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malleux · 4 years ago

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Running with the Wolves [4]

masterlist ; << | >>

-> Pairing: Yuri Leclarc x Fem!Reader

-> Modern!Au | Gang!Au | Enemies to Friends to Lovers

-> Word Count: ~1.3k

-> Warnings: Cursing, Inappropriate Jokes

-> Summary: You were just a normal college student, trying to find her way in a new place. You didn't mean to get caught up in the wrong crowd. You just wanted coffee, but now you're running with the wolves.

a/n: i actually lost my taglist and idk if the people on the previous chapters still want to be on it! so please, please, please, if you were on the original taglist and still want to be notified- or if you’re new and want to be notified of new chapters- send me an ask, a message, or a reply! these are the only two i can remember who wanted to be on it.

You were never a morning person. The idea of waking up before 9 was a nightmare to you- even 9 was a little too early for your liking.

When you woke up early for classes, you were grumpy. You had an attitude with everyone who approached you, even Ellie. Everyone knew not to mess with you in the mornings.

But here, standing in Yuri's bedroom at 7:30am, you had no place to get an attitude.

Hapi was knelt at the bedside, carefully helping her injured leader sit up. He winced slightly with every movement, obviously not wanting to show weakness in front of his teammates. Unfortunately for Yuri, though, his members weren't idiots. Even you could see the flinches and tight breaths that he harbored in his chest every time he had to move and quite frankly, it was pitiful.

Hiram's eyes hadn't left you from the moment you entered Yuri's room where they all had congregated. Hapi insisted on wrapping Yuri's bandage first to reach you what do you. You were thankful- you'd never played nurse before. Especially not to a gunshot wound.

The room was quiet. Tense. You could feel everyone's weariness as Yuri slowly laid back in the bed, once more hiding his pain. Hapi patted the blankets and stood up, facing you.

"If the wound starts bleeding again, reinforce it with some dry bandages. Don't take it off if it's not bleeding. If it is, don't take it off until it's done bleeding. Yuri's had enough wounds, unfortunately, so he can help you gauge those things. We cleaned the dirt and shit out last night, so you shouldn't have to worry too much about cleaning it. Just- don't run off again. Please."

You heard the exasperation in her voice and nodded. Rhys held his hand out to you- in it, a small flip phone. You took it cautiously, still not forgetting how the silent man sliced you yesterday, and fiddled with the piece of technology.

"It's a burner phone. We'll call you after visiting both the Blue Lions and Golden Deer to give an update. Afterwards, destroy it. If you need to contact us, there's one number in the contacts list. Text it and just say the code "9653". We'll call back on a public phone. Do not use any specific words that could give away anything. Be subtle in case someone's listening. I'm smart enough to figure out what you're saying." Hiram explained.

Sensing how you absolutely refused to look at, or even acknowledge, Hiram's presence, Hapi continued. "We're about to leave. This is your last chance to redeem yourself, so we hope that you'll make the right decision. Remember, Y/N, we're not going to hurt you."

You nodded, eyes flickering to Yuri's frame. He seemed almost child-like laying in the large king bed, his eyes half-lidded as he listened to his members speak. He met your gaze and you quickly looked away, watching as the Wolves filed out of the room.

Hapi placed her hand on your shoulder. "Yuri's a little difficult to get along with, but he has good intentions. Take care of him."

"Yeah!" Hiram cackled from the hallway, "Make it up to him. Make him some breakfast, give him some head- OW!"

Hapi shook her head. "There's plenty of food in the fridge. Don't order take-out, don't have any form of outside communication besides us. Don't go looking for your phone either, Hiram destroyed it."

"Wait- he what?!" You called out, but they were gone. The house was silent after Hapi had locked the doors completely. You turned to Yuri, who was still glaring at you. "Do you want breakfast?"

"I'd like to be with my team."

Your lips pulled into a tight line and you sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Alright, I'm sorry." When he quirked an eyebrow, you explained. "I- I didn't mean to shoot you. I was scared, and I meant for it to be just a warning shot. My hands were shaking and I didn't even aim. I didn't want to hit anyone."

Yuri stayed quiet, still analyzing your form as you played with your fingers. He looked rather cute, laying there with the soft comforter stopping just below his nose. Only his eyes and the top of his head peaked out, making him seem like a pouting child. A pouting child with a gun and years of combat experience, but a child nonetheless.

"I want pancakes."

☆ ☆ ☆

Hapi was right- there were an abundance of ingredients in the kitchen of the house, ready for you to use. But there was just one problem.

You had no clue how to make pancakes.

Flour, eggs, butter, and baking powder sat on the counter, untouched by your hands as you wracked your brain. You didn't have a phone to look up a recipe. Hiram would probably kill you if you used one of his computers. The flip phone was for emergencies only, and definitely didn't have any pancake recipes hidden in the notes section.

You sighed, deciding to grab a few measuring cups. Then, you stared at the ingredients again. While lost in your thoughts, you failed to notice a certain purple-haired asshole limping into the kitchen and plopping himself down at the table. He watched you for a moment.

"You know you actually have to cook, right? Pancakes don't just make themselves while you watch."

"Fuck-" You jumped and whipped around, the measuring cup flying out of your grip and landing on the floor. "What are you doing up? You need to be resting."

"Do you even know how to make pancakes?"

Your eye twitched. He was ignoring your questions. "I- Of course I do! Now go back to bed before your wound reopens. How did you even get up, anyways? Not even twenty minutes ago you were struggling to sit up."

"I'm a miracle boy. Now, make pancakes."

You huffed and faced your mess again. In a wild guess, you grabbed the measuring cup once more and reached for the milk carton. Two cups should be okay, right?

"You're doing liquids first? Interesting. That's not how my mother taught."

"Then tell me, Yuri, how did your mother make pancakes?" You seethed through your teeth.

The man only grinned and leaned his cheek against his palm. "I'm glad you asked. There's no harm in admitting you're clueless. First, do the dry ingredients. Flour, baking powder, all of that."

You're a dry ingredient, you bit back from saying. Yuri might not be in good shape to fight if you launched yourself at him from across the kitchen, but you didn't miss the glint of the handgun that rested against his hip. The same one you had used to shoot him.

“Now put in the eggs and milk and shit.” Yuri gave you more measurements and ingredients and soon enough, you had pancakes on a plate and were serving them to the charity case that sat across from you at the table. He was quiet as he ate, and to you the tense silence was unbearable. You had to break it.

“These are good- you said your mom taught you how to make them like this? What was she like?” You flinched at the look Yuri gave you, immediately regretting asking.

“She was the one person in my life who I could just be myself around. Not Yuri, the leader of the Ashen Wolves, not Yuri, the man who’s killed more than his members combined, just Yuri, her son. My mom was the best woman to ever exist.” He spoke intensely, and you could see just how much he loved her.

“Was?”

“She- she’s missing.” Yuri closed his eyes and placed his fork down, standing up. “I’m going back to bed. Uh, thanks.”

You nodded and began gathering the plates together, bringing them to the sink to wash them. You were fully aware that Yuri had stopped in the doorway and was observing you as you cleaned. He cleared his throat.

“And Y/N. Just so you know, none of us chose this life. We’re all in the Wolves for a reason. We’ve all got our own goals and plans. Don’t be quick to judge.”

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taglist: @dimitrimidim @emperor-pizza

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#fic blog #x reader #fanfiction #writing #lay writes #running with the wolves #yuri leclarc x reader #yuri leclarc #yuri x reader #yuri leclerc x reader #yuri leclerc #fire emblem #fire emblem three houses x reader #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem x reader

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theangrypokemaniac · 4 years ago

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Then Ambipom showed up, and the little miss wasn't half so bad in retrospect.

I never felt too keen on Aipom. It was okay but that inane grin possessed a sinister edge, like Tony Blair after the '97 election.

Bloody hell, what's that?

Yer tail's got more fingers than you!

Nasty thing this freak:

• Teeth like bathroom tiles.

• Grimace about as reassuring as an escaped mental patient peering in the window.

• Chevron nose implying a porcine snout.

• Tail ends like silicon knockers, each sporting a trio of red-raw teats.

• Screechy, gurgling cackle.

• Bobbing up and down, heaving, like a Steamboat Willie reject.

It's the voice mainly. The cheap attempt rolled out by The Pokémon Company ruins much of it for me.

Aipom began Sinnoh as Ash's Pokémon, but so enamoured was she of the whole Contest palaver, and with no chance of joining whilst still in his custody, the decision was made to trade her for Buizel.

I repeat: she left Ash, whom she clearly cared about, given the hat antics, because Contests were a wondrous jewel in her eyes.

It did then anyway. The boss-eyed ugliness is more of an issue now.

It was all going so swimmingly. Dawn and Ambipom made a grand team, sticking it to Ursula and Gabite good and proper.

That is, until she made the mistake of entering a table tennis event.

Really? To this we are reduced?

Remember that. It's important for later.

His name is O.

It is not. That's blatantly an alias for ulterior motives.

What's he up to, sneaking about under a pseudonym of evident fabrication?

O? Yer couldn't even think up a proper sobriquet for this devilish creep?

It's all Barry's fault, the bitch.

I consider folk who fanny hither and thither, referring to themselves by initials only, to be insufferably pretentious.

T.A.P. won't have it on this blog.

Dawn progresses with ease, thoroughly thrashing opponents, for Ambipom reveals herself to be quite the skilled operator.

With no fingers, no wrists, and no joints. Just the palms.

As if!

How can Shiftry be a champion? Look at it, man!

Alright, it's not so severe a drawback as Oddish, who had No Bloody Arms, but it ain't much of an improvement.

It's got no bloody hands!

Yet they come up against real competition at the close, for O and Shiftry are legends of the art.

It's a master ping-pong player... with No Bloody Hands?!

You're 'avin me on here!

What's it meant to do, slap away with a frond?

How?! There's no bloody bones in them there leaves!

Can't have a cup of tea with them, can yer?!

What a surprise, Dawn loses in the final.

Something else to fail at then?

Oh come on love, can't you do anything right?

Then O guilt trips her. Apparently the shrieking simian is a natural talent, but her deadweight presence is cramping its style.

Charming.

Ambipom is given the choice: spotlight and seals or bats and balls. She picks the latter.

Each time the ball approaches, either it'll just bend the foliage, or, when aflame, burn a hole right through, and Shiftry would go up like a woollen nightgown!

Of course she does. The compelling story arc of twenty minutes could lead only to this conclusion.

Aipom gives up entering Contests, a career she adored, in preference for a thing no one knew existed before this single episode, even if it means parting from all of her friends forever.

Perfectly logical thought process there.

Two options:

1. Contests are crap. They look all flash at a distance but it's a soulless procedure.

Ambipom twigged this early on, jumping ship at the first opportunity to escape a lifetime of feudal drudgery under Dawn's baronial whip hand.

O claims to run his own ping-pong school, because in these parts that's how people fill the empty hours waiting for death.

Bizarrely it's situated in Vermilion City.

I know. It's on a entirely different continent to Dawn, as if they don't want her visiting.

Back in day Ash and Brock almost died trying to reach said settlement. It ain't easy even for them.

Oh Vermilion City! Of course it is! I remember it so well now from Electric Shock Showdown.

Lieutenant Surge loves a game of ping-pong! Him and Raichu batter fragile Pidgey and Rattata all day then unwind with a bit of back-and-forth paddle-whacking.

He's at every hour under the sun with the Fishing Guru and Fan Club Chairman.

2. The writers responsible are baggy-arsed oafs and this is the most inept exit in the show.

Yeah, and I bet O's vehicle is the one hiding Mew.

