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alrightberries · 4 years ago

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strawberries and cigarettes (always taste like you)

❈ pairing: levi ackerman x reader

❈ genre: angst ❈ word count: 4k

❈ summary: Levi celebrates Christmas Eve the only way he knew how: getting drunk and high on a rooftop while thinking about you.

❈ trigger warnings: drinking and smoking. mentions of violence, gore, blood and death. brief mention of sex. profanity.

a/n: canon compliant but also kinda not? idk if they have cigarettes in the aot/snk universe or if they celebrate christmas so just roll with it.

Smoke puffed out of Levi’s lips, slowly dissipating in the chilly December night. The breeze that passed by caused goosebumps to rise on his skin, a product of the winter’s unforgiving coldness, and the thought of getting off the rooftop where he sat in silence briefly crossed his mind. His office wasn’t that far and it wouldn’t take that long to quickly grab his coat, but the longer he stayed and stared at the dark sky, the more he found himself not caring about the cold breeze or the below zero temperatures.

He took another puff from the cigarette in his hand, eyes drifting towards the barracks where the rest of the regiment most likely was at this hour. The torches and lamps scattered around the base glowed a warm orange-y yellow, a contrast to the whites and blues of the snow and darkness. It looked gorgeous, almost, and Levi silently chuckled to himself at the sickening thought of finding anything beautiful at this fucked up time of year.

Christmas Eve.

A time for friends. A time for family. A time for people to gather around the fireplace and drink warm beverages as they sang songs, told stories, and eagerly waited for the stroke of midnight to open and exchange their gifts.

What a load of bullshit.

Christmas Eve was Levi’s version of a pain in the ass. It was a holiday filled with a bunch of cadets greeting him with a warm and cheery ‘Merry Christmas, Captain’ every time he passed them in the halls, and he would only respond with either silence or a brief nod of acknowledgement. Not to mention, it was also the time where Hanji would try to get him to celebrate different festivities in an attempt to cheer him up.

It was technically a week-long headache for Levi, with the eccentric soldier- for an entire seven days prior to Christmas- trying just about everything in the book in attempts to get him to sit around the fire with the other squad leaders or even do something as small as switch out tea for hot chocolate to match the holiday spirit. It seemed like Hanji’s excessive invitations would always get worse around Christmas Eve, but of course, it never worked.

Levi took a swig of the whiskey he’d brought with him onto the rooftop, extinguishing the cigarette he was holding and lighting a new one once it had reached its end, before taking another deep inhale of the stick of nicotine.

Indeed, Christmas Eve was nothing but a pain for Levi.

Perhaps Hanji thought of him as lonely. Maybe Erwin had even just half a mind to worry about his well-being. But truth be told, Levi did celebrate Christmas Eve in his own little way: at around 10 o’clock at night, without fail, Levi would make his way onto the highest rooftop of their current base carrying nothing but whiskey, nicotine, and strawberries. From there, he would drink and smoke until midnight came, at which point he would start to eat the strawberries he’d brought. Then he would drink and smoke some more until he felt like his liver couldn’t handle it anymore, before eventually making his way back to his quarters at 4 o’clock in the morning and attempt to get his drunk and high mind to rest.

It was his fucked up little Christmas Eve tradition.

The first year Hanji had noticed that Levi wasn’t around the base for their Christmas Eve celebration, they went around asking people if anyone had seen him, to which everyone would reply with ‘No, I haven’t seen him, sorry.’ When the second year came around, Hanji once again noticed that Levi was gone and no one had seemed to know where he was. So when the third year came around, they waited for him to leave his office and stealthily followed him around the base to find out exactly where Levi runs off to during the holidays. Hanji got caught, of course, and by the third time they’d gotten caught (and almost strangled each time) they knew it was best to stick to pestering him rather than following him.

Levi grimaced at the memories of Hanji trying to follow him around, him sensing it immediately and going around the base in an attempt to shake them off his tail, failing, and eventually just resorting to telling them off (Oi, four-eyes, how much longer do you plan to stalk me like a creepy old pervert?)

He sighed.

He wasn’t always like this. He used to enjoy Christmas Eve and doing all the cliche holiday traditions that came with it; sitting around the fireplace with Isabel and Farlan and playing the guitar, pretending not to care about their tone-deaf voices as they sang their own version of holiday songs, never really knowing the lyrics but knowing the tune and making up words to accompany the melody as they go.

Where did he go wrong?

It was around his second bottle of whiskey and his second (or third? He couldn’t remember but didn’t really care at this point) packet of cigarettes when Levi’s fuzzy mind would finally unlock the memories he’d kept at the very back of his mind- a place where he couldn’t reach them and they couldn’t reach him. Memories he’d repressed years ago, never to be thought of, never to see the light of day. Except on Christmas Eve.

He closed eyes as he exhaled, lying down on the rooftop’s snow-covered shingles as he carefully set down the bottle of whiskey next to him, just within his reach. He went through cherry-picked memories of his life Underground once again, relishing in the warmth and happiness he once felt when he was with Isabel and Farlan. But at the very corner of each memory, always within his peripheral vision, was a fuzzy character- a person, no doubt- laughing. Smiling. Holding his hand. Playing with his hair. Kissing him good night. Bandaging his wounds. Showing him tricks with a knife. Making tea. Talking with Isabel and Farlan.

He took another swig of the bottle of whiskey, eager to make the fuzzy memory vivid in a way that only the drink that burned his throat could do. His heart skipped a beat as the blurry edges and lines he’d superimposed into his own mind cleared and revealed the one person that made this living hell a bit less terrible, and the only reason why he ever did his little Christmas Eve tradition.

For a moment, it felt like he was floating on air as he finally got a good look at the character that he’d tried so hard to erase from his mind but never could. His mind may have forgotten but his body still remembered, and he felt the tips of his fingers tingle not from the cold but from the memories of a touch, a touch so endearing, a touch so warm, a touch that felt like home. A touch that was unmistakably you.

Mind fuzzy from the alcohol and head just a little light from the nicotine, Levi can faintly remember the moments he’d shared with you during his time in the Underground.

He remembers being homeless after Kenny had left him, then meeting you as you both ran into each other- quite literally, at that- when you stole bread from a bakery and made a run for it as two angry adults chased after you, cutting him a deal that if he helped you get out of it alive then you would share your measly loaf of bread with him. He remembers teaming up with you from that day onward and watching each others’ backs, sleeping in alleyways and taking shifts for safety, rummaging through garbage cans for food before Levi decided that enough was enough and robbing a stall so you both could eat that day.

Faintly, he also remembers the day he joined a gang that promised him food, shelter, and a steady paying job if he could prove how strong he was by beating up a rival gang member. He remembers getting jumped by three other people as he beat up the man he was told to pummel, fighting them off and winning without so much as a sweat. He remembers the gang he wanted to join eagerly inviting him after the fact, and he agreed on the condition that you came along too.

He remembers the first time he’d taken a shower after years of being filthy, and how clean and fresh he felt without the dirt and grime caking his clothes and his skin. He remembers hearing the door to his small room open- knowing that it was you- and turning around so he could marvel at how clean he felt. But his words died on his tongue as he took a look at you, hair clean, face visible, dirt free, and looking ever-gorgeous in the clothes he’d bought you the day before using his blood money. The clothes weren’t fancy in any way at all, just simple clothes that he bought on a whim when he realized that you’d been wearing the same unwashed garments for years, but he remembers it was enough for him to decide that, even though he didn’t understand what it meant when his heart sped up and the tips of his ears started to burn whenever he was around you, he liked looking at you when were clean. He liked being clean.

He remembers the first time you kissed him. He was sat on the bed of your shared room, gritting his teeth as you stitched up a cut on his forehead and berated him for being so careless, being too confident, on one of the jobs his boss had assigned him. He finished the job, of course, his ability to get the job done without fail being the main reason why he was assigned so many assignments in the first place, but it didn’t make you less angry when he walked into the room with bruised knuckles and a large gash on his forehead. He remembers staying silent, breathing through the pain of what was essentially surgery with no anesthesia as your berating slowly died down and he could finally see in your eyes the worry you tried to conceal with anger. He remembers taking your hand in his after you’d finished cleaning up the materials you used to administer first aid, gently pulling you down to sit next to him as your hands reached out and cradled his face, careful not to touch the freshly sewn skin as he slowly leaned in until his lips met yours.

He remembers the first time he had sex with you, how it was nothing short of awkward and clumsy as two teenagers tried to figure out what goes where and how to do this and that. You were both each others’ first, that much he knew, and though the first time wasn’t as hot and steamy as everyone had worked it out to be, he still enjoyed it because it was you. He remembers cradling you in his arms that night as you fell asleep, a small smile on your peaceful face, and he made his first silent promise that night: that he’d do anything within his power to keep you safe and happy.

He remembers Farlan and the support he gave as Levi worked his way up to a higher position in the gang’s ranks, inevitably becoming the leader through his skills and hard work (a result of the second silent promise he’d made to himself: that he would work hard and become successful enough that you wouldn’t have to lift a finger to live a decent life.) He remembers taking you out of your small shared bedroom and moving you to an actual house that you could call your own; it was barren and filthy and needed a lot of tender love and care, but it didn’t matter- as long as you were with him, he was home.

He remembers getting his hands on some ODM gear through the black market, training Farlan to become his right-hand man as you stayed within the base and administered first-aid to any member of his gang that needed it. He refused to let you learn how to use the gear, fearing that if you were to be seen doing his dirty work with him then you would become a target of both rival gangs and the Military Police. You didn’t mind, perfectly comfortable with staying at home and handling the more business side of things that involved pay distributions and document blackmails.

He remembers meeting Isabel that fateful day she barged into your home, scaring away the thugs who chased after her and accepting her into the group, your odd little family of dysfunctional orphans now complete.

He remembers spending Christmas Eve with his little family, sitting around the fireplace as you laughed at one of Farlan and Isabel’s stories, hand tightly clutching his as he silently reveled in the peace and happiness he managed to find in the least happy and least peaceful city within the walls. He remembers you telling him to close his eyes as the clock struck midnight, eagerly placing a cardboard box on his hands and apologizing for not wrapping it because you couldn’t afford the wrapping paper anymore, money already spent on the gift itself. He remembers his heart swelling as he opened the box, a beautiful porcelain tea set staring back at him as Isabel and Farlan proudly proclaimed that they also got him a copper kettle and some quality tea leaves to match your gift. He remembers scolding the three of you for spending so much money on such lavish gifts, but you dismissed him and said that it was alright, the little extravagance and months of saving being well worth his present for Christmas and his birthday (which were, coincidentally, the same day).

He remembers the Christmas Eve after that. He remembers the three of you shyly apologizing for not getting him a gift, still recovering from your lavish spending the year before, and he said it didn’t matter because he bought whiskey and cigarettes to share. Faintly, he could still hear Farlan asking him what the hell cigarettes were, and he explained that since the whiskey itself was expensive, he couldn’t afford cigars and instead opted for the cheaper synthetic version of it. He remembers being sat on the roof as you laughed and drank and smoked until sunlight peeked through the gutters on the ceiling of the Underground, clumsily making your way back inside your home to sleep (really, it was mostly you, Isabel, and Farlan who were clumsy. Levi had a high alcohol tolerance and though he grumbled about having to always babysit the three of you when you drank, he always made sure that you were all tucked into bed and snoring away before he himself went to sleep.) He remembers it becoming a tradition for your little family, something that you did every Christmas Eve after that.

He remembers the mysterious nobleman who sat in his little carriage, offering a job to Isabel, Farlan, and himself in return for a generous fee and citizenship to Wall Sina. He remembers rushing home and relaying the news to you as you held his hand, happy that they would be able to go above ground, a privilege that few had. He remembers kissing your forehead and promising to use the money that came with the job to buy you citizenship as well, promising that he would take you above ground and show you the sky. He remembers you crying, tears of joy falling down your face as you kissed him, silently thanking whatever higher being there was that you met Levi.

He remembers his last day in the Underground, gearing up with Isabel and Farlan as they prepared to execute their plan of getting “arrested” by the Survey Corps and taken above ground to finish the job. He remembers your sad eyes and the way you tried to conceal them with a smile, yet he saw right through your act and promised he’d be back for you. He remembers sarcastically asking what souvenir you wanted for him to bring back after the job was done, and you kissed his nose before saying you wanted strawberries, a rare delicacy in the Underground but commonly found above. He remembers agreeing, giving you one last kiss farewell before they set out to do the job.

He remembers sitting on the barracks’ rooftop with Isabel and Farlan, admiring the heavens. He remembers being in awe of how beautiful the moon and stars were, the way they twinkled and shined in the darkness of the night. It was the first time any of them had ever seen the sky. He remembers smiling as he sat between his two closest friends, a feeling of wonder and serenity washing over him as he made another silent promise to himself that night: that he would show you the sky the way he sees it now, with your little family.

He remembers the horror he felt the day after when he rushed back to Isabel and Farlan in the battlefield, finding nothing but Isabel’s severed head and Farlan’s torso on the ground. He remembers the pain, the anguish, the despair that ran through him as he yelled and cried, killing the titan that murdered his friends and ripped away half of his family before collapsing on the ground, realizing that there was no point because he was too late. He remembers Erwin telling him that he knew what he was up to all along, but he was more than welcome to stay in the Survey Corps if he so desired. He remembers agreeing numbly, mind still reeling at his loss. He remembers realizing it had almost been an entire year since he last saw you, but he was too ashamed and in too much grief to come back empty-handed. He had failed the job. He had no money. He had no citizenship for you. And he didn’t have Isabel and Farlan anymore.

He remembers working hard for the next couple of months, realizing that the longer he stayed alive the more money they would pay him. He remembers the day he realized he finally had enough money to buy you citizenship, immediately requesting for time off on Christmas Eve, planning to finally come back to you and fulfill his silent promises. He remembers stopping by the local market, buying a fresh basket of strawberries as an apology for making you wait so long (and also because he still remembered your request), before heading to the Underground the day before Christmas to surprise you.

He remembers feeling nervous yet giddy as he walked to the location of your home, thoughts of finally seeing you for the first time in so long filling up his mind. Nervousness was replaced with worry the closer he got to your home, and he realized that something was horribly wrong. He rushed to the house, fresh bodies littering the front steps as he tried not to step on them. Blood dripped around him, and he knew that whatever happened, happened recently. The door was already open, and Levi wasn’t sure what he was expecting as he cautiously stepped inside but he already feared the worst. Just then, he heard a loud thump followed by a groan coming from your shared bedroom, and Levi rushed inside. He remembers the way his heart stopped at the sight he saw: you, bleeding out on the floor, multiple stab wounds on your abdomen and struggling to breathe. He remembers dropping the basket he held, strawberries scattering around the floor as he rushed to your side, fear turning into panic as he clutched you in his arms.

“Levi,” he remembered you whispering with a weak smile. Your hand reached out to brush a stray strand of hair away from his face. “You came back.”

He remembers scoffing because of course he came back. He promised you he would.

He remembers trying to put pressure on your wounds but not knowing where to start because you had been stabbed so many times and there was only so much he could do since he only had two hands. He remembers you trying to stop him, telling him it was no use. He remembers yelling at you to shut up, okay? You’re not fucking dying on me. Not now. Not ever.

He doesn’t remember crying, however. But he does remember you reaching out once more to wipe at his cheeks, and he was briefly aware that somehow his cheeks had gotten wet. He remembers you holding his hands that were still trying to put pressure on the wounds, begging him to stop, Levi, please. You and I both know it’s no use.

He remembers the unmistakable sound of a grandfather clock’s bell, signaling the strike of midnight. He remembers holding your hand as you weakly looked up at his face, a small smile on your lips as you whispered “Merry Christmas and a happy birthday to you, Levi. I love you.” before your hands fell limp in his.

He remembers collapsing, yelling out your name as he held your corpse in his arms. He remembers shifting, feeling an empty basket bumping against his leg, and he’s suddenly reminded of the strawberries he’d brought as he rushed to gather them all up with shaky hands and put them in the basket once more. “I brought you strawberries, just like you asked.” He remembered saying, pathetically placing it down next to your head. But it was too late. He was too late.

It was gang activity, most likely retaliation. He remembered the Military Police saying. You’re lucky, actually. They left just a couple minutes before you arrived.

He doesn’t remember what happened after that.

But he does remember that he broke all of his promises to you. He remembers that you never even knew that Isabel and Farlan were dead. He remembers that you never even got to see the sky or breathe in the fresh air. He remembers that you never even got to know what strawberries taste like. He remembers that he was too late. For you. For Farlan. For Isabel.

He was always too late.

The feeling of something cold and wet on his cheeks snapped Levi from his reverie. He sat up, silently cursing the snow that fell on his face as his hands wiped at his cheeks, letting go of the bottle of whiskey in favor of blindly looking for the strawberries he’d brought up with him onto the roof. He felt numb. He wasn’t sure if it was due to the cold, the alcohol, the nicotine, or his own heartbreak at the memories he tried to suppress. He never allowed himself any time to mourn, instead choosing to keep all those memories under lock and key somewhere within the dark crevices of his mind, only to be opened on Christmas Eve, the day he lost it all.

The day he lost his entire family.

He shifts, suddenly aware of the small box in his pocket. As he took out and opened the small black velvety box, he noticed more snowflakes had melted on his cheeks, the gold ring staring back at his face for a few moments before he angrily closed it once more and shoved it back inside his pockets, its weight feeling as heavy as his heart.

He was too late.

Silently, Levi realizes that snow wasn’t falling. He realizes that the wet on his cheeks isn’t from the snow melting on his face, but rather, from his own tears as they slowly came down in gentle streams.

The bell tower rang throughout the base, signaling the stroke of midnight. Bitterly, he took a bite of the strawberries as he lied down once more, reaching for the bottle of whiskey.

Merry Christmas and a happy fucking birthday to me.

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#this was supposed to be fLUFF believe it or not #writing #aot x reader #attack on titan x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #snk x reader

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ahgaseda · 5 years ago

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enough | one

even if everyone else leaves me, you’re enough for me, you’re my only one, stand by me forever, only you, just you...

summary : to survive as a single woman in the big city, you resort to letting rich men pay for your company, but never anticipated that your first client would be the boy you once loved, Jinyoung.

warnings : strong profanity, explicit dialogue, references to prostitution, mentions of gang activity, graphic sexual content, potentially triggering elements involving mental health, panic attacks, etc.

miniseries chapters : one / two / three / four / five / six / seven

“Sorry, Mom,” you apologized under your breath as you stepped into the warm, bustling hallway of the agency. The building may as well have been your second home at this point, considering you spent most of your free hours under its roof.

Your place of business lay hidden beneath a layer of secrecy, operating within the guise of an illustrious marketing firm. After all, prostitution was still very much illegal. But evading the law in such sparse times had become an undeniable artform for creatures of the underworld.

However, you had yet to jump from that hyperbolic bridge. Until today. Hence the apology to your mother.

Being an escort that didn’t have sex with her clients had allowed you to earn enough to survive. Men paid for your company, nothing more. They took you to candlelit dinners or upper class events, because in the world of preternaturally rich people, having a gorgeous slab of meat on one’s arm was a blatant demonstration of funds.

Also, if the society they ruled knew who they actually slept with, their careers would be over as quickly as they began.

When you first came to the big city from your humble hometown in the countryside, you swore to yourself you would never sell your body to make a living - no matter how comfortably you could thrive if you did. But keeping your head above water was no easy feat and you were thrust back into the bottomless pit of debt and insecurity.

Seoul had become more and more expensive around you and you could feel the sensation of water rising over your head, drowning you in the hopelessness of it all. Your hopes and plans for the future were costly and the bank refused to grant you any more loans.

Then, you were reminded that sex sells. You had the advantage of being a woman in a world of ravenous men. Your employer had always given you the option of stepping into darker circles when you needed more. You met every criteria on the checklist of powerful, wealthy suitors.

Who needed dignity anyway? It was but another luxury you could not afford.

“We have just the client for you,” explained Seokjin, predictably diplomatic when discussing every dirty detail of his illegal business arrangements.

You were more than grateful and certainly never faulted him for it. Seokjin was a remarkable boss, especially considering his line of work. He had spent more than his fair share of time on the streets from a young age and he grew to provide individuals a safer, more regulated way of earning money the only way they knew how.

“He’s new,” Seokjin added, breaking you from your reverie. “Never hired before. Specifically asked for a virgin.”

“I’m not a virgin, boss,” you deadpanned, inevitably daydreaming of the one man that had ever known how it felt to be between your thighs.

How many years had passed since you last saw him? Four or five, maybe. In your mind, you tried to play clueless with yourself, but truth be told, you knew the exact day you left him down to the very hour. The bitter memory was fresher in your imagination than recalling what you ate for dinner the night before.

Seokjin twirled a pen through his knuckles before resuming his notes. From what you knew, he preferred to document everything in excessive detail. That was the lawyer part of him. Knowing that your own employer had worked his way from streetwalker to successful attorney and business owner gave you a blossom of hope for your own future.

“I’m referencing your lack of sexual activity with any of your previous clients,” Seokjin clarified, his tone level. “You have served as a public escort, not private. Emotional, not sexual.”

You nodded your understanding, already missing the simpler days that would soon be forgotten to you. Though life had abandoned most of its simplicity since you moved to the big city. Weighted under the gravity of your decision, your thoughts drifted back to that fateful morning when everything changed forever.

The rain had poured from the blackening sky and you were relieved the drops would conceal your own tears. Thunder roared with a vengeance and drowned the shouts following you as you leapt into the truck that would bring you to the city.

Your boyfriend had been a step or two behind, slamming his hands on the door and begging you to stay with him at the top of his lungs. You watched him through the window, apologizing over and over in a pitiful chant. His yelling turned to pleading and desperation, and when the truck drove away, he chased behind it.

Eventually, you lost sight of him in the rainfall as you sobbed uncontrollably. You could only imagine how long he had spent running after you.

Seokjin called your name tenderly and you blinked back to your surroundings, shifting anxiously in your seat in an attempt to rouse yourself. Meeting his gaze, you made some off-handed comment about lack of sleep, but to a man whose entire survival had once completely relied on the sharpened skill of reading people, you were an open book.

“You don’t have to do this,” he lamented, sympathetic. “The women that choose this path, do so because they want to. Clearly, you do not.”

Your experience with sex was narrow, that much you were certain. Given you had been out of the metaphorical saddle for almost four years, you wondered if you were even remotely good at the act anymore. The only partner you had ever known was heavily biased, in your opinion.

You recalled how it felt to ride him, wincing at how hard he could grab your hips while he begged you to slow down just a little, afraid he would blow his load too early. Getting off on the heady feeling of power with how easily you could ruin him, you would giggle and quicken your pace, grinning with victory when you felt him shudder with release beneath you.

“No, I do,” you insisted, readjusting your position in the chair at your unclean thoughts and the way they made your pulse throb. “I do, honestly. You know I wouldn’t waste your time unless I was sure.”

Seokjin sighed, recognizing the signs of someone who had made up their mind. After a short pause, he diverted your attention and asked, “How is school?”

“Good, actually,” you chirped, delighted he would opt to change the subject to something less heavy. “The general requirements are all done which means I can spend more time focusing on my major.”

“You’ll make a great doctor,” Seokjin crooned, sincere. “I just know it.”

You smiled. The compliment and vote of confidence warmed your very soul.

Seokjin wasn’t obligated to smooth your feathers. He was your employer, but he also served as a confidant and friend to those who needed him. You were the type of girl that never should have darkened his doorway, but life forced your hand and rather than accept defeat, you clawed a path over every obstacle you faced. Seokjin admired you for that and recognized you as someone that reminded him of his own tenacity.

Noticing you had relaxed, Seokjin gave you a reassuring simper before returning to business, informing, “There will be a function tonight. Lots of powerful people will be mingling and your new client will be present. I can have you added to the guest list and you can meet him, but only if you feel ready.”

You appreciated the fact your first meeting with the client would be in a crowd full of people. A man willing to pay for his own personal sex toy must have been a low-down dirty bastard, you surmised. Frankly, you were terrified to meet him, expecting he would see you as an object to possess and not a human being capable of pain.

The saving grace was you had unshakable faith in Seokjin. He screened every client personally and had a zero tolerance policy toward any form of abuse. Plus, he employed some of the most no-nonsense bodyguards you had ever seen. Your personal favorite was Hoseok. He was number three on your speed dial and your emergency contact on all medical forms at the university.

“Just like that?” you questioned, skimming over the document Seokjin pushed toward you. It was puzzling to you - how easy sacrificing a part of your soul would be. You naively expected some bells and whistles.

Seokjin hummed an affirmation and responded, “There’s absolutely no commitment to do anything physical with him tonight. He will be made aware as well. You have to agree to a contract of consent with him established by this agency because money is involved, similar to the ones you have had before. Tonight, you simply meet him, get to know him. Then, in the morning, you give us your answer as to if you wish to proceed.”

Signing your name on the page, agreeing to an initial evaluation with a potential client and swearing not to engage in any sexual activity with him until a contract had been signed, you acknowledged, “I understand. Thank you.”

Your employer accepted the document and slid the page into your file, tucking the folder away into his locked drawer. With that business concluded, Seokjin laced his fingers together over his desk and mentioned with a smile, “The event tonight is formal. I suggest you buy a new dress. Use the company card. We will add it to his bill.”

You chortled and stood to leave, shaking his hand and saying, “Pleasure working with you, boss.”

Seokjin rose and squeezed your fingers. “As usual, the pleasure is all mine.”

Making the long, arduous trek to your little apartment, you kept your head lowered, eyes on your shoes and every labored step you took. You wondered how many days from now you would be heading home in a walk of shame. Tears threatened behind your eyes, but none appeared. Your reserves were empty from the amount of crying you had done over the past few weeks.

Not long after you departed the agency, you came to a stop before a large stone building with a courtyard set in the center. Surrounded by well-trimmed hedges, students glided in and out.

The medical school you hoped to attend within a year or two was a massive, daunting building, but you had seen the inside during a quick tour and knew the place to be modern and professional and - in your humble opinion - warm and welcoming. Excitement gathered in your chest at the sight and for a moment, you remembered the determination you kept stored deep down and tapped into the current for the remainder of the day.

Your father was a farmer. Your mother was also a farmer. All of your neighbors within a ten mile radius were - big surprise - farmers. You were born and raised in a little town surrounded by nature and you were taught to cultivate the land from a young age.

But your heart was in a hospital and had been since the first time you were able to speak to your physician during a routine annual check. You told him you wanted to treat the sick and to your surprise, he encouraged your dream with a smile.

From that moment on, your mother rebuked you for wanting to abandon the family tradition of agriculture, as she called it. People like you and her were never meant to aspire to anything greater than the hand life dealt them, she said.

Your father, on the other hand, secretly fueled your plans at every turn. For your tenth birthday, he bought you a stethoscope which became the most sentimental item you owned. It was one of the few things that had survived your journey to the city when you ran away.

The town you came from left much to be desired. Once a simple place for hard-working residents, machines and modern advancements turned an entire way of life on its edge. Soon, your home became a breeding ground for gangs, using the rural, poverty-stricken lands for a perfect nest to hide from the law and conduct their devious affairs. Name any contraband and it was run through your streets; guns, drugs, and even women. Anything and everything was available for the right price.

