples a lot more, but in your zombified state, you only knew work. In the middle of the room, however, was a large conveyer belt. 

Your job was to extract certain things from these roses, place them on the conveyer belt, and move onto the next thing. You did this for three hours in the morning everyday.

It was only in the rose room that you saw more of the subjects that were kept in the facility. You were just conscious enough to be aware of the girl and boy on either side of you, and of the fact that you didn’t recognise them.

However, you were blissfully unaware of the guards stalking through the rows of you. They stopped by the boy on your left and grabbed him by the shoulders. You didn’t register the guards movements. You didn’t register the boy being violently yanked out of his position. You didn’t register him being dragged down the halls. You didn’t register his screams.

You did your work.

---

Due to the numbing agent of the serum, time didn’t seem to exist during your work and lunch, so, before you knew it, it was time to train. 

The training room was a very large open space, with an area of it dedicated to a certain activity. Your training works in a circuit. Each of you has an individual routine, specific activities and exercises to work on each day that are tailored towards your abilities. As well as the ability training, you all have fitness training and agility and other physical exercises to complete as well. You weren’t sure what you were training for, but you had been doing it all your life.

Yesterday you had been working on distance training. This was one exercise that was centred around your ability and focused on you trying to move the same object from a further distance each time. It was repetitive and mentally draining, but always gave you good results. Since that was yesterday, it meant that today you were working on your physical agility and assisting it with your abilities. It involved things such as jumping from narrow beams and using your telekinesis to help and support your movements.

You always began without using abilities, trying it by yourself so that you knew where you needed to direct your energy. You started on two long beams that were only around two feet off the floor, and you simply jumped between them, trying to keep your balance. You had to make your way down them while jumping from one to the other, speeding up each time you completed it.

Then, once the instructor watching you was satisfied, you were told to use your abilities. You now used telekinesis to manipulate the air around you to help you jump. It made you jump further and faster, also with safer landings. You continued with this for a short while before the instructor stopped you.

‘Right, now let’s actually put it to the test.’ They said, turning away from you.

You watched them, confused, bending over slightly with you hands on your knees as you tried to catch your breath. You had been hoping for a break so that you could rest briefly but you had no such luck. Your instructor turned around and pointed above them.

‘Up you go’ They said nonchalantly. You followed to where they were pointing and you let out a breath of disbelief. Above you, hanging from the ceiling, were thin beams that were swaying the the minute breeze cause by the movement.

‘You’ve gotta be kidding me.’ You thought. But you instructor simply looked at you expectantly and you knew that you weren’t getting out of this. All the other boys were drawing to a close with their exercises, which didn’t go unnoticed by your instructor, so they decided to make a small change to their plan.

‘You get through this once, and then we’re done for the day. Okay?’ They said, nodding with a smile that was anything but friendly.

You took a deep breath and climbed the stairs to the side of the room. On the way up you looked down and watched as Jisung finished his final exercise, meaning that all the boys were officially done. You reached the top and looked out in front of you.

The beams were much thinner than those you had been working on below, and, not to mention, the ropes holding them up looked suspiciously frail. They creaked as they moved and the wooden beams swayed gently in front of you. You knew that you weren’t getting out of here without completing this task, so you jumped.

The first jump was easy. It wasn’t even half a meter long and your telekineses helped you to keep the beam steady. You took careful steps, wincing every time the beam creaked underneath your weight. The ropes groaned as you moved but you kept going, knowing that slowing down would be more dangerous. 

You cleared the second jump again, with a little more effort required, but you couldn’t quite figure out why it was more difficult. You made you way across this one swiftly, keeping you steps as light as possible due to the trembling ropes. The last thing you wanted was to fall now. It wasn’t until you reached the third jump that you realised why it was getting harder.

The jumps were getting bigger.

You swallowed, risking a look down and seeing the seven boys watching you carefully. You took a shaky breath, keeping your eyes on them as you saw Jeno give you a nod of encouragement. You nodded back and lifted your head, determined to finish this. You focused your mind on using the air around you and pictured pushing the particles together to form a barrier. You jumped forward and used that barrier to lift you slightly higher. You let out a sigh of relief when you cleared the distance, but you relaxed too early as you hadn’t taken into account the weight of you landing.

The ropes creaked dangerously loudly and you watched in fear as they began to fray. You knew you had to finish this quickly, or else you would be taking the quick way down. You took step after step, walking as fast as you possibly could to reach the second to last jump. You lifted off again, this time with less preparation due to you worry of the beam snapping, and you almost didn’t make it. You landed, roughly on the edge of the beam, holding onto it desperately in an attempt to pull yourself up.

You could hear the worried intakes of breath from the boys below you, but they didn’t say a thing. They weren’t allowed to. Interfering with another subject’s training had painful repercussions. 

‘Come on y/n.’ You heard Jaemin’s voice echo through your head. You spared a look down to find him looking at you intently. You realised that he must be using his abilities to speak with you telepathically. You didn’t know he could do that. ‘Pull yourself up. You can do this.’

You forced yourself to focus, using your ability to help your legs up and you got onto the beam. You had just straightened up when it started to shake, the ropes of the verge of breaking.

‘Run!’ Jaemin’s voice shattered your dazed mind and you took off. One foot in front of the other, just trying to reach the end. You only had two jumps left to make, one to the final beam and one to the solid platform at the end with the stairs to take you back down to the safety of the ground. 

You launched off the beam and onto the final one, the impact of your landing causing the ropes to tremble. You began to run and they properly gave out. You felt the beam beneath you begin to give way and you placed a final foot as close to the edge as you could, and leaped.

You used your ability the best you could, but you could tell that you weren’t going to make it. Then you felt a sudden gust of air push you up slightly, allowing you to just clear the distance and land in a heap, safely on the other side. 

You lay there on the ground for a second, catching your breath. The instructor’s voice echoed around the training room.

‘Head back to your cells! We’re done for the day!’

---

You and Jeno were making your way back to your cell after dinner. The events of the training room hadn’t left your mind. That final gust of air had saved you. And you knew that it had to have come from Jeno. No one else could do that.

‘Hey Jeno?’ You asked, keeping your eyes on the floor as you walked.

He hummed in response.

‘Thank you for earlier. I don’t know what I would have done without you.’ You said honestly.

He stopped you walking, forcing you to look at him.