Ah! That's the explanation I've waited for!

Disembarking from the Saint Anne? It's the first place you go when in town.

Captain, calm thy sick, and Sailors, put down those women of ill repute. There's pongs to be pinged.

A likely scenario as ever I did see.

Or is it?

Well, well, well. This tissue of lies is unravelling before me.

• Calls himself O?

• Has such a mundane, yet ludicrous profession?

• Works with a disabled Pokémon incapable of the very action for which it is famed?

• Professes to own an establishment we know from past experience isn't there?

• Enters the aforesaid competition, immediately targeting his favoured prey?

• Grooms Ambipom with flattery, adding a reduction in status by beating her, inspiring a useful hunger for better?

• Emotionally manipulates a young girl into surrendering her Pokémon?

• Shows no remorse in removing an animal from her family?

• Travels thousands of miles from home, keen to avoid recognition by fellow countrymen?

• Supposed base happens to be in a city difficult to access for Dawn?

• Oh, and a port town to boot, stamping ground of smugglers passing illegal goods, like exotic pets and contraband?

• Disappears on a bus, never to be seen again?

The evidence is piling up!

He ain't no ping-pong player! He's scouting for specimens for his animal research lab!

Ambipom's gonna get stuffed and placed in a cabinet for snotty students to study!

Hey, science man. Anything's justified in its name. The future's now thanks to it.

Thumbs up from Pope Clemont.

Could be worse. Could be talentless twat Damien Hirst picking up creatures to bisect in a vat of formaldehyde for the pleasure of a lot of beard-stroking bourgeoisie.

If I were Ash I'd be well aggrieved at the entire situation.

You give away yer best chimp, assuming it'll be safe with a friend, and she gifts it to the vivisectionist!

Oi bitch, yer wanna take the shirt off his back too?

You should've handed it to Jessie when asked. She never would've done such a thing.

She cares.

She just dumps all hers in the tender embrace of H.Q. and forgets.

Might be dead now. Much better.

What is it about Sinnoh? Chimchar gets grief, and Aipom's headed for China's cruelty-free wet markets.

From Poffin to coffin: aye-aye-aye.

Mmm-mmm: Mashed Ape coming to a dinner plate near you.

I tell yer, shameless spanking of monkeys going on all over.

But lo, the somewhat misnamed Galar region is set in Vermilion City!

Obviously Ambipom will be at Chloë's for a cup of tea and a banana on a regular basis.

Yep, definitely will happen. No doubt about it. We're due a remake of Diamond and Pearl after all.

Should that come to fruition, any old excuse to promote it on screen will do.

I'm handing yer that loose story strand, Game Freak!

Any time now. The first day Ash was in town he raced to the famous ping-pong school round the corner.

He couldn't resist, not when he hadn't bothered to visit in three previous generations.

It's coming. It will. Just wait a minute.

...

That's right, you wave goodbye. That's the last we'll be seeing of 'er outside of a packed lunch with mustard.

No? Again I give you two options:

1. What choo expecting canon coherence from this shower for?

I keep telling yer: when a new era begins it erases all that has gone before. That's why they explain the concept of Pokémon EVERY SINGLE BLOODY TIME.

2. It is consistent, and Ambipom can't return as her skin's decorating a fine Gucci handbag.

Plus the rest of her made a top-notch tin of dog food.

#Pokémon #Aipom #Ambipom #Dawn #O #Shiftry #Sinnoh #To Thine Own Pokémon Be True!

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missyslittlepet · 5 years ago

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((Finally done, not much to this one but again at least it's something. Regardless, I hope you all enjoy it! 💙))

A Different Kind Of Love

The chill of the wind seemed colder today than it had in a while. You gently tugged your coat tighter around your body and let out a sigh. You watched as the mist left your mouth and danced in front of your eyes before quickly dispersing into the nothing. When your vision focused again you found yourself taking in the view. Despite how many times you had seen it, it never failed to take your breath away.

The sun was brightly glistening off the mountain caps in the distance as you leant against the icy steel of the railing surrounding the balcony. You peered over the railing and through the mist below you could just make out the crude heart shaped crater. You didn't want to think about the tragedy that had taken place there.

"I thought you might like something to drink?" Heartman's voice was almost a whisper as he spoke.

You could hear him slowly approaching from behind you and soon enough he was by your side, two cups of fresh coffee in his hand. He offered one to you with a lopsided grin and you took it gratefully, savouring the warmth of the cup and the glorious smell that now permeated the crisp morning air.

"Thank you, but shouldn't I be making you the coffee not the other way around." You grinned, taking a sip. You closed your eyes again as the warmth ran down your throat. "Perfect. This couldn't have come at a better time."

"I agree wholeheartedly." Heartman smiled taking a drink from his own cup. "There really is nothing like a good cup of coffee to jumpstart your day."

You hummed in agreement and gave him a thumbs up. The blue heart hologram blinked for a few second before disappearing again. Heartman adjusted his glasses and chuckled. Slowly he leant against the railing awkwardly hitting his defibrillator off the metal with a clink. He let out a sigh and took another long sip.

"How was it?" You asked looking over at him.

"Still no sign of them." Sadness flickered behind his eyes for a moment before he smiled again. "However, data is data."

You placed your free hand over his and smiled at him sadly.

"We'll find them one day Heartman, just you wait." You squeezed his hand reassuringly causing him to smile He turn his hand upwards so his palm was against yours and held you hand tightly.

When Heartman had lost his wife and daughter in a void out he would have given anything to see them again. He would travel the beaches and follow the footprints hoping that it would lead him where he needed to go. Instead of seeing it as unsuccessful when he didn't find his family he started using his trips and knowledge to try and understand what was going on. Through his research he had met you.

After losing your husband in one of the attacks you had made it your mission to find him again and began researching BTs. Your speciality was experimenting on ways to capture and observe them in order to see if there was anyway to bring their consciousness back despite them not always having a body to return to. While you studied them you had began making to scale sculptures in your spare time. When a letter from Heartman had arrived in your inbox expressing how impressed he was by your studies and how he would be very interested in owning some of your artist impressions you were taken aback.

You had heard of him before but despite your stories being so similar you never would have thought that you would communicate with him.

The man who travelled to the beach every twenty one minutes seemed like he would have all the research he needed, not that you were going to question his judgment. Within seconds you were writing out a response and picking out a few of your best pieces for him. In the reply you explained that you were thankful for the opportunity to work along side him and that you would have a porter deliver some of your work to him as soon as possible.

He was thrilled when he got your response and even more so when he finally received your package. In his spare few minutes before going back to the beach he quickly got to work placing them around the lab. In his next time window he spent all of it taking in all of the detail he had missed beforehand.

After a few weeks of corresponding though the mail Heartman decided it would be more beneficial for you to move into his lab permanently. Not only would it give you more time to work together but it would also mean no more worrying over if packages would get lost before they made it to your respective laboratories.

After about a year of working together so closely one thing had lead to another and you found yourselves in a relationship of sorts. You both knew that feelings had started to blossom and you both agreed to act upon them. Your previous partners would want you to be happy even if you did continue to research and try to locate them in the meantime. Life was indeed too short after all, especially now.

The love between you and Heartman was unlike any other. You both deeply respected one another's past partners and understood that, while you both loved one another, the love for the families you had had did not disappear. You still kept your wedding ring around your neck on a silver chain and Heartman still had photographs around his lab of his wife and daughter. It worked for you both and that was what mattered. Holding onto the past all day everyday got lonely but sharing your life with someone who truly understood was precious.

As time went on your relationship had been put under a spotlight a few times, being so important in the science field meant that there was gossip. They would question your motives. After all, why find your deceased partners while also being in a new relationship? It made you both extremely uncomfortable but deep down the mutual understanding that you both had didn't need to be understood by anyone other than yourselves. You were both happy in your own little bubble far away in the mountains.

"How much longer do we have left?" You asked drinking what was left of your coffee.

Heartman looked down at the small screen of his AED and frowned.

"We have about twelve more minutes and then I must return to the beach." He too drank the remainder of his coffee and sighed again.

Despite wanting to find his family there were times, like this one, where he wished he could stay for a little bit longer. He wanted to be able to spend more time with you uninterrupted but alas, this was just how things were. As he had always said, most of lifes basic functions did fit rather easily into the twenty one minute cycle, it's a shame that love was not as basic. You made it work thought, hell, you even had a bit of a love life when you were both extremely lucky.

"We should probably head back inside then. I really don't want you to injure yourself... again." You laughed remembering a time before the padded flooring was installed and he spent the rest or the day with an ice pack pressed to his forehead. You lead him back inside not letting go of his hand.

The warmth from the crackling fire inside was a welcomed feeling. You placed the empty mugs on the counter and took a seat on the sofa. Heartman sat beside you and smiled pulling you closer to him.

"How about we watch a movie after I return?" Heartman asked still smiling. "We haven't watched Twenty Minutes of Love in a while."

"Honestly that sounds perfect. I think im due some time off from BT research." You laughed and kissed his jawline before resting your head against his chest.

"You see, I don't get time off but I'd be more than happy to spend all of my down time with you." He pressed his lips to your hairline as he spoke.

"5 minutes until cardiac arrest." Heartman's AED reminded him.

"Oh, shut up. I'm putting you on mute" Heartman's brows furrowed as he disabled the alerts on his machine.

"You know you really should keep that alert on." You laughed. "It's pretty important don't you agree?"

"And have it ruin our time together? What a silly thing to suggest." He pressed another kiss to you hairline causing you to look up at him.

His bright blue eyes observed you closely from behind his glasses and you felt your cheeks blush slightly.

"It's doesn't ruin our time together, it just reminds you when you need to start preparing for your... temporary death. I really do wish we had more time between the cycle. I know you're doing amazing and important work but I guess I'm selfish. I truly hope that this visit offers you more than your last one though. You deserve to be happy."

Heartman made a thumbs up and you heard the noise of a like fill the silence making you chuckle.

"I wish I had more time also. I love my family but I also love you. My cycle, although vital to my research, does stop me from enjoying moments in this plane of existence. I do cherish every moment we have together even more because of my departures, you know that (f/n). It's important that you remember I am happy, both researching and with you."

You smiled again and got comfortable against his chest.

His thumb rubbed small circles on your shoulder as you enjoyed what little time you had. When his hand went limp and the lighting of the room changed you knew it had started. You reached for his hourglass and tapped it against the table in order to rest it. You then unmuted the AED so that you wouldn't share the shock it would administer Heartman. The flat line noise echoed around the room as you quickly set up the movie so that you could enjoy it later without worrying about Heartman missing the end, even if you had watched it one hundred times already. When you had finally finished you sat next to him again on the sofa.

Despite him being dead he looked peaceful, his arm still around you. You didn't like this three minute wait at all. Not only did you not get to hear his voice but it was the not knowing that was painful. You wondered if today would be the day he found his family and you hoped for his sake he did.

You turned and stroked your fingers through his hair. When he was alive it was one of his favourite things you did. He would fall asleep in your lap while you did that if he could. Your hand slowly came to rest on his cheek and your thumb brushed over his cheekbone. That was one perk to his beach visits, you could take in every detail of his face without the fear of him catching you staring. That was one regret you had about your life before the Death Stranding. The world was so hectic with work and stress that you never took the time to appreciate what you had. Every passing day it was getting harder and to picture your husbands face. With no photographs you were left clinging to the memories the two of you had shared. All you had left of him was your wedding ring and you kept it close always.