Not much time passed before everyone came to recognize a simple principal: you either got in the gang or the gang got you.

You couldn’t abide by that and you would rather leave than accept it. Your heart yearned for the simple life of those that came before you; the straight and narrow path of working hard with your hands while earning your education. Without any options, you ran and turned away from your home, never looking back. And to your dismay, the big city was even more ruthless.

But you couldn’t go back. It wasn’t a matter of pride... it was the boy you left behind. You couldn’t come home and see the devastation left in your wake. Even your own family had broken all contact with you when they discovered you sold your body as an escort for wealthy men. No matter how many times you tried to convince your parents you weren’t sleeping with these people, they didn’t believe you. And you couldn’t blame them.

They didn’t know you anymore.

What you quickly learned was the city was no different from your little town except the stakes were higher. You had much farther to fall. The players in such a dangerous game were ruthless and influential and walked in plain sight without fear of consequences. You had heard the other girls chatter about the clients they regularly entertained and how deep they were in when it came to the illegal way of life.

You had most certainly jumped from the frying pan and into the open fire.

These same men meandered through the room you entered that evening, themed with gold and maroon for the elegant fundraiser. A few took long, lingering glances at you, shameless with their intentions as their eyes hovered far too long on your ample curves. You paid them no mind and made your way to the bar.

The gown you wore for your first meeting with the potential client was sultry purple. “A statement of royalty,” the dressmaker had exclaimed when you tried it on. Of course, she would say nearly anything while trying to entice you to spend a lump sum on one of her pieces. Given the money wasn’t coming out of your own account, you had no qualms when it was time to swipe the company credit card.

Hell, this man would more than likely be fucking you in the near future. He could splurge for a dress.

The thought made you overthink, as you often did, and you sipped your wine while you sat at the bar. From what your forthcoming coworkers told you, selling your body to the right man was a gold mine that surpassed security and landed in excess. Most spoke of riding a man so good the reward was a luxury car or a penthouse apartment overlooking the city.

You tried not to be disgusted, but it was a rebellion against everything you had been taught about respecting your body. You never thought you would reach this point in your life - putting a price on your own head to survive.

“Hello, beautiful,” greeted a husky voice at your side, an older man offering you a glass of bubbling champagne.

Jolting from your internal monologues, you turned and bowed your head politely, speaking your greetings shyly. A shudder of remorse tore through you. Would this be your future? To be owned by a man who had accrued enough wealth to feel he was entitled to your body as he pleased?

Briefly, you remembered the boy who had stolen away your heart. The boy who was patient and gentle with you at every turn. The same boy who was always tempted to fight any man who didn’t give you the respect he felt you deserved. Damn it, you knew he would hate you for what you were about to do.

“Don’t ever let another man touch you,” he had whispered in your ear once while taking you against a wall.

Soaked to the bone from an impromptu dive in the neighborhood lake that quickly devolved into a tangled mess of limbs, your boyfriend lost any and all patience when you begged him to soothe the ache between your thighs from his hot, wet kisses. You cried out his name softly as he held your hips and bounced you up and down to meet his thrusts, filling you with his cock and making stars appear behind your eyes.

“I won’t,” you swore against his neck, gasping for breath and locking your ankles around his waist.

He nipped at your jaw then, groaning in the back of his throat at the scorching heat of you around him, and growled possessively, “Because you’re mine.”

Fire gathered behind your cheeks, clouding your head, and you blinked rather rapidly as you tumbled out of the memory. God, you had almost forgotten how good he felt, skin against skin. No man would ever make you feel that way again, not that you had even given one the opportunity. You had tasted paradise and no one else could ever hope to compare.

Reminding yourself to pay attention, you focused your gaze on the visitor offering you a drink, realizing rather quickly he was not your prospective client when he failed to utter your designated alias. Clad in a fitted suit, the man introduced himself by his position and holdings and then proceeded to flirt borderline aggressively. The moment you could cut in between his words, you graciously told him you were expecting someone. Offended that you dared dismiss his entitled ass, he rose from your side and stormed off, taking the untouched glass of champagne with him.

You exhaled to release your irritation, drumming your manicured nails on the counter and resting your head on your free hand. The longer you waited, the more you wallowed in indecision. Could you really go through with this?

Suddenly, your phone rang and you pulled the vibrating device from your clutch. Your brow furrowed when you didn’t recognize the number, but you answered anyway with a rushed, “Hello?”

“Did that bastard really take the drink with him?”

You chuckled at the annoyance in the stranger’s voice and glanced around to see if any of the men at the fundraiser could be holding a phone to his ear.

Finding no one on their mobile, you nodded and replied coolly, “Yes, he did, but I prefer my wine anyway.”

“Is that so?” the stranger rumbled. “Hand your phone to the bartender for me.”

You narrowed your eyes in surprise before calling the pleasant server behind the bar over. Giving him your phone, adding that you were as clueless as he was, the server chuckled at the caller and echoed after a moment, “Your tab? Got it.”

You took your phone back from his outstretched hand and purred, “Very generous of you, sir.”

The caller chuckled and persisted, “Anything you get goes on my tab and I took the liberty of ordering you a White Russian, if you don’t mind.”

“We have made the jump from wine to liquor so soon, have we?” you joked, thanking the bartender when he made the drink and slid the glass your way. “May I ask, why a White Russian?”

The caller took a sip of his own drink as he leaned leisurely against a pillar and mused, “You look like the type of girl to nurse one while you scan around the room for me.”

You giggled, amused. “Well, you’re in luck. They are my favorite.”

“Imagine that,” he sang, but you failed to hear the lack of surprise in his reply. “Take your time with it. You need to be coherent for this conversation.”

The assertiveness in his voice snared your attention, because there was something strikingly familiar about it. With a smirk, you rebuffed, “Are you implying I am a lightweight?”

The client chuckled ever so subtly and replied, “I would never insult your alcohol tolerance, but yes, you do strike me as one.”

“It seems you are right again for the most part,” you admitted, giving the room another glance over for participants on their phones and finding none. “If I start singing Fall Out Boy at the top of my lungs, I’ve officially reached my limit.”

This time, he openly laughed.

The sound registered deep within you, because this delayed sense of familiarity was growing stronger.

“Alright, pretty lady,” the caller asserted, steering the conversation with a firm hand though he sounded rather young and carefree to your ear. “What is your game?”

You shrugged nonchalantly and returned, “I’m not playing any games.”

Abandoning his hiding place alongside the pillar, the stranger was quick to interject, “You most definitely are and I’m more than ready to play with you.”

You wanted to be ashamed at how effective his banter was thus far. You found yourself biting your lip and resituating on your bar stool. The rush of flirtation was pleasant, foreign to you after so long. Personally, you greatly enjoyed verbal sparring and rarely could someone hold their own against you.

Glancing at your glimmering fingernails, you sighed as if in deep contemplation, “Life is merely a game in the grand scheme of things. Isn’t it?”

He hummed an agreement before offering, “As are relationships between people.”

“I agree.”

“I like to hear you agree with me,” he confessed lowly, voice dropping an octave.

To which you replied, “You are easy to agree with, sir.”

Then, he quickly veered back to his easy-going and flirtatious manner to whisper, “I’m still trying to get a read if you’re submissive or if you just try to appear that way because you think it’s what I want.”

You swallowed nervously, viscerally reminded of the situation you were in. Harmless flirting had been fun, but now you remembered why you were here in the first place - to be someone’s plaything. To be used and used until nothing was left of you.

At your conflicted pause, the caller coaxed, “I’ve spooked you, little one.”

You came back to your senses and stuttered over your words, “No, I, uh...”

“Take a breath and sip your drink.”

You obeyed without a second thought, welcoming the liquor and swallowing a mouthful. Your conscience was too strong for this, but the duality of him had you snared like a wild animal lured into a false sense of security. He balanced adeptly between hot and cold, reeling you into a disarming sensation of safety before trapping you in his clutches. Because all the while, you knew he was a dangerous man and yet he made you brush aside your instinctual fear of him.

“Well, well, well, you are a bit submissive,” the stranger taunted, obviously pleased at how mindlessly you had heeded his order with no resistance or snark. “But you’re skittish.”

“Am I?” you sassed skeptically, glancing around with narrowed eyes. “Are you an expert on me now?”

He tsked his tongue and muttered, “And there’s that little streak of fire. I like it.”

You flushed. Your mind raced at the thought of your potential client. He had a way with words and he clearly enjoyed the banter. It seemed he wasn’t intent on just bending you over a surface and having his way with you.

He wanted to play.

Rising from the bar, you tucked your clutch to the inside of your arm and carried your drink, still holding the mobile to your ear. As you glided across the marble floor, you scanned the room for men on their phones, ready to hunt.

“You know what they say about playing with fire,” you smarted, words hushed.

He chuckled and sounded as if he were also in motion, potentially avoiding your gaze. With a smirk, he asked, “Are you going to burn me?”

“I might,” you replied boldly. “But I get the feeling you would like it.”

“You’re right about that. How the tables have turned. Are you reading me?”

You snickered, licking your bottom lip before sipping your drink. After swallowing the alcohol, you exhaled and asked cautiously, “Can I be honest with you?”

He nodded, slinking behind a pillar, and spoke almost sternly, “If anything between us goes beyond tonight, I want you to be honest with me always.”

That response surprised you and you didn’t bother to hide it. For all his potential danger, he didn’t instill in you a feeling of maliciousness. You were becoming less and less afraid of him. “I appreciate that,” you finally told him.

“Hit me.”

Stopping in your tracks, you turned on your heels, surveying the upper decks in the massive gallery, and inquired, “Why do this?”

He growled, “Why pay a woman to fuck me?”

His blunt words sent a shiver through your body. This man didn’t carry much fear, that you could tell. You were intimidated by your potential client already and you hadn’t even laid eyes on him. Pinching your lips, you hummed, “Mm.”

“My job mostly. I can’t have a normal relationship in my line of work. And I’m not the type who should try,” he explained without hesitation. There was nothing dishonest or remotely offensive in the way he spoke to you, which made you wonder what kind of position your client held that would lean him toward this inclination.

But you remembered something he said previously and turned his words back on him when you remarked, “You’ve already brought up submission. I think you like the power balance this would give you.”

There was a pause. Then, he exhaled, “You’re right again.”

You smiled victoriously, taking a sip of your drink, and resumed walking across the room.

The caller chugged some of his own alcohol; you could hear the ice cubes clinking against the glass. “I know you’ve never done this before. I specifically asked for that,” he began, sounding piqued with interest.

“Yes,” you murmured, shivering at where this line of question might go, but knowing you had opened the door in the first place.

“Why are you doing this?”

Flinching, you felt your heart clench. For a moment, your mind showed you that hated memory - of the only boy you ever loved chasing you down as you scrambled into the truck. He beat both hands on the door and screamed those exact words to you at the top of his lungs.

Shaking your head to snap out of your thoughts, you played cool and echoed, “Why am I agreeing to let someone fuck me for money?”

He was entirely unaffected by your language as he said, “Yes.”

Frowning at the mental image of bills piling on your coffee table at home, you answered, “Because these are hard times.”

That was a valid enough reason for him apparently. “I hear that,” he rasped.

Pensively, you nibbled on your bottom lip as you walked through the sea of patrons, tasting the slightest remnants of the White Russian on your tongue. Accepting defeat when you still found none of the men on their phones, you asked demurely, “Any more questions, sir?”

Playfully, he chuckled and teased, “No, I just wanna flirt with you some more.”

You scoffed with a roll of your eyes and said, “I’m listening.”

“I’m watching the way you move,” he sang, drifting from his perch. “You’re beautiful.”

Spinning in a quick circle, with a simple statement you were reinvigorated to find your client and called with curiosity, “Where are you?”

Amused, he easily ignored you and continued, “You’ve passed through a crowd of people and everyone has moved out of your way. Did you even notice that?”

Glancing around to see a small empty radius around your presence, you whispered in disbelief, “No.”

It was time for him to take control. Monitoring your movements from above, the caller couldn’t help but lick his lips at the sight of you, at the way the violet gown hugged your curves and displayed your beauty in all of its glory.

Finishing his drink, he continued, “You walk with confidence. You’re assertive and commanding.”

Something was nagging at you, tugging on your instincts as you meandered through the crowd. Your mind had already solved this mystery, had already put the pieces of the puzzle together, but you were in too much denial to accept the signs.

The client moved to another shadow, noting your gaze kept passing over the gallery above, and taunted, “If I were any other man and I saw such a stunning goddess coming toward me, I would fall to my knees and worship her.”

“What a silver tongue,” you droned, feigning indifference. As a waiter passed by, you discarded your now empty glass on their tray.

“My tongue is ready to do things to you, sweetheart.”

You stopped, biting your lip again, and persisted, “You said, if you were any other man. Are you implying you wouldn’t bow down and worship me?”

He swallowed the last mouthful of his drink and chuckled, “You don’t fool me. I know what you are.”

Hesitating, you resisted the urge to be offended, but the feeling seeped its way into your voice when you asked, “What I am?”

Licking his lips like a predator on the prowl and moving in for the kill, he elaborated, “You’re a rare breed.”

Approaching the stairs to the overhead gallery, you tapped your fingers on the bronze railing and ordered, “Keep talking.”

“The world has made you strong and hard. You demand respect because no one has given it to you. Even when you’re afraid, you can convince everyone else in the room that you are fearless.”

Brow furrowed, you questioned, “And that’s rare?”

“You, my dear, are no lion. You are a lamb.”

You stopped, blinking in surprise. A glimpse of his face flashed in your mind and for a moment, the world began to spin around you.

He resorted to a guttural snarl as he continued, “You may try to convince the world you are the untouched goddess who needs no god, but behind closed doors you wanna scream and beg for Daddy to fuck you harder.”

Saliva had gathered in your mouth. You knew your client when he spoke in that tone, a tone you once knew so intimately. The years had made his voice deeper, more mature and roughened by the cruelty of life experiences.

But you angrily cursed at yourself for not recognizing him until now.

At your lack of a reply, the stranger pressed coyly, “Am I close?”

A memory tore across your mind of the man who once called you the love of his life, the way he held your face and told you he would never leave you. You remembered how raw and firm his voice had been when he promised to fight every battle that needed to be fought to keep you safe.

Hands shaking, your voice broke when you choked, “Jinyoung?”

For the first time since the call began, there was only silence on his side of the line.

The absence of an answer served as confirmation and you furiously shouted into the phone, “Jinyoung!”

“Took you long enough.”

Before you could utter another word, the call went dead.

next chapter →

a/n : this story was previously Lacuna on my old blog, minheoney. I’m really excited to finally finish it! This fic was my baby for so long and I’m ridiculously happy to give it a new home :)

Hey there, beautiful! If you enjoyed this, please leave a like or reblog or follow me! Or maybe buy me a coffee so I can keep writing? Or check out my masterlist here for more stories! Thanks for reading :) - Katya

This work is fictional and for entertainment purposes only, but is licensed and protected under a creative commons attribution-noncommercial-noderivatives 4.0 international license. Any instances of plagiarism will be dealt with accordingly. Do not re-post or translate without my permission.

#got7 fanfiction #got7 #park jinyoung #got7 smut #jinyoung smut #got7 fanfic #got7 fic #jinyoung fic #park jinyoung smut #got7 scenario #got7 reaction #got7 imagine #jinyoung imagine

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calumrose · 4 years ago

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Trigger [Police/Gang!AU] Chapter 7 || C.H

A//N: I feel like I haven’t updated in so long when in reality it’s only been 3 days. I’ve got so many WIPs right now, and I am so excited to post more! So keep an eye out for those! But yes, here is chapter 7 for all you lovely people! Thank you to everyone who has been reading this so far, I really appreciate it!

Word Count: 11.6k

Summary: Eloise Gray and Calum Hood, not two people you would ever think to put together. What started as a ploy for power turned into a romance, resulting in the realisation that loving your enemy may not be such a bad thing after all.

Previous Chapters: Prologue / Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6

12 Days Left

The constant honking of traffic, the incoherent chatter of bystanders, and the smell of excess petrol had become comforting to Eloise over the years. It was the natural scent of the city she resided in; the smell always so unbearably strong that it practically embedded itself in the noses of the visitors the city welcomed every day. And as much as Eloise wanted to escape and explore new places, she knew it would be a smell she would miss, even if only a little.

Central Park had only ever been a place she visited with friends, typically because the likes of Paige and Jackson lived in that side of New York, it being quite literally on their doorstep, unlike the rest of them who had to travel in order to visit the well-known location.

“Fancy a trip to the zoo?” Calum’s question caused her eyes to break from the sight of the busker to her left as they entered the park. She looked in the direction of where his eyes fell, looking towards the zoo entrance in all its glory along with the crowded queue that was almost painful to think about.

“Maybe another time,” She chuckled, not really in the mood to stand in a queue for god knows how long and pay a ridiculous price just to look at animals for a few hours, “Why don’t we just find a place to sit and have a conversation like normal people?”

“Normal people?” Calum’s tone held fake surprise, “You mean to tell me that you, Eloise, want to have an actual conversation with me?”

“Shocking stuff I know, now c’mon,” She responded with the same joking attitude, nudging the back of his arm as they continued to walk through the park. It was a sight that never failed to relax her, the greenery and gentle atmosphere being enough to temporarily transport her to a state of believing she had no worries, like she had nothing to be afraid of.

The past week with Calum had been nothing like she had experienced before. It felt good to know she had a safe space other than her own apartment although she had begun to feel unsafe in her own home, fearing that an unwelcome individual would burst through her door at any given moment after discovering her little secret. But in Calum’s home, she felt like she could live, breathe, and embrace every moment that she felt her heartbeat in her chest.

Seven days felt like seven months when they would lay together in his bed, fingers interlaced as she would trace his tattoos that were painted on his brown skin. She’d ask a million questions about them, wanting to know every story behind each individual piece of art that littered his body. She had learnt the story of how the initials on each hand were for his parents, the name on his left forearm was his sister, how the thistle on his bicep was a homage to his Scottish heritage, and how the Roman numerals on his collarbone represented a year that his life changed. There were so many stories he had shared that she felt as though she wouldn’t remember them, but she found herself being able to recall every single one each time her eyes caught sight of the ink.

Late night conversations were full of questions about their pasts, asking about their childhoods and about stupid things they could recall from simpler times. Calum was a lot more open about his own memories than Eloise was, many of her own recollections being forgotten with purpose. She didn’t know if she was ready to dig them all back up just yet, and Calum respected that.

Early morning rises would be filled with the smell of coffee and fruity essences from the yoghurt Calum had added to his shopping list after learning of Eloise’s love for the strawberry flavour. He learnt of her tendencies of waking up in the unsociable hours of the morning, her body clock naturally seeming to have shifted since she started staying at his place on a more regular occasion. Before, she was lucky if she could sleep past 10am, now it was 7am. Calum often woke up and found her in the kitchen, legs crossed as she sat up on the countertop by the window, staring out into the city as the sun rose up, a bowl of yoghurt and chopped fruit in her lap as she enjoyed the peaceful silence of the morning. He never disturbed her when she was in that state, his body just standing in opening of the hallway, dark eyes on her that were filled with nothing but admiration.

He had come to learn that she was very appreciative of the small moments that she got to experience, figuring that a lot of that was due to the great deal of loss she had suffered over the years; wanting to absorb everything she felt as though she took for granted, like the sunrise; a beautiful sight that only a lucky few got a chance to see in all its glory.

An open patch of grass caught Eloise’s attention, her fingers gripping onto the fabric of the sleeve of his empathy hoodie, subtly dragging him along so she could claim the empty space before any other civilian who was found at the park.

“El, babe, slow down,” The nickname fell from Calum’s lips like butter, as if it were always supposed to. He had dropped pet names like those a few times throughout their time together, and she wondered if he truly noticed how often he let them slip. They were natural to him, feeling as though there was no other name that he knew for her other than what he felt suited her so perfectly. Eloise could swear her stomach flipped every time a simple nickname fell from his soft lips, assuring her that she wanted nothing else than to hear them a thousand times over.

“You’re the one who dragged me outside, so we’ll do things at my pace, that’s the deal,” She smirked to herself as she adjusted her jeans slightly before sitting down at the dry grass.

“Since when did I agree to that?” He raised a questioning brow, the slight upturn of his lip’s inkling on a borderline smirk. That smirk would get him in trouble one day, Eloise could sense it.

The sun beat down on the city of New York, speckles of gold seeping through the gaps in the tree branches as it painted the park with strips of yellow. It created a sight that Eloise could only wish she could see every day; the sight of Calum sat there with the sun beating down, the bright rays only bringing out how golden he truly was, as if gold met gold in the moment the sun connected with him.

Brown eyes cascaded over the park around them, Eloise’s gaze settling on a young girl who sat a few metres from them. She watched as the young blonde’s hand worked against the sketchpad in her lap, eyes flickering up to glance at the grand building that towered over the park. Eloise felt her back straighten almost inquisitively, her head tilting slightly to side as if to try and get a better view of the pad.

“What’s she drawing?” Calum asked, leaning back against his hands to keep himself up, eyes watching Eloise’s curiosity get the better of her. He had noted that she was a curious person, always watching what people were doing, always noticing people who were so submerged in their own world, especially those of the artistic mind. She seemed to have an eye for it.

Eloise watched as the pencil in her hand glided along the paper, imagining she could hear the soft strokes of graphite against the white paper as if she were sitting right next to her. She had a lot of respect for art, it always blowing her mind how someone could create something so beautiful with their own hands. She let her brown eyes look back to Calum, noticing how his eyes were sat on her own, admiring the interest she had shown in the stranger’s talent, before she responded with a smile, “I think she’s drawing the top of The Plaza, because if you look just over there,” She pointed in the direction of where the girl had been looking, “You can see the top of the hotel over the trees.”

“You seem to notice a lot of artistic people in the city for someone who doesn’t hold an artistic bone in her body,” Calum chuckled, remembering how they had discussed previously Eloise’s admiration for art but never having the ability to create any herself. He pulled his arm close to his chest in attempt to avoid her hand as it tried to smack him, his nose scrunching just a little as the smile on his face grew. “Did you ever have any hobbies when you were a teenager? Or anything that stuck and grew into a passion?”

Eloise shook her head, wrapping an arm around her right knee as it bent so she could keep it close to her chest as she responded, “I was that kid who always tried to find a hobby but gave up within a few minutes because it wasn’t as straight forward as I wanted it to be, and I also had zero patience.” Her free hand reached up to pull down the sunglasses that were resting on her head, setting them against the bridge of her nose so they shielded her eyes from the sun as the bright glare shifted direction in the sky.

“Ah, so you were one of those kids,” Calum spoke as if it all suddenly made sense, resulting in another playful smack against his arm from Eloise. She had definitely met her match when it came to teasing people, “And yet there’s still so much for me to learn,”

“About?” Eloise quirked a brow, reaching around her back to pull down the back of her shirt, the cool breeze against her spine signalling that the shirt had begun to ride up.

“You,” Calum sat upright, reaching down between his legs as he plucked a few blades of grass from the ground, eyes watching his hands before he reconnected them with Eloise’s own dark ones, “I’ve got an idea; quick-fire quiz with random questions about you, you have one pass and you’ve got to answer everything, got it?”

“Why do I feel like I’m going to regret agreeing to this stupid game?” A playful roll of her eyes were given as she shifted her body weight, turning to her left so she could face him head on, “Right, go ahead then if you must.”

Calum parted his lips slightly as he looked up in thought. He hadn’t even considered making up any questions to ask, not quite expecting her to give in that easily. Who was he kidding? She gave into almost anything he asked, he knew that, so he should have been more prepared. The hamster wheel in his brain seemed to run for a few seconds before a thought came into his head. Thank god for that.

“First question, your favourite subject in school?” He raised an eyebrow, throwing a finger in her direction as he pointed at her, awaiting her answer.

Eloise pursed her lips as she thought for a moment. Come on El, this whole point of quick-fire questions is that it’s supposed to be quick. She tapped her fingers against her thigh for a few seconds before giving an unsure answer of, “I’d probably say English even though I was awful at it, Maths was more of my strong suit but I wouldn’t say I loved it,” She threw a shrug of her shoulders at Calum, “Next question.”

“Favourite colour?”

“Easy, it’s probably red.”

“I have never seen you wear the colour red,” Calum commented, his teeth brushing against his bottom lip as he highlighted the third word, “You barely wear anything other than black or grey, babe. So, for that reason I am calling bullshit.”

“And how would you know? What if I’m wearing red underwear?” Eloise couldn’t stop teasing smirk, a coy pout playing on her lips as she saw his eyebrows raise at her remark. She knew that he was fully aware of what colour her underwear was, as he was the one who had enjoyed the task of removing it from her hands before she had the chance to get dressed this morning, before pulling her into the bathroom for a morning of strenuous activities.

She swore she could see the events of their morning playing in his mind, watching as his jaw worked while her comment echoed in his ears. She loved watching how flustered he got in moments like that; moments where a certain tone, or a sudden string of words had him silenced.

“Favourite artist?” His voice sounded raspy; he hadn’t cleared his throat before he spoke. Eloise’s tongue poked the inside of her cheek, noting how he tried to brush over what she had said, fighting the urge to poke fun at the avoidance, knowing full well that what she had said had taken its effect on him.

“Oh that’s a tough choice,” She pursed her lips, a little smug due to knowing what he focusing on right then, she swore she could hear the little voice in his head as it shouted at him to think of something else, “It’s got to be either Mayday Parade or The Maine.”

“Good choice,” He nodded, coughing into his fist as a way of attempting to rid the scratch in his throat. Calum could barely hold himself together and Eloise knew what hold she had over him.

Both knees were pulled to Eloise’s chest, her arms resting on top before she placed her chin down to settle against her forearms, brown eyes looking up at the handsome man she found herself with. She always thought about what they were, if they had a specific title for what they had going on. Did she even want to put a label on what they had? Was there a point in labelling it? It was still something she was trying to figure out; how quickly she felt so normal with Calum, how suddenly everything just seemed like it fit into place as if it had always been that way.

Calum and Eloise had talked briefly about what they were. Calum never rushed her into deciding what she wanted, assuring that he would go with what she felt comfortable with and what she felt ready for. Calum knew he wanted no one else, only having eyes for the girl who had his heart in her hands. He felt vulnerable around her, as if she could shatter his heart within seconds. And unfortunately, there was truth in that concern, as was there with Eloise’s matching one in regard to him. They both held such a strong connection that could be turned and used against them in the press of a button.

The only thing Eloise was sure of was that Calum was everything she had been looking for without even knowing it. He was all she could have wanted in someone; gentle, caring, understanding, forgiving, and so much more that she couldn’t put into words. She had admitted that to him a few mornings ago when they were lying in his bed together, limbs tangled within the sheets, her fingers combing through his hair as they stared at one another. Calum voiced his understanding over her concern for how she felt, suggesting they just say that they’re exclusive with one another, keeping it private, but known to each other that there was no one else in the picture, only the two of them who had eyes for the other.