‘You don’t ever need to thank me. I’ve got your back and you’ve got mine. No matter what, we’re always gonna protect each other yeah?’

You nodded, a smile etching its way onto your face.

‘Yeah.’

You kept walking, turning the corner into your corridor that your cell was near the other end of. On the way to your cell, you passed the lab with its door open. You looked into it as you passed and stopped in your tracks. Donghyuck was on the operating table they had in the middle of the room, being restrained by two guards as he whimpered and resisted. You watched as they clamped metal restraints over his wrists and ankles, keeping him in place. A doctor began to approach him with a scalpel in his hand when the two of you were noticed. The doctor gestured towards the guard who reach forward and slammed the door shut, the lock clicking afterwards.

You and Jeno shared a sad look. The familiar whirring noise of the doctor’s instruments radiated through the door and you winced. You both recognised that sound and knew what Donghyuck was about to be put though. Jeno’s arm came up to your back to begin to guide you back to your shared cell. You accepted and walked with him. You knew that there was nothing you could do.

You hadn’t even got halfway down the corridor before Donghyuck began to scream.

---

9 days had passed since your last lab visit, meaning that you would be back in there tonight. And you were. You hadn’t even finished eating when the guards came to collect you. The other boys watched you sadly as you were escorted away.

You lay down on the operating table waiting for them to proceed. You felt the two guards approach you and you instinctively began to draw yourself away.

‘Strap her down. We don’t have time for this.’ The doctor instructed, frustration already present in his tone.

The guard stepped towards you again, grabbing your hands and pushed them down onto the table you were lying at. He ignored your begs and pleads to let you go and, instead, clamped the metal restraints down over your wrists. He repeated this process with your feet, effectively locking you in place.

You struggled against the cuffs with all you might but couldn’t budge one bit. You were used to being cuffed at your wrists and ankles, but it was when the guard approached you with a large belt, strapping your stomach to the table, that you really began to freak out. Your whole body thrashed from side to side as you tried to break free, but eventually, you found yourself unable to move.

The doctor leaned forward and pushed the guard out of the way. You noticed that, for the first time, there were three doctors preparing to work on you, rather than the normal one. This, and the intense measures that they went to to ensure that you couldn’t move, caused your fear to shoot through the roof.

‘The new procedure today Doc?’ One of the younger doctors asked.

‘Yes. We should be able to get some good data.’ The doctor leaning over you answered. 

You whimpered slightly, terrified of what was about to happen. The doctor leaned further over you, adjusting the scalpel in his hand. You tried to move away from it, but you had no power. The other two doctors held you head and chest, exposing you neck.

You felt the small knife make a long incision on the back of your neck and you couldn’t stop the scream that ripped from your throat. Something was on this knife that was making it unbelievably painful.

‘Don’t panic, she’s just reacting to the acid that’s on the tools.’ The first doctor’s voice cut through.

Acid.

Whatever was happening to you, it was going to be the most painful experience of your life.

And it was.

You screamed and thrashed and sobbed, trying everything you could to escape the merciless torture that was being inflicted upon you. You were cut in areas, injected, and hit with other objects. The doctors measured you reactions to each of these and took notes on how your body reacted.

You eventually transcended the level of pain, you body and mind too broken for you to register the full extent of what you were going through. You couldn’t even scream anymore, your lungs and vocal cords exhausted from the amount you’d used them in the previous hours.

‘Ok that’s enough.’ You heard a voice say. You tried to pry your eyes open to see who was speaking, but you couldn’t move. You could barely even focus on the words that were being said.

‘It’s not your job to tell us what to do.’ You recognised the main doctor’s voice.

The previous voice replied again. ‘It’s my job to keep them alive. Now stop.’

You managed to pry open your eyes and noticed a guard standing in front of the doctor, staring him down. You could’t process what was going on. The guards never stood up for you.

However, something in the guard’s words made the doctor turn back towards you, and when he saw the state that you were in, he swore.

‘Fuck.’ The words left his mouth softly and he suddenly began to rummage through the drawers. ‘Save the data, we need to eradicate this experience. She couldn’t take as much as we thought she could.’

The younger doctor’s voice piped up, a sentence that sent a chill down your spine. ‘We could try it on subject A3. The higher levels of speed mean that he heals faster, we would probably get further on him.’

‘Good idea.’ The first doctor replied.

Subject A3... Mark.

‘Now this is going to wake her up for about thirty seconds before knocking her out again. But she still isn’t going to have control over her limbs so you need to get her back to her cell, understand?’

You assumed the doctor was talking to the guard, but your eyes had closed again. The weight of your eyelids being too much to hold open in your current state. You tried to protest as the doctor tiled your head to the side, but all that came out was a choked whine. You hissed as the needle pierced your skin and something was injected into you.

You head spun violently as your body registered the new drug and you felt as though you were going to throw up. Your eye shot open as you gulped for air, your newly freed arms coming up to scratch at you throat.

Not even two seconds later, your entire body was numb. You couldn’t move, stand or pick yourself up even if you wanted to. The guard approached you, holding one of your arms over his shoulder and supporting your waist with the other. He lifted you up and walked you out of the door. Until the doctor’s voice caused a sudden stop to his movements

‘Ten? Not a word of this to anyone.’

The guard, Ten, didn’t move, didn’t even turn back to look at the doctor, but he didn’t need to in order to understand the threat. He made his way down the corridor, swearing as you slipped slightly from his grip. You watched the floor begin to spin under you feet as you were carried back to your cell. He finally reached the door, swiping his key card in the lock and kicking it open before throwing you back inside.

Your limp body hit the floor with a hard thud and the door closed behind the guard as he exited, locking with a click and a buzz. The ceiling spun above you and you couldn’t move to pull yourself up from the floor to get to your bed. You just registered Jeno’s worried face coming into your vision when it all went black.

---

You woke to the same high pitched beeping you did every morning. This time, however, to the view of Jeno’s head on your bed too. He had fallen asleep on the floor, watching over you throughout the night.

He stirred slightly, groaning as the beeping woke him from his slumber. He lifted his head, turning suddenly to look at you, his eyes widening when he saw that you were awake.

‘Y/n? Are you okay?’ He asked, concern etched on his features.

You opened your mouth to speak, but all that came out was a hoarse croak. You throat burned from the previous night and you winced at the pain. Jeno stood quickly, running into the bathroom to get you a glass of water. He came back and handed it you, watching as you gulped it down.