You were determined not to make the same mistakes again. You took many photos of you and Heartman together and made sure to make copies. You took time out to appreciate all he was. His calming accent, the way his eyes brightened up when he was happy. You refused to miss a moment.

You were pulled from your thoughts by the AED

"Administering shock. Stand clear."

You jumped back just in time to avoid the shock. Heartman sat bolt upright and blinked the tears from his eyes with a gasp.

"Welcome back." You grinned.

He smiled and quickly logged his journey through his cuff. Once he was finished he looked at you once again.

"How did it go? Any sign of th-" You began.

Heartman held up his hand and chuckled

"Come here." Heartman's arms reached for you. You did as he asked and he pulled you close again. " There's time for all of that but right now I believe we have a movie to watch."

You grinned and snuggled closer to him. You were thankful he was putting the beach aside just for now.

Your relationship was like no other. Helping to find long lost families while simultaneously loving the bones of your research partner was a very strange concept. There was a lot of things in this world that didn't make sense but this, cuddled up watching movies as the fire crackled and the snow fell outside... it felt right. So long as it made sense to the two of you then what did the circumstances matter?

You had your work, Heartman and your little bubble in the mountains. To hell with everyone else.

#death stranding heartman #heartman fanfiction #heartman imagine #heartman x reader fanfiction #heartman x reader #heartman #heartman x reader fic

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emjenenla · 7 years ago

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I'm Holding On; Why is Everything so Heavy? [a SoC Fanfic]

Modern AU. Kaz knew he only was only asking because he thought he was supposed to. Most people were like that; Kaz’s multiple lives and many secrets relied on it.

Warnings: violence, panic attacks, PTSD, mentions of car accidents, near drowning, sex trafficking

Title: I'm Holding On; Why is Everything so Heavy?

Author: Emjen Enla (Fanfiction)/emjenenla (Tumblr)

Teaser: Modern AU. Kaz knew he only was only asking because he thought he was supposed to. Most people were like that; Kaz’s multiple lives and many secrets relied on it.

Rating: PG-13/T

Canon/Timeline: Modern AU; same general time frame as SoC (Kaz is seventeen, Jordie is four years older which means he’s twenty-one)

Dominant Characters: Kaz Brekker, Inej Ghafa, Jordie Rietveld, appearances by Jesper Fahey, Nina Zenik, Alina Starkov, Per Haskell, mentions of Pekka Rollins, Jan Van Eck, Wylan Van Eck, Mal Oretsev, one OC, various others

Pairings: technically more Kaz & Inej friendship than legitimate Kanej, mentions of Wesper

Warnings: violence, panic attacks, PTSD, mentions of car accidents, near drowning, sex trafficking

Notes:

- Long story short, I became obsessed with the idea of Kaz in a hoodie riding a subway with earbuds in so no one would try to talk to him and this fic happened. I hope you all enjoy. :)

-Special thanks to wylanvanwreck on AO3 and their story The Mighty Dregs as well as a post by @crows-and-co. Both formed the basis of the thought experiment that became Kaz in this AU.

-Also, why is Jordie in the Fanfiction archive character list as Joshie R.?

Disclaimer: I don’t own Six of Crows or “Heavy” by Linkin Park (the song I got the title from)

Kaz knew that his day was officially a bust when he had a panic attack in third period.

Okay, technically he didn’t have a panic attack in third period. He realized it was going to happen and fled to the bathroom, where he locked himself in a stall and waited until he could breathe again. The bathroom was thankfully empty. If someone heard him, one of two horrible things would happen; he’s be pitied or mocked. He’d lost a lot of his bully shielding when he’d cleaned up his school presence during the switch to high school. That change had been necessary both for Jordie’s peace of mind and to keep Kaz Rietveld and the Dregs lieutenant Brekker separate. Of course, that meant that he’d gone from that scary kid who smoked weed behind the school to a crippled AP student who no one thought could fight back.

Even worse than bullies would be if some well-meaning student told the nurse. Marya Hendriks was one of the nicest people on earth and she meant well, but if she figured out about the panic attacks she’d tell Jordie. Kaz had been hiding his admittedly shaky mental health from Jordie basically since the accident that killed their parents. He knew that was a bad idea in the long run, but it didn’t change the fact that therapy and meds cost money which was something the tragically orphaned Rietveld brothers did not have.

So he hid alone in the bathroom until almost the end of the class period before he admitted to himself that he had to go back. He felt shaky and a little panicky, but he was standing by the sink washing his hands when Jesper came in.

“What are you doing here?” Kaz asked. “You’re supposed to be in class.”

“So are you,” Jesper said. “You’ve been gone a long time. Are you sick?”

Jesper was Kaz’s oldest friend, though they didn’t spend as much time together as they once had. If asked Kaz would blame that on Jesper starting to date Wylan, though he knew it was at least partially because of the Dregs and the ever-lengthening list of things that Jesper didn’t know about.

“I’m fine,” Kaz said drying his hands and brushing past the other boy. “Did Dryden manage to explain anything today?”

“I don’t understand it,” Jesper said. “And neither does anyone else. Can you tutor me after school?”

“Lunch or tomorrow morning,” Kaz said. “I’m busy tonight.”

“Fine, lunch then,” Jesper sighed. He liked to have his lunch periods and he hated getting up early. “I honestly don’t get how you’re the only one who doesn’t get confused by Dryden. Everyone else is struggling.”

“That’s because I’ve long since accepted that Dryden doesn’t know how to do algebra and I don’t try to understand what he’s teaching,” Kaz said. “I still get all the right answers, so there’s nothing he can do to me.”

They reached the algebra classroom. Kaz’s bad leg was killing him after all the time spent curled up in the bathroom stall. He really should have been using a cane, but when the injury had first happened he’d refused. He’d come around to it after joining the Dregs because it turned out a cane was a pretty good weapon. Unfortunately, since the cane was now connected to Brekker, Kaz Rietveld couldn’t start using one.

Kaz opened the door just as the bell rang and students began pour out. He stuffed his hands into the big pocket of his black hoodie and tried not to hunch his shoulders to obviously. Touch aversion was on the list of things he’d pretended to get over to keep from worrying Jordie, in reality it was hard to shake the horror of being trapped with his parents’ bodies in a car that was slowly filling with water. The negligent and painful treatment he’d received from the doctors afterwards hadn’t helped either.

Kaz twisted his hands around the black leather gloves hidden inside his hoodie pocket and tried not to think about how much better he’d feel if he was wearing them. He could wear the gloves as Brekker because he could explain it away as trying to avoid leaving fingerprints, but there was no explanation for Kaz Rietveld wearing gloves.

If he was completely honest, he hated being Kaz Rietveld.

He crossed the room to his desk and began gathering his books. Dryden looked up from arranging papers on his desk. “Are you alright, Kazimir?”

Kaz knew he only was only asking because he thought he was supposed to. Most people were like that; Kaz’s multiple lives and many secrets relied on it.

“Yes, sir,” he said with a submissive smile that he knew Dryden’s ego liked. “Thank you for asking.”

~~~~

Kaz was feeling a little calmer by the time they got out of school. Helping Jesper with algebra during lunch had helped a lot. Kaz loved math; it was easy and straightforward and never failed to make him feel like he was at least partially in control of his life.

When the last bell rang, Kaz made his way through the halls to his locker, hands buried deep in his hoodie pocket. He unlocked his locker and pulled his ancient slide phone out of the front pocket of his backpack. The only texts he had were weird Instagram photos that Jesper had sent him during study hall. No texts from any of the Dregs which meant that things were still on for tonight.

Someone slammed into his back and Kaz almost broke the kid’s arm. He’d learned from being Brekker that nothing kept people from touching you without mockery or pity like the promise of violence to anyone who violated your personal space. Unfortunately, that was on the list of things that were frowned upon at East Ketterdam High.

He glared at the kid until he was gone, then pulled his second piece of ridiculously outdated technology out of his backpack. It was a 4th Gen iPod Nano in an absolutely revolting shade of orange. The thing had been Jordie’s first and bore his dubious taste in color as a result. Jordie had given it to Kaz shortly before their parents had died, and Kaz had been stuck using it ever since.

Still, it was better than having no music player at all. Kaz unwound the black earbuds and shoved them into his ears. He put his playlist of pirated music on shuffle and gathered up the rest of his things. Then he swung his backpack on and left the school.

He made his way to the nearest subway stop. Subways were pretty much the only type of transportation he could manage these days. He was so deathly terrified of cars that some days it was a struggle to cross the street, and buses could still be struck by other vehicles and be pushed off the road into water. Subways ran on tracks and had only limited interaction with other subways, so he could handle them.

The subway was busy enough that there were no seats. No one stood up to offer him a seat, but that was okay; Kaz didn’t want anyone’s pity. He hooked an arm around one of the poles and leaned against it, watching as the stops zoomed by. He finally gave into the urge to put the gloves on. The subtle leather covered his hands, and he felt a million times safer.

He got off the subway at a stop near West Ketterdam High. He was now on the opposite side of the Barrel from his school and the dingy apartment he and Jordie lived in. It was a long trip for what basically constituted as a commute, but when he’d joined a gang he hadn’t wanted to risk running into someone he knew from the East Barrel.

He climbed up the steps out of the subway station and set off down one of the streets. His bad leg was throbbing worse than before after the jarring it had received on the subway. He wormed a bottle of Advil out of his backpack and shook two into his hand. He chewed them so they’d kick in faster and put the bottle away. The Advil would barely help, but his prescription meds were too expensive to use most of the time.

His mouth was still full of the sour, acidic taste of medicine when he reached an old but well-kept house in a dingy side street. He climbed the front steps and knocked. A minute later Alina, Inej’s foster mother, answered the door. She was a young woman and dressed casually, her long, inexplicably white hair was hanging loose around her shoulders. “Hello, Kaz,” she said with a smile. “You know you can just come in. You don’t need to knock.”

“I know,” Kaz said stepping into the house.

The smile Alina gave him was fond and it made Kaz want to do something to wipe it off her face. “Inej isn’t home from school yet,” she said. “I made some cookies this afternoon, though. Do you want some?”

“Maybe later,” Kaz said. “I’ll wait for Inej upstairs.” He tried to avoid Inej’s foster parents as much as possible. He knew that they’d assumed he was Inej’s boyfriend though to be honest he wasn’t sure if he and Inej were even really friends.

He climbed the creaky stairs and headed into Inej’s bedroom. Her foster sister, Nina, was already there lying stretched out on her bed on the left side of the room. Kaz raised an eyebrow. “What are you doing here?”

“I was sick today,” Nina said in an airy voice that suggested she’d just skipped out.

“Fun,” Kaz crossed to Inej’s bed on the right side of the room. He took off his backpack and lowered himself to the floor, suppressing a hiss of pain. Then he leaned over and began rummaging under the bed.

He heard Nina’s sheets rustle as she rolled over. “Is it a big job tonight?”

“You know that I can’t tell you that.”

“Oh, come on, Brekker,” Nina whined. “I thought you’d stop this when I joined up.”

“Whether or not you’re a Dreg doesn’t change the fact that this is an active job,” Kaz said without looking at her. “Only people involved can know about it right now. If you want all the details, I’m sure Inej will be happy to fill you in tomorrow.”

“Fine,” Nina grumbled and fell silent.

Kaz pulled a heavy cardboard box out from under the bed and opened it. Inside were his and Inej’s knives, lockpicks and other equipment. He began separating his favorites out and strapping them to various parts of his body underneath his clothes.

“You know if Alina and Mal find those Inej is going to get in a lot of trouble,” Nina said. “This house has a ‘strict no weapons policy.’”

“I bought all of these,” Kaz said. “That means they’re technically mine, and I don’t live here.”

Nina snorted. “You know, I’m not sure Alina and Mal would accept that loophole.”

Kaz opened his mouth to respond, but something changed, and he knew Inej was there. He turned to see her standing silently in the doorway in her leggings and boots and oversized knit sweater. He didn’t know how he always knew when she was around, but he did.

“Hello,” he said.

“Hi,” Inej crossed the room and began taking her knives out of the box. “How are you today?”

Kaz did not let himself think about the panic attack he’d had that morning. Besides, Inej didn’t know about those so he couldn’t tell her anyway. “Ready,” he said.

“Me too,” Inej said. Settling down to strap on her weapons.

Inej had been abducted by sex traffickers at fourteen. She’d been rescued a year later and put into foster care while the system tried to find her parents. Two years later and it was blatantly obvious that no one was actually looking for Mr. and Mrs. Ghafa, and Inej would probably be stuck in the system until she turned eighteen.

Kaz finished arming himself by sliding an oyster shucking knife into one of his battered high tops. He worked himself to his feet, ignoring the worried look Inej gave him and moved his backpack into Inej’s closet. His cane—a sleek black thing with a rounded knob on top—was also there, leaning against the wall. He took it out and tried not to lean too heavily on it.

“Ready to go?” He asked Inej.

She nodded. At some point she’d changed out of her fuzzy knit sweater and put on a dark-color zip front sweatshirt with a hood that she could pull over her head later to keep her braid out of the way.

“Tell me how it goes,” Nina called after them as they left the room.

Inej called goodbye to Alina at the front door and they let themselves out into the street. At the sidewalk, they turned right and began the walk to the Slat. Kaz knew that Inej rode the bus to the Slat when he wasn’t around. When he’d first started keeping his stuff at her house, she’d suggested they ride the bus a number of times. He’d gotten around it by simply ignoring her and walking; eventually she’d stopped asking.

It took them a little over twenty minutes to walk to the Slat, which was a beaten down four-story building of an indeterminable original purpose. Even though it wasn’t even five o’clock yet, the place still had a number of seedy looking people hanging around. Those were the gang members who made their livings working for the Dregs and nothing else. That was Kaz’s legacy to the gang; before he’d joined up and started running things Per Haskell had barely been able to pay his own expenses let alone anyone else’s.

Kaz let himself and Inej in through the creaky front door, then he stalked across the big front room and knocked on Per Haskell’s door. “Come in!” the gang leader called and Kaz stepped inside leaving Inej outside.

“Just letting you know that Inej and I are here,” Kaz said.

Per Haskell looked up and snorted. “You look like a high school nerd, Brekker, that undercut doesn’t help.”

Kaz looked down his oversized hoodie, dark jeans and old high tops. “This is how I dress, sir,” he said hoping he didn’t sound like a petulant teenager, this was not the first time he and Per Haskell had had this conversation. “If you want me to wear a full suit, give me the money to buy one and I will.”

Per Haskell hacked out a sound that was half laugh half smoker’s cough. “That would be something to see,” he said. “When are you leaving for the job?”

“When it gets dark,” Kaz said. “It should only take us an hour or two”

“I’ll let you handle this,” Haskell said leaning back in his chair and reaching for the large mug of room temperature lager sitting on the desk. He spoke like there had been a chance he would come. Per Haskell hadn’t done any real work in as long as Kaz had known him; he didn’t even know exactly what the plan was, only what the goal was.

“I can handle it,” Kaz said without letting any annoyance in his voice. He reminded himself that his long-term goals relied on Haskell’s incompetence. “Don’t worry about a thing.”