The little pet names seemed to fall into habit rather quickly after that conversation, the next morning being the first time Calum dropped one in the moment, yawning before he leaned over and pressed a kiss to her cheek before climbing out of the entangled sheets to make his way into the bathroom to get himself ready for work. Eloise had let it slide at first, assuming it was just a slip of the tongue, but then they grew to be more regular, and she couldn’t deny that they didn’t not get her heart going.

“C’mon, let’s go,” Calum spoke up after a few minutes, “My ass is getting numb sitting here.” Eloise looked up to find him standing already, hand reached out for her to grab onto.

“We’ve been sitting for barely twenty minutes and you’re already complaining,” She scoffed, a gently chuckle being sounded as she reached up and grabbed onto his hand. She couldn’t hold back the soft grunt she let out as she let him pull her to her feet, focusing on the warmth of his hand that held onto hers. She noted how he didn’t let go, adjusting his fingers so they slipped in between her own, his hand practically enveloping hers in warmth as they moved back onto the path that led through Central Park.

Calum’s hand was so much larger than hers, she couldn’t help but notice the difference every time he held her hand, the size almost laughable. Eloise cursed at herself at the way butterflies erupted in her stomach at his touch, the smooth skin of his palm against hers being enough to make her feel like she was walking on sunshine. It was almost sickening how much she had grown to love the feeling of his skin on hers in more ways than one.

“What time’s your shift tomorrow?” Eloise spoke softly as they walked, eyes glancing down at their hands swinging gently between their bodies meanwhile their feet walked at different times, her long legs surprisingly unable to keep up with his timely long strides. For a taller girl, she could never walk quickly, not with Calum anyway.

“I start at eight tomorrow,” He responded, eyes catching the small family picnic that was going on just to their right, the corners of his mouth turning up at the thought of that possibility in his future. He had always been a family man, it only setting him up to be ready to eventually have one of his own with someone he loved, someone he could settle down and have a life with. “So, I was thinking, I’d give you a lift home tomorrow morning before I go to work if you need to grab some clean clothes and stuff, and then I could pick you up once I’m finished, take you back to my place and we could do something,”

Eloise’s eyes followed in the direction of where he had turned his head briefly, eyes falling on the young couple who sat with a child, he looked to be around four, as they laughed and smiled together. The open picnic basket was self-explanatory to Eloise, causing a cold shiver to run up her spine at the inkling of a memory she didn’t even know existed. She pulled her attention back up to Calum, hoping he didn’t notice her subtle shudder. “I was thinking I might stay at my place tonight for a change, my neighbours are gonna start being suspicious if they don’t hear me stumbling up my stairs at the crack of dawn soon,” She chuckled, squeezing his hand reassuringly, “It also means Duke can actually get some space in the bed for first time in a while, but I’ll come and see you tomorrow after your shift,”

“Duke’s gonna be upset that you’re leaving him in the house alone,” Calum pointed out, “I think he’s gotten quite fond of you sticking around during the day while I’m workin’, means he’s not on his own all day.” Eloise knew what he was doing; trying to subtly use Duke as a way of persuading – guilt tripping – her into staying at his place for another night. But Eloise knew she had to play this right, she had to go home at some point, she would have to submit herself to the clutches of the Gypsy Kings once again soon enough.

“And you can tell him that I’m very sorry but I have to,” She pouted her lips, leaning into Calum a little as they walked, “Or to make it up to him, I’ll make sure I bring a treat with me when I come back.”

“So, you’re going to bribe my dog?” He furrowed his brows down at her, glaring playfully at the brunette. Eloise puffed her cheeks briefly, eyes shifting out of Calum’s gaze as she focused on the floor for a second.

“Well, it’s the only way I can make sure that he’ll forgive me when I come back,”

“And what about me?” Calum tugged on her hand and pulled her to a stop, moving them out of the way on the path so they weren’t in anyone’s way. His eyebrows raised questioningly, a knowing smirk on his face as his spare hand found her waist, slipping beneath her jacket so he could feel the fabric of her oversized t-shirt beneath his fingers, voice barely above a gravelled whisper when he spoke, “How’re you gonna make sure that I forgive you for leaving me?”

“I’m sure a grown man like yourself can work out a few ways I can ask for your forgiveness,” She winked, giggling softly at the expression that sank onto Calum’s face, his head falling onto her shoulder as he let out a barely audible groan, although it was loud and clear in Eloise’s ears.

“I swear for the love of god,” Calum groaned out, grip tightening around Eloise’s waist as the hand that held hers awkwardly bent as he attempted to raise it. Eloise’s giggle echoed in his ears, the sound highlighting her awareness of how her words had affected him in public yet again. He was weak when it came to that girl, and it was as if she knew exactly how to play to his weakness, using it against him in a poorly timed place. “You’re cruel, and the fact that you’re not even coming back to my place tonight only proves my point,”

“I’m sure you’ll find a way to amuse yourself without me,” She whispered, leaning her head so it rested against his on her shoulder, a soft smile creasing her lips as she stood like that for a minute. She wished she could pause time right there and take a picture from someone else’s point of view, to see them together. She tilted her head slightly, pressing a feather like kiss to the side of his head before she softly spoke, “Now c’mon, I’ll buy you a- Scott?”

Calum’s head shot up at her words, forehead creased as his brows furrowed, “You’ll buy me a Scott?”

Eloise didn’t even register his response, eyes looking over in the distance to where a scattering of people walked through the park. Her dark eyes spotted the familiar man in the distance, able to pick out his soft curls from anywhere as well as his particular walk.

“Wait here,” She told Calum, softly releasing his hand from hers and before she could even hear him respond she was running down the path towards the familiar body who had his back to her.

Calum stood there in place, watching as Eloise’s figure shrunk as she ran further into the distance, arms crossing against his chest as he moved along the path a little bit and found a tree to lean against. He pulled out his phone, trying to occupy himself as he waited for Eloise to come back, eyes shifting every few seconds between the screen in his hand to the pretty brunette as she attempted to catch up to her friend. He couldn’t help but feel protective, wanting to make sure she was alright at all times.

Eloise felt her chest get heavy as she ran down the path, a few eyes watching her as she ran past numerous runners; their eyes obviously judging her choice of attire for what they most likely assumed to be an afternoon run. Her eyes closed in on the familiar golden locks of her best friend, his leather jacket shining against the sun.

She reached her hand out as she caught up with him, panting lightly as she called out, “Oi Erikson, do I not even get a hello anymore?” Scott’s expression seemed almost dumbfounded when he turned around, his face relaxing when he registered her voice and saw the one and only Eloise stood behind him, hands resting on the caps of her knees as she caught her breath, bending slightly as she felt her heart hammer faintly against her chest before she could bring herself to stand upright, breath returning to normal after a few seconds passed.

“You’re seriously out of shape,” Scott scoffed, laughing at his best friend’s poor attempt at hiding her heavy breaths as she stood up. Eloise reached out and shoved his shoulder lightly, sending him a warning glare as she straightened up, shoving her hands into her jacket pockets, and stood comfortably.

“Shut up, I’m in better shape than most of that lot,” She laughed, jutting her chin out in the direction of the park, directing her comment towards the others within the gang. Both of them knew which members she was silently talking about, a joint laugh escaping them both at the inside knowledge. “What’re you doing here anyway, last time I checked Central Park is a bit far out of Brooklyn, especially for the likes of you, Scott?”

Scott chuckled at her comment, almost nervously, as he raised his shoulders in a half-shrug, “Suppose I could say the same for you, you’re a bit far out of Brooklyn yourself,” Eloise couldn’t help but notice how his eyes were shifting, as if he were searching for someone or keeping an eye out. He seemed antsy, not an unusual occurrence when it came to Scott being this far out Brooklyn. “How’ve you been anyway? How’re things comin’ along with your cop friend?”

Eloise let out a quiet sigh, shifting her weight to her other foot as she answered, “I should be asking you how you are, you’ve hardly answered your phone and you seem to be ignoring my texts. Am I too lame to talk to now?” She scoffs jokingly at him, chewing the inside of her cheek as she continues, “I’m working on him, I’ve got some information that’ll be useful for Jay to know. I’ve also set up a few decoy details for him to take back to his precinct, so give me a few more days and we’ll be ready to go,”

Scott nods, taking in the words that Eloise had practically spoon fed him. She prayed he couldn’t see through it, praying that for a man she believed to know her so well, that he couldn’t see right through the lies she had just fed to him. She knew he would take her words back to Jay, informing him of the ‘work’ she had done. Scott’s eyes travelled behind Eloise, she had noticed he had done that a few times already, wondering what he was looking at.

“Take it, that’s him?” He jutted out his chin in the direction of the park behind her, eyes finding the dark ones of Calum who kept his gaze firmly planted on Eloise’s back, “Either that’s your copper or some big creepy dude has been staring at your ass for the past five minutes, and my money is the former.”

Eloise rolled her eyes, shaking her head as she glanced behind her, brown eyes finding Calum’s. She smiled softly at him, offering him a small wave as a silent act of reassurance that she was alright. She noted how his shoulders seemed to relax a little at her action, the muscles sinking as his eyes never left her, “Yeah, that’s Calum.”

“So, you gonna let me meet the guy who you’ve been spending all of your time with or are you going to keep me in suspense?” Scott raised an eyebrow, lips parting briefly as he glanced in Calum’s direction. Eloise thanked the sun for her helping her hide her flushed cheeks, making her cheeks and nose almost rosy at the thought of Calum and Scott meeting, the thought making her feel like someone had just dropped a lead weight in her stomach. Eloise couldn’t help but feel as though she was in a catch 22; stuck between her best friend who believed she was acting one way, and Calum who knew her to be acting in the opposite.

But that didn’t stop her from nodding, feeling Scott’s arm slip around her shoulders as they began to make their way to where Calum stood. “Be nice,” Eloise warned through gritted teeth as they closed in on the tree that Calum stood under. The air felt as though it thickened with the closer that they got, Eloise’s chest tightening as she tried to fight the feeling of anxiety that she could feel bubbling up inside of her.

Calum straightened up, sliding his phone back into the pocket of his jeans and walked over and met them halfway, a friendly smile on his face as he met Eloise’s uneasy eyes, noting how uncomfortable she must have been at the thought of Calum meeting her brother by association.

Eloise forced the discomfort in her stomach down, trying to ignore it as she stood with Scott by her side, arm still around her shoulders as he looked towards Calum, a rather unimpressed look on his face. She let out a small cough, clearing her throat, as she introduced them, “Scott, this is Calum, Calum, this is my best friend Scott,” She felt as though she wanted the world to swallow her whole as she felt Scott’s grip tighten ever so slightly around her, a natural tension he had around those he didn’t know and didn’t trust.

“It’s nice to meet you, mate,” Calum sent him a gentle singular nod of his head, a warm smile on his face as he reached out his hand for Scott to shake, “El’s told me a lot about you, you sound like a very important man.”

Eloise sent him a glance, silently thanking him for trying to play it cool, for being nice towards Scott even though the reaction he was receiving from the blond was anything but. Her eyes fell to Scott, sending a subtle kick to the back of his ankle as if to silently say, ‘Just shake his hand.’

Scott sighed as he reached out his hand, grasping Calum’s in his grip as they shook, a dry laugh coming from his throat as he tried not to roll his eyes. “That’s quite a strong grip you’ve got there,” Eloise couldn’t help it as she rolled her eyes at Scott’s remark, silently praying he would drop the act and just be like the Scott she knew, that he would act like her best friend.

“Comes with the territory.” The response was quick to come from Calum, it being instant much like the forced smile on his lips. Eloise knew he would be silently making his job known to Scott, even though he wasn’t trying to rupture Scott, she couldn’t help but want to move things along, trying to cut the interaction as short as possible to spare any unnecessary tension.

It’s not like there wasn’t plenty of it already.

“I was gonna suggest to Calum that we go and grab a hot dog if you wanted to join us?” Eloise offered, head nodding towards the exit of the park, the memory of the brightly coloured food cart outside the gates making her mouth water at the thought. “It’ll be my treat.”

Scott shook his head practically as soon as Eloise let the words slip from her mouth, hand coming up and shaking alongside his head, “I can’t stay long, I’ve got somewhere to be. I just wanted to come by and say hi,”

The awkward silence is almost painful. Cursing herself, Eloise wished she never agreed to letting Scott come over. She wished she had just said something along of the lines of how she’d rather keep them separate to save questions but of course she didn’t think this through. Nice one, Eloise.

She was about to open her mouth to speak, her brain scrambling as it attempted to create a sentence for her to use in order to break the silence before Calum beat her to it.

“So, how long have you known Eloise?” Calum asked, adjusting his stance as an attempt to be perceived as more friendly, trying to cut the clear tension that clouded them, hand resting over the outline of his phone in his pocket.

Eloise didn’t need to see the shift in Scott’s eyes as they fell to her, she could feel the burn in the side of her head along with the way his arm moved, it dropping from around her and returning back to his side, hand sliding back into its home inside his pocket. Eloise wanted to curse herself, knowing she should’ve warned Calum about one thing, but of course she didn’t think. She could only hope this helped her out, that Scott took it as a sign that things were working, that she was invested in the way she needed them to believe, that she was capturing Calum’s attention like they had intended. She just hoped that it wasn’t seen for what it really was.

She needed to slow down; she knew that she was getting too far ahead of herself. Scott was smart, but he wasn’t that smart.

“Too long,” Her voice muttered, a gentle smirk playing her lips as she glanced at Scott, playfully nudging him with her hip to try and go along with the friendly interaction.

“Uh yeah, we’ve been best mates since we were kids. The both of us went through some rough stuff growing up and we’ve stuck together ever since,” Scott nodded, throwing a casual shrug of shoulders into the mix with his response, “I just can’t seem to shake her off.”

“Fuck off,” Eloise laughed, raising a knowing brow, “You’d be lost with me or dead even. I have saved your life more times than you can count.”

It was true. There was more truth in that statement than what Scott wanted to admit. Eloise had helped him out a lot throughout their time together; throughout school, starting off in the gang, and just about every other occasion where things didn’t go to plan for the blond boy.

Eloise had been the one to help him talk his way out of situations he found himself in when he thought he was clever. She had also been the one to cover for him when he would get himself into messes and need a friend to pull him out. Eloise had always been there for him over the years and he couldn’t deny that.

Scott shot her a warning glance before letting a small laugh laced with nostalgia leave him, unable to hide the truth in the statement, “I was a bit of a klutz back in the day, and this one here helped me out a lot. I guess you could say I never quite understood what public embarrassment truly meant,”

“A klutz with a big mouth and shocking taste in women,” Eloise couldn’t stop the mutter before it was too late, eyes watching as Scott scoffed at her and he amusingly jabbed her with his elbow.

“On that note, I’m gonna take my leave,” Scott excused himself, taking a step back as he attempted to extract himself from the gathering rather quickly, “It was nice to meet you, Calum. Suppose I might see you ‘round if she keeps you for longer than usual,” A dry laugh escaped him as he made the remark, eyes catching Eloise’s glaring ones.

Eloise shook her head, the nod barely noticeable as she clenched her jaw and grit her teeth, a warning glare being shot at Scott, “I was gonna ask if you wanted to come by my place tonight and we could hang out, but just for that you can fuck off,” She sighed, raising her hand as she threw a middle finger in his direction.

Scott hummed, knowing she would still want him to come by her apartment. She never didn’t want him to come over when she had offered. “I’ve got plans tonight, some business I need to take care of for work. How about tomorrow night instead? I’ll call you when I’m on my way,”

Eloise sent Scott a nod, “Sure, see you tomorrow then,”

Eventually they bid Scott a goodbye, watching as his silhouette disappeared into the distance, vanishing out of the park as it merged into the crowds that were usually thought of when it came to New York. Eloise released a relieved sigh, the departure of her best friend making her feel as though she could breathe again, feeling the tension deplete with the great distance between them that grew as he was out of sight.

She turned in place, catching Calum’s eyes watching as she seemed to relax. God, she felt horrible for making him suffer through that. Scott wasn’t usually so… not Scott. She swore he was a nice guy but this just highlighted the arrogance that she tried to ignore every day, almost if she forced herself to be blinded to it, not wanting to believe he had it in him to act like that.

“I’m really sorry about him, he’s not usually like that,” Eloise apologised, figuring she owed Calum some form of an explanation as to why she shot off earlier without a second thought, “Scott’s been giving me the silent treatment for the past few days and I didn’t know why; he was avoiding my calls and ignoring my texts and it was bugging me because we used to never go a single day without talking to one another,” She was rambling now, “So when I saw him, I guessed it was a perfect opportunity to ask him about it and then he spotted you staring, asked if he could come and say hi, then he- “

“Eloise, it’s alright,” Calum cut her off with a laugh, stopping her in the middle of a ramble that not even she knew how long it would continue for, his hands placing themselves on her shoulders, squeezing them reassuringly, “He’s your friend, you’re allowed to go and speak to him,”

“Something’s not right with him though,” She sighed, feeling rather defeated, “He’s not himself and I can’t tell what it is. It’s almost like he’s changing, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

“You can’t do anything,” Calum told her, slipping a comforting arm around her shoulder as they turned and began to make their way through the park, heading towards the exit, walking the opposite direction to where Scott had departed, “It’s probably whatever Jay’s planning just getting to his head. It’s a big scheme and a lot is on the line for them,”

“Thanks for reminding me,” She rolled her eyes, sighing heavily as they walked.

The colours of the food cart soon came into sight, Eloise’s stomach practically growling at the thought of some food. The two of them made their way over to the queue, standing in line and began to wait.

“Scott’ll be meeting with some the guys tonight,” She spoke out, “That’s what he meant by ‘work’, so he’ll be filling them in on our little run-in today,”

“And that’s a good thing, right?” Calum sent a questioning look.

“I think so, it’ll make them think that their plan is working,” She nodded, silently trying to convince herself of her uncertain response, “The fact that you called me Eloise will go a long way in convincing them, it’ll make them see that I’ve ‘wormed’ my way in,” She raised her fingers to use as quotation marks at the word wormed.

The confusion is Calum’s face couldn’t be missed, the crease in his forehead and furrow of his brows only solidifying the questioning look he continued to give her, “How is me calling you by your name helping?”

Eloise sighed, knowing she would need to explain. She cleared her throat as she looked ahead of the line, making a note of the few people in front of them that were still waiting to be served.

“Back when I lost my dad, it was quite hard to hear my name. People had been calling me ‘El’ for a while since I was a kid, but my parents almost always called me Eloise, and when I didn’t have them around anymore, my name just reminded me of them and how much I was hurting,” She explained, sighing as she threw a hand in her pocket, feeling Calum’s arm drop from her shoulder as it found her free one, his fingers lightly grasping hers as an attempt to comfort her, “So I started telling people to just call me ‘El’ so it felt like I wasn’t me, so I could pretend like it didn’t happen,”

Calum just nodded, brushing her knuckles with his thumb as he listened. Every time she mentioned her parents, he couldn’t stop his heart from hurting, almost as if he was feeling her own pain when she spoke of them.

“But certain people still call me by my full name, but it became sort of public knowledge with those I associated myself with that only certain people got to call me Eloise; like Scott, Han, my friends: Paige, Roman, and the rest of that group. And now you,” She smiled up at him, squeezing his hand as they took a step forward in the queue, “So, since Scott heard you use my full name, it’s gonna intentionally take this whole thing a lot further, almost securing their perception of what it is that they think I’m doing,”

The mention of Paige and Roman reminded Eloise that she still needed to introduce Calum to them, thinking of the endless stream of text messages she had received from Paige with requests of organising a double date ever since she found out about Eloise and Calum’s mutual agreement of being ‘secretly exclusive’.

She had tried to fight with the idea of Calum meeting her friends, trying to convince herself that it was a bad idea as it just made what they had feel even more real; like it was going last and they were going to be going places after the deal was done. Eloise wasn’t sure if she could bring herself to ignore the harsh reality and let herself fall into the self-made trap of pretending that she lived in a world where she and Calum would walk away from this with no repercussions, where they would be able to live as a normal couple.

Calum was about to speak, a voice laced with a thick accent stopping him as it called out, “Next! ‘iya sweetheart, what can I get ya?”

Eloise’s eyes turned to meet the rather large man in front of them, face a little red and shining an almighty mole in the right side of his chin. He smelled like hot dogs; Eloise noted. Although she wasn’t sure if it were him or the fact that they were at a hot dog stand, but she could be sure that the smell was rather overpowering.

They gave him their orders, standing next to one another as they waited for him to prepare the carb loaded items. Calum’s hand never dropped hers, his fingers finding the spaces between hers before slipping into them, her hand fitting in his like a glove. He felt the need to always be touching her, feeling an uneasy sensation settle in his gut if he was around her and didn’t have his skin touching hers in some way. It wasn’t like Eloise minded; she embraced any physical connection she could get with Calum when she could, silently reminding herself that it most likely wasn’t going to last forever.

Hotdogs in hand, they made their way down the streets of New York, the steam from the slabs of meat in their breaded buns travelling up into the air as they walked together.

“So, you don’t mind that I call you Eloise?” Calum’s question could only just be heard over the sound of a yellow taxi honking it’s horn next to where they waited to cross the street, “I can call you El if that- “

Eloise slapped his shoulder gently, holding her finger up as she silently asked him to wait while she chewed the bite of her hotdog she had just taken. Once swallowed, she smiled at him, wiping the slaver of grease she swore she felt just below her lip with edge of her palm, before she said, “I actually prefer it when you call me Eloise, it sounds better coming from you unlike some people.”

“Good,” Calum speaks through a mouthful of hotdog, hand coming up to cover the sight of half-chewed food, “I like saying your name; it’s pretty, much like the girl it belongs to.”

Eloise couldn’t stop herself from faking a gag, laughing at Calum as she rolled her eyes, amused, “Do you have an off switch, or do you just permanently ruin moments with cheesy lines?”

Calum playfully nudged her as they turned a corner, careful not to knock her into anyone as he leaned over and pressed a quick chaste kiss to her cheek once he had freed his mouth of the remnants of his snack, “Only speaking the truth, doll,”

“Security!” Eloise jokingly calls out, “Can someone please come and remove Mr Smooth from my presence?” She’s unable to stop her laugh as Calum’s hand reaches out, attempting to nip at her sides, “Get off!” She squealed, trying to push his hand away, quickly apologising to the bystander who she accidently bumped into in her attempt to move out Calum’s reach.

Let’s just say that Calum got a friendly smack on the back of the head for that one.

They eventually discovered a bin to discard of their wrappers, tossing them away before they continued their walk back to where Calum had parked his car just a few blocks south of Central Park. The sun continued to shine down on New York, a gentle cooling breeze warranting through the city, adding a refreshing chill to contrast against the heat. They walked down the streets side by side, Calum’s arm draped over her shoulders, meanwhile Eloise’s wound its way around his waist, hips lightly brushing against one another, her small fingers gently gripping onto the fabric of his hoodie as an attempt to keep close to him, head resting on his shoulder as they walked through the city.

“You want me to drop you off at your place?” Calum asked, arm around her shoulders, fingers lightly brushing against the cool material of her jacket, “Or can I convince you to stay at my place for another night?”

Eloise shook her head, her stomach vibrating with her silent closed-mouthed laugh, “I need to go back to my place like I told you. I need time to think about what I’m gonna say to Scott tomorrow,”

“What do you mean?”

“I need to talk to him about some stuff; nothing about the plan or the shipment, nothing to do with the gang whatsoever,” She sighed as they stopped in front of Calum’s car, her arm dropping from around his waist as her back rested against the hood of the black vehicle, Calum’s arm being removed her shoulder as he moved to stand in front of her, he couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and taking her hand in his for what felt like the hundredth time that day, “I want to talk to him as friends, as the best friends that we’re supposed to be. I’m worried about him because he used to talk to me about everything and I did the same with him when my life fell apart, but now it feels like we’re more strangers than best friends,”

Calum sent her a reassuring smile, squeezing her hand gently as he reached into his pocket to find his car keys, sending her an assured, “I’m sure he’ll be okay, Eloise.”

“He’s going to hate me when this is over.” Eloise couldn’t stop the tears brimming in her eyes, her throat quivering at the thought of how this was going to affect Scott; the guilt of it seeming as though it would eat her alive.

Calum shook his head, more to himself than to her, raising his hands to her face, cupping her cheeks, his thumbs gently gliding across the apples of her sweet skin as he said, “Let him. Eloise, if he’s really your best friend then he’ll realise why you’ve done this and he’ll forgive you,”

“And what if he never does?” She asked painfully, her voice sounding almost as defeated as she felt.

“Then he clearly isn’t the kind of man you want to believe he is,” Calum spoke truthfully, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, holding his lips there for a few seconds before he took a small step back, opening the car for them to get in, “C’mon, we’ll get ice cream on our way back to your place, my treat,”

“Thank you, Calum,” She smiled, wiping away the packed tears before they had a chance to fall, taking in a deep shaky breath as she attempted to pull herself together, “For everything,”

“Anything for you, Eloise,” He whispered, afraid that if he spoke any louder she would float away with the light breeze, gently reaching down and reconnecting their hands, lifting hers to his lips as he placed a soft kiss to her knuckles, “Absolutely anything.”

*****

11 Days Left

Eloise felt as though she was suffocating, the air around her thick with tension as she watched Scott from the corner of her eye. He had arrived just less than an hour ago, walking in with a pizza in his hand, claiming to be splashing the cash as an early celebration for her hard work.

Every time she looked at Scott, she was reminded of the lies she was living, the lies she was trapping him with, and the guilt was eating her alive, but she couldn’t bring herself to tell him. As much as her natural instinct would be to warn him of an upcoming ambush, she knew this time it had gone too far, and she couldn’t save him like she so desperately wanted to.

“I had a dream last night,” Eloise spoke quietly, almost sounding as if she was talking to herself, head leaning back as her eyes met with the ceiling briefly, “We were kids again, we must have been six or seven, and we were sitting in a field, just the two of us,” The corners of her mouth upturned, her teeth gently nipping on the inside of her lip, her voice continuing, “I was freaking out, panicking about what we were doing and you kept telling me to calm down, assuring me that we would be alright, you said that you’d make sure they would take care of us,”

Scott’s eyes caught Eloise’s as she looked in his direction, her back resting against the armrest of the couch, “Who were ‘they’?” Scott queried; eyebrows furrowed in question.

“I’ve got no idea,” She said with a breathy chuckle, shaking her head lightly as she reached forward to close over the empty pizza box that lay spread out on the coffee table, the cold stench of tomato and cheese making Eloise feel slightly queasy, before she added, “A monster? Or maybe someone we knew?”

“There’s plenty of monsters around this city,” Scott’s voice almost went unheard, the comment barely audible over the low volume of the TV. But fortunately for Eloise, she heard it loud and clear.

Scott’s words held a lot of truth in them; more truth than most would like to admit, the truth that fell deaf at many people’s ears. They had always been told as kids that monsters weren’t real, that they were figments of their own imaginations, a simple phase they would grow out of. But Eloise never grew out of it, her eyes finding them everywhere she turned. And now, to her own terror, she waited for her best friend to take that final form.

