#but it was nowhere near as interrupted and we feel a lot better in terms of not feeling as sleep deprived

[thethingything]

went downstairs and immediately saw a tiny moth. fuck yeah

[tommyspeakycap]

again, your new john stones fic blew me away!!! Amazing. Please feel free to write about him all day every day!! <3

thank you again!! here’s another sweet one inspired by my own 1am experience tonight :) i wish I had a john stones

My hero

Your heart is quite literally thundering in your chest. There’s no feeling like it, this kind of fear that sticks you to the ground beneath your feet. You honestly feel like you can’t catch your breath, tears streaking down over your flushed cheeks as you hold your phone in your right hand with trembling fingers, one thumb finally letting go of the little microphone shaped drawing in your iMessages app. Even the whooshing sound of the message you knew was about to send to your best friend catches you off guard, making your shoulders clench and raise in fright.

“Are you seriously alright??”

She texts back, her confusion and teasing is something you know is laced into those letters across the screen creating a glow in the dim room. You roll your eyes at her, trying to keep your vision up while sending another voice note back; “No, seriously. Why does this only ever happen when I’m alone??”

“Probably because you live alone?” She replies back, and you curse yourself for a choice of friends who clearly have no empathy for what you consider to be a very serious situation. You know you won’t hear the end of this teasing once it’s all over. But the fear to you is all too real.

“(Y/n) I got your text! Came right here, are you alright?”

The sudden voice makes you literally clench your entire body, nearly shooting off the floor in fright and making one of those internalised fear noises that sounds like you just been attacked with a taser. You hear keys dropping down by the door and then a pause of his footsteps as you try to catch your breath. Your heart swells a little at the thought of him being here.

“John!” You yelp, your voice coming out something more like a strangled cry. The tall defender hears that sound and finds himself in panic, those long legs carrying him quickly and easily up the stairs of your small home until he spots you standing now in the doorway of your bedroom. He rushes towards you, seemingly checking you over for potential injuries the best he can in the darkness only broken by the lowest setting of flashlight on your phone. The first thing he notices when checking over your face with his hands is the wetness still making its way over your cheeks.

“Are you alright? what happened? Is there someone in there? Are you okay? Did someone hurt-“

You cut off his rambling with a finger over his lips, creating even more confusion for the fluffy haired brunette who had very clearly rolled himself out of bed to hurry over here. He was wearing shoes without socks, dirty shorts from training that he’d thrown off before going to bed only to pull back in to come to your, and an old sweater that usually sat somewhere downstairs in the closet closest to the door. It was obvious he had come in a wild rush the second he got your erratic message.

“It’s a wasp, John!” You whisper, as if the little creature that sitting on your lightbulb unwilling to move from the place you couldn’t reach and wouldn’t dare to even if you could, was able to hear you.

“A wasp?” John repeats incredulously. “Seriously?”

You nod vigorously, and and as much as the exhausted footballer wants to complain or even sigh at you, he doesn’t. Maybe he can’t. Because he’s got his arms around you and he definitely can feel you quivering against him. He had expected something more along the lines of a one night stand gone wrong or even someone breaking it, but as his consciousness began to catch back up with his previously very sleepy self, it made a lot more sense. In the event of a break in, you would probably have been bloody calmer than you are now to be honest. John had seen you after a pretty dangerous car crash completely still and relatively calm as you gave statements to police officers with blood still trickling down your face. But put an insect in your path and you scaled the closest thing to you for protection.

It just so happened that closest thing was often John Stones, and he was happy to be that person really.

It has become a norm between the two of you in the years you had been friends. Winter was the worst for spiders, but he generally didn’t mind the mildly irritating insects. He just got rid of them one way or another while you hid as far as you could get and then he’d come get you when the coast was clean. But you hated summer for this particular reason.

Wasps.

They fly in, fly into things and somehow never make it back on the window on their own despite it being the most easy thing one could ever imagine. Then, they try and sting you as if they aren’t in your house. They just creep you out, even the sight of them with their nasty little bodies. Bees aren’t a problem, they’re fuzzy looking and don’t intrude in your home nearly half as much. Also, they don’t try to sting you all the damn time.

“Where abouts?” He asks, his voice showing no hint of any destain or irritation he may harbour. “On the light,” you tell him shakily, following close to him back as you both enter the room. “Right up there- careful!”

John sniggers a little to himself, much to your dismay. He kicks off his shoes by your bedside table and climbs up onto the bed with ease on those ridiculously long legs. By luck, chance or both, he has some toilet paper in his hoodie pocket that he’d probably used to wipe his nose or something like that earlier, he can’t remember. He holds it out at arms length, only inches away form the unsuspecting black and yellow insect. “Where?” He asks again, “I can’t see anything.”

“There!” You insist, pointing up with a shaking finger. “I don’t see anything (y/n).” He repeats, making you whimper slightly, more tears suddenly appearing as you try to come to terms with the fact it might’ve moved while you were outside the room. The thought of having to sleep in your house while not knowing where it was would send you absolutely mental. “It was there I swear, look-“

“Ahhh, I got it. Stand back.”

He leans forward with relative ease, careful with the force he used so close to a live electric source and grips the buzzing creature in his tissue. “There we go,” he hums, stepping down from the bed. “All go-“

As if on cue, it flies out of the paper and you let loose a literal shriek as you dive backwards, crashing into the wall and then jumping forward in fright at that. “Woah!” John calls, “it’s alright, it’s right there. Calm, calm. Take a deep breath. Look,” he tries to calm you. That deep accent with his fatigue coating each word seeps into you, carefully calming your firing heart as he grabs it tighter from the floor, making sure he squashed it this time and immediately takes it to flush it down the toilet. John doesn’t know if you’re supposed to kill them or not, but at this moment in time he genuinely does not care. Was he fuck going to chase a wasp out of a window at half past one in the morning. Not a chance.