~~~~

When the sun set, he and Inej rode the subway out of the Barrel and into the business part of Ketterdam. At this time of day, comparatively few people were heading into the business district because people didn’t live there, so they were both able to sit, something Kaz would never admit to being relieved about.

After they got off the subway they only had to walk a couple blocks before the headquarters of Van Eck Industries rose up before them. They stood on the corner looking up at the darkened windows. Kaz pulled off the backpack he’d brought from the Slat and pulled out a pair of ski masks. It was almost hilariously like something out of a movie, but they needed to make sure their faces didn’t end up on any of the building’s copious security cameras. They would deal with them, but only from the inside.

They both fitted their masks on and became a pair of extremely stereotypical bandits. Then they headed across the street to the employee entrance. The door was locked with a randomly generated password, but Kaz whipped out one of the laptops he’d bought for the Dregs with Per Haskell’s money and within seconds had bypassed the lock and they were in.

Once they were inside, they made their way to the security room. The guard on duty tonight was exceedingly lazy which was why they’d chosen tonight for the job. When they entered the security room, the man was sitting at his desk watching a soap opera and vacantly munching on potato chips. He obviously wasn’t watching the many security camera monitors around him, because if he had been he would have seen the two masked people slinking through the hallways.

Inej crossed the room on silent feet and punched the man a couple times with a pair of brass knuckles she always kept in one of her pockets. When he passed out, she heaved him out of his chair and began to drag him towards a closet.

Kaz sat down in the security guard’s chair, stuck a flash drive into the computer and released the most potent of his half a dozen custom computer viruses into the system. When he was finished, he glanced at Inej who stood in the center of the security room watching the security footage on the computer screens flicker out. “I’ll never get tired of that,” she said with a smile.

Kaz smiled as well and made sure he kept his face turned away until he could smooth out his expression again. “Whatever,” he stood up, and pulled his mask off. Now that the security cameras were out of commission there was no reason to keep wearing it. “Let’s move. We’ve got thirty-one minutes before the second security guard finishes her round and gets back here.”

~~~~

Jan Van Eck’s office was on the top floor of the building. With the computer virus in effect, Kaz had to open the electronic lock by opening it up and fiddling with the wires, but it still took him less than a minute. He’d started to learn to pick locks at age nine, while in the hospital after the accident and trying desperately not to think about any of the bad stuff. He’d kept practicing afterwards and now he was one of the best lockpicks in Ketterdam.

The door to Van Eck’s office opened into a borderline ridiculously expensive space that was exactly what you’d expect of man of his wealth and famous arrogance to have. A DeKappel painting hung on the wall behind the desk. Kaz and Inej lifted it down to reveal the safe.

Inej stood guard by the door while Kaz cracked the safe. Even though they were in the middle of a big job, Kaz found his nerves settling. Lockpicking was as relaxing as math.

He got the safe open in what he estimated to approximately half the time it would have taken the Dregs’ second best lockpick. He swung the safe door open and shone a flashlight inside to get a better view of the contents. There were stacks and stacks of cash inside along with some other boxes and papers. Kaz whistled softly. “Someone learns to learn that keeping copious amounts of cash in his safe is just asking for it to be stolen.”

“Is there a lot?” Inej asked.

“Yes,” Kaz began taking out the cash. It was all carefully tied up in those little paper slips you got on bills from the bank. Kaz estimated there was around twenty thousand dollars. His fingers itched to take the money for himself. Twenty thousand dollars would take care of rent and food and all that credit card debt Jordie pretended they didn’t have. He pushed the urge away; Per Haskell might be one of the most useless generals in the Barrel but stealing from him was still a bad idea.

Inej left her guard post and began loading up her backpack with money. Kaz dug deeper into the safe and pulled out some jewelry that was probably worth a couple hundred dollars apiece. Kaz stuffed them into his own backpack with part of the money and laptop he’d used on the outside door, then began going through the papers. This was not strictly part of the plan, but Kaz and Inej built their reputation on having dirt on everyone in Ketterdam so it wouldn’t be right to pass up a chance to gain some new information.

He found a couple worthy-looking papers and memorized them in a handful of seconds. When he was finished he looked around the office. His eyes fell on the DeKappel sitting in its frame against the wall. It was probably a nice painting, though all art looked the same to Kaz. Still, it was expensive and the fact that Van Eck had it so prominently displayed meant that it was important to him...

“Do we have a screwdriver?” Kaz asked Inej.

“Yeah,” Inej said still focused putting the last of the money into Kaz’s backpack. “Why?”

Kaz grinned as his heartbeat sped up. This was going to be great. “We’re taking the painting.”

Now she looked up at him, confusion on her face. “Why?”

Kaz’s smile got even bigger. “Why not?”

She stared at him for a moment then she smiled and shrugged. “Sure,” she dug around in the front pocket of her backpack and pulled out a screwdriver. “Here you go.”

It took them almost ten minutes to get the back of the frame off and the painting taken out. Once that was done they rolled the painting up and fitted it carefully into Inej’s backpack. Then they put the back of the frame back on, closed the safe and hung the empty frame on the wall again.

“Alright,” Kaz turned towards the door, pulling on his own, now significantly heavier backpack. “Let’s get out of here.”

They left Van Eck’s office and headed down the stairwell towards the outside. They were almost to the ground floor when they heard footsteps and voices. They both froze and stared at each other. “How long have we been here?” Inej asked.

Kaz checked his watch. “We should still have ten minutes,” he said. “Maybe-”

A door above them opened. Kaz looked up and his stomach clenched. A couple big, burly men Kaz recognized as members of the Dime Lions were pushing their way into the stairwell. He and Inej looked at each other in shock. Where had the Dime Lions come from? Had they just so happened to plan a break-in for the same night?

“You there!” one of the Dime Lions yelled. “Intruders! Stop right there!”

“Run!” Kaz told Inej and they took off down the stairs.

More Dime Lions entered the stairwell from the bottom. Inej slid down the railing of the last flight of stairs and slashed at them with her knives. Kaz reached the bottom a second later and took out one of the Dime Lions with a well-placed swing with the knobbed end of his cane. They shoved their way out of the stairwell. Within seconds they were out of the building through a different side entrance that opened onto a boardwalk facing the harbor.

“Split up,” Kaz ordered. “We’ll meet up later.”

Inej nodded and took off one direction. Kaz knew that within minutes she’d be up a building and well out of any danger.

He, on the other hand, had it a bit more difficult. His leg meant that he couldn’t climb as quickly as Inej could and he couldn’t run as fast either. Still, he would get away; he was way smarter than basically everyone Pekka Rollins had working for him.

Kaz pounded down the boardwalk with the Dime Lions after him. It sounded like most of them were after him. Which probably meant that they’d recognized him and Inej. They knew that he was Brekker, the most wanted man in Ketterdam, and they knew they’d never catch Inej.

He knew he’d never outrun the Dime Lions, so he just needed to find a good place to stand and fight. He turned left and ran along a narrower part of the boardwalk that jutted out into the water. When he was halfway along it he whirled around and lifted his cane, prepared for a fight.

Half a dozen Dime Lions pounded down the boardwalk after him. The front two charged him immediately. Kaz simply stepped out of the way so one ran into the boardwalk railing and beat the other over the head with his cane.

He stepped away until his back was against the railing opposite the one the Dime Lion had just hit. “So what are you all doing here tonight?” he asked with a classic Brekker smile. “Did the Dregs beat the Dime Lions to the pigeon?”

“We’re not Dime Lions,” one of the men said, eyeing Kaz like he was trying to come up with a halfway decent plan to attack him. “We work for Jakob Hertzoon.”

Kaz had never heard of Jakob Hertzoon before, but he also knew for certain that at least four of these people were definitely Dime Lions. You didn’t just switch loyalties in the Barrel, especially if you worked for Pekka Rollins. Something weird was going on here. He and Inej were going to have to look into this Jakob Hertzoon person. “Oddly enough, I don’t believe you,” he said.

“Give back the property you stole from Van Eck Industries, Brekker,” the man growled. That alone proved that he was definitely from the Barrel. Kaz’s face had never been picked up by the government, so no one outside of the Barrel gangs knew Brekker was really a kid.

“I think I’ll keep it,” Kaz said.

“Get him,” the man said and all six of them charged. Kaz swung his cane and caught the closest one in the nose. She screamed and stumbled back. Kaz got the next one too, but then the rest were on him, grasping at his clothes and backpack, shoving his up against the railing. Their touches were a million points of horror. Kaz struggled but couldn’t get free, his cane rolled out of his fingers.

They were trying to get the backpack off him. Kaz tried to twist away from their hands and felt himself fall backwards into space. He was weightless in the air for mere seconds before he splashed into the harbor.

The water of the harbor was cold, dark and dirty. Kaz couldn’t tell if his eyes were open or closed. He couldn’t tell which way was up. He couldn’t tell anything at all, because he was back in that car eight years ago, trapped with his parents’ bodies while the cold, disgusting water creeped inside.

He struggled but it was in vain. He couldn’t get out of the car, he was going to die here. There was nothing he could do to stop it.

Then hands grabbed him and dragged him out of the water. He struggled to get air into lungs that didn’t want to inhale. He was out of the water, he wasn’t going to drown, but now he was going to suffocate.

Hands grabbed at him, trying to sit up him up. They were too much like the bodies of his parents which had bounced and pushed against him as the car filled with water. He shoved the person away. “Get your hands off!” he screamed with all the air his starving lungs possessed. “Don’t touch me! Don’t touch me! Dontouchme!”

The hands vanished, and Kaz collapsed again. Gravel drug into his cheek and that was what reminded him that he wasn’t still in the car; there was no gravel in the car.

He lay there gasping for an indeterminable amount of time until his vision cleared, and he felt like he could sort of breathe again. Then he peeled his eyes open and looked around.

He was lying on his side on a gravel bank underneath the boardwalk, the water lapping a few inches from his shoes. Inej was crouching a little further up the bank, as dripping wet as he was. She must have dived in after him and pulled him out.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I thought you were drowning at first, so I tried to sit you up to see if you’d breathe easier that way. I didn’t mean to make things worse.”

Kaz realized immediately that the game was up. If Inej had been less perceptive she might not have realized what had actually happened, and he might have been able to pull the drowning card, but she knew. He could tell that she’d recognized the panic attack for what it was. He could see her rearranging every interaction they’d ever had--everything about him that had never made sense from the buses to the gloves--to accommodate this new information. He could see her bursting through the armor that was his Brekker identity to the sad, weak, pathetic Kaz Rietveld underneath. It was horrible.

He forced himself to his feet. Cold, slimy harbor water ran down his body. He tried not to think of the car. “Let’s go,” he said attempting to sound normal with dubious success.

“Kaz,” Inej said carefully, still not moving any closer to him, “the Dime Lions left after you fell in the water. We’re safe here for a couple minutes if you want to catch your breath.”

“I’m fine!” Kaz snapped. He tried to walk and stumbled, catching himself on one of the boardwalk supports. “Let’s get back to the Barrel before one of the Dime Lions manages to come up with the brilliant idea of calling the cops.”

“Kaz,” Inej said. “You know you can-”

“Inej,” Kaz spoke over her with his nastiest tone. “Let’s go.”