“Can I ask you something?” Eloise rolled her lips into her mouth, taking Scott’s hum as a response, taking a small breath before she continued, hoping he wouldn’t mind her bringing up past events, “Have you spoken to Seth recently? It’s just that you’ve been quiet the past few days, and I know what yesterday was, and I also know he usually crawls out of his hole around this time of year, so I just wanted to- “

“He’s not reached out to me if that’s what you’re wondering,” Scott pursed his lips, shaking his head slowly as he stared straight ahead at the scene playing on the TV screen. It wasn’t until earlier that day that Eloise had pieced together why Scott had been so distant lately, cursing herself for nearly forgetting what had happened all those years ago.

How could she nearly forget? She had a reminder of what happened on that day nearly four years ago permanently etched on her leg; the scar on her thigh never having properly healed, the textured skin serving as a reminder to not only her, but to Scott about what happened that day. And it was all down to a stupid idea made by him and someone he thought to be his friend.

They were 17; young, juvenile, and eager.

They all wanted to be recognised as key members of the Gypsy Kings; fed up and tired of being treated like the kids they didn’t believe themselves to be. They wanted to establish to the older men of the gang that they were ready to take their places in their society.

Eloise, Scott, Ben, Seth, and Gabriel had all piled themselves in Seth’s car one night, driving into the southside of Brooklyn, heading for Wiley’s mattress factory after hearing rumours of illegal liquor being stored in the basement. Scott and Seth had been talking to snitches across the city, pretending to be working for the higher members of the gang to retrieve information on any activity they could attempt to ransack. And boy, when they heard about the Moonshine, it was like they had just woken up on Christmas Day.

They had planned to sneak into the factory, having worked out their entry route as well as their exact strategy: fill a few bags with some bottles of the Moonshine, sell it off to clients that Ben had sniffed out with Eloise’s help, and prove themselves to those who doubted them.

But they had one flaw in their plan; they didn’t take into consideration that there would be any security. Their inexperienced minds had assumed that the factory would be empty, as if they could walk straight in and straight out with bags full of the strong liquor without any struggle. As genius as they thought their plan was, it was only proven to be the complete opposite from the minute they got inside that factory.

Their venture into the factory had gone smoothly, remaining undetected as they snuck into the basement, discovering the underground distillery along with the crates packed with bottles and jars of the spirit. They thought had hit the jackpot, obnoxiously throwing high-fives around as they crammed as much Moonshine into their bags as they could fit and still be able to carry.

Seth was smugger than any of them, claiming that he knew they’d win big with his idea to break into the factory, although they all knew it was him and Scott combined who discovered the rumours of the illegal distillery. Seth was the reason why it all went wrong, getting too ahead of himself and getting too excited, his voice was too loud in the quiet building, and no matter how many times they all told him to be quiet, he didn’t listen.

They had managed to sneak back up into the main foyer of the factory, spotting the door they had entered through, the heavy panel still open ajar so the glint of orange from the streetlamp outside could be seen in the distance. Ben had sent everyone out in front of him, his natural polite nature being what got him killed.

No – them being there is what got Ben killed.

They were nearly out of the factory, Scott’s hands just centimetres from the door before a shout broke their attention, eyes darting across the room to see a tall, thin, wrinkly man pacing towards them, gun in hand with their young bodies as targets. Ben had pushed Eloise forward, telling them to run, but it was too late for him.

Scott thrust the door open and practically threw himself out of it, feet moving out of the doorway as Seth followed hot on his tail, but Eloise had remained frozen in place as she watched Ben’s body fall to the ground as the sound of a gunshot echoed within the factory. Her eyes burned into the hole that branded itself into his back, the dark crimson colour painting his back almost unnoticeable due to the lack of light in the room.

Eloise could still make out Wiley’s eyes in the darkness, she swore she could see red in his irises as nothing, but rage and pure animalistic tendencies coursed through them. Scott had shouted for Eloise to run but she couldn’t hear him, the murderous gunshot echoing in her ears as her eyes became scarred with the sight of the body of the young boy who she had grown fond of.

She hadn’t realised she was moving until Scott grabbed her hand, almost ripping her arm out of the socket as he hauled her out of the building, a second gunshot being heard before a piercing yell from Eloise as her hand reached down for her leg as she tried to run. The pain of the piercing bullet in her thigh was nothing like she had ever felt before, it momentarily distracting her from the death she had just witnessed.

Scott had ended up carrying her back to Seth’s car, her mind not even registering Gabriel who had taken Scott’s place in the front seat as Seth started the car and raced back to their hideout, breaking every red light and stop sign that he came across in the early hours of the morning.

“What about Ben?” Her voice was quiet, throat dry as she blinked rapidly, trying to keep her eyes open although the urge to sleep was becoming too strong.

Scott had removed his belt from his jeans, tying it around her leg as an attempt to the try and stop the bleeding, using his hoodie as a gauze to keep pressure on the world, panicked and with a shake of his head, he said, “It’s too late, El. He’s gone,”

The last thing she remembered before she passed out was the heartache in Scott’s voice; at his words in regard to Ben but also to Eloise as he tried to call out to her, telling her to keep her eyes open and stay awake for him.

She woke up a while later, unsure of how long she had been out for, the tapestry pinned the ceiling above her head capturing her attention when she first opened her eyes, silently telling her who’s home she was in. Of course, she had been brought there.

“She’s awake,” A voice called out; older, yet familiar.

Brown eyes looked to her right, to which she found Han stood by her side, his eyes looking towards the doorway of the bedroom she was laying in. Faint footsteps got louder before two familiar bodies were stood in the doorway; faces etched with guilt and grief as they prepared themselves for the verbal abuse they would receive because of their actions, as if they hadn’t suffered enough.

“I agreed I wouldn’t ask what happened until she was awake,” Han’s voice spoke, arms crossing against his chest as he stood firmly, shoulders tense as he frowned at the two boys, “So, now you better start talkin’,”

Eloise’s eyes met with Scott’s golden ones, a gentle smile spreading across her face at the sight of her best friend, unable to ignore the way her heart hurt at the emotional turmoil he appeared to be in. She remembered almost instantly what had happened, the memories of the factory unfolding in her mind like a movie scene; the sight of Ben’s body collapsing and the gunshot prominent in her vision. She noted of Gabriel seemed to share a similar expression, except he looked to be more uncomfortable rather than upset. It’s not like it was his idea to go and hit that factory, Seth had pressured him into it. Speaking of Seth, where was he?

Gabriel looked as if he was about to speak, about to tell Han what had happened before Scott cut in, “It was all my idea; I thought it would be really cool if we were to try and prove ourselves to you guys by cashing in. I wanted to prove that we weren’t just kids and that we were ready for the big stuff like you guys were at our age,” Scott looked to be embarrassed, almost irritated actually as he claimed the blame for why they were in their current position, “So, we snuck into Wiley’s, tried to steal a couple of bottles of the Moonshine I heard he had been cooking up in his basement. I figured we could sell it on and bring the profits to the hideout… But all I managed to do was get two of my friends shot,”

Han’s sigh was nothing but full of disappointment, his exhale was heavy as he rubbed a hand over his face and looked at Scott, who’s eyes were planted firmly on his feet, unable to keep eye contact with anyone within the room.

It wasn’t the first time Han had been woken up at four in the morning, being asked if he can help someone who was injured. He just never expected for the victim of his next bullet extraction to be the girl who he had promised her dad he would look out for if anything were to happen.

Han’s throat worked, slowly swallowing a frustrated lump as he shook his head, pointing to Scott with an accusing finger, “Just be thankful it was only one life you lost last night. The bullet was only in her leg, and thankfully for your own sake, it didn’t hit anything critical, so she’s gonna be fine as long as it doesn’t get infected,” Han practically cursed himself at the thought of this being any worse than what it was, unsure of what he would do if it had been a wound to her chest or worse, “It’s just gonna take her a few days to be up and walking again, it’s gonna be a bitch of a recovery to get through,”

“I’ll stay with her until she’s ready to move,” Scott stepped forward, nodding his head at Han.

“She’ll be staying here until then, I’ll be keeping an eye on her and making sure it stays clean,” Han packed away the bloody rags that were on the floor, tossing them into his slow burner that sat in the corner of his living room, his eyes watching the sight of the rags beginning to catch the flames as they burned vigorously.

“That’s fine, but like I said, I’m staying with her. It’s my fault this happened, so it’s my responsibility.”

“You never left my side the entire time I was stuck at Han’s place,” She scoffed with a smile at the memory, “It doesn’t surprise me that Han stopped calling in sick for us with the school,”

And it was true, Scott never once went home the entire time that Eloise’s leg was healing. He practically lived at Han’s with her during that time. He felt guilty for what had happened, and he nominated himself to take full responsibility for the factory incident since Seth ran off the minute that he dropped them outside Han’s front door, driving off down the road to never been seen again.

They still didn’t know where he had gone or if he was even alive. Seth had chosen to run away from the gang after Ben died, walking away from any sole responsibility for the death of a teenager and the injury that left Eloise physically scarred. Scott had taken the blame for what happened because at the time he still felt like Seth was his friend, and he didn’t realise that when Seth drove away that night it would be the last time they saw or spoke to each other.

Eventually the truth had come out about how the plan to raid Wiley’s was a joint effort, but it didn’t make things any easier for Scott to cope with.

They never got a chance to bury Ben’s body, nor did his own parents have a chance to say their goodbyes. They received the news of their son’s death via the Gypsy Kings, something that Scott will never be able to erase; never forgetting the sight of his mother breaking down as she heard the news that her son wouldn’t be coming home.

Scott had decided from that day on to pay homage to Ben, wanting to show that he was being remembered by those who cared about him. So, every year on the day of Ben’s death, Scott would travel to Manhattan, to Ben’s parents’ house where he would lay a single red rose on their doorstep and walk away, paying a silent tribute to the boy who had a secret love for flowers and everything nature related; a small secret that only those close to him knew.

It was the death of Ben that sparked Scott’s ignorance when it came to people’s feelings, why he never let himself get attached to anyone new. After he experienced the pain of when Ben left him, only being accompanied by the abandonment his parents left him with – though they thought they were protecting him – once his mother got caught up in her own scandals, Scott decided to distance himself from people, allowing himself to use them for his piece of fun and nothing more.

Throughout everything, Scott and Eloise only ever had each other for long enough. They both had no real family to take care of them; both having left them although in different circumstances. It was from day Eloise had started walking again, leg slowly healing, that they decided they were in it together for the long haul. They had sworn to be brother and sister to each other until they died, always being there for one another when needed.

The memories of how they were before hurt Eloise to think about; looking back and seeing how quickly he was willing to sell himself out to protect someone who he thought was a friend, and how determined he was to sleep by her side while her leg healed, never hesitating or complaining when she woke up in the middle of the night and needed help getting to the bathroom or if she needed something as small as a drink of water.

But when she looked at Scott as she sat opposite him, his floppy curls pointed in all directions, face solemn as he stared out of the window, dark bags beneath his eyes, she couldn’t help but feel as though that something had changed. As much as she did genuinely enjoy his company; she could see their connection had a crack in it. Typical nights in where they would be clutching their stomachs in laughter or racing through the apartment as they play-fought like they were kids again were nothing but a distant memory being replaced with the latest reality of less smiles between them and added tension as Scott’s focus seemed to be elsewhere, as if he had better things to do other than spend time with the girl who had he practically grown up with.

The promise they made to each other is one she’d never be able to forget, no matter how hard she tried. It was a stupid pinkie promise they made on that day that had unintentionally become the glue between them and sadly she felt as though it was drying out and they were breaking off. It pained her to know what was silently happening between them, knowing it would only become clearer when she broke that promise, betraying one of the most important men in her life – or at least that’s what he used to be. It was painful, immensely, but she knew she had to follow through with it. It was for the sake of the city they called home, as well as his own good, and like Calum said, if he were truly her best friend then he would come to forgive her, surely not?

It was a risk she had to take. She had to break everything she had grown to know, unable to stand aside and watch as those around her destroyed themselves as well as innocent people.

“Brother and sister until we die. Bullets, friends, and relationships will never separate us. We’ll always have each other, we’ll always fight for each other, we’ll always love each other no matter what.”

---

Tag List: @steviemae @elsysoza @treatallwithkindness @oopsiedoopsie23

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somefinelipstickonthatpig · 4 years ago

Text

Of Dreams and Memory Zestiria // AtlA AU // Oneshot #9

[Read on AO3]

As the gang begins to infiltrate the Fire Nation in order to save Muse, surprising revelations come to light.

tw // mentions of physical abuse

- o - o - o -

A frantic gasp shatters the silence of the fire prince’s bedchamber. Prince Sergei’s arms shake behind him, sweat beading along his brow. His chest rises and falls with every breath, entirely too warm even without a shirt to cover it; his blanket pools around his hips, also entirely too much. Instinct makes him kick his feet over the side of his bed, shoving his covers aside. His eyes dart through the shadows, but in the night, everything is still and calm. Tranquil. His balcony doors are still shut and bolted. The long curtains don’t rustle.

With a withering sigh, he hides his face in his hands.

“Just a dream,” he lies to himself. “Nothing more. No need to lose yourself over this, Sergei.”

The past is meant to remain in the past.

…and yet.

He can still recall with perfect clarity the twist of his stomach at a singular raised hand twelve years ago. Admittedly, the imprint the image had left on him has always struck him as strange. Why does such a thing affect him when he himself had fallen under the shadow of that hand so many times?

Maybe it was his tears, he thinks. Or perhaps it took finally seeing it happen to someone else to awake in me—something like empathy.

Ironic, Sergei thinks, as he uncurls and tilts back his head to his ceiling.

The canopy above his bed is the same as it has always been for so many years.

“I haven’t had that dream in a decade,” Sergei murmurs. Which leaves one more important question, as tangible as the sweat he can feel beading down his temple. It draws a thin line down from his brow to his neck.

Why now?

- o - o - o -

“Do I have to?”

Dezel’s stance doesn’t change in the slightest. His extended hand remains pressed against Sorey’s chest, frown firm on his face.

Finally, with a heavy sigh, Sorey caves. He reaches up to his ears. “But I like them.”

“And right now, those feather earrings are one of your biggest identifying factors,” Mikleo huffs. His arms cross over his chest and watches as the earrings pass from Sorey’s hands to Dezel’s. The tension in his shoulders doesn’t fall until Dezel finally pockets the earrings in Gramps’ travel bag. “If we actually want to sneak through the Fire Nation, then we need to make sure there’s no possible way anyone will recognize you. Now, for your hair.”

“First Atakk, then my earrings—now I have to take off my hair, too?!”

Mikleo rolls his eyes and play-punches Sorey’s arm. He fights the smile that wants to crawl on his face at the teasing and all-too-telling grin on Sorey’s face. “No. Idiot. We’re just wrapping your head. Word is spreading about your crazy hair. This scarf should do the trick.”

Sorey grins. “Should I be flattered? Ah, what the heck.” With one final sigh, he bows, head shoved towards Mikleo’s chest. “Might as well get it over with. Want to do me the honors?”

“I suppose.”

- o - o - o -

When Lailah hears dusty footsteps behind her, she turns and gasps widely, happily. “Why, Sorey! You’re hardly recognizable!”

“Well, I think you’re being nice, but thanks anyway!” Sorey grins cheekily. For good measure, he gives a spin. The small tail of his yellow scarf, peeking out from where it’s tucked in at the nape of his neck, bounces with the rock of his weight. “How do I look?”

“Like a true citizen of the Fire Nation!” she hums and claps her hands together.

Sorey laughs and scratches the back of his neck. “Oh, uh, you think so…?”

Lailah nods. “All of you do!”

Dezel hums and brings up the rear of their party. When he holds out Zenrus’ bag, Sorey takes it and loops it over his head gratefully. Of all, Dezel seems the most uncomfortable in the reds and deep blacks and browns of the Fire Nation jacket and pants hanging loose around his figure. “Then let us reunite with the Sparrowfeathers as quickly as possible. We should thank them for procuring us these garbs.”

Sorey looks up at Dezel, both hands wrapped around the bag strap. “You think Rose and Eguille made it into the palace okay?”

“They’re professionals, Sorey.”

“Yeah, and I know you said that before, but I still don’t fully get how that’s supposed to make me feel better.”

“It means,” Dezel hums and walks past Sorey and out of the alleyway into the street. “That it should have been obvious to you long ago that selling imports isn’t the only business the Sparrowfeathers partake in.”

Sorey still doesn’t know what to make of that.

Before he can follow his teacher out onto the street, Lailah puts a hand on his shoulder. “Sorey—listen. There’s one last thing we have to take care of before we depart. We need to change our names.”

Sorey’s eyes widen. “Everyone’s names?”

“W-well, most of the others should be fine, actually!” There’s a falter in Lailah’s voice Sorey hasn’t heard before, a hitch in speech that twists Sorey’s stomach and zeroes his attention on her, wondering if there’s something in her words he missed that he should have paid attention to. Something he should understand or know but doesn’t. “Rose and the others are from the Fire Nation already. Their names are fine. Mikleo and Dezel aren’t too obvious detractors. But you and I…well, just to be safe, we should call each other by different names until we’re out of the Fire Nation.”

“Really?” Sorey frowns. “Why? Do so many people know the Avatar’s name already…?”

“W-well—it’s—it’s just in case! You know? A precautionary measure. Yes!”

And there it is again. That wobbly uncertainty.

Sorey watches Lailah for a long moment. Lailah has always been difficult to read, always smiling even in situations when Sorey isn’t entirely certain she should smile. When finally he nods, he doesn’t miss the relieved sigh that slips out of her.

“Okay, so, we’ll go with something simple,” Lailah says, “There are many good names out there, so I’ll let you decide which one you want to use while we’re here…”

- o - o - o -

Boris doesn’t anticipate finding Sergei staring off into space at the window when he first walks in the crown prince’s quarters. At first, he turns around to duck his head out into the hall to make sure he’s walked into the right room before he turns around and observes his brother’s dazed profile.

Huh.

Perhaps he can capitalize on this.

“Looks like someone still needs sleep,” Boris begins and clasps his arms behind his back, striding forward with long, lazy steps.

Sergei blinks, jumps, and turns. The instant he sees Boris, however, whatever fright had tensed his figure just as quickly slips away. He pinches the bridge of his nose and makes a sound low in his throat. “Oh. It’s just you.”

“Just me?” Boris scoffs and places a hand over his chest. He staggers back a step. “Ugh! You wound me, brother.”

“Don’t be so dramatic.”

Boris laughs, but when Sergei doesn’t join in, the smile fades. He strides closer to slap a hand over Sergei’s shoulder. “Wow. You’re out of it. What, did you wake up on the wrong side of bed?”

“You could say that.”

Sergei’s voice is a quiet murmur.

It reminds Boris faintly of a barren desert. Dry and wistful, waiting for the slightest chance of rain. What a morbid comparison, he can’t help but think: to compare his brother to a lifeless ground. Boris shakes his head and squeezes Sergei’s shoulder instead. “Well, I can tell something is troubling you.”

“Of course it is,” Sergei mutters. “There’s always a great many number of things troubling me.”

Boris rolls his eyes. “Now who’s being dramatic?”

“I simply—”

It’s not the first time that Boris has seen Sergei’s eyes mist over. Sergei, for all of his stiff manners and rigid posture, has always had the more tender, weepy heart. He cries much more easily than his twin.

But it is the quickness of it, the suddenness of those wet eyes, that draws Boris up short.

“—he’s out there, Boris,” Sergei whispers tightly. “We know this, now. We know he is there. Somewhere. After all this time…and I had every opportunity to hold him again and lost it. How can such a thing make me as happy as much as it hurts me?”

Boris doesn’t need to ask who.

“Do you think he will ever know?”

He squeezes Sergei’s shoulder again. “I can’t say, brother.”

Boris doesn’t know what to make of the silence that follows. Is it mournful? Hopeful? Expectant? Or is it something else entirely?

- o - o - o -

“S—Daija! Hey! Don’t run ahead so fast!”

Sorey grins and spins around. “Ah-ah-ah! You almost slipped, Mikleo!”

“No thanks to you!” Mikleo scowls. “What are you doing, running around like you own the marketplace?”

“There’s food to eat, Mikleo! I’m starving! Plus, I haven’t had any of this stuff in like, ages, so I’m super excited to eat it again.” Sorey’s hands are tight around the bag strap over his shoulder. He’s practically running in place as he waits for Mikleo, Lailah, and Dezel to catch up. “Besides, what else are we supposed to do while we wait for Rose and Eguille? I remember there used to be these delicious roasted komodo chicken kabobs with lots of different veggies between ‘em—I don’t even remember what they were! But they were so good! I wonder if we can find some…”

Mikleo’s face tightens. “Yeah?”

“Yeah!” Sorey continues breezily. He splays a hand out, looking around at the food stalls they pass by, where fruit of various sizes and shapes sit on display. There’s a salty, savory smell in the air and Sorey breathes his lungs full of it. “Man! I haven’t eaten some of this stuff in ten years! This takes me back!”

Mikleo bites his lip. Idly, he scratches at one arm with the fingers of his opposite hand. “It does, huh…?” He catches sight of the palace walls, further down the marketplace.

Above their heads, giant banners dangle in the air, red and gleaming. Their golden trim catches the light, framing the illustriously painted silhouette of a bearded, fire-crowned man who Mikleo has no doubt is Fire Lord Heldalf himself.

And with that face literally hanging over us, still he smiles?

“Is that…a good thing?” Mikleo hedges.

Sorey jerks around. His green eyes stretch wide. “Huh?”

Suddenly, it’s very hard for Mikleo to meet those eyes. He crosses his arms around his middle. “I mean…you never…”

What am I trying to say here?

“You never talked a lot about what life was like for you in the Fire Nation before you and Gramps came to the South Pole. So I guess I always thought you hated it. Or you didn’t remember it.” And maybe, some part of a very young and impressionable Mikleo had enjoyed being able to be part of a positive change in a friend’s life and took pride, even, in the possibility that his home was the better home for Sorey. “Was I wrong?”

“What?” Sorey blinks and shakes his head quickly. “No! I—”

Sharply, Sorey looks away, too.

Mikleo watches him for a long moment. His chest twinges. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“No, it’s okay. You’re right.” Sorey shrugs but there’s something in his eyes that is far-away as if trying to recall something that he’s long forgotten. “I don’t remember everything, but what I do remember from over ten years ago isn’t…that great. I guess I just didn’t want to think about those parts. Y’know?”

Mikleo steps closer. He squeezes Sorey’s hand. “Yeah.”

Sorey smiles.

Mikleo tilts his head. “So…can I ask…?”

“Ask what?”

“About what you do remember?”

Sorey hitches a breath and looks away. “Uh—well, I—”

“It’s the Fire Lord!”

“Fire Lord Heldalf!”

“He’s coming!”

Sharply, immediately, a commotion breaks out further down the street. Sorey and Mikleo share one look and jerk back as a procession clears the way, quick to hide behind the thinning edge of the crowd as a palanquin approaches. Mikleo holds tight to Sorey, as an ornate, golden palanquin is carried down the center of the street.

It’s plush, regal. Upholstered with only the finest satin and cotton. The heavy, dark curtains are pulled back with golden ropes, and through the posts, and holes in the honeycomb half-walls, the stern, wide profile of the Fire Lord can be seen, his thick, dark beard curling over his chest.

“Make way for Fire Lord Heldalf!” the attendants ahead of the palanquin shout, their backs straight and rigid, arms extended.

“Daija!” Lailah’s voice calls from far away, a worried note in her pitch.

Oh.

Time might have stopped.

Maybe it did.

About what you do remember, Mikleo had asked.

“I—”

The Fire Lord doesn’t glance at them. Nothing in his stern countenance shifts as his palanquin is carried by. The frown on his square face doesn’t budge; his eyes stare at nothing. Perhaps they are nothing to him; all of them.

But for just a moment, he is closer than he has been in ten years.

And it is enough.

Mikleo squeezes his hand. “Daija?”

The palanquin has passed.

Sorey blinks once, twice, and thinks he can remember plenty. “I know that face.”

“What?”

“I know—”

A raised voice out of an angry face. There were always so many lines digging into the skin high above the man’s brow and around his mouth. It had always looked as if his face had been distorted, every time he would spit, No true son of mine would ever turn out to be a lowly nonbender—and it hurt, it hurt, so much that all Sorey could think of at the time to say over and over again, prostrating himself, was, I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Dad—

“Bergs!”

Sorey stumbles back.

Mikleo clasps his hands around his arms, eyes wide. A pale moonface flooding his vision. “So—Daija! Are you okay?! What’s wrong?”

Sorey raises his eyes. Immediately, Lailah and Dezel are there, squeezing closer through the massive press of people around them. Her hands flutter towards him first before threading together in front of her stomach, shaking. Her fingers are clutched so tightly, her skin burns a brighter, pallid white.

“I think…” the Fire Sage says quietly and slowly, “…we should find a place to sit.”

- o - o - o -

The door opens with a creak, loud enough to break Sergei out of his reverie. He lifts his head from his fist as a young soldier strides in and respectfully bows. His eyes dart down to the reports and maps scattered across the table in front of him that he hasn’t been paying attention to all morning.

What will Father say when he knows what little work I’ve managed to finish?

With a tight wince, Sergei rubs his forehead.

The soldier remains bowed even as her voice—unfamiliar to him—rings out: “A message for you, Crown Prince.”

“Oh?” Sergei waves her forward. “I won’t ask who it’s from. It’s undoubtedly Father again with another matter he wants me to address while he’s out. Bring it here, then.”

As she steps forward with the scroll held out, Sergei takes a glance up and takes in the strange, unfitting way the uniform falls over the young woman’s form. She’s short; the armor looks like it would have fit better on someone two sizes taller.

“Are you a new recruit?” he asks as he takes the extended scroll.

The soldier ducks her head. “Yes. I’ve not yet been in the service for two weeks, your highness.”

“Mm.” Sergei nods. That explains it. His fingers catch on the edge of the scroll as he begins to distractedly unroll it. “When you can, inform your superior officer that the Crown Prince approves of you being fitted for more comfortable armor. I’d hate for you to be encumbered thusly by ill-fitting attire and unable to perform your duties.”

“Oh—” The soldier flounders for a second, her mouth flapping uselessly. Not for the first time, Sergei finds he hates the Fire Nation helmets that obscure half of every soldier’s face. A strand of red hair tickles her cheek, peeking out beneath the cover of her helmet. “Thank you, sir.”

Sergei nods and lifts a hand. “Dismissed.”

For a woman wearing armor much too large for her, she does not haste in making her departure.

The scroll unrolls quickly in Sergei’s hands. His eyes fall upon the end first—a habit he has always had since he was a child, eager to see who sent the message before reading its contents—but as soon as he sees the name Sorey in scratchy, misshapen letters, inked at the bottom, he freezes.

He jerks up so fast, his knees catching on the edge of his table, nearly upending it and spilling papers and figures and quills to the floor. With little care for anything that has fallen, Sergei launches himself to the door and opens it wide.

“Wait!” he shouts into the hallway.

Only the men already standing guard jerk to attention.

Even when they search the entire palace, the redheaded soldier with the too-big armor is nowhere to be seen.