When he returns from the bathroom now empty handed, you still seem upset.

“That was scary.” You announce.

John smiles, pearly whites all on display. “I noticed.” He teases, making you scowl tiredly at him.

That scowl falters when his smile breaks into a light, soft laugh and he moves to stand in front of you. You absolutely don’t mind the fact that he’s babying you a little, using the sleeves of his sweater to wipe your cheeks before pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead and taking you into his strong arms. In fact, it’s very much welcomed. His arms are the safest place in the world to you and even the residual discomforted shivers from the concept of a wasp in your bedroom couldn’t get through that defender. He looks after a lot more than just the Manchester City goal line. No, he’s the sole defender of something much more precious that he doesn’t even realise.

Your heart.

“You okay now?” He asks softly, his tired voice rumbling through you. You nod against him, “Feeling a bit better. Thank you Stonesy.” You mumble, words muffled by the muscled chest that your face his resting against. “Anything for you, lovely.” He responds easily, pulling back from you in a way that aches his heart. The sudden lack of your warmth and presence against him is utterly brutal. He loves holding you, but hates it in the same breath. He would love to hold you if it was something he got to do freely instead of fleetingly.

His eyes are stuck watching you sit down on the edge of your bed to grab your phone and check the time with an element of shock rolling through your eyes when you realise it’s nearly two.

“You got training tomorrow?” You ask sweetly, a yawn following the tail end of your words adorable in a way that makes John’s heart flutter like a teenage boy. He nods, “Not till after dinner though, around 5.”

It’s your turn to nod, seeming to be chewing over something in thought as you lie down in the middle of your bed.

“Wanna stay then?”

John has to pretend to think about it at least a little bit so he doesn’t look like he’s jumping right up at the opportunity, which is exactly what he wants to do. “Why not,” he shrugs, chucking off his hoodie to the foot of your bed, “Scoot over.”

He clambers in, long limbs moving nowhere near as coordinated as they are on the pitch as he lays down by your right. It’s like a familiar dance, one you both know so well as you shuffle around so you can lay against his chest, one leg hooked over him as his arm wraps around you to pull you even closer. A silence falls between you as he feels your eyelashes fluttering shut, tickling his chest. He can’t find that same relaxation, can’t seem to shut his eyes for the thoughts flying through his mind all at once.

“I should teach you how to catch them.” John states, rumbling voice interrupting the peaceful quiet in which you had nearly found sleep. “You know, for the future.” He adds almost flippantly. Almost.

“Why?” You hum groggily, sleep croaking your voice ever so slightly. “I got you.”

John has to pretend your half asleep admission doesn’t send his heart flying into his throat. You do always have him, right there in the palm of your hand. Always.

“I don’t think other guys would appreciate me barging into their house in the middle of the night.” He suggests, making you quirk an eyebrow in question, but you still don’t look up at him and he isn’t even sure if you’ve got your eyes fully open. “No other guys here,” you state, “Single, living all alone.” You add lazily. The words almost make John wonder if he has fallen asleep, each one spoke playing straight into the dream he’s had for years for you to be his.

“Yeah, I know but…but there will be, at some point.” He suggests. You give no response for a moment and he briefly thinks you’ve fallen asleep at some point in this conversation.

“Bet those other guys wouldn’t come get rid of wasps for me in the middle of the night like you do.”

“Maybe,” John shrugs, “but I think there’s plenty of guys like that, especially for you.”

He feels you shake your head against him, your words decisive as you speak;

“There are no guys like you, John Stones.”

His words and his breath are caught on his throat, his heart erupting in his chest as he replays those words in his mind, trying to figure out if he had actually just heard them or if his tired mind was playing tricks on him because it was so late and he hadn’t had enough sleep.

But then you look up at him with tired eyes and a sweet smile. You know what you’ve just done, know the bomb you’ve just dropped and you’re hoping with everything crossed that he feels the same way.

“You’re my hero, Stonesy.” You say softly, your voice now a little sheepish and he can barely just make out the flush of your cheeks in the dim room lighting. “And I love you with everything I have.”

He doesn’t know what to say, his eyes wide as his heart beats as erratically as he had felt yours beating when he first arrived with fear coursing through his veins thinking you were in some kind of mortal peril.

“John?” You ask timidly, voice sheepish as you sit up in fear.

“Sorry,” he rumbles, pushing himself to a seated position, allowing him to lean forward and slide his hand around the back of your head to pull you into him, your lips crashing down onto his.

It’s just about everything he’s ever wanted.

“God I love you.” He says against your lips, a groan leaving his throat from pure satisfaction, pure relief of finally getting those words off of his chest. You giggle, resting back against his chest. “Can we sleep now, please?”

He nods, both of you shuffling so you can resume the position you had been in before a life changing confession that had spun you and the Barnsley brunette into the kiss that had been years in waiting. This was the happiest either of you had probably ever been.

“Guess we have the wasps to thank for this eh?” John lulls just as sleep is about to encompass you. He feels you shiver against him, the hairs on your arms immediately raising to attention at the mention of that which you hate so much.

“Don’t say that! That’s basically an invitation for them to invade my house!” You hiss, giving his chest a gentle swat as he pulls you closer to his side.

“Let them come,” he says almost triumphantly, “You got me now, always.”

You cosy yourself against him, a soft sigh of complete content and comfort tickling his chest as it dances across him. He feels that gentle smile that settles onto your gestures as your heavy eyes allow sleep to truly begin to take you.

“Always,” you mumble, words diluted by sleep “My hero.”