‘What did they do to you?’ He whispered, watching you form sadly. 

‘I don’t know.’ You whispered back, unable to speak any louder.

The door buzzed open and a guard walked in, the number 10 easily visible on the strap on his upper right arm. He placed the new grey jumpsuits on the end of your bed began to walk away again. The guard stopped in the doorway and turned back.

‘The rose room has been cancelled.’ He informed the two of you. ‘Instead, you train in the morning, then go for lunch and have a free afternoon. Get out of bed y/n.’

Both yours and Jeno’s heads shot towards the guard as he left, the two of you frozen in shock as the door locked shut.

‘Tell me you heard that too.’ Jeno breathed.

‘Yep.’ You confirmed, your brain running at a mile a minute.

‘They never address us by our names.’ He stated, and he was right. You were always addressed by subject number, nothing else.

‘Yep.’ You repeated.

‘Only by subject number.’

‘Yep.’

‘What do you think it means?’ He asked, turning away from the shut door to look at you.

‘I don’t know.’ You shook your head, your eyes still locked on the cell door that was staring back at you.

‘Why was it only you?’ Jeno wondered aloud.

‘I don’t know.’ You knew about as much as Jeno did so you honestly had no idea why he was asking you all these questions.

‘How do you feel about it?’

You paused, not knowing how to answer the final question that, for some reason, made your blood run cold. You turned to look at him.

‘... I don’t know.’

---

You and Jeno were the last to enter the training room. You both scanned the guards surrounding you all, but when none of them had the number 10 on their armour, you shared a disappointed look. Before arriving, you had decided to keep a look out for that guard, to see if there was something that separated him from the others. Something you could notice that would give you a reason as to why he used your name rather than your number. Once the eight of you were in the room, the guards turned and left, shutting the door behind them. You all stared at the shut door, then at each other. You had never been left alone in the training room before. Never.

What was wrong with this day?

You walked towards the physical agility station, confused when you saw Chenle standing there, preparing for his training. You weren’t sure why he was there when it was your turn for that station. He turned around when you approached him, his confused features mirroring your own.

‘Umm I’m meant to be on this station today.’ You informed him, not quite understanding why he didn’t already know that. You had all been on this training timetable for as long as you could remember.

‘No you’re not.’ Chenle replied bluntly, staring at you as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

‘Yeah, I am.’ Chenle shook his head at you but you persisted. ‘Yes, I am! I was on distance training yesterday so now I’m on this. Aren’t you on strength and conditioning?’ You stared at him expectantly but instead watched as worry spread across his face.

‘Y/n...’ His voice was low, quite as if he wasn’t sure how to tell you this. ‘You did physical agility three days ago.’

‘What do you mean?’ You asked, unable to quite wrap your mind around this new piece of information.

‘I mean you did this activity three days ago.’ He repeated, his eyes widening with worry. ‘Don’t you remember?’

You shook your head and took a shaky step back. By this point the other boys had begun to notice the conversation between the two of you, prompting them to come over and see what was wrong. Jeno placed a hand on your should, having just overheard the last two sentences.

‘Y/n, what do you remember?’ He looked you straight in the eyes.

‘I don’t know.’ You repeated the words you had already said multiple times today, fear and frustration growing. 

‘What did they do to you in that lab?’ He questioned, desperate for an answer.

‘I don’t know.’ You could hear the emotion creeping out in your voice.

‘Think!’ Jeno said, shaking you by the shoulders gently.

‘I don’t know! I don’t remember!’ You raised your voice, your body beginning to shake. All of the other boys stared at you in horror and you fell into Jeno’s hug whispering a scared. ‘Why don’t I remember?’

It was Jaemin’s voice that spoke the words you were all thinking but too afraid to say, scared of what it would mean for you all.

‘They wiped her memory.’

---

You eyes opened to the harsh light above you as the same rhythmic beeping woke you up. Even though you have woke up to the same noise for as long as you can remember, it still drives you insane to listen to it.

You rolled over, pulling your pillow over your head as you waited for it to stop. You felt a weight on the side of your bed and hands gently pull the pillow off your face. You opened one eye to be greeted with Jeno’s smiling face. You couldn’t help but let out a smile at the little crescents his eyes made each time he smiled. It always managed to make you happy as well.

You rolled onto your back and shut your eyes again, pulling one arm over to help block out some of the light that was still making its way though. Jeno’s hand came up to rub your arm comfortingly.

‘How are you feeling today?’ He asked, his voice slightly raspy from just having woken up.

You groaned out as a response

‘I don’t know. Better, I guess. We talked about it a lot yesterday which helped. At least now we know how much I’m missing.’

You removed your arm from your eyes and looked at the boy above you who was nodding.

‘Three days, including an entire visit to the lab. We have to assume that something happened that they didn’t want you to remember.’ He mused, the logical and rational side of his brain showing.

‘But what?’ You wondered. It annoyed you so much that the only person who had these answers was you, and you couldn’t even remember them.

The cell door buzzed and a guard walked in. You lifted your head to get a look at his number. 23. No luck. He threw the jumpsuits onto the end of your bed and then proceeded to stare at the two of you.

‘Stay apart. No need to be that close.’ He ordered, but neither of you moved. ‘I said, keep distance between the two of you. Stay on your own bed!’ 

He took a step forward, as if he was preparing to pull the two of you away from each other, but you acted faster. You threw your hand out, making a pushing motion and watched as the guard flew out of the door, landing on his bum a few feet back. 

He stumbled to his feet, attempting to stammer out an insult or some other kind of attempt to show off his power, but instead just settled on slamming the door shut. 

The lock buzzed and Jeno turned to look at you, shock and amazement clear on his face.

‘How did you manage that? That took almost no effort.’

You sighed.

‘I’m tired.’

Jeno’s brows furrowed at your reply.

‘But you’re like me in that being tired means it takes more effort and focus to use your abilities.’

You nodded at him as you explained yourself.

‘Yep. But I’m not that kind of tired. I mean I am, but most of all, I’m tired of this. This life, whatever it is. I’m tired of being treated like I’m a monster, I’m tired of the experiments, I’m tired of the training, I’m fed up with being here.’ You turned your head to look at Jeno after your confession and watched as he nodded with a sad but understanding smile on his face.