- o - o - o -

Sorey sits on a large wooden shipping box, his back to a stone wall, holding his face in his hands. He hasn’t moved for several moments, bent and silent. Mikleo hovers at his shoulder, violet eyes traveling over the other faces of their small party as they wait. For a moment, he wonders if he’s the only one who missed what had transpired on the street. Lailah and Dezel’s faces both are unreadable: Lailah’s pinched and Dezel’s frowning.

“Are…you all right, Sorey?” Mikleo murmurs.

Sorey sighs tightly.

“You remember now, don’t you?” Lailah says quietly.

Sorey doesn’t answer.

“I must admit, when I first met you, I had thought it strange you acted like you didn’t know at all, but…I don’t know. I figured you were young. Perhaps you forgot. Memory can be a fickle thing.”

“Remember what?” Mikleo asks. “What is it he’s supposed to remember?”

Finally, for the first time in several minutes, he speaks—and when he does, it’s defeated. Quiet. “That I’m a Fire Prince.”

Mikleo freezes. “You…” He spins on Sorey, body numb. “Wait, what?”

Sorey’s fingers press hard into his eyes before his hands fall.

This time, when he says it, he meets Mikleo’s gaze head on. “I’m a Fire Prince, Mikleo. Crown Prince Sergei and Fire Prince Boris, they’re my brothers. And Fire Lord Heldalf…I…he’s…he’s my father.”

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roseprincesskristina · 4 years ago

Text

New Year Love

((Since this is the true conclusion of 2020 despite of all the gun violence, pandemic, deaths, sadness and such. But now, everyone begins with a new chapter for 2021. For this story, humans and reploids are more prepared for the millennium of a lifetime, saying goodbye to the old year by making way for the true beginning of the future. While the two Maverick Hunters are, on the other, are enjoying their new year celebration by spending with each other in private at HQ, especially Zero's room. Before reading, it involves yaoi. So if you are not a fan, then you don't have to read this fiction. But, if so, you're welcome to enjoy this story. Anywho, without further ado, please enjoy reading and Happy New Year! 😊🎉🎉🎉🎇🎇🎇))

Midnight has slowly made its way by the appearance before the starting event of this evening's New Year extravaganza party here in Abel City, where the white diamond orb of light ascended into the middle of the dark sapphire skies, sided with a few stars twinkling beautifully like the precious gems or the clear oceans. Crickets created a quiet chirping sound for the soothing mood when it comes to nighttime, fireflies brighten their bottoms into the flashy shade of green for an even more peaceful atmosphere all across the earth. Humans, along with reploids, are surely hyped up for the conclusion of this previous year due to the endless cycle of maverick revolution ruled by the infamous king of all irregularities and former commander of the band of hunters, Sigma.

Few or many lives have been revoked into death, cities crumbled from certain attacks, and to cease the existence of all mankind to all the strongest robotic kind to rule the universe for eternity.

With every bit of hope have almost been decreased hastily, but thankfully, a duo of elite crime busting hunters have intervene the former mad commander's ambitions as well as to destroy his schemes in puny smithereens. One of them is the pure hearted B Class gun user who despises the unyielding feud between machines and man with the possessed potential. The other one is the serious, too cool for school A Class beam saber wielder with a non reckless strategy and lacks the practice of mercy towards enemies. Together, they're known as Maverick Hunters. Humanity's last hope for achieved freedom from disasters. Battling their paths throughout a horde of those who would follow their master's footsteps, especially the eight criminals that use to be hunters from before. Dueling against the arrogant rabble rouser in purple named Vile, and finally, ending the nightmarish nightmare by defeating the big boss himself. Numerous times in fact, no matter how many times he resurrected himself, but always dismantled by the irregular hunting crusaders. Peace has been restored at last, cleansed by the virus of villainy, where everyone began to applaud towards the hunters of foiling their enemies dreams. And this, where it all began, the true combination of both reploids and mankind living as one.

Meanwhile, back at the present time where everyone, as well as the Maverick Hunters, have began their special occasion at the Hunter HQ garden fields. Decorated everyone including the new year drop ball for the later countdown. While the guests are partying, having a wonderful time together, chatting, enjoying foods and drinks, taking turns with their speeches about others who made their lives even better if it wasn't for them during the crazy year, and lastly, telling of their new years resolution. Folks and reploids are remaining by having a blast. Even the rousing young prototype who is now a hunter, Axl.

Elsewhere away from the gang, the two droids, X and Zero, are relaxing in one piece alone inside of each other's room, enjoying their new year solo time in the dark. Mouth connected all night long without ever wanting to stop, caressing their backs smoothly, grinding on one's armored bodies to force out the satisfy moans from the lower part of their stomachs.

"U...Unh~ Oh Zero~ Please don't stop yourself from polishing my body~ I... I kinda love it when you massage me~" Moaned the shy hunter of the 17th unit, intrigued by his crimson partner's soft touch across him. Letting out his pinkish tongue before panting, pleading for more.

"X~ You know I love it when you're enjoying my hands placed on your gorgeous little ass along with your body~" Aroused the blood colored mentor, kissing his lover's entire body with a starving attitude. "I want more of you, baby~ Your softness and nature have cured my cursed bloodlust from the past~ I lost control of myself, but now that you're here by my side, I felt peacefully comfortable around you~"

"Zero~ Zero~ I don't wanna live in this new year without you~ You're even more important to me that lifted my spirits~ Reminding me of your inspiration has made me the symbol of peace, helping others in need and beating Sigma with my full power and your courage that help me succeed~ It's all thanks to everyone who guided me, especially you, my love~"

"X~ You also done the same thing when I was acting too serious during my missions~ Refusing to accept anyone's help but to work on my own turfs, becoming stubborn every time someone wanted to help, and I'm very sorry for calling soft because of your emotions and sympathy towards your foes~ It really inspired me to be myself and still as cool thanks to you~ Nothing would put a smile upon my face more than your words of kindness which filled my cold broken heart~ So, thanks again, baby~ You really made my day~"

Influencing each other with the gallon of appreciation, sided along a plate of love, the cuddling couple resuming their enjoyment together by lip sucking like there's no tomorrow or next time. Making out all crazy on the bed, tongue kissing, giving one a naughty spanking for being a bad reploid. Comforting each others well beings or souls by their warmth, ignoring useless judgements by flushing them, along with hatred, down the toilet where it belongs. Living within their less colder shadows with full confidence, snuggle into one's shoulders without getting lost in the middle of nowhere but ridicules from anyone possessing a haughty personality. Watching out or got their backs when it comes to danger, filling in due their absence from missions or meetings.

"Zero~ What would be your new years resolution~?" He asked, but was already aware of that answer.

"It's obvious, babe~ To stay by your side for as long as it takes~ Cause I'm not going anywhere now that you're alone with me~" The upperclass hunter replied, pulling his cerulean closer to him for a deeper smooch as well as the desperate taste.

"I would think of doing the same thing~ I felt very strong hearted around you, Zero~" The kind spirited lower class smiled, responded with a kiss while being pulled towards.

"Mmmm~"

"Mmmmm~"

Their longing silent mouth connections have shut off the horrible memories that bother them, as well as their focuses, replacing all of it with each other's images to help them relax and regain control once again. Leaving everything in the past behind them or to never look back. For a harmonious year to come very shortly, two hearts have finally conjoined into one.

"Zero~ I love you~ With all my heart~"

"I love you, X~ Even if it means to sacrifice my life to protect you~"

"And I will always be your guardian angel to help you rise up when you're going to give up~"

"And I'll be your undying strength when you're giving out~"

Outside the Hunter Base, the entire crowd is completely prepared for the exciting countdown to be announced. Their hearts began to pump a rapid beat to helping the blood increase greatly. Even the teen shape shifter has felt this hyped up since his first promotion of becoming an irregular destroyer. They all have directed their attention upwards the skies for the fireworks to burst after the millennium ball has descended.

Inside, both the maverick stoppers wrapped themselves into each other's arms for a permanent embrace. Cherishing their hearts with tenderness and softness clothing their surroundings to form a private barrier around them without interruption from anybody.

"Thanks for being here with me all these years, Zero~ Having you by my side has really put a grin on my face~" X said gladly, feeling the endless warmth from his mentor's hand keeping him company.put

"Anytime, X~ You've done the same for me since we met~ Everything would be a living hell without you~ I'm glad that peace has been brought back because of you~" Replied Zero, smiling towards his young lover into his grasps. Happily being with one another forever, away from the densed insults showering them. But to be praised by those with positive traits around them that assist their mysterious potential to proceed further instead of stopping. Earning complements and friendships that never ends. Also, to be there for all reploids and humans.

"And mostly ~.... "

"But most of all~...."

And finally, the backwards counting has commenced as everyone joined in. While the two lovers would approach each other for a new year kiss.

The crowd starts to count: "10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1!"

Both irregular fighters have reached into their faces saying this before the reunited lip mashing.

"You are my everything~"

The entire audience have shouted "HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!" as they cheer roaringly, while both lovers have kissed at last. Hearing the booming effects of the bursting fireworks into the air, lighting on their armors into the middle of a occasional deep smooch. All kinds have continued their fun during the beginning of the new millennium, hoping for it be far more better than this year. And as for the B and A Class heroes, well, everyone is already aware of their new year resolution: Staying by each other's side no matter, even when it means to sacrifice their lives.

"Happy New Year, Zero~"

"Happy New Year, X~"

"And... I love you~..."

"I love you too, baby blue~... Never forget it~"

"Oh Zero~"

"Oh X~"

"Zero~"

"X~"

"Zero~...."

"X~...."

"Zero~..... " Whispered the peace admiring buster bearer, proceeding his face towards his loving partner closely.

"X~...." Same goes for the scarlet swordsman, meeting his cute teammate's face for a preparing lip to lip sucking as well.

The duo are now continuing their holiday moment with each other alone by meeting lips once more, allowing the rest to enjoy their evening as well. Hopefully, this new and improved chapter will become much more tranquil than the unending disasters happening from the old year. Wherever there's trouble hidden itself out of suspicion without ever to become noticed, the inhuman hunting dream team will always get the job done quickly and over with. All humans and reploids will forever live as one, no matter the difference or appearances, everything will be possible.

The End

Happy New Year, everyone!

#megaman #x #zero #zerox #yaoi #new year #beginning of 2021 #fan fic #happy new year

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dragonrajafanfiction · 4 years ago

Text

Dragon Dancer IV: Paranoia

The bright light of day shined in a halo around the black out curtains by the time I opened my eyes. I’d never been so exhausted.

After studying Herzog’s documents through the night, we’d decided to stop at a 24hour Ramen shop at 3 am. Then at 4 am, we came under a subversive attack.

The Academy had tricked Crow into playing a recording on the public broadcast system. On the surface, it seemed like it was a generic PSA to help convince Nono go home to her father. Deep within the audio, however, was the sound of Herzog’s clapper.

Lu Mingfei completely lost his mind and went into a draconized state. They’d fired every sort ammunition and rocket and missile at him from a helicopter, but he somehow survived long enough to get back to the warehouse where we’d been hiding out.

An agent, who turned out to be my friend Susie, followed us there and in the ensuing fight, I’d slashed open a canister of kerosene. Chu Zihang joined in the battle, flicked a lighter and set it on fire.

We’d managed to escape all of that. But by that time, the sun was coming up and we were three bloody foreigners, one of them a naked injured man, out in broad daylight.

Who should come to our rescue but the same familiar face who had brought me to the Takamagahara a year ago.

Su Enxi.

A year ago, this friend of Lu Mingfei’s saved us when I had teleported from the wreckage of the Trieste. Kaguya and the Japanese Executive department had us on the run. Johann was dying from the ravages of his own dragonblood and needed treatment, but an attack by a gang drove us from our hide out.

There in the street, where Johann lay, she pulled up in a van and demanded we get inside.

So I got a sense of deja vu, when once again, she opened the door to a large SUV and peered out at us, her blonde hair spilling over her thin shoulders, and asked if we needed a lift.

She didn’t take us back to the Takamagahara, however, but to the love hotel that Lu Mingfei said he’d stayed with Erii.

They had bought the place and were running it.

Why Lu Mingfei had such rich people following him around was as big of a mystery as why he turned into a dragon at the sound of percussion.

I sighed, and let out a weak moan, testing out my voice. The toxin that Susie had used on me was temporary, thankfully. My voice was still a bit weak, but I no longer choked every time I wanted to open my mouth and say something.

I sat up and moved to the edge of the King Size heart shaped bed. They didn’t keep cribs here, but Ru’Yi was happy to sleep on the floor. It was the longest sleep she’d had and I didn’t blame her. Her eyes were closed, her little belly rising up and down. I smiled.

I checked the clock to find it was 5 pm. I’d just woken up and the day was almost over.

I dialed Nono’s room. She picked up.

“Yes?”

“Hey, it’s me Carli. How’s Mingfei?”

“He woke up this morning, but passed back out again. But he’s healing. He’s regained movement in his arms. It’s just painful.”

“And Zihang?”

“He’s asleep still. Can I talk to you about him, for just a moment?”

“Sure!”

“What are you going to do if he never turns back into the man you remember?”

I sighed wearily. “I can’t think that way, Nono. I have to keep believing this will turn out. I can’t lose hope.”

“I understand how you feel. But I also agree with something Susie said.”

“What was it?”

“You need to think about your daughter.”

I exhaled and leaned against the headboard.

Nono continued. “This is getting too serious. I understand why you ran from the Academy but... this is going to get more and more difficult. We can’t be worrying about things like diapers.”

I laughed a little. “Yeah... What do you suggest?”

“Stay here with Crow. There’s this place to hide out. And also the Shrine.”

“What about Zihang?”

“You trusted Mingfei to find him before right? And he did find him. Trust him to finish the job.”

I was silent for a few seconds. “Okay...”

I hung up the phone and looked up at the gaudy mirrored ceiling. My mind went back to the scene in the warehouse. Johann Chu had just been watching the fight between Nono and Susie, until Nono dove into a hailstorm of black iron daggers. Then he picked up a bookcase full of thick heavy books and heaved it over to keep them from killing Nono.

I paused and rewound that scene in my head.

No one in their right mind would think such a feat were possible for anyone, much less for themselves... and even less if they thought they were a fifteen year old kid as Johann supposedly did.

What possessed him to believe that he could haul off and fling a heavy object like that?

I imagined a fast forward button, remembering his fight with Susie.

The way he fought was with a killer’s eye. He’d wasted no movement on disabling attacks. Had Susie been a little slower, he would have gutted her. He was aiming to kill. Does a 15 year old study at a children’s dojo to learn to kill?

My conclusion was no.

I sat up a little straighter.

The idea of his suddenly knowing he could chuck a bookcase after forgetting everything else was further evidence that the theory of time travel was wrong. Johann hadn’t gone back in time and made the decision to stay in Nibelungen. Then why couldn’t he remember me and Mingfei?

I pounded my fist into my palm.

The same reason no one else could remember him! The same Soul Skill that prevented people from remembering him kept him from remembering us!

But Toyama’s gentle question lingered. “So this dragon is deceiving everyone but us? Why?” I asked out loud. I leaned my face in my hands. “Why?”

Whoever did this must know us and Johann Chu. To pick us out of the millions of people on Earth to deliberately allow us to remember Chu Zihang and then modify Chu Zihang’s memories so that he thought he turned around to save his father. But this was a false memory. He forgot me and Ru’Yi and Cassell and dragons and thought he was in the Nibelungen since 15. But he didn’t actually remember being there!

Whoever did this knew who Chu Zihang was! He knew who we were!

“What does it want? Why do this?” I whispered through my teeth, holding my head.

A thin whimper brought me out of my circling thoughts. I rushed to scoop up Ru’Yi before she could feel the slightest bit of fear and held her close to me to feed her. No doubt she would be starving after such a long sleep.

I settled her against me and looked down into her eyes. She looked directly back at me, reading my face a moment but then her eyes unfocused as the milk began to flow and sating her hunger became top priority.

My mind continued to pick through what I knew. This time I rewound all the way back to the beginning.

Shortly after Mingfei’s return, the Dragon Skeletons were stolen and the blame was pinned on Mingfei. Surely this was related. I knew that dragons devoured their own kind in order to attain more power. Was all this just to get those skeletons?

It may seem overkill but with a dragon skeleton to devour, a dragon could attain god-level powers.

But it still didn’t explain: Why target Mingfei?

The images of the woodblock flashed through my head. There was only one person who knew to use that woodblock and I’d said his name.

Herzog.

Mingfei was the person who had defeated him. If he had a second chance, surely, he would go after Mingfei first.

“Crow said he got that video from the Academy? Who at Cassell knew to use the woodblock to provoke that reaction?!” I hissed. “Someone associated with ... Herzog...”

My heart squeezed in my chest and I could feel myself start to panic. “Wait... someone associated with Herzog... is at Cassell?”

Wasn’t it true that Herzog only copied Bondarev? And Bondarev had access to first hand information? And wasn’t Cassell college such a repository of information?

Could someone who could modify EVAs code to stop protecting us, also modify the evidence against Mingfei?

While I was being interrogated, they showed me the video footage of the attack on the Principal. I saw how it was so fast that not even the man with Time Zero could block it. Maybe a hybrid couldn’t do such a thing, but maybe a dragon could.

A dragon... associated with Herzog and Bondarev... at Cassell?

Could the person who had caused me so much misery be the puppeteer behind the most violent and powerful deep state in the entire world? Or... a dragon behind that person?

I shook my head.

I couldn’t stay with Crow. Crow had to play footsie with that organization. The longer we were here, the longer he was in danger. I bet if I said anything to him about what I thought, he’d be killed just for knowing too much.

I looked down at Ru’Yi as she sucked greedily at my breast and realized that if what happened to my firstborn son happened to her, I wouldn’t be able to survive it!

Someone knocked at the door. My whole body jolted. I grabbed Tongzi from the night stand. If there was a dragon behind that door, this was a blade that could kill it.

“Who is it?” I asked, my voice still hoarse from the toxin.

“It’s Zihang.”

I relaxed somewhat and checked the clock. It had been thirty minutes so it was plausible that he had woken up and gotten dressed to come to my door.

Ru’Yi fought me when I tried to pull her off. I didn’t want her to start crying. So with the baby still firmly attached I made my way as quietly as I could to the door and peered out the peep hole.

He was standing there. At least, the person who looked like him. Couldn’t Herzog change forms?

“First, tell me the name you gave me.”

Zihang seemed confused a moment. “Chufeng?”

“Right. Okay. What is it?”

“I’m going to get some ice cream. Did you need anything?”

“By yourself?” I asked, appalled.

“Yes.”

“No you are not. Wait. I’m going with you.”

“Okay.”

#Nono #Chen Moutong #Johann Chu #Chu Zihang #Lu Mingfei #Mingfei Lu #Dragon Raja #Fanfiction #Writing

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risottostitties · 5 years ago

Note

I love your headcanon posts! what are some of your headcanons (backstory and personality) for the rest of La Squadra?

Oh boy, these got kinda long. I hope you enjoy my dumb rambling about La Squadra (also my bias towards Melone and Sorbet+Gelato is showing I’m so sorry) I added the songs I used for inspiration on Sorbet and Gelato’s stands so that’s something lmao

Also also I’m still trying to figure out formatting on tumblr I’m so sorry.

Also also also I have so many dumb headcanons for the inner bureaucratic workings of Passione and what each ‘position’ in the gang entails and how Passione became a dominant force in Italy and oops I’ve slipped them in here a bit my b.

Fromaggio

- He got his start smuggling. Drugs, weapons, people, Little Feet made that a breeze.

- The thought of being an assassin never crossed his mind, because it seemed like a lot of work. More so than smuggling which was basically just getting stuff from point a to point b without getting caught.

- Fromaggio was a confident dude, laid back and easy going with an agreeable personality that most people enjoyed.

- He’s not exactly details oriented though, and that’s what came to bite him in the ass.

- He was working with one of the few groups not affiliated with Passione and it was only a matter of time before the operation was busted.

- Fromaggio never really asked many questions about his jobs, nor did he care very much who or what he was smuggling. He met with a man in Malta seeking entrance into Naples and was willing to pay handsomely. So of course, Fromaggio agreed.

- If he’d been paying more attention, he would have recognized that man as Prosciutto.

- Fromaggio brought the assassin right into their main warehouse and it was game over from there.

- Prosciutto took interest in Fromaggio’s stand and decided against killing the man, instead bringing him to Risotto to see what the Capo thought about his abilities.

- When offered a choice between dying with the rest of his old associates or joining Passione, the choice was obvious.

- He really, really enjoys gambling. Prosciutto supplements his income with Fromaggio’s gambling habit.

- Fromaggio gets along well with all of La Squadra. He’s always been an agreeable dude and he’s willing to give just about anything a shot once. So he’s at least passingly knowledgeable about the interests and hobbies of other members.

- Fromaggio, Prosciutto, Pesci, Ghiaccio, and Melone make up the main ‘kill squad’ of La Squadra where Illuso, Sorbet, and Gelato handle clean up and intel gathering.

Illuso

- Illuso does very little killing himself. For the most part, he deals with disposing of evidence. The mirror world is great for that.

- Because of this he has the lowest kill count out of all of them.

- He is Sicilian like Risotto, and they converse in Siciliano when it’s just the two of them. Neither of them is particularly chatty though.

- Ghiaccio and Pesci didn’t know he was a member of the squad for weeks because he rarely ever leaves the mirror. He doesn’t even have a room in their hideout, he just sleeps in the room of whoever forgets to cover their mirror.

- Most of the time its Pesci’s room because he feels bad

- I hc him at about 27

- He joined La Squadra after Ghiaccio and was more or less ‘gifted’ by Polpo because of his quiet demeanor.

Ghiaccio

- He’s baby (24)

- His first kill was at age 18 when he was working in a chop shop and beat someone to death with a wrench.

- Melone was the one to bring him into La Squadra, his bike was getting some work done in the shop and he was there to see Ghiaccio snap.

- Risotto wasn’t keen on letting someone so young join La Squadra and initially turned Ghiaccio away. Which pissed the boy off enough for him to seek out Polpo, demand a trial, and come back with White Album.

- He had never skated in his life, but White Album gave him the instinctive ability to do so.

- He can only skate while wearing White Album. Without it, he actually had to learn.

- He reflexes and balance also improved greatly after gaining White Album

- He’s the only one not ‘trained’ by Prosciutto, instead Risotto took over his ‘training’. The Capo wanted to personally make sure he was equipped to handle the life that comes with La Squadra.

- Risotto and Ghiaccio are quite close. Risotto was initially intrigued by White Album and Ghiaccio liked Risotto the most because he was the only person who was careful with his words.

- He’s got a keen eye for detail and an eidetic memory. He enjoys taking apart electronics and seeing how they work (and how he can improve them)

- Ghiaccio enjoys working with cars, but doesn’t like all the oil and grease.

Melone

- I hc his age at 28

- He was always too inquisitive for his own good, and very curious as a child. Most people found him annoying

- Melone has absolutely zero respect for personal space. If he likes you, he will hang off you without a second thought.

- And if someone retaliates jokes on you he think’s its hot.

- It is possible to make him angry, but he won’t let it show out of spite. You really gotta be angling for it if you want to piss him off, and if you’ve put in that much effort into getting a rise out of him he’s not going to give you the satisfaction.

- His mom was like Giorno’s, a party girl who resented her children for holding her back

- He has an older half sister who took care of him when he was younger. They were extremely close.

- From her he learned to paint nails, braid hair, and they both really enjoyed looking at horoscopes and other astrology/pseudoscience things.

- She was 10 years older than Melone, and when she married Melone went to live with her (he was about 12 at the time) and he never really got along with his brother in law.

- Her husband was in Passione, a low ranking Soldato but an ambitious one. She was aware of her husband’s occupation but decided the risk was worth the reward (and the financial stability)

- Her eventual pregnancy led to Melone’s fascination with pregnancy and childrearing.

- She died due to complications with a late term miscarriage when he was 16

- After this Melone and his brother in law stuck together. Melone joined Passione, receiving his stand from Polpo’s Arrow.

- The pair of them had a pretty good scheme going on but eventually his brother in law bit off more than he could chew, and Risotto was called in to clean up the mess.

- Babyface proved to be a challenge, and instead of eliminating Melone as he was working with the target Risotto decided to offer him a choice.

- Self-preservation won out and in a show of loyalty Melone had Babyface kill his former brother in law. At best, he tolerated the man because his sister loved him and after she died he was a good meal ticket so when his life was on the line it didn’t take much prodding for Melone to turn on him.

- It took a while for Risotto to trust him because of how easily Melone’s loyalties shifted but once that trust was earned Melone never gave Risotto a reason to regret it even if his impulsive decisions (such as dragging Ghiaccio into Passione) caused him some trouble occasionally.

Pesci

- Pesci is actually, genuinely, a sweet guy. He’s respectful of his superiors, polite (if not a bit awkward) to strangers, will offer help if he sees someone struggling with a heavy bag or something on a high grocery shelf, the whole nine yards.

- He has a habit of second guessing himself and apologizing often but is quick to offer reassurance to people if he sees they’re having a bad day.

- He also has a hair trigger temper and killed a man by snapping his neck with his bare hands.

- That’s what landed him in jail.

- Its like flipping a switch with this guy.

- Risotto personally bailed Pesci out of jail and brought him into his team because of his brute strength. It was novel, to see someone so capable without a stand.

- He received his stand from Polpo’s arrow.

- Pesci is the newest member of La Squadra, but not the youngest (that honor goes to Ghiaccio) and I personally hc him at 25

- His ‘training’ mostly consists of shadowing Prosciutto and observing how he does things. There is a lot to be learned from watching another stand user work, even if their stands are vastly different.

- He lacks real strategy, which is another reason he was teamed up with Prosciutto (who winds up ‘training’ most of the new recruits anyway)

- He’ll be considered a full fledged assassin once he completes his first job on his own (with Illuso or Fromaggio tailing him to observe, depending on the abundance of mirrors)

Sorbet and Gelato

- Of the two, Sorbet is the most talkative. He’s got a pretty good sense of humor, and a natural charisma about him that puts people at ease if they don’t already know him

- Gelato and Prosciutto are both card sharks and they keep their skills sharp by practicing on each other.

- While no one would call any of them selfless, they would lay down their lives for each other without hesitation.

- They have so many words unique to their relationship that people listening in would assume they’re talking in code half the time.

- Sorbet and Gelato are the oldest members of La Squadra. Sorbet was 36 when he died, and Gelato was 41

- Sorbet got his start in Passione, Gelato was part of a ‘merger’ so to speak.

- The previous syndicate Gelato was a part of was assimilated by Passione after Diavolo returned to Italy. He was familiar with Pericolo as they had been part of the same group.

- Sorbet and Gelato both have stands, although they were both born stand users.

- Gelato’s stand is called Mack the Knife and it allows him to eat anything regardless of size (and his stomach acid has a ph value of 1.3). On top of this, it also gives him sharp and study teeth. If for some reason something he eats breaks a tooth he has more in reserve, like a shark.