[forever-rogue]

Bitter

A/N: Pain? Pain? Did someone ask for some pain? No? Well, here’s some pain anyways! No happy endings in sight! Enjoy! Xx (also very loosely based on the song Bitter!)

Pairing: Javier x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: language, light smut (18+ only!)

MASTERLIST

JAVIER MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

He's here. Of course he is.

You were mildly surprised, but honestly, you'd have been more surprised if he'd skipped out. 

You clutched your glass of wine so tightly that it seemed to be a miracle that it didn't shatter into a thousand tiny little bits. Just like your heart had done. Because of him. Because of Javier.

You hated him. But in a sick and twisted way, all through how the universe seemed to work, you couldn't ever completely hate him. When you'd been good, you were good. Great even. But as soon as things turned sour, they'd gone bitter in a heartbeat. 

For a man that claimed he didn't do relationships, Javier Peña proved to be an excellent partner - a good friend, a caring lover, and a fun time. That was until he decided that relationships absolutely weren't his thing. Because everything had been a lie.

But maybe it had been you? 

Because for a man that claimed he didn't do relationships, he sure had liked it with you - until he didn't. Apparently he was willing to wager all of that again - or needed something else from someone else.

At least that's what you gleaned from the blonde that was hanging onto his arm and giggling at seemingly everything he said. It was enough to make you want to throw up then and there. 

You’d been at this silly little holiday party for long enough, you suddenly decided. Downing the rest of your wine, the slight buzz had set in but wasn’t enough to actually help to suppress your feelings, you resolved to make a few goodbyes and leave. Going home to an empty and dark apartment was better than staying here. 

“You might as well just shoot him,” Steve Murphy’s voice reached your ears and you tensed up before realizing who it was. The tall blonde was standing next to you, a drink in his own hand and a scowl on his face, “it’d be easier than glaring daggers all night.”

“Which is precisely why I’m leaving,” you took your empty flute and shoved it in his hand. You almost felt bad for snapping at him - almost. He’d been Javier’s partner and friend first and foremost, and although you’d come to know him as your own friend, it was still hard to separate the two of them. But he was a good man, and to be fair, he’d been almost as men to Javier as you had when it all went down. However, unlike you, he was stuck working with him. You were lucky enough to work for the CIA instead of the DEA, so you had the mercy of getting to easily avoid him.

“I’ve never seen her before,” he offered as if that was going to make everything better, “he’s probably-”

“I don’t care,” you insisted sharply, bitter venom lacing your words, “I really don’t, Steve. I just - I’m leaving.”

“Do you need me to-”

“I’m good,” you insisted. 

You were anything but. 

“Kid-”

“I’m good,” you repeated firmly as you pressed past him and headed for the exit of the stuffy hall. You didn’t even bother turning around to say goodbye to say or anything. You just wanted to get out of there and go home as quickly as possible. 

Fuck Javier Peña. Fuck him for making you fall in love with him, and fuck him for breaking you in one foul swoop. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

“You know, for someone that claims he’s not into the whole romantic relationship bullshit,” you grinned at Javi as you sat on his kitchen counter, swinging your legs back and forth as he prepared dinner, “you’re pretty good at it.”

“Hmm,” he mused as he took a sip of his beer before putting his hands on your thighs and stepping between your legs, “maybe your standards are too low, Dulzura.”

“Maybe you don’t give yourself enough credit,” you teased back, only to be silenced by Javier crashing his lips onto yours. You could already feel yourself melting into his touch, as his arms wrapped around your waist and yours around his neck, “Javi.”

Before things could go any further, the two of you were interrupted by a loud crackling from the pan. A heavy sigh left his lips as he pressed one more to your forehead before he turned back to the pan, “I will admit, I never thought I’d be here making you dinner.”

“Me specifically, or a woman in general?” you carded a hand through his dark locks before smirking at him.

“Both,” he admitted, “not a woman in general because like I said, fuck this romantic bullshit, and definitely not you, because we didn’t start on the best terms when you got here.”

“That was because you were an asshole,” you stuck out your tongue as he just laughed. 

“And you were a bitch,” you nodded at his assessment. Neither of you had been particularly kind to the other upon your first several encounters. Javier was stubborn and hard-headed, you were fierce with a lot to prove in a male dominated world. Opposites on an unwavering spectrum, and yet more alike than either of you cared to admit. That's probably why you'd both been at each other's throats time and time again - you insisted he was a chauvinistic pig; he swore you were an ice queen that just hated everyone.

One thing had led to another and eventually there was a singular moment that broke the proverbial camel's back. It had been a quiet evening with both of you trying to get work done that had led you to say something to Javier to which he had responded with a simple, but calculated, uh huh honey. 

You couldn't even respond with any words, funding yourself utterly unable, before you grabbed the collar of his slightly too tight pink button up and crashing your lips fiercely onto his. He'd responded in kind - eager and more than willing.

That night, which you'd both sworn up and down would be a one time thing, quickly turned into more. More turned into Javier dropping his nighttime visits to the brothels, and focusing on you. More had turned into this.

"I don't think we've really changed," you admitted as you reached for his beer and downed the rest of it in one go with a wicked smirk, "I think we've just come to realize we're good together. In case you haven't noticed babe, I still have to put up with so much shit. Have some tits and men find it fitting to treat you like a piece of meat."

“You know if anyone ever does or says another thing to you, I’ll-”

“I know, Javier,” you promised with a noncommittal shrug of your shoulders, "I just want to be able to do things on my own and be respected. Just like you and Steve and all the other men are."

"You outshine them all easily," he set the spoon down on the edge of the pot, crossing his arms over his broad chest, "they're idiots. You're not - never forget that."