‘Yeah... me too.’ He admitted, his voice soft.

‘I know.’ You whispered.

---

You exited your cell, ready for the day and saw guards lined up by your door. You and Jeno shared a confused look, wondering where the doctor’s were, when the guard next to Jisung began to speak.

‘From now on, we’ll be administering your serum.’ He then turned to the boy in front of him. ‘Arm out.’

The guard by your door did the same, grabbing your wrist and exposing your inner elbow. He placed the syringe just below the joint and pressed down. You winced at the feeling that you were unfortunately used to and stepped away so that Jeno could get his. You then waited for the usual symptoms to hit you, watching as your friends turned into the comatose shells of themselves that you were expecting.

But they never came.

Your mind remained as sharp and aware as ever, and you could feel every thought that ran through your mind. You turned back to look at Jeno and, one look at his eyes told you that he was feeling the exact same thing. Your eyes flickered towards the guard who administered your serum and you focused on the number on his arm.

10.

Jeno followed your gaze and looked back at you with wide eyes. The guard began to walk towards the two of you and, out of the corner of your eye, you could see the other guards doing the same so you didn’t think too much of it. Until he began to speak.

‘You’re heading to the rose room.’ He then made sure to look the both of you directly in the eyes. ‘And you’re under the usual effects of the serum.’

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving both you and Jeno alone. You decided to just do what he said and head to the rose room, but you made sure to act as though you were feeling the usual effects of the serum. You moved lethargically, dragging your feet and keeping your eyes ahead at all times. Jeno did the same, both of you faking it the entire way there, while wondering what the hell was going on.

---

You stood at your usual position in the rose room, gathering ingredients and putting them on the conveyer belt like you always did. When you entered the room it was hard not to react to anything. The range of brilliant colours blinded you as you entered and it took everything in you not to just stop and stare.

You noticed that, out of the all the subjects there, that you guessed would be around one hundred, it only looked like your group was under the serum. The rest of them seemed very much aware of their surroundings and what they were doing. When gathering the ingredients you took a quick look at what it was exactly that you were gathering. When you got a glimpse of the label, your heart stopped. These were the same bottles that were found in the lab. It wasn’t until you managed to look over every different object obtained from the genetically modified roses, that you realised you had spent your entire life gathering the solutions and serums that the doctors had used to perform experiments on you.

You had been assisting in your own torture.

You found yourself standing at your final station, a girl you didn’t recognise on your right and the space to your left was empty. The guards began to march between you all, weaving their way through the working subjects. They stopped next to you, so close that you could feel their breath on the back on your neck.

The hairs on your arm began to rise and goosebumps began to form at the close contact. You prayed that they couldn’t see your reaction, knowing that it would give away your state. But they weren’t there for you.

The guards grabbed the girl on your right by her shoulders and pulled her backwards. They held her underneath each arm and dragged her out of the rose room. Her screams, struggles and pleas for help went completely ignored as she was eventually pulled out of sight. No one took any notice, not single subject seemed to realise what had just happened. You could her your heart pounding louder than every before, the girl’s screams still echoing in your head, haunting your thoughts.

A sudden bell sounded through the rose room, one that you recognised as signalling the end of the session. You turned in your spot, waiting for your turn to leave as all the subjects filed out of the rose room in orderly fashion. The fact that the girl was taken at the end of the session made you nervous. Is that what the guards were doing when walking through you all? Looking for their next target? And how long it would be until it was one of you?

---

After the longest day yet, you and Jeno were back in your cell. The door locked behind you and you both turned and stared at each other in disbelief.

‘How much have we missed by being under the serum?’ You asked.

‘They must only put us under it so that they can get away with doing all those things, it’s not to protect us at all.’ Jeno stated and you nodded in agreement.

‘And did you see what we were gathering in the rose room?’ You brought up, watching as Jeno’s eyes widened in realisation.

‘The solutions they use in the lab! And what did they do to that poor girl?’ His voice softened as you both thought about the subject being dragged away from you all, begging for help.

‘I didn’t even know her name.’ You muttered.

‘Me neither.’ Jeno admitted. ‘But did you notice, I don’t think anyone other than our group was under the simulation.’

‘Yes!’ You agreed. ‘I saw that too. Everyone else seemed perfectly aware of what was going on.’

Jeno nodded and you sat down on your bed, your brain feeling as though it was about to explode.

‘Huh...’ You mumbled, a sudden thought crossing your mind.

Jeno turned his head towards you, his eyebrows furrowing at the confused look on your face.

‘What?’ He questioned.

‘It’s just... the other subjects were definitely awake. It was obvious that they hadn’t been given the serum that we normally are. So, why didn’t they react to that girl being taken by the guards.’ You pondered.

Jeno thought for a moment, sitting down on his own bed opposite you.

‘Maybe they’re used to it.’ He suggested. ‘We don’t know how often that happens, it could be considered normal.’

‘I guess.’ You conceded. ‘But they didn’t react at all... I mean, even if you’re used to it, she was screaming for her life and they didn’t even spare a glance. It’s strange not to take any notice of that. I mean, we only didn’t because we had to act as if we were still under the serum.’

Jeno didn’t reply for a second, his eyes fixated on his hands that fiddling were in his lap.

‘Why do you think we weren’t given the serum?’ He asked, looking up at you.

You opened your mouth to tell him that you had no idea, but the lock on your door buzzed, and it swung open. Four guards stalked in causing you and Jeno to both stand out of shock. You were never disturbed at this time unless it was to take you to the lab, and it was Renjun’s night tonight.

Two of the guards approached you, the other two heading towards Jeno.

‘What’s happening?’ Jeno asked, but he was ignored.

Not a words was uttered by the guards as they grabbed you by the arms and began to drag you out of your cell. You began to kick and scream, struggling with all your might to break free.

‘Jesus, why can’t she go quiet?’ One of the guards complained, earning a groan from his partner.

‘Just get her to the lab and stop complaining.’

The lab...

You began to throw yourself about, desperate to not go back there, whatever the cost. You had no idea what it was that was making you react this violently, but your instincts kicked it and told you to fight with all your might.

Upon seeing you reaction, Jeno tried to reach for you, but he was stopped by the other two guards who grabbed him by the shoulders and forced him back. They held onto him tight as he tried to break through them.