- Sorbet’s stand is called Fortunate Son and essentially it hides the user and anyone they touch in plain sight. They’re not invisible, but you must be consciously looking for Sorbet in order to find him when Fortunate Son is active.

- They joined La Squadra before it was ‘La Squadra’ Risotto (being green himself at the time) wanted more experienced people on his team but had little to no luck recruiting people until these two.

- They’re well known in the gang for their unorthodox (putting it gently) methods of doing things and kept most people from approaching them.

- Primarily they ‘interview’ people for information on Squadra targets, but those interviews always turn deadly.

- While they enjoy killing more than anyone else in La Squadra, they don’t typically get kill jobs because they’re just good at interrogating people. They make do with that just fine though. Neither of them enjoys leaving loose ends.

- Before Illuso joined, Gelato oversaw clean up and disposal.

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toku-explained · 4 years ago

Text

The Darkest Swordsman

Z: GAFJ have developed D4 from Barabas' horn, a dimension destroying weapon, and have ordered it's installation in King Joe STORAGE Custom, the installation overseen by Yuki Mai. The Maintenance team make clear from the start they are against this, and the main squad are clearly against it as well, and the Director makes clear he is against using D4 as well, but orders have come down, he's not well, and Celebro encounters him. When Kelbim arrives, drawn by the energy at the initial test site, it quickly heads to where the next D4 weapon is, and the Director brings down the orders from on high to use only King Joe STORAGE Custom and make use of D4, even as more Kelbim descend from the sky and hatch. It's pretty obvious what has happened to the Director, but it's not outright shown. In defiance of orders, Hebikura dispatched Haruki in Windom, but even as they take out one another spawns, and Z is forced to come out. As they continue more appear and Yuka detects the Mother Kelbim in space. Z Delta Rise Claw goes to face it, but even as it wins the numbers become to much and Yoko is forced, out of desperation, to use D4. The attack does take out the Kelbim, but the dimensional collapse keeps spreading, only being stopped by Z. Hebikura makes clear he is angry about all of this, and Yuki Mai seems to have ideas about Ultraman's power. But the big this this time is, as every single member of STORAGE, the entire maintenance team lead by Bako, Yuka, Yoko, Haruki and Hebikura defies GAFJ orders, and the entire unit is being dissolved.

Ultra 6 Brothers The Live: I laid actual money to watch this, since it seems to tie into The Absolute Conspiracy. After Nice warms the crowd up, the story introduces us to Baltan Seijin Baruru, a child alone on a world save for his robot friend. Baruru seems to remember his grandfather, but that's it. One day Red King, Hellberus, Astromons and Giestron rampage, and Man, Seven, Zoffy, Hikari and 80 arrive to stop them. Afterwards the brother discuss why the Kaiju are acting out before all but Ultraman leave. He meets Baruru and befriends him before leaving, asking the robot to look out for him, and after it's gone Baruru and the robot plan to plant a flower, when a gang of Valkie Seijin, Magma Seijin and Zarab Seijin arrive, and start beating up Baruru, calling Hellberus back to assist. The Robot, inspired by Ultraman's words, fights back and does a decent job until losing power, but as more Kaiju come the day is saved by the arrival of the Ultra 6 Brothers. Zoffy fights Zarab, Man fights Red King, Seven fights Valkie, Jack takes Giestron, Ace battles Hellberus, Taro deals with Magma. After the brothers win, they save the Robot and leave, Baruru and his companion continue their journey, but in the end Baruru walks away from the robot, which continues the other way with the flower. Absolute Tartarus appears, commenting on a power. After an intermission the plot moves forward, and to an earth in 2020, where Bemstar and Telesdon come down from the sky, and the narrator explains the Devil Splinters, this is followed by Z Alpha Edge's stock footage, the Rise accompanied with a new one for Zero. Zero and Z Alpha Edge face the two Kaiju, then discuss about the Devil Splinters when an effect devices the Kaiju. Zero defeats Bemstar only for Tartarus, who Zero is aware of, to appear and revive Bemstar, and reveal his servant, the adult Baruru, who created the system reviving the Kaiju. Zero and Z are overpowered until Ultraman and Seven arrive and help defeat them. Ultraman recognises Baruru, and Baruru remembers him, Tartarus arrives and explains their plans. Ultraman asks him to stop but he lashes out, and uses the system to revive Zetton and EX Zetton, which overpower the Ultras, before taking them aside and fusing their genes with himself to become a Zetton Baltan Seijin (variants previously appeared in Orb stages, one being a Dark Ring fusion), and join the Zettons in their battle. While the other Zettons take Seven and Zero offstage, Man and Z fight Baruru. Nice comes onstage to guide some audience interaction to power up the heroes here, which brings Seven and Zero back, and the rest of the Ultra 6 Brothers. After a moment where Man and Baruru wordlessly reflect on their past, Nice somehow finds himself faced with Tartarus, who trounces him before the Brothers minus Man pull him away, they then defeat the Zettons. Zero and Z face Tartarus until he decides to leave, but Z pursues. Ultraman and Baruru fight, although really it's just Man trying to remind Baruru of his true self, Baruru wakes up and returns to normal, but Zetton Baltan Seijin still exists on its own, now mindless and Ultraman is injured taking a hit. Zoffy, Ace and Seven take care if it long enough for Baruru to revive Man using his device, and he destroys Zetton Baltan Seijin. Tartarus murders Baruru and calls on Tyrant, which already mostly defeated Jack and Taro, and Man, Zero and Z struggle with, until Nice leads the audience again. Together the Brothers Zero and Z defeat Tyrant. The dying Baruru is shocked by the robots return. Ultraman informs him they're on earth. The robot uses the system to save Baruru, and presents the healthy plant. After sharing some parting words Baruru and his friend leave. The assembled Ultras thank the audience and leave some last words. All in all good, but about as important as those Ultraman Festival Stages or the Final Stages. Also this is pretty clearly pre-Z so I don't know why they didn't just have Z in his initial state.

The Absolute Conspiracy: The highly anticipated event begins. New Generation Heroes was a prequel to Taiga, and featured the first live action appearance of a character previously only seen in a Pachinko machine. Similarly, The Absolute Conspiracy is a prequel to Z and features several characters previously only seen in the Ultraman Festival Stages. There are differences too though. The central villain here is, to my knowledge, wholly original, and while New Generation Heroes was a a single narrative from start to finish, this is a story in 3 "parts", and while New Generation Heroes focused on only the New Generation Heroes, as well as the two most direct mentors to that group, and an Ultra who debuted in the era but is not considered part of the group, here we have quite a diverse group. So we start here in Part 1, starting Ultraman Ribut. In the M78 timeline this would appear to be set sometime in the 1000s of years gap between Mebius and Ultra Galaxy. Cool to see there's a proper OP this time, evidently going to switch up for each part. After our brief appearance by Absolute Tartarus our focus moves to young recruit Ribut, who is working alongside Civilisation Guard Max (original VA), who is one of a number of M78 Ultras who was originally believed to be from his series' universe version of the Land of Light, but since the Zero movies we now know them to be from the main M78 universe, and traveled from there to the timeline of his series. The planet is having it's energy drained by a Maga-Orochi egg, the existence of which is concerning due to the Maga-Orochi being sealed on Orb's earth....by a group of Ultras that included Zero....this might be later in the timeline than I thought. Hellberus might be an indicator Tregear is behind what's going on, he has interfered with several other New Generation Kaiju, but Sran Seijin is the only mastermind we have at the moment. Gudis Cells are infecting Max now, and I presume they want the Maga-Orochi to evolve into something more. We go to Planet Kanon. This is before the event of The Origin Saga, as the Tree of Life is still standing. The present War God, Queen Izana, is also part of the Galaxy Rescue Force, which seems to draw from an old idea from the 70s of a Galactic Federation that Tsuburaya's heroes were all part of, in this instance though the alliance is multiversal. Anyway here we have Sora, making her first appearance outside of stages, she started out as one of the generic Ultras, but now have that armour to stand out. She's accompanying Yullian (new VA) princess of the Land of Light, who is wearing a mantle here for the first time. Leucocyte attacks, which may further point to Tregear, and 80 (original actor) appears to help, until Leucocyte flees. The 80 sequence heavily reminds me of the Ace and Leo Brothers sequences in Ultra Fight Victory, giving the classic Ultra a strong showing before the newer hero takes centre stage. Ribut reports what happened to Zoffy, Taro and Hikari (all have their longstanding VAs) when the other 3 arrive with their own report, giving them a lot to deal with, and establishes the history of Ribut and Sora. They have to create an antibody to Gudis' cells in 3 days or Max is lost, and Ribut is sent to train on K76, where he meets for some intense training Great (New VA) and Powered (Kai's actor Kane Kosugi in English, Kai's dub VA in Japanese).

Saber: Tassel on the phone to somebody, interesting. I've gotten over my issue with Touma's memory from last time, knowing he was friends with Kento and finding Kento was in the memories that seemed to be dreams are different things. It's only natural that Kento is confused, and he decides getting Kamijo to tell him everything is the only option. Apparently the 6 swordsmen being present is reason for Legeiel to step up Megiddo plans using Goblins. Kento and Rintaro argue before the activity starts, Sophia gives Mei a key and heads out, leaving Northern Base to her. Kenzan goes to face one Megiddo, while Buster's mission to face another is interrupted by Desast. Rintaro and Kento argue about duty to Sword of Logos when Kento is called by Reika to where Sophia is confronting Caliber. Saber arrives at another Goblin. Sophia is trying to get explanations from Kamijo when Kento and Rintaro appears. Kento asks if the worst possible scenario is true before confronting Kamijo, Espada and Kamijo clash, Slash joins Saber and lends Bremen no Rock Band, when Zooous arrives to face Slash. Caliber claims he cut down Hayato for being a traitor, while calling himself a seeker of truth, Espada uses Golden Alangina and pushes Blades out the way. Kento gets a good hit in, and Caliber decides to use Jaou Dragon, becoming Caliber Jaou Dragon. While they fight Sophia suddenly vanishes. Mei uses the key an unlocks the screen, and Saber uses Dragon Bremen to defeat his Goblin as Kenzan does the same. Unfortunately, this is exactly what Legeiel, Zooous and Desast wanted, opening gates of Fire and Wind. Caliber overpowers Espada on the end, and tries to make the killing blow, but Blades takes it, and Rintaro is in critical condition. I think Kento's probably going to act less rashly now. Tassel has a guest, and I have an idea who. I might be wrong.

Kenshin Retsuden: This time we have an episode of Kenzan, listed as being "another side" of episode 9. Ogami and Ren are both looking for Caliber when Ogami realises Sophia is about to do something reckless. Desast, who is looking for Caliber to reclaim his book, confronts Ren and mocks him on the nature of ultimate power, Ren showing some serious might makes right thoughts, before leaving, thinking something about him afterwards about Ren's nature. Ogami saves Sophia as in the episode, but afterwards Sophia comments that Kento will be hurt regardless of who Caliber is, opening Ogami's eyes to the possibility of someone else behind the mask.

Kiramager: Whatever it is the guy wants to say to Sayo, he's clearly nervous. Sayo has gone into the dinner with certain expectations, but isn't sure how she feels quite yet. The team tries to let her keep the evening for her date. While the team is busy, she really wants to hear it at least. Garza's plan is to unleash multiple Jamenju, which Riddle Kamen is making plenty of energy for. As for Sayo, it's not like she doesn't like the dude, but she won't know until he says it, but I like how everyone is just desperate to know more. Sayo solves the riddle but doesn't tell the others what it is. Garza is bending Hakobu to his will. While it appears what Kusaka had in mind was something different, Sayo gets straight in to helping him. I am a little disappointed that we're having a marriage would mean quitting being a ranger plot for a female in fucking 2020, but that doesn't matter because turns out, surprise, Kusaka was working with Yodonna. Garza is off to eliminate Oradin. Sayo still protects him, but any chance of anything more is done for, but she still entrusts him with warning CARAT. To be fair about the marriage plot, Sayo herself had every intention of making it work, and there is the whole surgeon thing giving it more justification here than in other plots. I like how we have this goofy scene of Juru making Riddle Jamen answer a riddle of his own interspersed with the fairly serious drama of the Sayo plot. Garza has arrived in Atamald, the plant is sprouting, and 3 Jamenju arrive.

#toku explained #ultraman z #ultra galaxy fight #kamen rider saber #mashin sentai kirameiger

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blancheludis · 5 years ago

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Tagging: @tokky231

Fandom: Marvel, Avengers Characters: Tony Stark/Steve Rogers, James Rhodes, Pepper Potts, Bruce Barton, Steve Rogers Chapters: 30/?, Words: 166.584

Summary: Tony meets his soulmate under the worst possible circumstances. It is not just a kidnapping gone wrong. It turns out Steve and his gang picked him on purpose and they want some personal revenge. If only he had managed to say the words written on his soulmate’s arm before they threw him back out into the streets.

—

They have a table in the back of the restaurant where fewer people can watch them. With everything that is happening at Stark Industries, the press is hounding Tony more than ever. If he had not thought that a public setting would help Steve and him relax, he would not have ventured out of the tower at all. Being in an open space where someone could be listening in does wonders to one’s countenance, and while Tony does not think they are going to start an outright argument during dinner, it is better to be prepared.

Also, Rhodey would not have stopped hovering had they stayed in the penthouse. He might have even found an excuse to call Pepper up, and then they would not have had an opportunity to talk at all.

Tony knows the owner of the restaurant. They should be safe here. The rest is up to them. That does not make him any less nervous.

The first moment of confusion happened right in front of the restaurant when they both tried to let the other go through the door first. That just worsened the awkward tension between them.

Now they are seated, neither of them ordered any alcohol to go with dinner, and are waiting for their food while working through a conversation.

Steve is talking about some exhibition at the MoMA, which Tony finds interesting right up to the point where he realizes that, at some point during this entire mess of Tony’s life falling apart, Steve took the time to go to a museum. It might have been before they snatched Tony off the street, of course. He is not petty enough to ask, but it does leave a bitter taste in his mouth while he listens.

On unspoken agreement, they have decided to leave all discussion about their future for later, at least until after the main course. Tony is already not very hungry, but the food here deserves some consideration at least.

“Why didn’t you become an artist?” Tony asks when Steve begins to trail off, obviously fishing for something else to say. Up until now, Tony has not made it easy on him. Keeping a conversation alive when one party mostly just listens passively is always hard.

And Tony wants to make to most of this evening. He has Bruce and Thor’s story in his head, who first got to know each other before they made any kind of decision. Playing the long game might be a bit too much for him, but that does not mean he needs to brush Steve off either.

“I tried,” Steve says, a hint of red creeping up his neck that Tony sees even in the dim restaurant lights. “Turns out nobody wants to give an artist without a degree any work that’s enough to pay the bills. And I didn’t have the money for college.”

He looks as if he expects Tony to laugh at him. Money has never been a problem for Tony. People have described him as over-indulgent and wasteful. He has too many fast cars. Every house of his that he has spent longer than a week in has a state-of-the-art lab. He always looks meticulous when stepping out the door. And he used to throw the wildest parties, no expenses spared.

The thing is, Tony needs money to fund his projects, and life is so much easier when he does not have to count bills. He likes to think that he could do without all those zeroes in his bank account. But he never had to try, so he can hardly offer his perspective on Steve’s situation.

“So you enlisted to get the Army help with tuition?” Tony asks, careful to keep his tone neutral.

He does not think less of Steve because he did not grow up with money – he has real reasons for the distrust between them - but he realizes that any reaction of his could be seen as unfavourable.

Steve hums in response and picks at his pasta. “Didn’t work out too well.”

“Why?”

It looks like Steve would prefer to change the topic, but this is important. At some point, he decided to stop being an artist and found a mob instead. If they want to go anywhere from here, Tony needs to know whether Steve has just been waiting for an opportunity to abandon the boring day-life as an artist – or anything else really that does not involve crime. In his opinion, people do not just go from painting pictures to chasing criminals instead.

“I started college,” Steve says but trails off, staring at his plate until he drags his eyes up. His lips twist into something too bitter to be a smile. “Bucky did not do well after we came home from our last tour.”

The way Tony sees it, Barnes is not doing so well now either, but he wisely does not say that out loud. He does not need to start another argument right now.

“So you gave up your chance to study art for him,” Tony says, nods his understanding. If needed, he would do a lot more than that for Rhodey. If Rhodey had not been so adamant that Stark Industries is Tony’s, Tony might have never followed Obadiah’s call back.

“Yes,” Steve answers simply and waits. He must see the thoughts racing in Tony’s face.

And Tony, fork hovering in the air over his plate, looks at Steve. “Just like you betrayed your alleged morals when you let him and Barton beat me up in the hopes of him getting some peace of mind back.”

This time, Steve hesitates for a moment, his expression utterly defeated, but he does not deny it. “Yes.”

Tony exhales slowly. He is not sure he is allowed to be upset when Steve is being honest with him. “Did he at least feel better?” Tony asks with some urgency, unsure why it is important. That does not make his ribs heal faster or softens his memories. “Before he knew I wasn’t the one he wanted?”

They both know the answer. It is written all over Steve’s face, just like Tony could read it in the crooked letters of Barnes’ postcard.

“No.”

It does not feel like a relief but a knot loosens in Tony’s chest. He will not ask about Barton since he is sure the answer will not be in his favour.

“Great,” he sighs, resolutely tucking his fork back into his food. “Glad we could clear that up.”

Across from him, Steve does not move but keeps watching him with that careful expression, almost waiting for judgement.

“I’m sorry, Tony,” Steve says, sounding dejected in a way that just spikes Tony’s irritation.

“That’s not where I was going with that,” he says, more harshly than intended.

Apologies will not get them anywhere. They are already beyond words, and Steve’s face says it all. Looking back, the sheer panic and fear that Tony felt through the bond in the warehouse told their own story too. This is not just about being sorry and making up for their mistakes anymore. Somehow, they have gotten invested in each other. The mere thought is scary.

“I still am,” Steve says and, this time, Tony just accepts it with a nod of his head.

They both have a cluster of one-sided information about each other, painting them as villains. It will not be easy to pick out the good parts in between all of that. To see the person beneath all of that.

For a few minutes, they eat in silence, while Tony is second-guessing his reason for being here. He sneaks in glances at Steve and pretends not to notice when Steve does the same. Going out with someone has not felt this awkward in years. Usually, he knows very well what he wants and what the other person wants from him. With Steve, he is at a complete loss. It is not even a battle between head and heart anymore. His feelings are all over the place and he cannot begin to make sense of them.

“Your USB drive,” Steve speaks up when the silence becomes too much. “There were a lot of great ideas on there. A lot of things that weren’t weapons either. Why didn’t you pursue them?”

“Because my board of directors said no.” Tony laughs, still bitter about the fact that Obadiah held his entire life in hands with no intention of giving him any leeway. “My name might be on the side of the building but I can’t just make all the decisions on my own.”

His problems from before appear insignificant compared to the mess of dealing with his godfather. How often has he heard the word no and countless of reasons why his ideas were not feasible? He knew he could have done it and made them all richer in the process as well as doing something good for the world. If only he had not listened to Obadiah.

“You shut down the weapon manufacturing,” Steve remarks, appearing genuinely curious about why he could do that but not market one of the many projects he has already planned out.

Tony takes a bite of his food and chews it slowly, giving himself some time to answer. “And that’s a giant clusterfuck we’re not even close yet to figuring out,” he finally says. He managed to anger just about every investor and contractor they have, which makes rising up out of their own ashes unsurprisingly difficult. “Not without firing people, which I absolutely refuse to do. They’re not at fault that Obie abused the company as his personal piggy bank.”

Right now, his board is just interested in saving their own hides. Now that Obadiah is gone, Tony will have to watch them closely anyway. Everybody who knew what was happening or even aided with the dealing will have to go. Without Pepper, Stark Industries would already be nothing more than a rotten wreck, completely unsalvageable.

“But why go into weapon design in the first place?” Steve asks, still without accusation, although Tony feels like there should be some. All of this could have been avoided if Tony was not such a pushover. “You studied robotic engineering, right?”

How careless his MIT time had been, how happy. At least until Howard died and Tony went completely off the rails.

“Amongst other things, yes,” he answers, keeping his tone even. “My Dad never approved. After he died, I wasn’t going to touch the company at all. Obie got me back into the fold.” He shrugs as if the mere mention of his godfather has him not wanting to curl up and hide from the world – and to check his hands for the blood he washed off but will never be able to unsee. “At that point, it was easier to just do what he thought best. I didn’t want to lose anybody else.”

More than that, he did not care. Stark Industries still was mostly his father’s company then. Obadiah first asked for a few designs, then for some appearances where the press could see them. He did not just come out and ask Tony to come back but pulled him slowly back in until Tony was so entangled with the company again that there was nothing else to do but make it official.

In one way or another, Tony has always allowed himself to be a pawn of other people. He is done with that. Done with letting anyone else decide where he is going and what he is doing.

Silence engulfs them as they finish their meals. Sooner than Tony would like, his plate is empty. With exaggerated care, he puts down his cutlery and takes a sip of water. Only when he is done does he look up at Steve.

Compared to the past weeks, the bond has calmed down. It is vibrating with worry, but nothing so loud that he cannot concentrate on his own thoughts. Making sense of those thoughts is a completely different problem, however. Every time their eyes meet, it gets worse.

“What’s going on, Tony?” Steve asks, his expression tighter than it has been all evening.

And Tony gulps around the sudden tightness in his throat. He wants to look away but he owes it to Steve to not hide from this. “I’m not sure this is going to work.”

He watches Steve’s eyes narrow in confusion before they are blown wide. “What?” he asks, voice raspy. “Us?” Then he shrugs, bashful more than dejected. “I didn’t think it was an option.”

That is not the complete truth. Tony knows that even without the bond flashing warnings at him. Steve wants more. As it appears, he has at least learned to recognize reality for what it is, though.

“It’s not. Not like this. But you –” Tony interrupts himself, searching for the right words. He did not ask Steve here just to put him down but to find out what is best for them. “You’re not a completely bad guy. And I thought the intensity of the soul bond would lessen, but –” He trails off, certain that Steve is as aware as he is of the constant burning of their arms and twisting of their emotions.

“It doesn’t. I thought that was just me,” Steve says, nodding as he glances down at his arm. Almost as an afterthought, he adds, “There is medication for that.”

The words wash over Tony like a bucket of ice water has been upended over his head. It appears like Steve has been one step ahead of him all this time, already looking for ways out. He is sure that should not make him feel as irritated as it does.

“I’m not going to take drugs because my tattoo is tingling.” Tony snaps. The medication has side effects, which is partly wanted because rejecting one’s soulmate is not the natural course of things. He cannot afford to take anything that slows down his thinking.

A much smaller part of Tony is also aware that, all of a sudden, Steve is so willing to give up. It would make things easier on the both of them if they did not fight each other, but all this time Steve refused to leave and now he wants to take the easy way out?

“It’s more than that, though. At least to me,” Steve says, putting his hand over where Tony’s words sit on his arm. “Perhaps it needs more time.”

Of course, it is more than tingling. It is an invasion of their thoughts and emotions. It is a pull towards another person they do not really know, who might not good for them.

“Perhaps,” Tony echoes tonelessly. Bruce told him the sensation would fade. They can deal with this for a few months, surely.

His tone must have been off enough for Steve to perk up, watching him with new interest. Almost as if he knows that Tony is not as glad for that simple solution to get rid of Steve as he pretends to be.

“But?” he asks, waiting patiently for Tony to get his footing.

Tony should just shrug it off and tell Steve there are no buts. That might be better for everybody involved. He does not like giving up, though. At some point over the past weeks, he has gone from being afraid of Steve to seeing him as an ally to clinging to him when he was emotionally vulnerable. Things are not as simple anymore as saying that Steve wronged him and now they are doomed forever.

“You helped me with Obie,” Tony says slowly, measuring each of the words. “You saved my life.”

He stops speaking abruptly when he notices that Steve’s face has closed off completely.

“So you asked me to dinner because you think you owe me?” Steve asks, sounding offended. He is leaning slightly away from Tony as if he needs to distance himself from the very idea.

Within a span of seconds, everything has gone wrong again. Tony should have kept his mouth shut and agreed that the pills would solve their problem just fine. Instead, they are facing off again, and he has somehow offended Steve by trying to say his opinion of him has changed.

“No,” Tony replies dryly, not bothering to hide the bitterness in his tone. “Ask anyone, I’m the selfish type.”

Steve winces but it is too late. “You’re not –” he tries to say, but Tony shakes his head.

He does not even know anymore what they are doing here. Are they trying to work something out how they can stay in each other’s lives? Or are they looking for the best way out?

“Stop that,” he says, colder than he intended. “You don’t know me. I don’t know you. That’s the thing. All we know is the negative things.”

The weapons and the kidnapping and the stubbornness. Neither of them will come out of this smelling like roses.

“I know –”

“Let me make my point,” Tony snaps, cutting Steve off again. “You’re not responsible for Barnes and Barton beating me up. Yes, they might not have done it if you hadn’t given your okay, but it’s equally likely that they would have. Just later. Also, then I might have never found out about Stane selling my weapons.” He takes a shuddering breath, trying to sort through his thoughts. “I’m not saying I’m okay with what happened. You’re still a mob boss, and I’m not going to let you drag me into that, but maybe we should –”

“No,” Steve says suddenly and Tony falls silent immediately, caught off guard by the vehemence in Steve’s voice. “I can’t give up the Avengers.”

Tony’s expression tightens, even while he exhales with some relief. This is it then. His solution served to him on a silver platter.

He is not afraid of the Avengers anymore, although he would not want to be left alone with Barton. They are efficient and they may have done some good in the world. He has just learned that good intentions do not weigh out bad results. For years, Tony has built weapons, and while he knew they were used to hurt and kill people, he was convinced he was doing it for the good of his country, his people. Instead, they had just taken lives on all sides. Good or bad do not matter in that equation.

He does not see much of a difference where the Avengers are concerned. They have made themselves into weapons and they have hurt innocents just like Tony did. Perhaps just as unwittingly but it happened. If they are not going to change anything, if Steve is not even willing to take a step back and think about what happened, they are done.

“That makes it really easy then,” Tony says, slipping into a formal tone. Years of practice allow him to hide his feelings, although he is certain the burning through the soul bond betray that he is upset. “Thank you for meeting me. I wish you a good life.”

He is already in the process of getting up when Steve reaches out to him. His hand falls short of actually touching Tony, but it makes him stay where he is anyway. He is not going to ignore the plea written all over Steve’s face. Not while he is yearning for another kind of resolution of this himself.

“Tony.” Steve’s lips form Tony’s name with more care than he is used to, like it is something precious. “You can’t make me choose.”

The Avengers as they are now is not something Tony can allow into his life. Not while he is still caught in this mess.

“That’s exactly what I’m doing,” Tony says, although he just wanted Steve to consider changing things. “I know you think you’re fighting the good fight, that it doesn’t matter that you’re hurting people as long as they’re the bad guys, whatever that means. But it’s not okay. You’re no better than them.”

He takes no satisfaction when Steve flinches, looking at him with wide eyes.

“That’s not true.”