"How very sweet," you rolled your eyes playfully at his dramatic words but you knew he was truthful, "a model boyfriend. You're better at this whole thing than you give yourself credit for."

"Yeah yeah,"  he snorted as he flipped you off, "don't get used to it - or tell anyone. Just for you, Dulzura."

"Don't worry, baby," you shot him a cheeky wink, "our little secret for now."

»»————-　♡　————-««

The door to your apartment was thrown open in anger as you stumbled in, trying to contain your tears of anger. Stumbling over your own feet, you kicked off your heels and cursed them before slamming the door shut and locking it. You weren’t drunk, nowhere near drunk to be honest, but gods did you wish you were. Anything to get the persistent thought of him out of your mind. 

He was the one that fucking cheated, and yet here you were, the one that was suffering. All while he seemed to be having the time of his life. 

A heavy sigh escaped past chapped lips as you dragged yourself to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of beer. One look at the label caused you to audibly groan - even it had to remind you of him. It was his favorite kind, left over from one of the many times he’d brought take out and beer over for an easy dinner after a long day. 

Throwing it into the sink, the bottle shattered and the golden liquid rushed down the drain as you only cried harder. Fuck, fuck, fuck. You shouldn’t still care this much. But that was the root of the problem - you did care. Because you’d loved him, fully and completely and thought he loved you too. A silly, foolish thought. 

Dragging yourself to the couch, you flopped onto your back and covered your wet eyes with the back of your arm as you tried to calm yourself. But it only worked momentarily as you remembered all the times you’d been with him on this couch. 

How he’d pull you into his lap, and kiss you until you were both breathless. How he’d fuck you after a long hard day, coming in to find you ready and waiting for him. How he’d lay down and watch television with you next to him, a messy tangle of limbs and lips. 

How he’d said I love you for the first time on this very couch.

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Javi,” your moan was like the sweetest music in his ear as he leaned down to pepper kisses along your neck and jaw. Your arms wrapped around him like a vice grip as you held his body close to yours while he thrusted into you, “right there, please. Yes.”

"I've got you, baby," he whispered as he dragged his tongue along your collarbone, continuing to meet the roll of your hips with slow thrusts, "you feel so fucking perfect."

"Right there," your eyes squeezed shut as your toes started to curl and your vision became hazy. That familiar warmth of your release washed over your whole body, "Javier."

"Fuck, Dulzura," he dropped his head and rested it in the crook of your shoulder as he felt your walls tighten around him. He moaned in your ear, low and sultry, as your huffed him to your body, "I- fuck - I love you."

And just like that it felt your whole world suddenly stopped. Your eyes snapped wide open as you tried to figure out if what you thought he said was actually said or if it was made up in your mind. But as you met his dark eyes, there was a nervous, panicked look in them. Clearly he hadn't meant to say them out loud.

"Javier?" you reached up and touched his cheek before gently brushing away a stray lock of hair. He keened into your touch as it was enough to push him over the edge and he spilled inside of you. He all but collapsed on you, suddenly boneless, the magnitude of his words not lost on him, "did you mean it? I-I don't want to hear it unless you mean it."

And then it was silent for a few moments as you tried to catch your breath.

"Yes," he finally broke the tension and slowly lifted off you. Pulling out in one fluid motion, he sat back on the couch and pulled you into his lap, "I fucking mean it. I've never said it like this before to anyone, but fuck if I don't mean it."

"Javier,” you leaned and crashed your lips against, hungry and wanting, just as needy as before he fucked you senseless. It was messy and hard, both of you fighting for dominance as his large hand found the back of your neck and he held you close to him, “you’re an asshole. But I love you too.”

“Dulzura,” his hands found your bum as he gave it a firm a squeeze and caused you to grind against him, causing him to moan into your mouth, “fuck me.”

“I plan on it,” you whispered with a smirk on your face as he practically melted into your touch.

»»————-　♡　————-««

You slid off the couch in a fit of your own tears and choked back sobs. How could you fall for such a lie; you felt so stupid, so dumb, so used. You worked for the fucking CIA, you should have been able to spot a lie from a mile away.  But this one, the one right in front of your face, whispered to you during an intimate and sacred moment, had blindsided you and played you for a fool. 

Javier Peña was a fucking liar. He did it for a living half the time; why should this have been any different? Apparently they weren’t. You were just another way for Javier to have control over something and get his pent up anger and energy. 

He had moved on, so easily, so effortlessly, all while you were here, falling apart. You’d never let someone in like this before, had never opened up to someone so fully and completely. 

This was a prime example of why you didn’t.

You pulled yourself up from the floor and wiped at your teary eyes and snotty nose and dragged yourself to the bedroom. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

“What are you thinking about, Dulzura?” his voice was still thick with sleep as he draped an arm around your waist and pulled you against his chest. You made a small sound of delighted surprise, but your eyes were still firmly closed. It was early still and the dawn’s morning light was just beginning to filter in through your sheer curtains.

“‘M sleeping,” you insisted groggily, barely able to contain your giggles as he pressed kisses to your shoulder. 

“Bullshit,” he whispered as you huffed in jest. He could always read you like a book; the truth was that you’d been up for some time, eyes closed as a million thoughts ran through your mind, “you’re much too quiet to be asleep.”

“You realize what you’ve said is an oxymoron, right?”

“When applied to normal people yes, but with you - no,” he called out completely and you slowly turned around so you were facing him. He was right - you tended to make some sort of noises or sounds as you slept. The fact that it was dead silent was a giveaway, “dime, Cariño.”