‘Y/n! Let go!’ He yelled out, trying to land a hit on one of the guards.

‘Jeno!’ You called back, kicking out with your feet in an attempt to throw the guards off balance.

‘Y/N!’ You could hear Jeno crying out for you as you were pulled out of the cell completely. You just managed to see the two guards holding Jeno throw him to the floor before they turned to leave. They locked the door, with you on the outside and Jeno on the inside.

You continued to be dragged away, crying out for dear life, begging someone to come and help you. But no one did. They all acted as if you didn’t exist. You couldn’t help but wonder if this was how that girl had felt earlier. Screaming and pleading for someone to save her, only to be treated like a ghost.

Jeno’s screams for you could still be heard halfway down the corridor, along with the heavy banging against the door from him throwing his body against it in an attempt to get out.

As you approached the lab door, every morsel of your being was telling you, screaming at you, not to go back in there. But you didn’t have a choice. The two guards threw you into the lab, one of them following you in, before the door was locked shut. You were stuck in the lab with one doctor and one guard, and you were terrified.

You banged on the door, trying desperately to get out. You were so frantic that you couldn’t hear the doctor trying to get your attention. It was only when you realised that they were making no effort to restrain or cuff you that you managed to calm yourself down slightly.

You turned away from the door, the tear tracks down your face prominent. You weren’t sure when you had started crying, the utter terror you had been feeling having taken over your entire body.

The doctor took one step towards you, holding up his hands as if in surrender, but also to show you that he wasn’t holding anything.

‘Well done y/n. Just try to keep yourself calm okay? Breathe... Can you do that for me?’

You didn’t reply to him, simply staring at the man that seemed to act as if he cared for you. These doctors didn’t care for you. Normally you would be handcuffed to the table, screaming in pain by now, but for some reason you were standing upright being told to breathe.

The guard to your left took off his helmet, causing you to take a breath of surprise. You had never seen a guard with his helmet off before, much less one this close. You gawked as the man smiled at you, a genuine, comforting smile that for some reason made you feel safe.

The doctor began to speak again.

‘Y/n, we’re not going to hurt you. In fact, we’re trying to help you. My name’s Doyoung and this is Ten.’ 

‘Uh huh...’ You stuttered, not really managing to get any real words out.

‘Ten administered your serum this morning, the serum I created for you. And you probably don’t need me to tell you that it was a fake.’

You nodded at the doctor’s words, still trying to calm your racing heart.

‘We did that because there’s a lot that you don’t know about this place that we think you should.’ The doctor, Doyoung, then turned to the guard. ‘Ten can you get her some water?’

The guard, who you assumed went by his uniform number 10, nodded before standing up.

‘Do you want to sit down?’ Doyoung asked, pulling up a chair for you.

You nodded, gladly taking the chair and very grateful that he didn’t ask you to sit on the table. Ten offered you a glass of water, which you took with a small smile as thanks. You took a sip, relishing in how the cool liquid managed to calm your mind.

‘Ok, keep going.’ You said and Doyoung’s eyebrows raised in surprise. ‘Why are you surprised? Like you said, after what I’ve seen today, I’m not so sure that this place is really meant to keep me safe.’

Doyoung sighed and looked down sadly.

‘It isn’t. This place isn’t designed to keep you safe, but rather to keep you in. It’s a prison. I know that to you it seems as though there are hundreds of people here, but there aren’t. Only the eight of you on your floor are being kept here.’

You let out a deep breath you didn’t even know you were holding.

‘A prison...’ You whispered. ‘Only for the eight of us?’

Doyoung nodded and Ten placed a comforting hand on your shoulder.

‘Why us?’ You asked.

Doyoung and Ten shared a look, making you dread what was coming next.

‘Please, just tell me what I am.’ You begged, so tired of having spent your entire life not knowing the most basic thing about you.

‘Doyoung, she needs to know.’ Ten said, as Doyoung sighed.

‘Yeah, I know. There’s no easy way to tell you this y/n. The world fell into chaos slightly. Political leaders began to clash more and more with each other and, before we knew it, we were on the brink of a third world war. One that, this time, really would involve the whole world, and with the creation of nuclear weapons, our government want something that would set us apart from everywhere else. He decided to turn his intentions to modifying humans. He exposed children to certain chemicals and levels of radiation when they were young to see if anything had an affect on them. Eventually he found success, but at a very large cost.’

‘How large?’ You whispered, scared of the answer. Ten spoke up this time, making you turn your head towards him.

‘He tested on over three hundred thousand children. You eight are the only survivors.’

You didn’t know how to react. Eight out of three hundred thousand. Who would be willing to pay that high of a price?

‘What does that make me? A weapon?’ You asked, your voice quiet, almost inaudible.

‘You were human, at some point. Now, we’re not sure. I would believe the closest definition is a mutant of some kind, but y/n, you have to remember that this doesn’t define you.’ Doyoung leaned forward but you shook your head.

‘I’m not human, I’m a mutant, a weapon, an experiment. I’m nothing more than an experiment, a toy for you to play with in your lab. That why I’m prisoner here. I’m a monster.’ You were spiralling, caught up in a mess of reality and new information, you couldn’t control where your mind was heading.

‘Y/n, Doyoung is right, this doesn’t define who you are.’ Ten tried to reassure you but you whirled on him.

‘Doesn’t define me? Yes it does! It literally is what I am, how can you say it doesn’t define me?’ You accused.

‘Because you’re more than that! Beneath all that’s been done to you, all we’ve done to you, we know that you’re people. You are human, you think and feel as we do, you love like we do, you die like we do. And who gives a damn about what made you what you are. It’s who you are that matters.’ Doyoung stood up during his small speech. He somehow managed to verbally slap some sense into you, allowing you a brief moment to calm your mind.

‘The others need to know.’ You blurted, your thoughts suddenly drifting back to Jeno.

‘Yes, and we will tell them.’ Ten reassured.

‘Tonight.’ You insisted. ‘They’ve been through exactly the same thing I have. Why should I get to know the truth and they shouldn’t?’

Both Doyoung and Ten looked at each other, having short, silent conversation before Doyoung sighed and agreed with you.

‘Ok, tonight. Ten go and fetch them from their cells. The doors are locked so the corridors should be empty of guards.’