That denial just there is why they will have a problem with each other. Tony might not be responsible for what Obadiah did, but he feels like it. He feels responsible for every misplaced bullet, every wound, every death. Steve, on the other hand, is too practised at pushing all blame away and marching forward no matter what happens.

“Tell me, Steve,” Tony says, leaning forward. He wants to get this over with. “You have a Stark gun, right? Yet, no gun is registered in your name. Where did you get it? Did you steal it? Did you buy it on the black market, meaning you aided the very shady business you hated me for?” He shakes his head, openly showing his disappointment. “Your morality doesn’t add up. You’re not even in the grey area anymore, you’re just changing what’s right and what’s wrong based on what you currently need.”

His arm is burning, and Tony is not even sure anymore whether that comes from Steve or whether his own anger is taking over. It was ridiculous to think that they could just sit down and talk things through. That they could come to some kind of solution in one evening, talking about art and ignoring the bigger issues looming over them.

Steve is staring down at the table, biting his lip so hard that Tony expects to see blood any second now. When it becomes obvious that he is not going to say anything, Tony clears his throat and waits until Steve looks up.

“I don’t think you’re a bad guy, Steve,” he says, making his voice as gentle as he dares without making it seem like he is taking back what he said before. "But I’m not going to be your friend, much less anything more while you’re running a mob.”

A noise breaks out of Steve that is half laughter and half frustrated groan. He looks more alive than he did during the entirety of dinner, although in a non-flattering way.

“So what,” Steve asks, the words as clear as they are ugly, “you want me to abandon my friends on the off chance that you’ll stick around?”

That is the crux, Tony can admit that. He knows he will not start anything with Steve while he goes around doing his shady business. At the same time, he is not sure he can guarantee more even if Steve agreed to change. Everything is messed up and tangled inside his head. More than anything, they need to get to know each other, but that is not going to happen while Steve is someone Tony does not want to know.

“You don’t have to stop being friends,” Tony argues, knowing how uncompromising he sounds. “I would obviously prefer if the Avengers got some official, legal work, but you’re my soulmate, not any of them.”

He sees they are getting nowhere, not while they are both upset and lost.

“I don’t –” Steve tries to say, but Tony cuts him off.

“Go home, Steve,” he says, softening his expression and tone. “I don’t expect you to make a decision right here, but those are my terms. If you want me in your life, in whatever capacity we’d manage with time, you can’t have the Avengers in tow.”

Looking at Steve, he does not see any admission there, anything but the chaos of grief and howling sense of injustice echoed by the bond.

“I know what my answer will be,” Steve says, voice as tight as his face, withdrawing further from Tony with every breath.

Tony smiles. He can see that this throws Steve, but he simply nods. “Well, at least you’re dedicated.”

That is not a consolation. He knows the Avengers are important to Steve. He knows what he is asking.

He gets to his feet and reaches for a jacket, letting his eyes roam over Steve again. This might be the last opportunity he has.

“Tony –” Steve tries but trails off, sounding helpless even while he is unwilling to concede his point.

“Good night, Steve,” Tony says, wondering whether the tightness in his chest comes from the bond or whether that rejection is real. “You have my number if something important comes up.”

He is not even sure what he means with that. Is he going to wait for Steve to change his mind? Does he offer his assistance if Steve is ever in danger?

His thoughts are going too fast, fighting against the panicked current of emotions filtering through the bond, to make sense of it. With a last look at Steve, taking in his dejection and the way his shoulders slump, Tony leaves. Head held high and steps measured, he walks out of the restaurant, pushing some bills into a clueless waiter’s hands. All the way to the door, he can feel Steve’s eyes in his back, like a weight settling on him.

It is impossible to say whether he has just made the right decision. Cutting Steve out of his life is certainly not a bad thing, considering their history. He left him a backdoor, though. More than that, really.

It is perhaps unfair to ask Steve to give up the team he built without making concessions that things will work out with Tony if he does. Especially after said team saved his life. That is the best he can do, however. He sees the mistakes he made and he is striving to do better. Is it not his right to ask Steve to do the same?

#stony #slow burn #fanfiction #marvel #mob boss #soulmates #au #emotional angst #hurt/comfort #steve rogers #tony stark #romance #in a way #my writing #ao3 #leave the gun on the table

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giveamadeuschohisownmovie · 5 years ago

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Hypothetical plot outline for season 1 of Hulu’s Ghost Rider series

Before we start, here is our main cast:

1) Gabriel Luna as Robbie Reyes / Ghost Rider

2) Lorenzo James Henrie as Gabe Reyes, Robbie’s younger brother

3) Jose Zuniga as Eli Morrow, Robbie’s uncle and the main antagonist of the season

4) Jessica Parker Kennedy as Lisa Gardner, a detective and Robbie’s main love interest (at least as of season 1)

5) Derek Mio as Kenshiro “Zero” Cochrane, a hacker who befriends Robbie and eventually becomes his go-to tech guy (the “Cisco Ramon” of the show)

6) Josh Segarra as Hamilton Slade, a college professor who is dating Lisa Gardner, thinks Ghost Rider is a menace

7) Becky G as Alejandra Jones / All-New Ghost Rider, a woman whose soul becomes bonded to Eli’s after making a deal with him

8) Malese Jow as Sister Sara Yang / The Caretaker, a warrior nun who reluctantly joins forces with Robbie in order to battle the supernatural

Now, the episodes. Since this is the first season and Marvel might consider costs in making the series, I thought that 10 episodes would be a reasonable amount.

Episode 1: Still Angry

* A plot: Introduction to all the main characters. Robbie is a loner who helps a local church during the day and goes out as Ghost Rider at night. The opening scene is of Robbie destroying a local gang. Gabe Reyes is going to a nearby college, which is the real reason why Robbie moved to Texas. Lisa and Hamilton also volunteer at Robbie’s church, which is how Robbie develops a crush on her, despite her being in a relationship. Hamilton is friendly to Robbie but you can also tells he’s the “jealous / possessive boyfriend” type.

* B plot: Sister Sara Yang, also known as “The Caretaker”, arrives in Texas with the mission to capture the Ghost Rider for the Catholic Church. She recruits Rising Tide hacktavist Kenshiro “Zero” Cochrane by blackmailing him (“if you don’t help me, I’ll report all your cybercrimes”).

* C plot: Alejandra Jones is trying to cross the border from Mexico to the USA in order to find her long-lost father. In the episode stinger, we learn that she’s being stalked by a ghost, who we’ll learn later on is Eli Morrow.

* The climax of the episode is Sister Sara confronting the Ghost Rider. The two fight and Robbie easily defeats her. Instead of killing her, Robbie spares her when he realizes she’s not evil. Sara asks why and Robbie just tells her to leave and never come back.

Episode 2: A Good Man

* A plot: Robbie tries to go back to his normal routine but is confronted by Sister Sara and Kenshiro. Gabe, who is fully aware of his brother’s nightly activities, tries to convince them that Robbie is a good man but Sara is unconvinced. Sara says Robbie needs to prove to her that he’s a good man or else he will have to come back with her to the Vatican City. Robbie proves he’s on her side by taking down a gang of human traffickers and saving all the people they captured. All the people who Robbie saved bless him, calling him an “angel of vengeance”. Sara and Kenshiro leave, with Sara’s faith shaken and unsure of continuing her mission.

* B plot: Lisa and Hamilton go on a date where they discuss the Ghost Rider. Hamilton hates the man but Lisa thinks he’s a hero. Lisa tries to pry into Hamilton’s past and he tells her bits and pieces but stops short of going into his “family legacy”. Curious, Lisa asks and Hamilton rudely tells her to “stop digging”.

* C plot: Alejandra tries crossing the border but the cartel suspect her of wrongdoing (she was framed by another person). The cartel kill her on the spot, leading to her making a deal with Eli Morrow. Episode ends with her becoming the second Ghost Rider.

Episode 3: The Other Rider

* A plot: While patrolling one night, Robbie hears about a horrifying incident on the other side of the border. A Ghost Rider-like monster led a massacre of a cartel, leaving barely any survivors. As he investigates, he comes across Lisa, who is also on patrol that night, and Sara, who was investigating on her own. Survivors of the cartel attack the three of them, with the cartel shooters wanting payback. Robbie, Sara, and Lisa fight them off and Robbie drives all of them away to safety. Robbie drops Lisa back at the police station and drives away with Sara. Robbie tells Sara he wasn’t responsible for the massacre and Sara believes him.

* B plot: Gabe is at college, where he meets Kenshiro. They mostly have a humorous subplot, with Kenshiro trying to befriend Gabe since he has no friends in the area and that Sister Sara told him to get close to the Ghost Rider’s family. We learn more about Kenshiro and Gabe’s backstories. We also learn that Hamilton Slade is one of Gabe’s professors but is unaware that Gabe’s brother is the Ghost Rider.

* C plot: Alejandra wakes up in the middle of the road, not sure of what she did. Her plot is mostly just learning that she’s now bonded to the soul of Eli Morrow and that he has some control over her. She gets into a fight with some truckers and accidentally kills them due to Eli’s influence.

Episode 4: The Big Man from Down Below

* A plot: This episode is mainly backstory. Robbie and Sara make it back to Robbie’s church, where they discuss last night’s events. As they come up with a plan to track down the second Ghost Rider, we go into some flashbacks which explains what Robbie has been doing since AOS season 4 without actually referencing AOS. Flashbacks include him taking the Darkhold to some unknown hell dimension, a fight scene with some gang that he wipes out, dealing with his dark legacy, and meeting Mephisto for the first time (who says Robbie’s soul is damned). At the end of the episode, Robbie and Sara decide to officially team up since they have the same goal of catching this other Ghost Rider. With Gabe and Kenshiro, the four of them form “Team Ghost Rider”.

* B plot: Similar to Robbie’s plot this episode, we go into Eli Morrow’s backstory. Alejandra learns, from Eli, that he was turned into a Spirit of Vengeance by Mephisto. When Alejandra asks why, Eli chooses not to tell her. We learn that all Spirits of Vengeance have similar stories to his, implying that Robbie’s Spirit of Vengeance became that way because of a deal with Mephisto. We see Alejandra become the All-New Ghost Rider at the end of the episode and she steals someone’s motorcycle.

* C plot: Lisa tries to explain to her superiors what happened last night. Her superiors tell her that Ghost Rider killed a bunch of people on the other side of the border but she’s convinced that Robbie wasn’t responsible. Hamilton also tries to tell her she’s wrong, leading to their first fight.

* End episode stinger: Alejandra/Eli opens up a portal to an unknown dimension and a group of demons come out. Alejandra/Eli says, “Welcome to Earth”, ending the episode.

Episode 5: Hell Hath No Fury

* Main plot: Robbie, Sara, Kenshiro, and Gabe start investigating the second Ghost Rider while also trying to dodge Lisa, who tells them that GR is wanted for the massacre. She’s part of the investigation but it’s clear she thinks GR is innocent. The investigation leads them to a survivor, who Robbie tracks down. The survivor, who turns out to be the person who framed Alejandra and got her killed, says that Alejandra was murdered by the cartel, then the Ghost Rider showed up and killed everyone. The team finds out that Alejandra’s body was not among the dead. Sensing the dark aura in the area, Robbie puts the pieces together and realizes Alejandra made a deal with the devil. When Sara asks how does he know, he gives her a look that says that his situation was similar. He also points out that the attack happened immediately after Alejandra made that deal, as if the devil was waiting for her.

* Main plot (continued): After interrogating the survivor, Team Ghost Rider is confronted by the All-New Ghost Rider. Alejandra Jones, fully under Eli Morrow’s control, says that she needs to speak with Robbie. Robbie and Alejandra/Eli battle it out for the first time but the fight between the two Ghost Riders leads to a stalemate, even with Sara, Gabe, and Kenshiro’s help. Lisa and the rest of the police arrive, leading to a shootout between them and Alejandra/Eli. Alejandra/Eli kills most of the police force but Robbie is able to save Lisa in time. He creates a portal and takes Lisa away from the scene, but Alejandra-Eli orders her demon henchmen to go after them. Episode ends on that cliffhanger.

* Subplot: Hamilton Slade finishes up a class and we see him in his private study. As he looks through his photo albums, he comes across a picture of a burial site. Immediately, he shuts the book away, disturbed by the memory. We get a flashback to the moment when the photograph was taken and it’s revealed that Hamilton found the burial site of his ancestor, Lincoln Slade, who was a predecessor of the Ghost Rider.

Episode 6: Like a Woman Scorned

* A plot: Picking up right after the previous episode, Robbie and Lisa emerge on the other side of the portal. It’s revealed that Robbie took them back to his scrapyard in Los Angeles. Although Robbie tries to hide his identity, he realizes he needs Lisa to trust him and turns back to his normal self. Lisa is surprised to find out Robbie is the Ghost Rider and says he should’ve just told her. As they talk, Alejandra/Eli opens up a portal outside the scrapyard. One of the main demons, nicknamed Hive Mind, has mind control powers and takes control of several L.A. citizens to form an army. Robbie and Lisa fight the mind-controlled army but are hesitant to actually kill anyone. Eventually, the fight comes down to Robbie and Alejandra/Eli and her minions. Lisa leaves, with Robbie telling her to find “Father Reyes”. Alone, Robbie puts up a good fight but is overwhelmed and defeated. Before Robbie passes out, Eli (through Alejandra) reveals himself and says that he’s gonna finish what he started.

* B plot: Sara, Gabe, and Kenshiro are battling Alejandra’s demon henchmen (the ones who didn’t cross over to Los Angeles). During this battle, we get backstory on Sara. It’s revealed Sara was once a normal nun who had an interest in the supernatural. One night, she fends off an attack by a vampire, partly due to her studying on how vampires worked. Impressed by this, the church offers her a place in their top-secret division dedicated to hunting supernatural monsters. Also during this fight, Hamilton Slade, who is driving at this time, accidentally gets involved when a demon attacks his car. Kenshiro rescues him, thus bringing Slade into their group.

* Side note: For the B plot, Gabe starts reflecting on Alejandra Jones. From what he knows about her, he says that he’s sad that she was killed by the cartel and was turned into a Ghost Rider. He questions why she would be wreaking havok. Gabe’s interest in Alejandra Jones will be important later on.

Episode 7: Tio

* Cold opening dream sequence: Robbie wakes up in the church and sees (to the audience’s surprise) Chloe Bennet. However, she introduces herself as the Ghost Rider, revealing that the Rider took the form of Daisy to talk to Robbie. Daisy and AOS is briefly referenced. Daisy-GR tells Robbie that he’s in way over his head and that it’s rethinking their deal. Robbie says that he can beat Eli but before we can go any further, Robbie wakes up from his dream.

* A plot: Robbie wakes up on some desert planet. Alejandra-Eli is there. They have a chat where we learn that Eli is planning on building a portal machine with the help of the Darkhold. Robbie asks why and Eli says that he wants to open a portal to hell large enough to allow Mephisto’s army to go through and conquer Earth and turn it into a new hell dimension. Robbie realizes the truth; not only was Eli Morrow turned into a Spirit of Vengeance by Mephisto, he was now Mephisto’s lackey. Mephisto is planning on conquering Earth. Robbie says he’ll never give up the Darkhold but Eli says that he already found it, revealing that Hive Mind used mind control on Robbie to make him give up the location of the Darkhold. Robbie and Alejandra-Eli fight but Alejandra-Eli escapes back to Earth, leaving Robbie stranded on the desert planet.

* A plot (continued): Robbie tries to make a portal back to Earth but realizes that Alejandra-Eli took his chains with her/him. He starts to wander around, trying to figure out how to get back home. As he does, he’s visited by the “ghosts” / hallucinations of Lisa, Gabe, Sara, and Kenshiro, who urge him on. He’s also visited by Daisy-Ghost-Rider and his parents, who we haven’t seen until this episode. Fueled by pure hatred and anger towards his uncle, Robbie uses the resources around him to find a way back home. He collects iron ores from the desert and uses the Ghost Rider fire to make a makeshift Sling Ring. He crosses through the portal, pissed as fuck.

* B plot: Sara, Kenshiro, and Gabe try to calm Hamilton Slade down, who is hysterical since being attacked by a demon. While dealing with this, police reinforcements arrive and arrest the four of them. They’re brought to the police station and questioned on what happened. While being interrogated, a werewolf attacks the police station, killing several people. Sara, Kenshiro, Gabe, and Hamilton work together with the police to kill the werewolf. After taking the werewolf down, the head police chief lets them go, realizing he has a whole city to clean up.

* C plot: Lisa finds Father Reyes, who is revealed to be Robbie and Gabe’s estranged father. The two talk, with Lisa saying that his son is a hero (without actually saying that Robbie is the Ghost Rider). Father Reyes agrees, although he’s worried about his son. Father Reyes and Lisa talk about Robbie and we learn more about Robbie’s childhood.

* End episode stinger: Alejandra-Eli is seen holding the Darkhold. Eli starts making plans to build a machine that could unlock a portal to Mephisto’s hell dimension. However, Alejandra briefly takes over, revealing that Eli doesn’t have as strong of a hold on her as he thought.

Episode 8: The Phantom

* A plot: Robbie reconnects with Team Ghost Rider, who are all tired from battling the demons. He also brings back Lisa from Los Angeles. Before he goes back to his team, Robbie chats with his father. Father Reyes reveals that he knows Robbie is the Ghost Rider (“You can’t fool me, son”) and that he figured it out several years ago. He also says that he doesn’t think Robbie’s soul is damned, despite Robbie claiming he made a deal with the devil. He says that Robbie is using his powers to fight the forces of evil and that makes him a warrior for God in his eyes. Father Reyes also says that he thinks Robbie hasn’t fully explored his powers, indirectly hinting at the Penance Stare (will become important later on).

* A plot (continued): With the whole team together, Robbie says that Alejandra/Eli is planning on building a machine that will open a portal to hell. He also tells them that Alejandra/Eli is working for Mephisto, who turned Eli into one of his minions in exchange for Spirit of Vengeance abilities. The team starts making a plan to destroy the portal machine, send Eli back to hell, and reclaim the Darkhold. However, Hamilton Slade doesn’t trust Robbie. He leaves the group with a plan to expose Robbie as the Ghost Rider

* A plot (continued): However, the team stops Hamilton in time and in an angry fit, he reveals that he despises the Ghost Rider since it’s his family legacy. His ancestor, Lincoln Slade, was a Ghost Rider but he abused his power. Robbie says that the Rider isn’t evil, it’s the user. He says that he’s using his powers to fight evil and that he’ll do whatever it takes to stop Eli Morrow and any other villain with plans to destroy the world. Robbie’s conviction to his mission is what finally convinces Hamilton that Robbie is a hero and abandons his plans.

* B plot: Alejandra’s battle for control over her own body gets heated as she tries destroying the portal machine whenever she’s in control. This leads to a surreal sequence where Alejandra and Eli play a game of mental hide-and-seek, with both of them fighting to be the dominant personality. Alejandra gets the upper hand near the end of the fight but, sadly, Eli overpowers her. Now in full control, Eli says to his henchmen, “The woman won’t be a problem anymore”. As he says this, he learns that his machine is close to finish.

Episode 9: Wrath

* Main plot: Picking up right at the end of the previous episode, Team Ghost Rider tries searching for Eli Morrow, realizing that he could be anywhere around the world. Robbie, knowing how he hid the Darkhold, begins retracing his steps to see if he could stumble across a clue on where Eli is. This leads to a sequence where Robbie and the team confront a demon named Hoss, who was keeping the Darkhold with him. When the team asks why Robbie trusted the book to Hoss, Robbie says it’s because Hoss is a collector whose personal vault is near-impenetrable. Hoss is also a demon bounty hunter, taking monsters back to hell just like Robbie, which is another reason why Robbie trusted him (although Hoss took demons back for pay).

* Main plot (continued): At first, Hoss claims that someone broke into his vault and stole the Darkhold. However, after some investigating, the team learns that Hoss backstabbed Robbie by giving Eli Morrow the Darkhold willingly. Hoss says that he wants Earth to becomes a hell dimension, leading to Robbie beating him up. Robbie forces Hoss to give up Eli’s location, which he does.

* Main plot (continued): The location turns out to be the old Momentum Labs. Eli Morrow, seeing that Robbie and his allies have found him, sends his demon army out to stop them. The rest of this episode consists of confrontations. Robbie battles and kills Hive Mind, avenging his previous defeat. Sara and Lisa team up and kill several demon minions. Kenshiro, despite being a non-fighter, manages to use his wits to take several demon minions down. While this is happening, Gabe tells Hamilton to wheel him to Alejandra. Hamilton questions him and Gabe says that he wants to talk to Alejandra.

* Main plot (continued): Hamilton takes Gabe into the heart of Momentum Labs without telling the rest of the group and they confront Alejandra/Eli together. Gabe appeals to Alejandra’s humanity and even to his uncle. He asks Eli if he wants to be Mephisto’s servant for the rest of his life and for the first time in the series, Eli doubts his plan. This moment of self-doubt leads to Alejandra resurfacing. She quickly tells Gabe and Hamilton to destroy the portal machine before Eli activates it since the portal will be self-sustaining once activated (meaning, destroying the machine won’t do anything). Alejandra also says they need to kill her before Eli comes back. Unfortunately, Eli does return and, angered, he turns into the All-New Ghost Rider and attacks Gabe and Hamilton.

* Main plot (continued): Robbie enters the scene just in time and the two Ghost Riders fight again. This time, with the help of Sara, Lisa, and Kenshiro, Robbie defeats Alejandra/Eli. However, before Robbie can burn Eli, “Alejandra” comes back and begs for mercy. Gabe stops Robbie and “Alejandra” begs them to save her before Eli comes back. But this turns out to be a ruse. It’s Eli pretending to be Alejandra. Eli activates the portal machine and the episode ends on the massive cliffhanger of Mephisto’s demon army ready to attack Earth!

Episode 10: Ghost Rider

(Season finale time! If you’re still reading this, I just wanna say, thank you, you’re a real trooper)

We start off right at the end of the previous episode. Robbie immediately destroys the portal machine but realizes that the portal is self-sustaining. Team Ghost Rider flees Momentum Labs as Mephisto’s demon army starts swarming Los Angeles. Things are going bonkers as police and National Guard come in to battle the army of darkness. As this is happening, Eli/Alejandra slips away.

The group barricades themselves in an abandoned office and Robbie says it’s his fault that Eli managed to activate the portal and he’s the only one with the ability to close the gate. Robbie tells the group to leave but they tell him that they’re with him to the end of the line. They make a new plan; Robbie and Sara will fight their way back to Momentum Labs to close the gate, Kenshiro will be their “guy in the chair” as well as search for Eli/Alejandra, and Lisa and Hamilton will take Gabe and flee the city.

As they prepare to exit the building, we get some interesting interactions. Lisa breaks up with Hamilton, saying that they’re better off as friends, and Hamilton wonders if it’s because she has feelings for Robbie. Hamilton tells Robbie that he’s surprised that he went from despising the Ghost Riders to working with one. Gabe tells Robbie that he needs to find a way to spare Alejandra since she’s an innocent in all this. Sara says to Kenshiro that she was wrong about Robbie and that he’s a warrior for God. Kenshiro admits that he has a huge crush on Sara but Sara says they can’t be together since she’s a nun.

The groups head out of the building. To summarize what happens, Robbie and Sister Sara battle their way through the demon hordes back to Momentum Labs. Robbie gets his “Thor: Ragnarok” moment and goes HAM on the demon army as heavy metal music blares in the background. He manages to close the portal with his chain, foiling Eli/Alejandra’s plans.

While this is happening, Lisa, Hamilton, and Gabe try to flee the city. Demons attack them and while fighting them off, Hamilton is fatally wounded. He tells Lisa that he loves her as he dies in her arms. After closing the portal, Robbie catches up with Lisa and Gabe and learns about what happened to Hamilton, enraging him. Kenshiro, who was guiding both groups this whole time, tells Robbie where Eli/Alejandra is, leading to our final confrontation.

Similar to Luke Cage season 1, Robbie confronts Eli/Alejandra while several bystanders watch. The two Ghost Riders go at it, with several big moments such as Robbie destroying Eli/Alejandra’s motorcyle, Eli/Alejandra destroying Robbie’s charger (temporarily, the car comes back of course), and so on. The fight eventually ends with Robbie defeating Eli/Alejandra and ready to destroy them.

Just then, Father Reyes’ words come back to Robbie and, for the first time in the whole series, Robbie uses the Penance Stare on Eli/Alejandra. Eli’s soul is burned by this but Alejandra is spared. Robbie is unsure how he knew he could do that and Sara suggests that “God gave him the power”. Battle ends with Alejandra thanking Robbie as she’s arrested.

Cut to several days later. The team attends Hamilton Slade’s funeral. Sara and Kenshiro decide to stay in Texas as Robbie’s main support team. Gabe also embraces his role as a member of Team Ghost Rider. Lisa is the last to join, saying that she always believed in the Ghost Rider. Robbie comforts her, telling her that he’s sorry for her loss, and Lisa thanks him for that. There are some signs of romantic feelings but nothing too blatant since Lisa is in mourning.

Robbie sees that the news are calling him a hero. Robbie doesn’t see himself that way and he rides off into the night, off to battle another demon.

As he rides off, we quickly cut back to Alejandra Jones, who is in a holding cell. In the cell’s mirror, she sees Eli Morrow looking back at her. He’s still there but it’s clear he has no power over her anymore.

The episode ends with Robbie riding off into the night...just as a motorcycle starts to follow him. We’re not shown who is following Robbie. Is it Johnny Blaze? Is it Danny Ketch? Is it Carter Slade? You’ll have to find out...in season two!

tagging (sorry, i know this is a long post): @angel-starbeam, @whistlingwindtree, @lostinthespeedforce, @agentmilayawithshield, @happilyshanghaied, @acerobbiereyes, @isisparker, @shutyourmoustache, @clarasghosts

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codetrainwreck · 6 years ago

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Geass Movie Super Ultimate Final Summary Extra Mega Sugoi Version (2/2)

Last time on Code Geass, Lelouch of the Re;surrection: Shesthaal is very cute, Lelouch blows up Shesthaal with Bitool’s Sakuradite, Shesthaal cries out for his father as he gets blown up, and there goes my interest in this movie.

Tbf though, it’s a good death scream. Imagine what kind of noises he makes in bed... he’s def an uke...

Anyway, continuing on.

Lelouch and the gang split from the prison and the container of prison staff he Geassed to help with their getaway is seen being let go. Although it took him 728 days longer to rise from the dead, Jesus Lamperouge has learned mercy.

Back in the capital at Shamna’s temple, Shesthaal’s dad, Cmdr. Forgnar, comes in and goes, “Holy shit my son died let’s go FUCK UP THE UFN” and Shamna is like, “No, let’s not.” Whether you think he actually cares or whether he wants to use this as an excuse to fuck up the UFN is up to you. However, based on the dialogue about how Cornelia is a curse word in this region, and how Forgnar doesn’t talk about his son like ever again (even other characters who aren’t even from Zilkhstan bring up Shesthaal’s “disappearance” later), it comes off as more like... Forgnar just wants an excuse to go fight Cornelia.