~~~~

Per Haskell found Kaz and Inej’s sodden appearances hilarious and spend a good five minutes laughing until he had tears in his eyes. He was decidedly less pleased about the soaked money in Kaz’s backpack and the ruined laptop. He told them he was docking part of their shares even though the money would dry out useable enough and he thought the laptops were useless anyways. At least Inej had had the foresight to ditch her backpack before jumping in the harbor, so her half the money and the DeKappel were fine.

After finishing up with Haskell, Kaz and Inej returned to Inej’s house. Kaz had a change of clothes stored there for bloody jobs (jeans, a tee-shirt and another hoodie, this one navy blue) but not a second pair of shoes so he had to settle for being completely dry aside from his feet. He tried not to think about the harbor water squelching between his toes as he gathered up his school backpack and fished his iPod out of the front pocket.

Inej watched him from her perch on her bed. “You know you don’t have to leave just yet,” she said. “There are still some cookies left over from this afternoon. We could watch a movie. I could probably convince Mal to make popcorn.”

Kaz knew what she was doing, she was trying to convince him to stay because she was worried about him, because she thought he was weak. He would not allow that. “I’m leaving,” he said without bothering to come up with an excuse. He had no idea how he was going to salvage this situation, but he was going to have to do it somehow and he needed some space to think about it.

“Kaz,” Inej said. “I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable, but I don’t think that just ignoring that is a good idea. You can talk about it with me; you can trust me.”

He couldn’t trust anyone. He’d learned that in the years since his parents had died. Even Jordie, who should have been his partner in this quest for revenge, could not be trusted. Kaz had something he needed to hide from absolutely everyone in his life.

“No, we’re not going to talk about that,” Kaz said as coolly and Brekker-like as he could. “As far as you’re concerned that never happened. Never bring it up again, and if I figure out that you told someone else--anyone else--I will not hesitant to kill you.”

Instead of flinching back in fear, Inej lifted her chin. “I don’t believe you,” she said. “You’re not that cruel.”