Ten nodded and left the room quickly, stopping briefly to scan the hallways and only continuing once he knew it was clear. The door automatically shut softly behind him. You suddenly remembered something else Doyoung said, causing you to turn back to face him once more.

‘What changed your mind?’ You asked, only receiving a very confused look from the doctor in return. ‘You’ve worked on us for years, as a trainee then as a real doctor. You haven’t had this position long, so why are you risking everything you’ve worked for? When did you start to think of us as humans?’

A guilty look crossed Doyoung’s face.

‘I’ve done some terrible things to you, to all of you, over the years, and I cannot apologise enough for that. I always thought... that we were doing the right thing, the thing that should be done. We needed something to set us apart or, before we knew it, we would be a speck of dust on the ground, bombed within an inch of our lives. But that was over ten years ago, and you guys haven’t left the facility once. I kept telling myself that it would be worth it, that this was all being done for a reason, and that you would understand that. But then I was in the lab and something made me look at a subject differently. The way he acted, it was something so vulnerable, so human, that it changed my perspective completely.’

‘What was it?’ You asked, immersed in Doyoung emotional words.

‘It was Jeno. He was undergoing a procedure that had been done a thousand times before, but the head doctor that day decided to make some changes. I don’t know what he did, but Jeno started to scream, and not just shout out in a bit of pain, I mean, properly scream. I could hear the strain on his vocal cords and he started crying out and begging for help like I had never heard anyone beg before and he kept calling for the same person over and over.’

‘Who did he call out for?’ Your voice was shaking slightly, your emotions running high at the thought of what could have made Jeno scream out like that.

Doyoung looked at you, complete sincerity in his eyes.

‘You. He called out for you.’

Before you could reply, or even process this information, the door to the lab burst open and the other boys all piled in. Jeno spotted you, alive, awake and well and made his way towards you immediately. He pulled you in for a tight hug as soon as he reached you, wrapping his arms securely around your waist. 

‘Oh thank god, you’re okay.’ He whispered. He pulled back and brushed the hair out of your face, holding your cheeks in his hands while he searched your face for any sign of pain. ‘Are you okay?’

You nodded in response. ‘Yeah I’m okay. But you guys need to hear this.’

You watched as Doyoung and Ten explained to the other boys what they had just told you. You watched as they went through exactly the same reactions that you did. And you watched as each of them managed to process this information in their own way.

‘There’s only one thing left to tell you all.’ Ten said, watching as eight pairs of scared eyes looked up at him. ‘We’re going to break you out.’

‘I’m sorry, you’re gonna what?’ Renjun asked, voicing the shock you were all feeling.

‘You’re more than just subjects, more than just experiments, you’re people. And you don’t get the chance to just be people when you’re trapped here. So tomorrow, we’re gonna break you out.’ Doyoung explained.

‘Tomorrow?’ Chenle questioned and both Doyoung and Ten nodded in confirmation.

‘What’s happens after that? Where do we go next? All we’ve known is this facility, so what will we do outside of it?’ Jaemin piped up, thankfully thinking ahead for all of you.

‘I already have a truck ready for us to escape in tomorrow, from there we will drive out of range so that they can’t detect us. Doyoung and I know some people who are willing to help. We’ll stay with them for a while and then, eventually, reintegrate the eight of you back into the world, and allow you to lie the normal life you’ve always been deprived of.’ Ten spoke. You sat there silently, just taking all this information in. You were getting out, and not only that, but also going to get the life you never thought you would ever be able to. You weren’t sure what life would be like on the outside, but as long as you had the guys there, you knew you would be okay.

You felt a pair of eyes on you and turned your head, only to catch Jeno staring at you with an unreadable expression on his face. He looked away as soon as you noticed him, clearing his throat before asking one last question.

‘So... how are we getting out of here?’

---

You lay in bed that night, unable to sleep. You knew that you could probably do with a good rest, but your mind was so active that it was impossible. You couldn’t tell if Jeno was awake too, worried that if he wasn’t you might wake him from your constant moving. Doyoung revelation about him calling out for you when in pain was plaguing your mind as well. You had often found yourself thinking of Jeno when you were undergoing procedures in the lab, but you had always dismissed it as wondering what state you would be in when you were returned to your roommate. Was it possible that it was something more? You can’t deny that you’ve felt something for Jeno, he was kind, compassionate, empathetic and so damn loyal to you.

‘Y/n?’ Jeno’s voice disrupted your thoughts, causing you to jump out of your skin.

You swallowed before replying.

‘Yeah?’

‘Oh you’re awake too.’ He mumbled.

‘Yeah... I can’t sleep.’ You admitted.

‘Me neither.’

The conversation stopped for a minute and, for the first time since you met him, you didn’t know what to say to Jeno. You felt colder in your bed than you ever had before and you wanted nothing more than to crawl into his and fall asleep there.

‘Y/n?’ Jeno spoke again, much softer this time.

‘Yeah?’ You whispered back.

‘I’m cold...’ He confessed and you could almost hear the blush that you knew would be dusting his cheeks.

Before you let the surge of courage you felt pass, you climbed out of your bed and padded softly over to his.

‘Move over.’ You instructed, gently tapping his side.

He did just as you told him too, moving himself to the edge so that you could climb in. You lay facing each other for a while and you found yourself unable to tear your gaze away from his eyes. He lifted up a hand to move a stray piece of hair out of your face and sighed.

You shut your eyes slowly, hoping that by being closer to him you would be able to get some rest. The only problem was, the beds that you slept on were not the largest and could only really fit one person. You found yourself almost pressed up against his chest and that made it very hard for you to calm your rapidly beating heart.

‘Hold on, bear with me for a second.’ Jeno mumbled as he moved himself around slightly. You squeaked in surprise when you felt his hands come to waist, pulling you halfway onto his chest as he settled down on his back.

‘Is this ok?’ He asked hesitantly, and you nodded in response.

Even though you were practically lying on top of him, you couldn’t deny that this position was much more comfortable. From here you could hear his heartbeat and you allowed the consistent rhythm of it to help lull you to sleep.

You wrapped your arm around his waist, the other coming up to rest on his chest as his arms found their way around your shoulder and stroking your hair. You closed your eyes and felt yourself finally drift off to sleep, almost missing the soft sentence Jeno whispered into your hair.

‘I don’t know what will happen once we get out of here, but please just... don’t leave me. I think I need you more than you know.’