“It’s nothing important, Javi,” you insisted as you rested your head next to his on the soft pillow. He sighed dramatically as he traced aimless shapes into your back, his fingers surprisingly soft and warm, “in the chaos that are our lives, it’s absolutely trivial and silly.”

“I like trivial and silly - I like you,” he insisted as his soft brown eyes studied yours, “out with it, or it’ll kill me all day, baby.”

“I was just thinking about this,” you pointed to his body and yours, “us. What are we doing? What’ll happen to us when all of this is over and we can be...normal?”

“What do you want to happen?”

“I asked you first, asshole,” you laughed as he kissed your forehead, “I like this - us - but if this is all that there’s ever going to be, I kind of want to know that too.”

“What do you want?” he asked, suddenly adopting a serious, “do you want this? If you want this...I want this too.”

“Javier,” reaching up slowly, you placed a gentle hand on his cheek as you watched him for a few moments before placing a chaste kiss to his plush lips, “I want this...I want you. I’m all in.”

“I know it probably doesn’t seem like much, but you have me,” he promised, and you could feel yourself practically melting into him, “that much you never have to question.”

“I love you,” you whispered before closing your eyes and let him pull against him as you left call you back, “I mean it, Javier. I didn’t think I ever would love anyone, especially not you, but it’s true.”

“I love you too, Dulzura.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

It was all a fucking lie. Your chest rose and fell in anger as you grabbed the few pictures you had of yourself and Javier off of your dresser and smashed them onto the floor. The bed sheets were next, including the pillows that seemed to be doomed to smell like him for all eternity. Everything went into an angry messy pillow on the floor as you trembled with anger and upset exhaustion. 

“Oh god,” you whispered in a choked sob to yourself as you buried your face in your hands. How could it hurt this fucking much? All because of one man. 

Because you loved him so fucking much it made your heart physically ache. Because you loved him with every fiber of your being, Because you had loved him fully and fallen for every single pretty little word he offered you. Because you loved him completely and he had just dumped you as soon as you were no longer shiny and new. As soon as someone else caught his eye.

How easy it had been for him. All the while you had been an oblivious fool.

»»————-　♡　————-««

“I’m going to go and start laundry,” the basket under your arm was full with a combination of your clothes. Javier had been spending more and more time at your apartment, almost like he lived there. And it was all terribly natural; a domestic bliss that effortlessly fell into place. 

“Need a hand?” Javier was busy in the kitchen making dinner for the two of you. There was finally some down time and you’d collectively decided to have a lazy, quiet weekend in.

“I got it,” you promised as you opened the door to head to the laundry, “be back in a few.”

He made a small sound of acknowledgment as you left. You hummed to yourself as you walked down the stairs and into the deserted open, grabbing the first washer you saw. Pulling out the clothes one by one, you placed them in, but confusion quickly hit you. Javier’s work shirts had a...different smell to them. Frowning, you brought the pink button up to your nose and took a good whiff. Immediately, your heart started to pound in your chest as you realized that it most definitely wasn’t your perfume or his aftershave on it. 

Quickly tossing the offending article into the washer, you grabbed another shirt and smelled it again, only to find the same thing. That’s when you realized - those were both shirts he had been wearing on the nights he’d come home extremely late, long after you’d been in bed. 

A sense of dread and doom washed over you like a tidal wave as you abandoned everything and ran up the stairs to your apartment. You burst through the door and Javier jumped at the intrusion as he looked at you with a surprised look on his face, “is everything okay?”

“I don’t know, Javier,” there was a shake to your voice as you closed the door behind you and looked him dead in the eyes, refusing to look away, “tell me - is everything okay?”

“Dulzura-”

“Your shirts,” your voice cracked as you realized you were about to hear the inevitable. You felt like you already knew the truth, but hearing it from his own mouth was what you needed, “they don’t smell like you...o-o-or me. What happened to your shirts, Javier? And you don’t lie to me. Don’t you dare fucking lie to me.”

“If you have to ask, then you already know,” how easily he steeled himself as he set his spoon on the stove and turned off the pot. No emotion crossed his face as he started back at you with a neutral mask; Agent Pena was in full force, “look, dul - what do you want me to say?”

“Something? Anything?” tears had already pearled up and cascaded down your cheeks as you started at him in awe, “tell me you didn’t fucking cheat on me and you’re being this causal about this.”

“Then I won’t say it,” he whispered as he took a step closer, “because you already know.”

“You’re not even going to try and defend your actions?” you felt like this must have been some sort of hysterical joke at your expense. Everything was crumbling down around you and he didn’t even seem to care, “Javier, I love you - I’m….I’m in love with you. Y-you told me you loved me too...that you wanted this.”

“For someone that works for the CIA you're not very observant sometimes,” he shook his head as he took a long breath in and out, “look...I’m not going to try and defend my actions or lie to you. I needed the information you could provide to me so I could get a leg up on your little department. This is a messy game, chiquita, a messy game where you can’t trust anyone and you need to watch your every move. In this game, you win or you die, there’s no other way to look at it. You gave me what I needed, so I gave you what you needed.”

“A lie,” your mind was reeling as you tried to make sense of it all and his words crashed around your ears. None of this was ever real….it was all a lie, a horrid, painful lie. At your expense, “it never meant anything to you.”

“I care about you,” he insisted as you scoffed between your sobs, “and I do want to keep you safe. I just...you had more insight than I could have imagined. It was a good thing while it lasted, right? Why look at this as more than it was?”

“Because I love you!” you shouted at him, “because this was real to me! Because I imagined a life and a future with you. How could you do this? You could have just been honest with me…”

“We both know that never would have worked,” he laughed bitterly, “but think of all the good times, they were real at the time, weren’t they? You were happy…”

“While living a lie,” you reminded him, “it was never real. You never...you never loved me. I should have known that none of this ever meant anything to you.”