“You should,” Kaz said even if he wasn’t totally sure if he would kill her either. “Good night,” then he turned and left the house.

~~~~

It was now after ten pm, so the subway was nearly empty. Kaz sat in one of the cars, folded over at the waist, his forehead pressing into his knees, eyes squeezed tight closed, earbuds blaring overly loud music into his ears. He couldn’t get his mind off how catastrophically badly tonight had gone. Kaz Rietveld’s weaknesses were not supposed to affect Brekker. Brekker was supposed to be strong enough to get revenge on Pekka Rollins.

One of the curses of having a memory like Kaz’s was that nothing ever faded. Pain never got duller. He could still remember the exact way his dead mother’s soaked hair had felt against his hand. He remembered the way blood had trickled out of his father’s mouth. He remembered struggling to keep his head above water when his leg was too badly shattered to kick. He remembered it all as if it had just happened, and he would for the rest of his life.

Mr. and Mrs. Rietveld had died after a multi-car pileup had forced their car and a couple others off a bridge and into the harbor. Officially, it was just a horrible accident, but the fact that the accident had been orchestrated by Pekka Rollins and the Dime Lions was an open secret among all of Ketterdam. When Pekka Rollins wanted someone dead, they died, but what Kaz had never been able to figure out was who the target that day had been. He knew it was ridiculous to get caught up that detail, but he needed to know. He needed to know who Rollins had been after. He needed to know what his parents had died for, once he knew that, he would gladly rip Pekka Rollins’ throat out and everything would be better.

Kaz wasn’t stupid, he knew that destroying everything Pekka Rollins loved and then killing him wouldn’t fix any of his problems, but he had to believe that. He needed to believe that killing Rollins would be the magical cure for everything that was wrong with his life; he didn’t know how he would keep going if it wasn’t.

The subway arrived at his stop. He got to his feet, hissing in pain. He chewed another couple Advil while he climbed out of the subway station and stuffed the bottle into the pockets of his new hoodie. He headed down the dimly lit streets to the tumbled down apartment building where he and Jordie lived.

Their apartment was a two room, one bathroom flat that they probably paid too much rent for. Still they stayed because as long as they paid the rent, the landlord would overlook anything. That had been especially helpful back when they’d both been minors and their uncle had never been around enough to constitute as their actual legal guardian.

Their uncle had been supposed to take care of them, but instead he’d fooled around and burned through their admittedly meager inheritance before Jordie reached eighteen. He also went on long trips without telling them where he was going or when he’d be back, so they’d mostly fended for themselves. They hadn’t seen him since Jordie had turned eighteen and Kaz privately hoped the man had managed to die, though he doubted they were that lucky.

Kaz struggled up the steps to the eighth floor, wishing the elevator actually worked. Still he eventually made it to the apartment and reached for the knob.

The door was unlocked.

Instantly on high alert, Kaz pulled out his earbuds and slid his backpack from his shoulders. He’d left all his knives at Inej’s, but the backpack was heavy enough to serve as a weapon in a pinch. He twisted the knob quietly and stepped into the apartment.

He made his way silently down the tiny hallway to the main room. He saw the form of someone sitting on the old, saggy couch. He hefted the backpack up and stepped closer, then stopped. “Jordie?”

Jordie jumped and whirled around, getting to his feet. It was obvious he hadn’t heard Kaz come in. His face twisted into a frown. “Kaz! It’s about time!”

“What are you doing here?” Kaz asked. “You work nights on Thursdays.” That was why he’d planned this job for tonight; he knew Jordie wouldn’t be around to notice he was gone.

“We’re not talking about me right now,” Jordie snapped. “It’s after eleven! I’ve been calling you for hours! Where were you?”

Kaz knew he was failing at completely keeping the surprise off his face, he hadn’t checked his phone picking up his backpack and apparently, he should have. “Hanging out in the university district with Jesper,” he said. He remembered that Jesper had mentioned that he and Wylan had been going on a date in the university district tonight, so perhaps if Jordie had called Mr. Fahey this story wouldn’t be instantly disproven. “We lost track of time.”

Jordie ran a hand through his shaggy dark hair. “Kaz, you can’t just wander around the city with no one knowing where you are. I should give you a curfew.”

For as long as Kaz could remember, Jordie had always been a little more. A little taller, a little heavier, a little better looking, a little more trusting, a little more tactful, a little better. It wasn’t until Kaz had created his Brekker identity that he’d truly acknowledged the ways that he was more. He was smarter, and braver, and a better fighter, and a better planner. He was more untrusting and untrustworthy, more hardworking, more reckless, more morally gray, and above all more vicious. Jordie was the better brother, but Kaz was the one who would get them their justice.

That was how he knew Jordie would never go through with the threat of a curfew. Jordie liked things to be easy; he knew that he would have to fight tooth and nail to impose something like that on Kaz and he’d rather not do the work. Kaz resented that on some level, because it was the same method of thinking that kept Jordie from truly trying to seek justice for their parents, but in this situation, it was helpful.

Suddenly Kaz was very tired. He’d had an absolutely horrible day and he really just wanted to curl up on the couch with a warm blanket. He’d make himself a mug of hot chocolate and maybe spike it with that bottle of whiskey that Jordie thought he didn’t know was hidden under the sink. He’d turn on the TV and watch whatever mindless programs were on until he fell asleep. Now his brother was here, and he had to deal with him instead.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

Jordie wasn’t done, “I asked off of work tonight, did you know that? I wanted to spend some time with you. We’ve barely seen each other recently and I thought it would be nice to have a night just the two of us. Instead you spend the whole night galivanting around the city and I was stuck here watching the hours tick by and thinking of all the money I was losing!”

Kaz would not stand for that. “You know,” he snarled. “If you wanted to spend time with me, you could have asked me in advance. You could have said, ‘Hey, Kaz, I’m thinking about taking Thursday night off, so we could hang out. Do you have any plans?’ like any normal person. You can’t just expect me to never have anything going on. I’m not a little kid content to sit around practicing magic tricks and waiting for you to finally have time to notice me!”

That was a low blow, and mostly untrue because while Jordie had had increasingly less time as he picked up jobs to try to take care of both of them, he’d always tried to make time for Kaz. Kaz knew he’d feel guilty about playing that card eventually, but right now it didn’t matter.

Jordie’s mouth opened and closed in shock. “How can you say that?” he asked. “Everything I’ve ever done is to make things better for you.”

“If you really wanted to make things better then maybe you would have stopped our uncle from spending all our money,” Kaz snapped. “Maybe you would try to make Pekka Rollins pay for what happened to our parents!”

“Kaz, I can’t either of those things!” Jordie snarled. “You can’t just expect things to work out the way you want them to all the time, sometimes you have to accept what you get.”

“And sometimes you can’t just lie down and let the machine walk all over you!” Kaz said.

“I can’t bring Mom and Da back, Kaz,” Jordie said. “Getting Pekka Rollins won’t bring them back either.”

“I know that,” Kaz snarled. “I’m not a child, but that doesn’t change that he still deserves to pay.”

“Let it be, Kaz,” Jordie said quietly. “There’s nothing you can do.”

“If that’s the way you want to be,” Kaz said crossing his arms. “Then I don’t see why you’re so angry about where I was tonight. I told you that I was hanging out with Jesper and we lost track of time. I’d known that we were going to hang out for a while, if you’d asked me beforehand we could have avoided this whole situation. Now, I’m going to bed and there’s nothing more you can do about this situation.” Then he turned and stalked off into the apartment’s only other room.

His bed was on the right and Jordie’s was on the left. He peeled off his wet shoes and socks and kicked them as far under the bed as he could so Jordie wouldn’t step on them or something and start getting more suspicious. He took off the gloves too; he was lucky Jordie had been too angry to notice them. Then he threw himself face down onto his bed without bothering to change. Perhaps his eyes were a little wet, but he’d never admit that; Brekker didn’t cry.

Jordie never came into the bedroom, and when Kaz got up for school the next morning he was already gone.

Honestly, I think that one of the things I enjoyed most about this story was exploring the dynamic between Kaz and alive!Jordie.

Anyway, hope you all enjoyed.

Emjen

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montgomerylvbe010-blog · 5 years ago

Text

I'm talking about the racing game Farm Expert 2017 Free

As a child, did you actually dream of extending up to become a farmer, spending the period charging near your rear yard with the toy tractor and trying to capture sheep in the nearby field to bring home with you? No, right us? Anyway never mind, even when that became the childhood ambition, Farm Expert 17 provides the opportunity to held also process the very own farm! The sport is nicely varied, with you having to fully prepare fields before plants can be extended, to ensuring you go livestock or they receive too older and fail, this activity will undoubtedly boost your organisational skills.

Farm Expert 2017's been buried, cultivated and produced by Silden and sold on the local produce market with PlayWay S.A.,FE17 definitely gives a few initial appeal for those who have a good simulation game. The game boasts some fairly clear impression as far as the weather is concerned, a right soundtrack when you hop in your tractor and plenty of to do and keep you tiling away for hours on end.

However, all these pieces are allowed overcome next to certain unfortunate and chronic bugs, together with some fairly horrendous curb and physics for the automobiles. And it is very varied, it goes through from the lack of depth which could leave a little underwhelmed. There is besides a multiplayer side to the game, though moving this to run remains much more akin to brown magic than computer games.

With no tale to talk about let's walk right into the nitty-gritty of what you can do from the entertainment. Since there is quite a bit. Now earlier I right start, I first want to come clean up then influence that was the primary ever really farming sim game (unless I could count Stardew Valley?) so I just want to step early then articulate sorry for any really noob-like comments. Push with…

Setting up is rather cool, after pack in you're satisfied with a menu asking to produce a report which is just a material of making a brand then go away from there. FE17 control a couple of modes you can choose from entering Free Journey and Multiplayer (I'll speak more about the multiplayer in a time). For me, however, the first go-to space lived the Article. There's somewhat of the language screen with some incorrect period and grammar, but after you move history to that all pretty straightforward. It worked out, still, carry everyone almost twenty seconds to figure out the way to help repeal since I stupidly thought it was a clean WASD setup rather than having to press Z first in order to change course. But following these hiccups, I did get myself enjoying the game. There's something strangely satisfying about having to undergo the motions of reversing up to a piece of equipment, hitching it in place, folding this left and then merrily tootling together toward the subject for a day's work.

After I had learned the basics of really turn and farming, I jumped even in work my own fully-fledged farm. You get several options to take from, basically ranging from Easy to Hard. Naturally, as a great amateur, I indicated the Simple option. Thanks to our choice I started off with a great total of currency and a good healthy sum of procedures already in my possession, so I could push right on with believe our former field, gathering a few plants and dealing with work. I found myself rather having my time as a farmer, finally achieving the target of determination a tractor.

Yet, I slowly started to notice a few mechanisms. For starters, the naming of the devices is just not up to scratch, specifically on the route that you'd think will be even but for some ungodly reason cause your vehicles to bump along constantly. The game and makes seem to factor in the swollen weight of things which you hitch upon your tractor, allowing you to accelerate in much the same time as you normally would. After a while, I discovered that the physics from the entertainment might produce some pretty horrendous cock-ups.

And later on, I too discovered that the farmsimulator.eu/farming-simulator-2013-titanium-edition-download/ ground actually took no influence on the swiftness of your car, allowing you to charge full speed up high mountains then carry on your own mini-adventure…

youtube

So of course, the true physics of the competition give something to be needed. But the real gameplay is beautiful varied. So if you don't want to really need in yard and collecting crops all the time, then no worries! You can go into animal husbandry having a couple of different options that animals to keep and ensuring that to hold them fed as well as selling them for meat just before they die of other age. Before you may grow orchards to make your delicious fruit, having to fertilize and obtain the products yourself, and even have to carry the pack to the trailer! But you do want to remain with clear old-fashioned crop farming, in which case you have to take your crops depending on the season, carefully cultivate fields properly and then make sure not to help process them over or otherwise they'll be destroyed!

There's also vehicle preservation with attention to take into consideration, so that you have to cram up your own tractor with fuel and keep that working, make sure it's good and fresh (as apparently, that is chief for tractors?) as well as repair or increase that right away also over again to make life easier.

Pretty varied, just? Right. Unfortunately, that class does not translate to power or order. So sure, you can strengthen the plants, care for being and multiply fruit orchards. But there's no form in charge in the looks, so there's no need to research for improved accept or trade rates like every shop will give the same results. That lack of economy frankly lets down the main practice. Your dogs do need food, but not any run or time away from their pens. You don't still have to feed them yourself so something you buy gets automatically transferred to the pencils plus the beast somehow gain admission to the food themselves. And with orchards, after place and fertilizing them there's nobody more you really need to do until they're ready to be gathered. That lack of depth turns the game into more of an calendar watching experience.

You can hire a staff to help you out, watching them go about the job is vaguely interesting at first, but soon loses the novelty. Other NPCs in the sport don't provide any connection and generally, action to truly hear and give the world a resemblance of lifetime. Without success, I must tell.