---

For as long as you can remember, you have woken up to the sound of the high pitched repetitive beep of the alarm. Not today.

You were quickly pulled out of your sleep to the sound of alarms blaring, red lights flashing and shouting in the corridor. You and Jeno shared a sleepy but scared look before quickly climbing out of bed. You bit your lip slightly in embarrassment as you remembered the position that the two of you slept in last night. Jeno approached your door and pushed on it gently. The door swung open and the two of you stared in disbelief.

You followed him out into the corridor and found yourself standing in the middle of the chaos. Guards and doctors were running up and down the corridors shouting commands and arguing with each other while the eight of you all stood in your doorways, confused to high heavens.

‘Grab them now!’ You heard one of the doctors yell as you were finally noticed. ‘They’re not getting away.’

You saw a guard lunge for Chenle, who quickly turned into a fly and disappeared from sight. Three other guards ran towards you and Jeno, their intentions obvious and the two of you immediately began to move. Jeno threw up a gust of air, knocking them off their feet, while you pulled doors open and moved their legs so that they were constantly tripping over.

‘Guys we have to get out of here now!’ Mark yelled over the noise.

He suddenly appeared from nowhere, making you jump.

‘They somehow found out about our plan, either we leave now, or we’re never getting out.’ And with that he was gone, disappearing at the speed of light.

Jeno opened up a hailstorm on the guard in front of him, his efforts useless against the tough armour that they were wearing. You pulled out a metal drawer from one of the cells and used your telekinesis to ram in into the guard’s leg.

He crumpled where he stood, his head landing hard on the concrete. Your eyes went wide as he lay there unmoving for a second, until he let out a breath and groaned in pain. Jeno’s grabbed your arm and shouted something at you that you didn’t quite catch, you eye still fixated on the guard in front of you.

You really were dangerous. You had hurt someone. And it had taken very little effort from you to do so. What could you do if you really wanted to hurt someone? How badly could you hurt someone without meaning to? 

You lost focus on your surroundings, Jeno’s sudden pull on your arm causing you to lose balance. You managed not to fall over, but it slowed you down. You forced yourself to focus, to think rationally, to prioritise leaving and then you could figure out the extent of your abilities.

But you were too late. One of the doctors noticed your stumble and grabbed a taser from a fallen guard. They quickly pushed it into, electrocuting you where you stood. You mouth fell open as a scream tore out of it and your body collapsed onto the ground.

Your mind went fuzzy, everything around you slowing down as you tried to take it all in. You vaguely registered Jeno screaming out for you as you lay on the cold floor. You lifted your eyes and stared into the open door in front of you. It took you a few seconds to realise that you were staring into the lab. You watched as one of the guards cornered Doyoung, who stood with his hands up trying to explain something. They didn’t listen however, and you watched as the guard pulled a gun out of nowhere and squeezed the trigger.

Doyoung doubled over, a red patch forming on his stomach. His back hit the counter behind him and he sank down towards the ground, the pain evident on his face. The red mark on his shirt was growing by the second until it covered half of his lower stomach. You found yourself staring into the dull, lifeless eyes of the one doctor here who had actually tried to look out for you.

Your eyes welled up with tears, blurring your vision. You barely felt the arms that hooked under your elbows and began to drag you down the corridor. The last things you registered before you blacked out were Jeno screaming for you, and Doyoung’s dead body.

--- 

‘God this kid is a pain.’

‘I know man, I don’t get why we have to be stuck here with her.’

‘Doyoung though? Hmmm, I didn’t see that betrayal coming.’

‘Really? Out of everyone, I’m least surprised that it was him. He always had the weakest stomach when it came to things like this.’

You heard the voices before you even realised that you were awake. The guards in your room were having a casual chat while they waited for you to wake up. Your head was pounding and your mouth tasted like pennies. You scrunched up your face in discomfort, trying to open your eyes but with little success.

‘Oh, look. I think she’s coming back...’

You groaned out slightly, your mind suddenly becoming aware of the pain your body was in. You forced your eyes open, regretting that choice as soon as you were blinded by the harsh white light of whatever room you were currently being kept in.

You blinked a couple of times, trying to adjust to your surroundings, before taking a quick look around. You definitely weren’t in your cell anymore. You found yourself chained to the wall, literally. There were heavy metal cuffs around your wrists, ankles, stomach and even your neck. Each of those cuffs were attached to a chain that was embedded into the wall behind you.

They had taken every measure possible to imprison you somewhere they knew you wouldn’t be able to escape from.

You lifted your head and found yourself staring at two guards, both with their helmets off. They looked at you with such patronising looks on their faces, but you couldn’t focus on them. Your eyes were trained on the cupboard behind them, an open cupboard that you could see was filled with guard uniforms.

One of the guards followed your line of sight and laughed.

‘You’re not in our cloak room, don’t worry sweet heart. You’re in the maximum security room at the end of the hall.’ 

Your blood ran cold at his revelation. No one who entered this room ever made it out alive. But then, that was before you learnt that there were only eight of you actually being held in this facility... You really had no idea what this meant for you.

‘Allow me to explain.’ The other guard took a step forwards. ‘Every time you get drugged and tiptoe off the the rose room to do your work, we walk in and grab a random person standing next to one of you and drag them back here. Now their job is to just scream and kick and draw as much attention to themselves as they can while everyone else ignores them. Once they get here do you know what they do? They get back into their guard uniform and go back to work. All those people you know, everyone in the rose room with you, all of them are one of us.’ He let out a laugh. ‘I can’t believe you were stupid enough to think that they were real subjects!’

The first guard joined in, enjoying taunting you when you were at your most vulnerable.

‘God you really are stupid aren’t you?’ He commented. ‘You thought you were getting out? You’re never going to get out of here. You’re simply going to be stuck here for the rest of your life.’

The other guard laughed again.

‘Yeah, you know that war you were made for. It’s not going to happen so you really aren’t ever getting out. You’re too scared to hurt one of us, how would you ever be useful in a war?’

‘God you’re such a waste of space. I can’t believe that out of the hundreds of thousands that went through the initial testing, she was one of the few to survive.’

‘Tell me about it. Why is she even in maximum security? She probably wouldn’t hurt a fly.’

The guards continued with their taunts, each one crueler than the last. You tried everything you could to block them out, but it was difficult. Especially when they were right, you had been useless. It’s because you were too scared to hurt a guard’s leg that all of you are stuck here forever. This is your fault.