“Listen-”

“When would you have told me the truth?”

“Eventually,” he shrugged as he stared at his feet, “we’re not alloted this type of life, this romantic bullshit - we’re just not. You have to accept and move on.”

“Get out,” you couldn’t believe that every good thing in your life for the past year had been a lie. Who else had known? Who else was in on it?

“I will keep you safe,” he promised but you weren’t even sure if you could trust that much. When did his lies start and stop?

“I said get out,” you threw open the door and pointed at it for him to leave, “I never want to see you or hear your voice again. If I do, it will be too soon. I loved you, Javier. I really fucking did. I can’t believe I actually pictured a future with you. I can’t believe I thought I meant a goddamn thing to you. Get out and leave and don’t ever come back.”

“I-”

“Get out!” you screamed as you rushed down the hall to your bedroom and slammed the door closed. You collapsed onto the floor into a fitful, sobbing rage. You heard him igh heavily a few times before the sounds of his retreating footsteps reached your ears and he left, closing the door gently behind him. 

You felt like a fucking fool. Used and hurt and worst of  - heartbroken.

»»————-　♡　————-««

Examining the mess on your floor, you gave it a good kick before leaving the room and your apartment all together. You quickly ran outside and down the few blocks to Javier’s apartment, clutching at the spare key in your pocket. 

You could see that his lights were off, and he likely wouldn’t be home for sometime. You jogged up the stairs and let yourself into his place, sighing at the familiarity of it all. 

It looked exactly like it had the last time you’d been there. Pictures of the two of you were strewn through and you still found your clothes hanging in his closet.

Just like you had done at your own place, you smashed each picture on the floor, making sure it was all utterly destroyed. Your clothes were ripped to shreds and joined the glass rubble. It was probably wrong, probably too childish, but in the moment you didn’t care. Your entire love, your entire future had all been a lie. 

When you were satisfied with your handiwork, you threw the key on top of the pile and walked out, not even bothering to slam the door. You walked back home slowly, soaking in the sights and sounds of the city at night. It was calming - grounding even - usually. But tonight it failed completely. All you could focus on was your ragged breathing and the blood pounding in your ears. 

It all served as a singular reminder.

You were stupid, foolish, and dumb. And now - bitter. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[willowbleedsonpaper]

Winter In The Shade I

Part I

Sirius Black x Ravenclaw Reader

W.C. : 2184

Requested by @amourtentiaa : It is Sirius' fifth year at Hogwarts, the same year he ran away from home and to the Potter's. Soon, he discovers the unfamiliar sight of his brother Regulus smiling and looking truly happy, next to him a Ravenclaw girl who immediately captures his interest. What will happen when the Black family gets involved in their sons lives and the ones they hold close to their hearts?

Warnings: None.

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Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Regulus Black. The boy who was always by himself. He never seemed to smile, never laughed, he never had something funny to say. He looked the way a living statue would, walking around the castle with a monotonous look on his face, a perfect appearance, and the most flat sound of voice. Was he even alive? Many had asked themselves as they watched him walk past them.

You were about to find out he was indeed alive and, even if he wouldn’t admit it himself, in much need of a friend.

It was late at night, several hours after dinner, when you found yourself walking to the library for the fourth time that week. You had an herbology essay to write and were in need of a lot of research if you expected a decent grade, for some reason the exact book you were looking for was always taken, and there was only one copy of said book. Just your luck! At that point you didn’t even stop to ask for the book, just walking to the shelf where you already knew the book was supposed to be.

“Damn it.” you grunted, running your hand over the spines of the books there as you reached the empty space where the book was supposed to be. You lowered your head in exasperation, starting to read over the rest of the titles there to see if one could be of any use. You tilted your head, reading the titles in low murmurs as you walked backwards. “Ouch!” you complained, your hand instantly shooting to the side of your head where the hard feeling of what you saw was a book hit you.

“Are you alright?” asked the boy with a slight furrow of his eyebrows, placing the book he held now on the table as he neared you.

You shook your head lightly, getting the pain out of your head as you gave the boy a soft smile “I’m just fine.” you sighed, running a hand through your face as your eyes landed on the table next to you “No way.” you muttered in surprise, grabbing the book by the table and holding it to his face “Did you just hit me with Flesh-Eating Trees of the World ?”

Baffled, the boy gave you a nod “I believe so.” he said, watching as a smile appeared on your face before he said “I’m… Sorry?”

“Don’t be.” you mused “You won’t be needing this anymore, would you?” you asked, the relieved look on your face as he shook his head making him even more confused but managing to bring the smallest of smiles over his features “Thanks Merlin, I've been looking for this book over four days now.”

“I just managed to get it this morning.” he told you, your mind finally snapping out of its thoughts and more on the boy next to you.

You tilted your head, looking up at him with a kind smile “Well thank you for hitting the side of my head, I really needed it.” you said “And the book, of course.” you chuckled “It’s Regulus, right? Regulus Black.”

He awaited for the inevitable Sirius’ younger brother or any kind or relation to his older brother, but when you said nothing and just stared at him waiting for his answer he limited himself to nod.

You offered your hand to him with a kind look “Y/N Y/L/N.” you introduced yourself, shaking his hand eagerly once he took hold of yours. “I should be going now, but it was really nice talking to you.” you said, grabbing your things and walking away from him. You took one last look at him, waving your hand with a smile as his head followed your movements until you were nowhere to be seen.

His hand felt tingly as if the energy from your person remained in his skin, leaving an almost warm feeling he couldn’t quite place but he found himself looking for even more. He wanted to know more about you.