There is too supposed to be a multiplayer element to the activity, but lord only gets how we may actually meet people. I've trawled many forums with news say similar problems with no resolution forthcoming. Multiplayer is there a little that is created last minute, so perhaps it will be improved in the future?

The first thing I'd state is how the game does not really have the most impressive image, with some of the textures looking pretty bitter and a significant few popping issues going on. But I'd consider the vehicles looked quite decent generally, and the weather effects were fairly well done. There's something oddly fascinating about watching puddles form with a subject while that raining.

It also gain several terra-forming effects as well, so when you're making the take some of the machines you use actually kind trenches and other alterations from the ground, which changes how the vehicle can operate over them, that is pretty nice. And also since what I understand by making a bit of examining, something that doesn't take place now Farming Simulator activity or different competitors. Character styles are fairly bland and forgettable, but aside from the unnecessary NPCs, there's not really enough characters around to take much notice.

I personally achieved the soundtrack really enjoyable. There was something a little entertaining about the music starting up when you shot in your own tractor. The fact that the thud of the engine changes counting at whether the within or outside of the vehicle was sweet cool too. However, once you noticed the cycling positive make, that begin as a bit annoying. And, when you got out of the tractor your individual would for some reason believe they were leap and reach the appropriate sound. As well as this a handful of the vehicles which got no doors still played the door shut sound each time you got off. A problem for me, but still a virus.

Due to the lack of exposure to previous farming sim games, I found myself enjoying Farm Expert 17 at first, but after I had partaken to all the varied tasks I found myself getting bored fairly swiftly. With eventually a number of the germ can attest to be significantly frustrating. If that match survived a little more developed then obtained selected degree put into it, i would indeed rate it higher. The multiplayer certainly feels tacked upon then the main experience just becomes somewhat of a drag eventually.

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rxbxlcaptain · 7 years ago

Note

How about ... 'I'm not jealous', please?

Thank you all for sending in these prompts!! I’m writing slightly longer pieces for them, rather than limited word prompts I’ve been turning out recently, so they might take me a bit longer. Enjoy this first one, a modern, college AU where Jyn and Leia are ass-kicking roommates.

If you’re interested, feel free to send me a dialogue prompt!

AO3

“I’m not jealous.”

Leia rolled her eyes in response. “It’s not a cardinal sinto have human emotion, Jyn.”

“’Course not,” Jyn replied, attempting – and failing – yet againto catch a piece of popcorn in her mouth. With a huff, she grabbed the pieceoff the floor, ignoring Leia’s groan of the five second rule. “My generalapproach to life is a cardinal sin. Human emotions are perfectly natural. Itjust so happens they don’t fit into my day to day life.”

“You’re not nearly as much as a badass as you think you are,Jyn,” Leia snorted, swiping the bag of popcorn – it was slightly burnt, as italways was when Jyn prepared it, and the bitter taste hung in the air and intheir mouths as they ate it, but it was their last bag and beggars couldn’t bechoosers – away from Jyn’s hands and plopped down next to her on the couch. “Idon’t think underage drinking and sneaking into a few movies quite counts as alife full of cardinal sin.”

“You,” Jyn pointed her finger dramatically at her roommate. “Havenever met my mother. She would be perfectly astounded by the life I live overhere. Besides, I’m not even drinking underage. It’s not my fault Americadecided you needed to be twenty-one before you can drink. Europe does it muchbetter.”

Once again, Leia rolled her eyes. (Besides for herboyfriend, Jyn was the best at getting Leia to roll her eyes frequently duringconversations.) “You are not getting me off topic by starting a debate aboutthe merits of a lower drinking age, Jyn Erso.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Jyn said with wide, innocent eyes. “Did wehave a different topic of conversation? I thought we were engaging in friendly,highly competitive banter. That’s mostly what we do in this room, after all.”

“We were talking about Han staying over tonight, and abouthow you were jealous.”

“I’m not jealous,” Jyn repeated, slower this time. “I justdon’t want to deflower my virgin ears. We sleep five feet away from each other,Leia.”

Leia responded with a slap to Jyn’s arm. “We can be discrete.”She ignored Jyn’s muttered could havefooled me and barreled onward. “You’re just jealous your mysterious man inyour psychology course isn’t staying over himself.”

Jyn aimed a piece of popcorn at Leia’s head, having much greatersuccess than earlier. “I haven’t the faintest idea who you’re talking about,Leia.”

“Sure, whatever you say, Jyn,” Leia deadpanned, rolling hereyes yet again before turning to the episode of Stranger Things playing on their TV.

—

Much later that night, as Leia and Han’s perfectly synchronizedsnores echoing throughout the room, Jyn tossed and turned, mentally relivingher psychology professor’s lectures hoping that, since Dr. Draven’s droningvoice was enough to lull her to sleep during class, it would serve the samepurpose now. Unfortunately, thought of her psychology class brought forththoughts of the only thing that kept her awake during lecture: notes from thescruffy boy with messy handwriting who sat beside her.

He’d been quiet, not even offering a customary “Hello” onthe first day of class, until he’d heard Jyn answer one of Draven’s questionsfor the first time.

“You’re not American,” he’d said in a voice somewherebetween accusatory and shocked. Jyn would have been offended if it hadn’t alsobeen clear from his accent he wasn’t born in America, either.

“Nor are you,” Jyn shot back with one eyebrow raised high onher forehead.

A wide smile grew across the boy’s face, lighting up hiseyes. He extended his hand, saying, “Cassian Andor. Just moved here fromMexico.”

“Jyn Erso,” she replied with an extended hand and smile ofher own. “I’m from England.”

And from there, they’d spawned an instant friendship. Theyshared their notes from lectures, grabbed lunch together after class, andteamed up when Draven assigned a paper on the Stanford Prison Experiment. Theyteased each other, littered their friendship with casual touches and textedduring regular bouts of insomnia plagued them both.

They had never once been on a date.

Several times, Jyn was certain Cassian was leading theconversation towards spending a Saturday afternoon at a movie or a house partywith cheap beer or whatever stereotypical dates college boys thought of, butthe question never appeared.

Not that Jyn minded. It was her first semester away fromhome – in a foreign country, at that – and she needed to focus on scraping up ahigh enough GPA to keep her parents (her scientistparents) satisfied so she could stay in America. The last thing she needed wasa boy muddying her social life.

But as Jyn tossed over again and caught sight of Han’s arm drapedprotectively over Leia’s waist, a wave of jealous swept through her mind. Thethought of Cassian behind her, holding her close through the night, seemed sorelaxing. She wouldn’t have any problems falling asleep then.

With a sigh, Jyn turned to grab her phone off hernightstand. With any luck, tonight would be an evening where Cassian was stillawake, pouring over Wikipedia articles of countries he’d never been to andscientific discoveries he didn’t have the background to understand or forcinghimself to keep his laughter silent to not wake his roommate while he caught upon the most recent season of BrooklynNine Nine.

Thirty seconds after Jyn sent a You awake? text, Cassian responded with a straight-faced emoji.

What’s keeping youawake? Jyn replied, watching the three little dots appear as Cassian typedhis reply.

The pressing concernthat none of the Stark siblings will ever know the others are alive and I’ll beforced to murder the writers of this show. You?

Leia’s boyfriend Hanis over.

Ouch, awkward, Cassiansent back. After a moment, another text popped up on Jyn’s screen. Do you need somewhere to crash?

Jyn’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. She hadn’t been lookingfor an excuse to see him – no more than she usually was, at least – but, if hewas offering…

Won’t Kay mind?

Nah, Cassian typedback. He will not be surprised to wake upand find you in our room.

Unsure what to make of that text, but eager to get away fromHan and Leia’s couple-y atmosphere, Jyn sent, I can be over in five minutes. You’ll let me into your building?

Absolutely. Let meknow when you’re here.

Before she could rethink this, Jyn pulled on a sweatshirtand her shoes, grabbing a pillow off her bed. Quietly, Jyn eased the heavy doorto her room shut and sent Leia a message explaining where she escaped to. She’dget an earful in the morning – she’d finally have to cave and tell Leia aboutCassian – but she figured it would be worth it.

#kat writes #therebelcaptainnetwork #dailyrebelcaptain #jynappreciationsquad #rebelcaptain #I hope you enjoy!#thank you for sending this in!#rogue one #jyn erso #cassian andor #princess leia #han solo #han x leia #dialogue prompts #oh-nostalgiaa

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sunken-standard · 7 years ago

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How about 89 and 32 from Drabble challenge meme? I'm in love with all the universes! I have a soft spot for ‘Sherlock Holmes is an Alien’ verse though. This is me being annoying, just ignore me and write your thing. :D

Okay, so I ended up using both theoriginal prompts, which were already used before, and the new ones(44, 64 & 102) picked by rainmyselfinharmony. I changed ‘he’ to'she’ because I had an idea. Sherlock-Is-An-Alien 'verse; not somuch crack as fluff and a little angst. And kind of boring, becauseI’m pants at exposition when it comes to worldbuilding. I have waytoo much backstory in my head for all of this.

“Are you drunk?”/ “Hewould have really loved that…”/ “He used to be my bestfriend.”/ “If I could go back, I wouldn’t changeanything”/ “Buy me chocolates and tell me everything’sgoing to be okay”

“Are you drunk?” Molly asked,taking in the sorry sight before her.

“Maybe? Drunk is such animprecise term. Your language is so vague and full of…feelings… and impressions. You’ll never get off thisrock until you embrace scientific imperialism as a complete… thing. Paradigm,” he said, sitting up in his chair before slumpingback into it.

“Oh-kay,” Molly said, shakingoff her coat. "I’ll just make you some coffee then?“

"Coffee doesn’t actually—”

“Placebo effect.”

He hummed, either an agreement or adismissal, who knew. She figured she’d make him the coffee anyway.

“So why are you drunk?”

“Told John about the baby and heinsisted on taking me to the pub. Greg was there. And Mycroft. Ithink they’re shagging. Can’t be sure, though, might have just eateneclairs together, which is close enough to shagging anyway.”

“Uh huh. And what about the otherthing?”

“What other thing?”

“The thing about you being fromsomewhere that’s not Earth?”

“Shhh!”

“It’s after nine, Mrs. Hudson iseither already baked or off with Mr. Chatterjee. No one’s going tofind out about your secret identity, Clark Kent.”

“Who?”

“Nevermind.”

Sherlock fell quiet, either dozing orcontemplating something, while Molly finished the coffee. Decaf,because if she had to suffer, so did he.

“I want chocolates. Buy mechocolates and tell me everything’s going to be okay.”

“Wh…hyy would I need to tell youeverything’s okay?” she asked, bending over him to set his mugon the side table. "What did you do?“

"Ejaculated close enough to yourcervix that one lucky sperm cell was able to make it to the egg inyour fallopian tube, thereby impregnating you. Or did you forgetalready?”

“So you’re having a freak-outabout being a dad?”

“John just kept going on and onabout how great it is, watching them grow and knowing you’d madesomething so wonderful, but it’s all bollocks. It doesn’t matterwhat anyone does, they always get something wrong. Look at Mycroft. You’ve met his parents, they’re practically saints!”

“What about your parents? Yourreal ones?” Molly asked. They hadn’t really talked a lot aboutany of it; Sherlock always found a way of avoiding real answers toher questions, except when it was something to do with the actualbiology of his species and how it might affect Marvin (which she wastold not to call the baby because our child is not a cartoon,Molly, I’m not even from Mars and I have nosense of humour.)

“Don’t have parents.”

“So you were an orphan?”

“No, we just… don’t have them. Once people in our society reach optimal sexual maturity, they make acontribution to a kind of collection centre. Then their DNA ispaired off with the most suitable genetic match and the strongestembryos get incubated.”

“Wow, eugenics. So you might havebrothers and sisters? Are you raised together, or is it like BraveNew World?”

“I don’t know what that is,”he said.

“It’s a book. Maybe a film, too,I’m not really sure. Science fiction.”

Sherlock made a noise. "Molly,almost everything your people call 'science’ is fiction.“

"Oh, why thank you,” she saidlightly.

“Not you. You’re very goodat… measuring… things. And identifying other things. It’s notyour fault your species only has the most rudimentary grasp of itsown biology, you work with what you have,” he said, making agenuine effort to compliment her.

She gave him a look and he stoppedtalking, proving that even he, who thought he knew everything, couldlearn. After a beat, she prompted, “So you were saying aboutyour— family?” She didn’t know if that was the word for it.

“Not exactly a family. We’reraised in small groups of children of a similar age range and fromrelated lineages, more or less like a nursery. Once physical andintellectual abilities, personalities, and proclivities start toemerge, we’re split up and moved into specialized groups. A bit likeyour schools, actually, with houses and different academic tracks. And I do have one genetic sister, though the biological relationshipis unimportant in our society. She used to be my best friend.” Sherlock sounded quite sober then; she wondered if it was some alienmetabolism thing or if he could control his state of inebriation orif he’d just been putting on a bit of a show. There was a hint ofsadness there, too, she thought.

“Used to be?”

“We had a difference of opinionand now she’s on a prison planet orbiting the event horizon of ablack hole. Intergalactic SuperMax.”

“Oh. So you put your sister injail.”

“No, she put herself in jail. Sheseized control of the interplanetary government for a time and in theprocess blew up two planets and made a third unfit for habitation forthe next eight millennia,” he said.

“Wow.”

“She was always ambitious.”

“So is that whole thing why youwere exiled?”

“Exiled? Who said anything aboutexiled?” he said too quickly.

“You did, the night you told meabout yourself and we found out about Marv—the baby.”

“It wasn’t so much as one isolatedincident as a cumulative set of things. I didn’t have anything to dowith Eurus’ coup, if that’s what you’re wondering. I was in adifferent solar system at the time. She’s actually the one who sentJim after me to bring me back. I wonder if she knows he went outwith a bang. She would have really loved that…” he said, awistful note to his voice.