‘No it isn’t.’ Jaemin’s voice echoed through your head, startling you. ‘Ignore them y/n. None of this is your fault, it’s theirs. Don’t forget who put you there in the first place. Now, listen to me, you need to get out of there. Now. I don’t care how you do it, but y/n, it’s time to go.’

The guards continued to taunt you, telling you how powerless you were and you started to feel your anger grow. Jaemin was right, these people did put you in here. They imprisoned you, tortured you and the people you care about. They put you through hours upon hours of pain, just to tell you that you weren’t good enough.

You pulled your hands closed into fists and focused your mind like you never have before. You channelled your anger into your being, thinking of everything you’ve lost, everything they’ve taken from you. A family, a normal life, the ability to just be human. You felt the power rumble from within you. It was like nothing you had ever felt before. It grew from your soul, feeding off your raw emotions, evolving and mutating as it made its way throughout your limbs. It finally reached your head and your opened your eyes. They were pure gold.

The guards stopped their conversation and stared at you in fear, completely at a loss as to what they should do.

You finally understood. You weren’t human. You were so much more than that. And it was time they learnt just how powerful you could be.

You threw your head back, and screamed.

You unleashed all the power within you as a sheer bolt of energy. The chains imprisoning you shattered, falling to the floor. The guards were throw backwards, both of them hitting the wall with a sickening crack, and your door was blown off its hinges. You stood and began to move, feeling every part and every being in the universe working with you and you knew, this is what true power felt like.

You had no idea how to come down from it, you were so taken over that you didn’t feel the hand that gently found its way into yours until you were being turned where you stood and found yourself looking into Jeno’s eyes.

‘Come back to me y/n.’ He whispered, pulling you into his chest and stroking your hair. You let go of all the anger you were feeling, choosing instead to ground yourself with the boy in front of you. ‘We have to go.’

‘I heard.’ You mumbled, pulling yourself away from him chest.

You ran through the corridor, gathering all the boys on the way. Jeno had managed to create a mini hurricane in his room, effectively blowing his way out of the cell he was in. Jisung quite literally just barrelled straight through his door, but he once again misjudged his strength and couldn’t stop himself. He kept going straight into the door on the opposite side of the corridor, luckily bursting it open it for Renjun.

It the situation weren’t so dire you probably would have fallen over laughing at the scene in front of you. 

Chenle turned into a midge and flew through the key hole of his cell door, making you admire the boy’s talent to find a loophole in every scenario. Jaemin used his mind control to get the guard who was watching him to open the door for him. Also making the guard bow for him as he walked out as a finishing touch. You couldn’t help but smile at that. Jisung pulled off the doors of both Mark’s and Donghyuck’s cells and the eight of you ran.

You turned a corner and barrelled straight into a guard. All of you threw up your hands, ready to fight, until you saw that it was Ten. Instead of getting a punch in the face, Ten found himself with eight superhuman teens hugging him with all their might.

‘Ok, let’s do this later, the truck’s outside. Go!’

He pushed you all off his and pointed towards the door in front of you. You ran towards it, turning your head to the left as you passed the lab and not missing Doyoung’s body, still lying there on the floor. You swallowed back your tears, promising that you would mourn him properly later, and pushed forwards. You burst out of the doors, shocked beyond belief to find yourself in a lobby of some kind. Your entire life, you thought you had been in the sub basement section of a facility, but really you had been above ground the whole time.

You didn’t have time to marvel however, because, as soon as you were spotted, the alarms went off. They blared through the building and you took that as your cue to leave.

Jisung ran first, easily breaking the main doors open, despite their heavy lock, and the eight of you poured outside. You saw the truck that Ten had mentioned, the trademark number 10 a sign that it was yours. It was on the outside of the barbed wire fence that surrounded the facility. The fence was too high to climb so you took a deep breath and held your arms out. You pulled them apart, imaging a rip and watched as the fence tore in two.

You all sprinted through the fence and piled into the truck that was waiting for you. There was a fabric roof and some metal beams making the skeleton on the inside so you held onto that as you climbed in. Mark moved around to the front seat and you look out, waiting for Ten. You needed him to drive this truck as none of you could. 

Ten finally appeared, running at full speed towards you.

‘Go!’ He screamed. ‘Just go!’

You wanted to shout back to him but you never got the chance to. The gunshot rang out loudly and Ten fell straight to the ground. He lay face down in the grass, not breathing, not moving a muscle. 

He was dead.

‘Mark... Mark drive. We need to go.’ Donghyuck’s shaky voice tore you out of your trance. Mark moved himself so that he was in the driver’s seat and turned the key.

‘Ok, I can figure this out.’ He reassured himself.

‘Well can you do it now because we have some rather unfriendly company arriving in about thirty seconds. And you don’t want to know what they’ll do if they catch us.’ Donghyuck warned, making all your eyes widen in fear. When the boy who can see the future tells you that something is going to happen, you’ve learnt that the best thing to do would be to listen to him.

Mark moved the gear stick into ‘D’ and slammed his foot down on a random pedal. Luckily he seemed to get the right one because you all lurched forwards, speeding away from the facility. Mark’s super speed means that he has extremely fast reflexes, making it very useful for when he needs to learn a new skill. He reacted quickly to the movements of the car and it didn’t take long before you were smoothly driving away from the prison that was also happened to be the only home you’ve ever know.

Renjun shuffled in his seat, facing his body out the back of the truck and towards the facility. He lifted up his hands, turning his palms out before suddenly clenching them into fists. He then sat back down, his back hitting the seat as he let out a deep sigh.

‘Just a quick image of an empty field. It’ll throw them off the scent long enough for us to get out of here.’ He explained before leaning his head back and shutting his eyes.

You looked back at the large building that was disappearing rapidly into the distance and thought of Doyoung and Ten. The two who risked everything so that you could all be where you are now. And they were the two who paid the ultimate price.

You felt your eyes beginning to droop, the gentle movements of the car lulling your tiring body to sleep. You felt Jeno’s arm come around your shoulder and you leant into his warmth, relishing in the comfort of being close to him. Only now did you realise how exhausted you really were. You allowed your head to fall onto Jeno’s shoulder, feeling his arm tighten slightly around you, and you felt safe.

For the first time, ever, you felt safe.