She asks Bitool how long ago Shesthaal died and Bitool replies it was in the afternoon, at 11am. Since it’s out of the 6 hour time limit (we’ll come back to this later), she apparently can’t do shit. Shamna says that with her prophecy, even if they’re Geass users, they can beat anyone. It shows Nunnally on the ceiling in some kind of tank. And also she has new clothing but isn’t wearing underwear because in Zilkh culture, they don’t wear underwear. This might read like a joke sentence, but it’s a 100% serious sentence.

At the UFN HQ, Schneizel is wearing glasses and looks hot. That’s all you need to know. There’s also a convo related to the plot and sending people and supplies to Zilkhstan including Lancelot’s new fortress frame coat, but I’m just gonna explain this in the next bit.

Back to the Good Guys, Sayoko observes some drop ships. Cornelia, who is now a general in the UFN (which makes her a Black Knight) has shown up with a small team of Black Knights and a Rag Tag Band from the TV series - herself, Guilford, Ohgi, Tamaki, Cecile, Nina, Anya, Jeremiah. The 8 of them, combined with Lelouch, CC, Kallen, Suzaku, Lloyd and Sayoko, plus Cornelia’s BKs, are going to save the fuck out of Nunnally.

Now, you might be asking yourself, “Why these specific people?” HMM WELL YOU SEE. None of them, aside from Cornelia and her few soldiers, are actually BKs anymore. Kallen is only a reserve member as she’s attending university. Basically, Schneizel can’t formally be like, “Wow send 1000 people to rescue Nunnally and mobilize the Black Knights” which is why he’s sending people who are mostly not involved with the Black Knights on this SUPER SECRET MISSION. (They talk about this back when CC first meets up with Kallen/Sayoko/Lloyd.)

And you might also be asking yourself... “Wait, what about Tohdoh, Gino, Xingke”, etc. What about those other Black Knights? HMM WELL YOU SEE. Xingke died, and the rest aren’t very popular characters, so plot-wise they stuck with the Black Knights giving the story and animators excuses to not include them in the main plot except for something really brief later.

Anyway, Lelouch has taken up the Zero costume again while CC is upset they haven’t run away to fuck like rabbits yet so she drinks a martini. And Cornelia is the only person with a brain, so she is like, “Dude, what the fuck? Am I supposed to be OK with this while Euphy and Darlton are dead?” Everyone else is like down to help Lelouch and Cornelia is not having this shit. Lelouch convinces her by taking off his Zero mask and sincerely asking his older sister for help.

Cornelia is like, “Hell yeah we’re gonna save Nunnally” after this but first since no one has seen each other in a while, they need to party first. Kallen and CC have some girl time finally but then proceed to fail the Bechdel test and talk about Lelouch.

Ohgi gives Lelouch a USB drive from Kaguya then tries to kill himself even though he has a wife and a child at home. Lelouch, without turning around, knows Ohgi is trying to kill himself so he forgives him and say it’s okay because he is merciful Jesus now. It’s chilly at night in the desert and Cornelia’s outfit is like sleeveless and zettai ryoiki so she’s walking around in the Zero jacket and gives Suzaku a drink.

Honestly, just let Cornelia be Zero.

Lelouch signals Suzaku up to the water tower, where they talk about how Lelouch understands the plot regarding his resurrection as well as the viewer (as in he doesn’t) and as far as he knows he could roll over and die at any time. Then an extremely misplaced Ali Project insert song plays while Lelouch watches a video from Ohgi’s wedding with lots of characters conveniently gathered at once... one of which happens to be Nunnally.

Also, Cornelia’s tits are one of the most well-drawn things in this movie next to Shesthaal’s hair when he’s in the cockpit. Honestly, I appreciate you, Sunrise.

SO, keikaku time. Instead of trying to explain this chronologically, I’m just gonna explain it... not chronologically.

Shamna’s Geass is to send her memories back in time 6 hours when she dies, so she effectively knows what’s going to happen and Zilkhstan can prepare for it. In an interview, Lelouch’s VA Fukujun compares this to “uploading her memory to Cs’ World and then downloading it” since Cs’ World has no concept of time. So, basically, the reason why Zilkhstan has been successful is because Shamna is fucking save scumming.

It is implied she already reset time at least once in the movie by now. The first is that at the start of the movie, Shalio remarks about how Zero moved to the place that Shamna said he would, so Shalio and the other KMFs are able to set up a trap under Suzaku in advance. I don’t know why she can’t chain this 6hrs -> back another 6hrs.

Lelouch and co initiate their plan. Lelouch successfully outmaneuvers Zilkhstan at every single place possible: Suzaku and Kallen are on the flats in Strike Freedom and Infinite Justice and wipe out all of the mooks. Everyone else is also able to make it to their destination. Zilkh soldiers have been Geassed to blow up their bases, Bitool can’t make it to his Guard Scorpion mech, etc.

Finally, Lelouch rides up to Shamna’s temple on the Mahoraba (the one Suzaku didn’t wreck at the start of the movie). Shamna goads Lelouch by hitting a button that auto-kills Nunnally in her tank. Lelouch responds by gunning Shamna down immediately. Shamna sends her memories back in time 6 hours.

Shamna is bathing with Shalio when she has a “prophecy”. We see she has a Code on her lower belly in this scene. She calls up Forgnar and explains the plot to him. This time around, Zilkhstan is prepared for all of Lelouch’s bullshit. Lelouch starts to despair and is almost shot down in the Mahoroba when Anya and CC show up and rescue his dumb noodle ass. Lelouch and CC co-pilot the Gekkoei. Lelouch has an existential crisis as he freaks out about his plans not working while everyone around him also freaks out about the plan not working and asks him for further instructions. And I mean like, literally everyone except for uhmm Cornelia? I think?

There’s a scene in R2 where Suzaku debuts the Lancelot Albion. Bismarck is there in Galahad and uses his Geass to fight Suzaku. Lelouch then rings up Suzaku and goes, “Dude, this being broadcasted worldwide, don’t fucking embarrass me”. Suzaku then goes on to use his live Geass to somehow overpower the Knight of One.

If this were a scene in the movie, it would be like, the Knight of One dodges one of Suzaku’s attacks or something and then Suzaku freaks the fuck out and goes, “OH NO, THE KNIGHT OF ONE HAS A GEASS. LELOUCH, WHAT DO I DO? MICROMANAGE ME AND GIVE ME SPECIFIC INSTRUCTIONS.” That is honestly what this whole sequence feels like.

Eventually, CC puts a gun to his head, out edgelords him, and convinces him to get his shit together. Lelouch gives her orders to give to everyone else because Geass doesn’t work on her. Thanks to Tamaki’s stupidity, he then uses the Zilkh public channel to declare that it’s time for the final phase of this mission. Suddenly, everyone becomes competent again and CC starts issuing commands to people. CC asks him what “final” means, and Lelouch replies it means nothing.

We then go through 30(?) implied time resets. While it doesn’t show time resetting literally 30 some times, it is implied that Lelouch gets 1 plan to work, then Shamna resets time and is ready for his new plan next time. We know it’s 30-ish because Lelouch has 8 folder plans he gives to CC, and also has 22 theories about what the enemy Geass user’s Geass is and he goes down the list eliminating them.

Something that I think English viewers missed from the American theater screenings is that CC does not retain their memories because Shamna’s Geass only affects herself. So, essentially, from Lelouch’s POV, he’s just going down the list until something works. From Shamna’s POV, she goes back and prepares to counter him every time she sees his next move.

On the last loop, Lelouch’s last ditch effort to figure out Shamna’s Geass is to bluff her by saying, “I have the same Geass as you”. Shamna freaks the fuck out and tells her guards not to kill Lelouch. Lelouch can tell from this reaction what her Geass is, so he Geasses her to sleep, and also sets a bomb that will go off in 10-11-12-whatever hours. (E.g. even if Shamna resets time, she’ll be back in time but it’ll be when she’s sleeping.)

Lelouch and CC try to wake Nunnally but she isn’t responsive. CC deduces that her soul/KOKORO/whatever is not in her body. However, they set Shamna’s temple to blow up in [X] hours. Lelouch and CC use Shamna’s system to enter the metaphysical world. CC goes to confirm something, then she will leave to move their bodies so they don’t die IRL.

CC confronts Shamna and learns the plot: “I want to remake the world.” Recall that in R2, Marianne and Charles needed 2 Codes to fuck Cs’ World. Shamna has 1 Code on her womb. Charles is dead, she doesn’t know Lelouch has one. Seemingly, she tried to use Nunnally has a make shift second Code due to her connection to the magic world cause of her family. (Her “wavelengths” are the same as Charles’s.)

Ah, yes, an older sibling with a Geass who has a younger wheelchair bound sibling tries to fuck the whole world. Hmm NEVER HEARD THAT PLOT BEFORE. Shamna wishes to stay in the metaphysical realm so she can see Shalio as he passes by. CC warns her not to “leave her [heart/essence/whatever] behind”. Interpretation is that CC is saying, “Can you please not fuck this up like how Charles did” [by leaving himself behind].

In the real world, CC, Tamaki and Ohgi have moved Lelouch and Nunnally’s bodies away from the temple. Lelouch finds Nunnally. The two get swallowed by black particle bullshit until Lelouch confesses that Geass is his sin (or something... I don’t actually remember what he says before the “uhh this is my sin” part). After, rainbow fucking magic hands appear to “catch” them, and Lelouch remarks that these are the people who helped earlier. (Earlier as in, when CC reached for Lelouch.)

The sub-plots that occur during all of these time resets are as follows:

Ohgi and Tamaki steal a KMF by distracting the pilot with camels crossing the road then getting on top of the KMF and beating the pilot up. Then they make hot pot while waiting for orders from Zero.

Sayoko ditches Ohgi and Tamaki to meet up with the science crew who can’t escape the city because Qujappat is after them. Cecile gets shot during the skirmish (all 30 fucking times) and Nina kills Qujappat by disconnecting her KMF’s energy filler power lines and dropping them in water to electrocute him and the other assassins to death.

Gino and Tohdoh (and others) are trying to talk to Zilkhstan official politic-y people about the Nunnally and Zero being MIA thing as members of the Black Knights. Gino asks to know why Zilkhstan’s Official Elite Bodyguard Captain Something Something Rich Pretty Boy PR Person Shesthaal is mysteriously missing from this meeting as he was supposed to be there. Milly, who is watching events unfold at the TV station, also asks about where he went.

Suzaku fights Shalio with his new Lancelot (ugly as) siN and its thicc frame coat. Shalio beats him in the frame coat. Suzaku purges the frame coat and then beats Shalio. However, by this point, Shalio’s body is seemingly at its limit (he’s bleeding out of his eyes), and honestly it feels like a free kill. At one point, Suzaku asks Shalio, “Why the fuck did you ruin peace etc” and Shalio replies that he has to be the ultimate warrior (implied: for his sister) so he can’t do this hand-holding peace shit and his country has nothing but fighting.

Kallen gets trapped by Bitool’s guard scorpion mech in the Guren Special Type (also thicc). She purges the frame coat and magical warp speed jumps out of the energy sphere she’s trapped in, then blows up Bitool with her good ole laser knife.

Cornelia and Guilford are on the bridge. Cornelia fights Forgnar, who then tries to sacrifice himself and orders his troops to kill both him and Cornelia. Cornelia encourages him to find a peaceful solution.

After all of this bullshit resolves, Shamna’s temple blows up and we see a visual representation of her being exploded inside of the Thought Elevator where CC last saw her. In the real world, Lelouch and Nunnally chat about being together again. The scene between them ends without you hearing his response to her. CC skips town, but not before Kallen gives CC her bootleg Cheese mascot.

Lelouch catches up to CC (out of breath, ofc). CC says something about going to find other Geass users like Shamna (I don’t remember the exact details cause Shesthaal has nothing to do w/this scene, sorry). Lelouch goes with her, taking up the name LL to match CC’s non-human name. CC pauses, then blushes and makes a moe anime waifu noise.

However, it is nowhere near as cute as Shesthaal’s “umu” or when he asks where Zero is in the prison (”Zerooooo?”). Lmao fucking get rekt CC he’s cuter than you and also has long green hair.

In the post-credits scene, Lelouch and CC have clothes from a 2000s Hot Topic - CLAMP-looking black gothic outfits. Something that like... no one has mentioned so far is that Lelouch is wearing a rose choker that matches Shirley’s rose earrings from the ending cards. Shirley also showed up in a mall earlier in the movie. Shirley... was shopping at Hot Topic for Lelouch and CC and bought herself earrings while she was there? Idk.

Lelouch recites the same Power of the King speech that CC gave him in the first episode of the anime, but with a couple differences. He says the power MAY isolate you, not that it will, and also that if you suck at Geass, he’ll take it away from you.

~ ThE eNd ~

OKAY YEAH SO I didn’t really enjoy this movie a lot. You have about 5 seconds to mourn Shesthaal before Daddy Schneizel shows up in glasses. It’s like you’re eating a cute little salad and you’re not done when your entree shows up. (Your entree. In glasses. And looking hot and appetizing as fuck.)

Pretty boy stuff aside, my opinion is generally that the main plot stuff is a bunch of “whatever” but the smaller stuff is good. Like... Tamaki and Ohgi making hot pot in a KMF after knocking out the pilot by distracting them with camels crossing the road (semi-foreshadowed earlier when Tamaki and Ohgi were hiding out near some sleeping camels) was some pretty great character interaction that actually led up to Lelouch’s, “Yo, final phase” speech on the open channel.

Shalio knowing that Suzaku is Zero BECAUSE OF THE FUCKING SPINKICK was pretty great too. There are lots of small things that have nothing to do with Lelouch and CC that I found way more memorable and Code Geass-y. Even just reading interviews is fun - Nobbu is a good VA and there’s an interview where he’s like, “Taniguchi told me, ‘Your dad is Akio Ohtsuka’ and I instantly understood”... lol...

The stuff with, “Everyone is useless, good thing Lelouch is here” was kind of physically painful to watch. From a thematic POV, we see the compare/contrast - Nunnally able to live without Lelouch but Shalio unable to do the same without Shamna. And also with how Zilkhstan are a bunch of headless chickens without Shamna micromanaging them with her prophecies yet all of the old TV cast magically become competent again after Lelouch says their plan is now entering the final phase.

E.g. we see how a ~decorated war hero~ like Cmdr. Forgner was also reliant on her explaining the plot (maybe it’s for the best poor Shesthaal died before finding out everything about his dad and his country were big fucking shams ;_;). However, just because I understand why it’s in the movie doesn’t mean I have to like it. ‘_>’

It was like watching uh, idk, Advent Children or Nadesico: Prince of Darkness or something. Which was also about the expectation level for this movie, but I actually felt fatigue kick in around the 1hr 20min mark...

#code geass #Lelouch of the Resurrection #summary

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thefranklinoutdoor · 6 years ago

Photo

LOVE ALL POTATOES

Jim Duignan Claire Pentecost Melissa Potter

Opening: Friday, June 14 from 6 to 9pm

From June 14 to September 7, 2019

Love All Potatoes is a garden laboratory project by Jim Duignan, Claire Pentecost, and Melissa Potter. The artists will plant heirloom variety potatoes (e.g. Jersey Yellow and Okinawa Purple) in improvised planters, start a compost bin, and install a handmade garden cart to seed their intersecting dialogues on plant personal histories, microecologies, and intangible heritage craft histories. Over the summer, the potatoes will blossom on vines running from the sacks along strings to parts unknown. The artists will activate the Franklin as an eco-pedagogical space to engender conversations on the Garfield Park community and land in general, and to develop other collective works-in-progress, such as a publication printed on paper made from potato vines.

Jim Duignan is an artist, forming the Stockyard Institute in 1995 as a civic, artist project in the Back of the Yards community of south Chicago. Stockyard Institute was influenced early by community artists, revolutionaries, local activists, and radical teachers who explored the community as sites of contest and considered the social and civic forms of public engagement as much a part of practice as they did their life. Duignan is a professor of Visual Art in the College of Education at DePaul University in Chicago where he is the Chair of Visual Art Education. Recent print publications include; Back to the Sandbox: Art and Radical Pedagogy, (Ed.) Jaroslav Andel, published Western Washington (2019), Poor and Needy; Baggesen and Brackman, Published by Poor Farm Krabbesholm (2018), Building a Gang-Proof Suit: An Artistic and Pedagogical Framework, for the Chicago Social Practice History Series, (Eds.) Mary Jane Jacob and Kate Zeller, published University of Chicago Press (2015) and No Longer Interested for the Blade of Grass Foundation (2014). Select exhibitions include Stockyard Institute Retrospective, DePaul Art Museum (2021), Envisioning Justice, Sullivan Galleries (2019), PUBLIC SCHOOL, Hyde Park Art Center (2017), Smart Museum (2017), the Chicago Cultural Center (2016), Reykjavik Art Museum, Iceland (2016), Interference Archive, Brooklyn, NYC (2015), Sullivan Galleries, Chicago (2014), Kochi-Muziris Biennial, India (2014) and the Hull House Museum (2013). In addition, Duignan’s work has been published in The Atlantic Monthly, The Art Newspaper, Prestel Publications (Nick Cave’s Epitome), New York Times, Chicago Reader, New Art Examiner, Chronicle of Higher Education, New City, Chicago Tribune, and many others. His work has been recognized by the Weitz Family Foundation, Illinois Humanities, Artadia (NYC), and the Art Institute of Chicago. He received a B.F.A. and M.F.A. from the University of Illinois at Chicago in Studio Arts.

Claire Pentecost is an artist and writer whose poetic and inductive drawings, sculpture and installations test and celebrate the conditions that bound and define life itself. Her projects often address the contested line between the natural and the artificial, focusing for many years on food, agriculture, bio-engineering, and anthropogenic changes in the indivisible living entity that animates our planet. Since 2006 she has worked with Brian Holmes, 16Beaver and many others organizing Continental Drift, a series of seminars to articulate the interlocking scales of our existence in the logic of globalization. She is also a founding member of Deeptime Chicago, dedicated to cultural change in the Anthropocene. A sample of Pentecost’s exhibition venues include dOCUMENTA(13), Whitechapel Gallery, the 13th Istanbul Biennial, Nottingham Contemporary, the DePaul Art Museum (Chicago), the Museum of Contemporary Photography (Chicago), the Third Mongolian Land Art Biennial, The Times Museum (Guangzhou), Spencer Museum (Lawrence, KS). Institutions inviting her to lecture include MIT; CalArts; RISD; Northwestern University; Rice University; The University of Virginia; Creative Time Summit and many others. She is represented by Higher Pictures, New York, and is a Professor in the Department of Photography at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago.

Melissa Hilliard Potter is a feminist interdisciplinary artist, writer, and curator whose work has been exhibited in venues including White Columns, Bronx Museum of the Arts, and Museum of Contemporary Art Chicago, to name a few. Her films have been screened at international film festivals, such as the Cinneffable and the Reeling International LGBT Film Festival. Potter’s awards include three Fulbright Scholar grants, which enabled her to build two papermaking studios at university art departments in Serbia and Bosnia & Hercegovina. As a curator, Potter’s exhibitions include “Social Paper: Hand Papermaking in the Context of Socially Engaged Art” with Jessica Cochran and “Revolution at Point Zero: Feminist Social Practice” with Neysa Page Lieberman. Her critical essays have been printed in BOMB, Art Papers, Flash Art, Metropolis M, Hand Papermaking, and AfterImage among others.

At The FLAT SCREEN

Solo Land Dive: Dukan Desert

Hope Ginsburg

Solo Land Dive: Dukan Desert is part of a body of the Land Dive Team body of work that proposes meditation, practicing present-moment awareness with equanimity, for coping with climate change. Breathing on land with scuba makes for a kind of assisted meditation. The mild, if not moderate discomfort of the equipment (its weight, warmth, constraints) keeps the wearer in mind of his or her physical presence. The intensification of each breath becomes a kind of involuntary meditation; one must “show up” for each exhalation when an entire apparatus is calling attention to it. In this video, one of thirteen Land Dives since 2014, I undertook a solo meditation, breathing with scuba gear in a remote desert landscape crisscrossed by all-terrain vehicles. As disjunctive as the image appears, it contains the ominous implication of a “future ocean” as rising sea levels are a threat in the Persian Gulf region.

Each of Hope Ginsburg’s long-term projects builds community around learning. Her work is by turns collaborative, cooperative, and participatory. These artworks are made with peers, students, scientists, members of the public, and experts with knowledge from outside of the field. Rooted in first-hand experience, Ginsburg’s projects are invested in the socially transformative potential of knowledge exchange. Hope Ginsburg has exhibited nationally and internationally at venues such as MoMA PS1, MASS MoCA, Institute for Contemporary Art at VCU, Wexner Center for the Arts, Kunst-Werke Berlin, Contemporary Art Center Vilnius, Baltimore Museum of Art, SculptureCenter, and the Mercosul Biennial in Brazil. Upcoming projects include a solo exhibition at the University of South Florida Contemporary Art Museum funded by the National Endowment for the Arts. Ginsburg is the recipient of an Art Matters Foundation Grant and a Virginia Museum of Fine Arts Fellowship and has attended residencies such as the Robert Rauschenberg Residency, the Skowhegan School of Painting and Sculpture, the Wexner Film/Video Studio, and The Harbor at Beta Local. Her work has appeared in the New York Times, the Wall Street Journal, Hyperallergic, and Artforum.

Solo Land Dive: Dukan Desert 2015 Single channel video with sound 4 min 59 sec

Camera: Dylan Halpern Editor: Tyler Kirby Sound: Joshua Quarles

Edition of three Courtesy of the artist

At The LIVING ROOM

A Metaphor Against Oblivion

Norma Vila Rivero

A Metaphor Against Oblivion is Norma Vila’s latest conceptual body of work, inspired by two themes: landscape and absence. This collection of images references and criticizes the notions of development by metaphorically representing the absent landscape that remains in the collective consciousness. Vila is tempted to convey the impossibility of the landscape that surrounds her by presenting a critical look at the transformation of the landscape -in the broadest sense of the word- while at the same time a contemplative view of the paradox of development in today's world.

Vila Rivero works with analogies and the double meanings of objects, words, and concepts. Media, disciplines, and materials are intertwined, thereby creating an intricate web of multi layered ideas. Vila’s starting points originate with personal experiences within her collective environment. She then directs her interests into an in-depth critical analysis of selected topics. With a deep dive into the origins and meaning of her subjects, she prepares the groundwork for making critical, contemporary and pertinent visual commentary.

Vila Rivero comments: "For this project I am working with the representation of the metaphor 'the skin of memory'... Everything we have seen marks us, and many times when passing by some place, it is inevitable to remember that place as it was before ... And that absent landscape is impregnated in us, it is a mark and a metaphor against oblivion. In order to represent that mark or trace in the memory, in this series of photos I place a stencil on the back of a model and the sun imprints the image to their backs... Then I place the model - marked by the memory of what is no longer there - in the place that corresponds to the vanished landscape. All the images used as stencils are based on stories that I have compiled from friends, family members, or myself. The result is a photo that serves as testimony or record of the specific event ... The aim is to present a clear and manifest absence. Photography as a medium is vital as it makes an absence visible and serves as a certificate of presence. In A Metaphor Against Oblivion themes such as the impossibility of the natural landscape on an island, the excessive urban development, the abandonment of cultural heritage, and the negligence in the communities and public spaces are over layered to contrast the effects caused by failed leadership and bad management today."

Calls for attention on the ways we relate to the environment are a peremptory key in Norma Vila's most recent proposal. Issues that previously emerged in her work are openly formulated today in what will be a long-term research project about environmental sustainability in the face of economic growth. Reflection through the chosen images allows us to think about ideas: memory-event-revelation, games of presence and absence, traces of hidden realities, as activation of the memory, and of updating past marks, cognitively and emotionally.

Norma Vila Rivero (b. 1982, Puerto Rico) is an artist that approaches art making from a diverse number of perspectives while subtly seeking to address emotional issues or intense social themes from a humanist point of view. She is also an active art projects coordinator of numerous innovative projects in Puerto Rico and in Boston and New York. Vila Rivero has a B.A. in Visual Arts from the Universidad del Sagrado Corazón and an M.A. in Arts Administration from the Universidad del Turabo, Ana G. Méndez. Her work has been presented in Mexico, Norway, Switzerland, Argentina, the Dominican Republic, St. Croix and U.S.A. In 2017 was selected to participate with Occupy Museums Debt Fair installation at the Whitney Museum Biennial. Since 2010 she is the Administrator of the Galería de Arte de la Universidad del Sagrado Corazón. In 2011 she co-founded Metroplataforma Organizada an artist run space and since 2015 has been the Director of ÁREA: lugar de proyectos (Founded in Caguas, P.R in 2005). Vila Rivero's work is part of the collection of the Museum and Center for Humanistic Studies Dra. Josefina Camacho de la Nuez (University of Turabo, Caguas, P.R), Luciano Benetton Collection, el Museo de Arte de Puerto RIco (MAPR) and the Foundation FIART (International Foundation Fund of the Arts) in Madrid, Spain, as well as in private collections.

At The FRONT YARD

Are You Ready Kahlil Irving

Previously exhibited at Wesleyan University Center for the Arts, "Are You Ready" is a flag sculpture that connotes the relationship of a surrender flag and a racing flag. There is always a struggle and reality to face. So to use the flag with its complex usage past and present is a symbol I find relevant. "Are You Ready" is a response to the call that Tracy Chapman narrates within her song "I'm Ready". She is singing for passage, for love, for health, for life. So I am responding to her call. This flag flying is a message for Black life and the perseverance of Black people through the constant pressures faced while living today.

Kahlil Robert Irving (b. 1992, San Diego, Ca) is a multimedia artist, currently living and working part time between Saint Louis, Missouri and Brooklyn, New York. Irving completed his BFA in art history and ceramics at the Kansas City Art Institute. In May of 2017, Irving earned his Master of Fine Arts at Washington University in St. Louis. At Washington University in St. Louis Irving was a Chancellor’s Graduate Fellow. Irving was awarded the 2017 Alice C. Cole Fellowship from the studio art department at Wellesley College in Wellesley, Massachusetts. Recently, Irving completed the Turner Teaching Fellow at the New York State College of Ceramics at Alfred University. His work is in the collections of the Riga Porcelain Museum, in Riga, Latvia; Foundation for Contemporary Ceramic Art in Kecskemet, Hungary; The RISD Museum in Providence, Rhode Island; The Carnegie Museum of Art, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania; The Nerman Museum of Contemporary Art at Johnson Community College in Overland Park, Kansas; The Whitney Museum of American Art, New York, New York. Most recently, his practice has involved making objects that are to challenge constructs around identity and culture in western civilization. He wants to challenge realities of Racism and objects that exist within the history of decorative arts and contemporary life.

Are You Ready by Kahlil Irving 2018 3 x 5 feet polyester digital print Courtesy of the Artist and Callicoon Fine Arts, NY

THE FRANKLIN 3522 W. Franklin Blvd, Chicago IL 60624 (312)823-3632 Hours: Saturdays 2-5PM and by appointment http://thefranklinoutdoor.tumblr.com/ Instagram #thefranklinoutdoor

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