Molly was beginning to think she mightbe carrying Rosemary’s Baby.

“So your sister knew Jim? But Ithought he was from a different planet.”

“He was. Planets are like postcodes to the rest of the galaxy. Honestly, calling Earth a backwateris a kindness.”

“So we’re a bunch of hicks.”

“'Hicks’ implies that you’resimply a more rural part of a larger society. You’re more like oneof the last uncontacted tribes of the Amazon.”

“Oh, how lucky of me, a simplesavage, to have been impregnated by Dr. Livingstone himself,”she muttered.

“That’s rather reductive,”Sherlock said, scowling. She wasn’t sure if he meant towardshimself, or towards the uncontacted Amazonians. Probably better tojust let that one lie, lest her crazy half-alien baby hormones makeher slightly homicidal.

Then something occurred to her as sheremembered something he’d said a few minutes before.

“So you said you contributegenetic material… Does that mean you might already have otherchildren out there?” She really didn’t know how to feel aboutthat.

“Nope. Optimal age for a woman issometime in her early to mid-twenties, for a man it’s betweenthirty-five and forty-five to ensure longevity, so I’m right onschedule. Too young when I left to make my contribution, though Iexpect they’d have skimmed me out of the gene pool anyway. I supposeit’s possible I’m an uncle, though, as far as that goes.”

“You weren’t trying to get mepregnant, were you? As an experiment?” She tried not to letthe sudden anger she felt come through in her voice. She failed.

“No, of course not. You’re myfriend. More than a friend. Girlfriend, lover, partner, paramour,beloved, whatever. Not really my area, at least up until recently,”he said, dead-sober.

Beloved, she thought. Did thatmean…? She couldn’t bring herself to ask. She made anon-committal noise and went to take her mug back to the kitchen.

Sherlock lay with his face pressed toher belly, his hand resting on her hip. He did that a lot, sometimeswhen they weren’t even in bed.

“Are you communicatingtelepathically with the baby?” she asked. The question was onlyhalf in jest; there was still so much she didn’t know about him. About them, she supposed.

“Uh, no,” he said shortly. He didn’t offer any further explanation or make some kind ofsarcastic remark about her telly-watching habits.

“Sherlock,” she began afterthe silence dragged on, “do you hate it here?” It had beena weird night and she was in a weird mood. She didn’t know what shewas saying or why she was saying it, really.

“It’s not where I thought I’d endup and, as far as assignments go, it certainly leaves a lot to bedesired, but even if I had it to do all over again, even if I couldgo back, I wouldn’t change anything,” he said, turning hisface and pressing a kiss to her stomach.

It was so oddly tender that she feltherself getting choked up over it; she blamed the hormones. She ranher fingers through the curls at the nape of his neck and tried notto let herself think too much about how impossible it all seemed.

#rainmyselfinharmony #drabble ask meme round 3 #sherlolly #sunken's secret stash

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forkanna · 7 years ago

Link

[AO3 LINK] [EF LINK]

All the way to the Other Cup, I was pretty quiet. Knives kissed me. Or I kissed Knives, or whatever. AGAIN! This was getting pretty ridiculous by now. I mean, it was one thing when we were shitfaced and making out because we weren't sober enough to know better, but what excuse did I have now? None. Yeah, I could have tried saying "I was worried about her falling and the emotions were running high," but the truth is that wouldn't happen if we didn't both think about it before the moment came. So nah, I won't hide behind that.

Until we had a table, we chatted about small things. Then Knives dove right back in.

"Soooo, can I be totally honest? Like, it's making me want to crawl under the table, but…"

"Yeah, fine. Go for it." I wanted to say "No, please stop." But maybe if we got it out of the way, we could move on a little faster and I could spend less time wanting the same thing Knives wanted: to hide.

"Okay. So, um… that was a great kiss." When I groaned and slumped lower in my seat, she went on, "Seriously! Like, I've only ever kissed you and Neil in a way that was… y'know, more than just a peck like with Scott. But for serious, it's so much better when you're sober."

"Ugh… I feel so gross that it happened when I was wasted." When her smile slipped a notch, I held up a hand. "Not because it's you! Just, that's a crappy way for a kiss to happen, even if it's the first or last kiss, or whatever. Probably a really normal thing, but you know what I mean."

"Yeah," she half-laughed, scratching her cheek. "First kiss, huh?" Then she perked up slightly, saying "Washroom, be right back!" That came out of nowhere. But when I only shrugged, she went skipping off with her purse swinging back and forth.

While she was gone, I sipped at my espresso and tried to take stock. Maybe Knives really didn't mind. Anything: that I was a girl, that I was a real asshole of one… that we both slobbered all over each other while intoxicated instead of this being our first kiss, under the monkey bars after I caught her from falling like any normal couple.

And those thoughts only made me feel more panic rising. A normal couple. Parts of my brain sure had hopped on the Pinechau bandwagon in a fucking hurry! But whenever I tried to think of real, legitimate reasons not to try going out with her — at least try it once, I failed. She was sweet, and earnest, and already seemed pretty open to the idea. Probably was holding back her interest level because she could see me hitting the roof the way I was.

What about sex? Was I ready to bang a chick?! Maybe not. But then again, Knives never spent any time talking about anything sexual. She would if I brought it up, but otherwise she seemed more interested in other subjects, like martial arts, music, talking about old times… kissing me. Bedroom stuff could probably wait a while.

As I saw her emerge from the restroom, looking relieved and satisfied with her "mission" in there, I smiled to myself before she could catch me doing it. Knives Chau… about the same height as me, but a little shorter. Did that make me the guy? I mean, I know they say that's not really how lesbians work, but I'd never been one before. Or whatever I was turning into. I didn't know if I could handle that. Bossing her around was kind of fun because she "played along", but the minute she gave a hint she was upset, I crumpled like a cheap suit. Well, that was fine; I hated those kind of He-Man neanderthal dudes, anyway. Sure as fuck didn't want to be one.

How naturally all these thoughts came to me was a little scary. One kiss in the park, and I was already picking out china patterns. No pun intended.

"Sorry," she whispered with an apologetic smile as she sank back into her chair. "What'd I miss?"

"An existential quandary." Sighing, I sat forward again. "So."

"So?"

"Um, if I tell you that… I don't want to kiss you again, what would you say?"

Her answer came a lot faster than I expected; only a second or two of her looking up and away, before she focused on me again. "I'd say that's cool. We tried it, and just because I liked it doesn't mean you had to."

"You liked it!" I breathed in shock, and she grinned. Then I rubbed at my face with both hands. "Fine, fine. Hypothetically, let's say it's the opposite; that I did like it and that I might want to do it again. What would you say?"

"I'd say… we could do it later tonight. At your place?" When my face began to feel cold, and my hands shook, she reached out and laid one of hers on top of mine. "Or not. Probably smarter to like, let this chill overnight and see how we feel in the morning, huh?"

"Y-yeah. Yeah, that's… let's do that."

White teeth flashed in the light as she grinned. "You're too cute, Kim. I mean it, and not just because of the kissing. I always thought you were both cute and cool."

"A rare combination indeed. Geeze… it's not freaking you out at all that a girl kissed you? An older girl?"

"Not that much older," she scoffed. "What, twenty-two?"

"Twenty-four." Another shrug, so I let that drop. "Okay, so yeah, we're both… young-ish, it's not like I'm a cougar. But you're a teenager so it's kind of…"

"I'm not in high school, though. Don't forget that." She took a sip of green milktea, which Julie had made without complaint this time. Probably got chewed out by her manager. "But nah, I don't mind. Scott's the same age as you. And Neil was my age, but he was so not ready to date, so that's… like, yeah, I'm pretty sure I'm alright with it if you are."

Those were all fine points, and I couldn't argue against any of them. "Well, maybe I don't even want to do that. Maybe I just want to be friends with benefits." Then I facepalmed. "Like kissing. Not jumping straight into the sack. God, why can't I talk today?"

Of course, the only effect that had was making Knives blush. "Y-yeah, I'm… really not sure how that should work. Even if we were a normal boy and a girl, or whatever, I'm still pretty… um, virginal."

"Really? You and Neil didn't…?" She shook her head. "That's right, I think you said."

"Anyway, I'm cool with, um, taking it slow. Or not taking it anywhere! All up to you."

My face fell into my hands again and I groaned, "Someone kill me. I didn't sign up for this when I became your friend. It was supposed to be easy, because you're so nice… and now look where we are. Will-They-Or-Won't-They-opolis."

That seemed to take Knives' breath away for a few moments. I didn't know why until she found her voice again. "Well, there is one good thing about this freaking you out."

"Oh yeah? What?"

"Too many distractions to keep pretending you aren't a good person."

"Yeah? Well, I say I'm terrible. Are you saying I'm lying?"

"To yourself," she countered, which I couldn't pretend to disagree with. This little smirk of hers might have been the very first time I ever saw Knives looking smug about anything, and even then, it was way less than most people I know are capable of. "I knew you were good under all that grump. Just… didn't like people to know for some reason? I guess? But you just told me I'm nice."

Blinking, I had to sit back in mild confusion. Did I really say that? Guess so. My face was trying to turn red again, so I lowered myself down into the seat and grumbled, "Shut up."

"Okay, just to make sure: when you say 'shut up' to me, you really just mean that I'm probably right and you don't want me to make you admit it, right? Because if you really want me to stop talking… I could."

The little thrill of guilt that shot through me kept me from saying, "Yes, stop talking forever." Instead, all I did was reach across the table and hold her hand.

"Omigosh," she breathed very softly, eyes widening as she stared down at our unified fingers.

"NOW you have to shut up, before I run away from this café."

~ o ~

Not long after that, we made our way back to my place. Just when I had started to get used to having her over, it not being a weird thing, this happens. Now she's… what, my girlfriend? I don't know, but it's weird and I don't like weird. There's enough of that in my life already.

"It's kinda cool that we can just be… whatever," she glowed with a big smile, clasping my hand and swinging it back and forth as we got closer to my building. "Friends with just kissing."

"Right." Then, because I can't keep my giant mouth shut, I say, "What if I decide I want that, instead, though? The whole 'dating' experience."

"What do you mean? Like… picking you up and giving you flowers?"

"Yeah. I mean, just because I'm taller doesn't mean I should be 'the boy'. You can have that dubious honour."

Knives didn't look very happy about that. "Oh… no thanks. I didn't think you were the boy before, though…"

"Well, most people would. And I'm barely taller, so you can be the boy sometimes, right? Just… I don't know, this isn't really my thing."

"I don't want to be the boy," she repeated… and there was something new in her tone. Bitterness. Not a lot, and it might just have been anger that came out sounding different because she was not a person who was used to being angry at her friends. But it certainly sounded like that. Either way, any idiot could tell she was dead serious in a way I was not used to hearing Knives be serious.

"Uhhh, yeah, forget it," I said, still blinking and trying to get my brain and my mouth to sync up. "Sorry."

"Good," she sighed, then walked a little closer so that she nudged me. "And it's okay, just not really interested. Anyway, isn't the whole point of us being friends and, um, making out that we can both be girls? Since the whole reason we kissed the first time was we got drunk and started talking about how terrible guys can be sometimes."

"That's true." But I still felt like I should be apologising even more than I already did. And had no idea why. But she got her next words out before I could find my courage; was probably hiding down in my liver or something.

"Dooooo you wanna make out a little tonight?"

My immediate response was "NO!" But when Knives only blinked at me, I squirmed. "Ugh. Fine, we'll see how I feel when we get there."

And once I got there, I did feel like it. Not at first, because my heart was pounding and my forehead sweating, even just while talking to Knives about some guy who tried to get her to buy him a bag of chips in exchange for a "rare" American nickel. It was stupid; I was trying to convince myself that we could just be friends, and yet all I could focus on was the kiss from the playground, how nice her weight had felt in my arms, how soft and perfect she was. Like a druggie getting that first hit.

"...and nobody ever saw her again," she sighed. "But stray cats are pretty common, I guess. Still feel bad."

"Yeah," I sighed, lounging back against the chair, legs dangling off the side. Knives was on the couch, but still curled up very neatly in the corner closest to me, legs tucked under her. Most of her glass of juice was gone, and my water. It had been a while.

Seemed she had either run out of stuff to talk about, or she noticed I was having trouble focusing on her random stories, because her arm lifted until she could poke the freckle on my toe. "Cute."

"Right," I laughed, kicking at her. She grinned and looked down at her knees. "Like there's any part of you that's not cute."

A half-second later, I was slapping my hand over my mouth. Knives blinked at me, obviously flattered, and I wanted to turn into goo and seep down into the chair seat and disappear… but before my embarrassment could make my cheeks more than a shade or two darker, her smile came over bittersweet.

"Oh… there's at least one, right? Nobody's perfect."

"Never said that. You're a pain in the ass. But… a cute one."

Again, the bashful look. "So are you." We both kind of looked into each other's eyes. She swallowed, I sat up a little straighter.

"Knives?"

"Yeah?"

"Go home. It's pretty late, and we both have work in the morning."

A little disappointed, she sighed and got up from the couch. I walked her over, leaned against the door jamb while she put her shoes back on and grabbed her bag. Then she shouldered it and smiled up at me.

And I kissed her. Sober me, this time knowing full well that it wasn't a dream, without adrenaline from a near-fall, pulled Knives Chau in for a lip-lock, running my fingers through her hair, and feeling her turn into putty in my hands. It didn't last for more than a minute, maybe two, but by the end of it we were both gasping for air and smiling.

"Wooooow," she breathed.

"Yeah, wow. Get out."

That only made her smile, leaning up to leave a tiny peck on my chin. Then she whispered, "Text you when I get there" before heading out into the night.

To Be Continued…

#kim pine's precious little knives #jessica writes #scott pilgrim vs. the world #scott pilgrim fanfiction #knives chau #kim pine #forkanna the writer

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