*******

You spent day and night reading the book, your essay nowhere finished as you still struggled with some of the terms there. You furrowed your eyebrows, scratching the back of your head as you turn the page back “What in Merlin's name is that?” you muttered to yourself as you turned yet another page back, looking for the term you knew but didn’t remember the meaning of. Your eyes were focused over the pages, running your fingers along the lines as you took your quill and a stray piece of parchment, taking quick notes of all the information you needed to remember.

“Healing properties?” you read, writing it down as your face turned into one of disbelief “Don’t know about that one… Side effects, that’s more like it.” you mumbled, writing furiously, not even noticing the scrap of the chair against the floor as someone took the seat in front of you.

“Do you always comment on everything you're reading?”

You rolled your eyes, looking up to see who was disturbing you when your face fell and quickly turned into a surprised one “Regulus.” you breathed out with a smile “I didn’t see you there, How are you?” you asked genuinely, putting your quill down.

“I’m fine.” he said softly, motioning with his eyes to the little mess before you “Still writing the Herbology essay?”

You groaned, letting your head fall back “Sadly, yes.” you sighed “Don’t tell anyone but Herbology isn't my strong suit.”

“Then I won’t bother you any longer.” he said “Do you mind if I sit here?” he asked you and you shook your head, his eyes flashing with a glint you never thought you’d see in his eyes.

For hours, the two of you worked on silence. The ruffling of pages, quills clinking against the bottles of ink and your low murmurs as you read over and over the pages the only sounds that flowed in the air inside the small study bubble the two of you created. At times he would ask you questions, little things he didn’t quite understand and at last, you did the same.

“Regulus?” you called, the hum you got as a response making you continue “You already finished the essay, right?” you asked.

He lifted his eyes slowly, looking at you before he nodded “Yes.” he answered simply “Why?”

You took the book before you and slid it across the table, his eyebrows scrunched together as he followed your finger “Do you think you could explain this to me?” you asked, tapping the line in the book.

He broke into a small smile, nodding his head before he lifted his eyes and met yours “Only if you tell me one thing.” he said, making you curious.

“Alright.” you said doubtfully.

“How long have you been waiting to ask me that?” he asked and your jaw dropped before you could stop it.

“I-I…” you stuttered, the smile on his lips making you even more frustrated “Oh, shut it.” you grunted, fighting the smile that threatened to grow on your lips. But he raised an eyebrow as he returned to his own book, your smile finally breaking as you reached to take the book from him “Really?” you asked.

“You want your answers, I want mine.” he said calmly.

You playfully glared at him, squinting your eyes before you sighed “An hour.” you mumbled, crossing your arms over your chest.

He let out a breathy chuckle, taking the book from your hand “How Ravenclaw of you.” he said under his breath.

You smirked at the comment, leaning down on the table to get a better look of the book as you said “Your one to talk.” you said with an amused look on your face “The Slytherin that had to embarrass me first to help me.”

You both laughed at your attitudes, the smiles now permanent on your faces as the playful bickering never ended. Not that day or any other, it became a habit for the two of you to meet at the same table to study, get homework done and read the entire library out of fun.

There wasn’t a day you didn’t see him, and people started to notice.

“I’m going to the library.” you said, getting up from the spot in the grass you sat at with your friends.

“Going to see Black, again?” One of your friends asked you, the murmurs that rose from all of them making you stop.

“I am.” you said, turning to face them with a daring look “You have a problem with that?” you asked.

“Not at all.” she said, taking a look at the others surrounding her “It’s just… well, he is weird, don’t you think? Always by himself, never talks to anyone. Besides he’s a Black, nothing good can come out of that one, I’ve heard stories….”

“So you do have a problem.” you interrupted her, crossing your arms over your chest firmly “Well, you can keep your stories. And I don’t care if he is always by himself, I really don’t see the problem with that, maybe I’ll start following his example.” you spat, turning in your heel as you started to walk away.

“Y/N!” they called after you “You know we don’t mean it like that.”

“Why do you insist on spending time with him?” one of them asked.

“Because he is my friend!” you yelled, turning one last time to see them “He is my friend and I like spending time with him.” You awaited for their replies, squinting your eyes as they just stared at you with wide eyes, or what you thought it was you until you followed their gaze over your shoulder “What?” you snapped, turning sharply to find none other than Regulus standing behind you.

“Regulus.” you breathed out, letting your shoulders relax as he locked eyes with you.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“Just fine.” you muttered, taking his arm and linking it with yours “I was just leaving.”

Arms linked together, you walked the halls of Hogwarts in silence, the tension in your body only rising as he stayed silent. “Wait.” you said, letting go of him as you literally let your body fall to the floor, sitting in the middle of the empty hallway “I need a moment.”

Regulus limited himself to stare at you, sitting on the floor with a furious hand running through your hair. Next thing he knew he was sitting next to you, playing with his hands.

“What are you doing?” you said suddenly, raising your head with a questioning look on your face.

He squinted his eyes “Waiting for you?” he said doubtfully.

You were supposed to be angry, not with him, but you were angry. Then why were you laughing, Regulus asking himself the same question. It didn’t take long for him to start laughing with you. It was a sight to be seen: Both of you sitting in the middle of the hall laughing.

“I’m sorry about what they said.” you said, after you both had calmed down and had spent a few minutes in silence “I really don’t know if you heard anything but… well, I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize.” he said “I don’t care what they say. It was what you answered that I cared about.” he admitted, reaching for your hand to give it a firm squeeze “You’re my only friend.”

You smiled at that, returning the squeeze with a chuckle “You’re my only friend too.” you said, thinking about all the things that you had done together, days spent only with the other, the small jokes and things only the two of you understood “Best friend, actually.”

“Best friend.” he repeated, with a smile.

*******

Sirius Black couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw it. One afternoon, running away from Professor Mcgonagall, he took a left turn that got him separated from his friends, the familiar laughter he thought belonged to them getting him to an empty hall.

He was about to call for James, running out of a hall only to duck his head and run back to where he couldn’t be seen, his back flat on the stone wall. He was too far away to hear the words coming out of their mouths, but that wasn’t what he was more shocked about. He listened carefully, not catching anything but the carefree sound of their voices.

He took a quick glance, watching as Regulus helped the girl to her feet, linking their arms together as they walked away, the blue scarf and Y/H/C the only thing he got from the girl next to him.

Sirius wandered the halls dumbfounded, his attention no longer on the present as a body collided against his chest, the only reason he wasn’t on the floor because James held onto his shoulders. “Pads!” James said cheerfully, his face falling as he got no response “Padfoot?” he asked “You alright?”

Sirius’ eyes met with the concerned look of his friend “I saw my brother.” he blurted out “He was smiling.”

TAGS

Skittles

@iwritesiriusly / @trinimalfoyyy /

Marauders

@destourtereaux

[hufflepuffhollander]

shirtgate: tom holland imagine

a/n | i finally did it! i wrote a thing without angst! i have grown so much as a person. anyway this is my third and final (☹️) submission for @hollandsrecs​ 1k bingo event, crossing off the “accidental relationship reveal” trope square. this has been a super fun challenge and everything i’ve written for it i’ve actually been v proud of so thank you all for the continued support :)

summary | it is pretty obvious — you accidentally tell the whole world about your relationship with your costar Tom Holland.

tom x fem costar!reader | contains language, fluff, heavily suggestive dialogue | word count: 1.8k | enjoy!

“Babe, have you seen my shirt?”

A strong pair of arms snake around your waist.

“Why do you need a shirt?”

You slip around and lace your fingers behind your boyfriend’s neck, blushing at his sly smile.

“As flattered as I am, I don’t think my publicist will be very pleased seeing pictures in the papers tomorrow of me walking around naked.”

He ran his hands up and down your bare back and leaned in to kiss your neck, making you shiver in the best way.

“Ooh, I would buy the hell out of those photos.”

“You’re such a weirdo, Tom.”

“You love it.”

“Maybe. Where is my shirt?!”

“Just borrow one of mine,” he said, going to his closet and pulling one of his favorite spider-man t-shirts from the back. You draped it over you and reveled in being enveloped in his scent while Tom frowned at the loose cotton now hanging over you.

You walked over to him sitting on the edge of his bed and straddled his hips, lazily putting your arms on either one of his shoulders. The smell of your perfume mixed with his laundry detergent blissfully dizzied him, and he couldn’t stop thinking about how the only thing between your bare bodies was a thin piece of fabric- but his pout stayed put.

You noticed the drop in his mood. “What, I don’t look good in gray?”

“You look amazing in it, darling. I just wish you didn’t have to leave,” he exaggerated his expression, toying with the bottom hem of the shirt, exposing a few inches of your bare belly. You kissed his nose and pushed him back on the mattress, leaning over and propping yourself up on your hands. His eyes continued to roll over you, the sunshine filtering in through the slats in his blinds casting a glowing sheen across you that he couldn’t peel his eyes away from.

“I’ll be back later,” you said, dragging one finger slowly down his chest. “And you can take it off again then.” You finished your sentence with a smirk and a boop to the nose, got up, and went to finish getting dressed. Tom stayed there with his jaw slacked, cursing his better judgement for not tackling you and using his charm to convince you to stay.

“Oh, you better believe I’ll be doing a lot more than that,” he huffed, swallowing hard, trying to figure out what the hell he was going to do with himself until he could get his hands on you later.

~

“...and this is the room where it happens!” you pan your camera around your bedroom to show all of the fans who were watching your live story. You had promised them a tour of your new apartment once it was all moved into, and with a fan base as big as you had, you couldn’t disappoint, even if you would’ve much preferred being tangled up with Tom right now than showing millions of strangers your throw pillows. But your relationship was to be kept completely off the books, out of the media and only inside the comfort of your own homes, with the exception of your close friends. You both knew what kind of drama it would spark if you went public this soon after your movie release, and wanted to live in your little private bubble of normalcy as long as you could. When you expose your love to the world, things just get messy- and right now, you were content with everything being divinely simple.

Feedback poured in onto your tiny screen.

“wooowww so jealous!!!”

“your house is beautiful 😍😍”

“hiiii y/n! show us more!”

You scrolled through the comments on your live-stream, laughing and responding to some questions people asked.

“Yes, my dog lives here with me!”

“Ohmygod, no, Chris Evans does not live in my basement! Did he tell you that?!”

You floated from room to room giving the tour, and eventually made your way to your impeccably organized closet, opening the doors and flipping your camera to show the live audience the inside. And right there, sticking out like a sore thumb on top of your white dresser, was one neatly folded gray spider-man shirt- normally spotted on Mr. Tom Holland. It was unmistakeable. The comments started flooding in before you could even turn the closet light off.

“wait a second- is that TOM’S SHIRT?!”

“omgomgomg-“

“yoooo i knew it, y/n and tom 😍😍”

“wtf?!? are they DATING???”

You realized what you’d just done a second too late, immediately came up with an excuse as to why you had to close the tour, and ended the livestream, heart beating out of your chest. Not even a minute later, you got a call from Tom; you almost threw your phone across the room.

“...Hello?”

“Hey, hi, y/n, uh, what did you just do?”

“Tom, I swear I didn’t mean to-“

“Baby, it’s alright. Just…what- what happened?”

“They saw. They saw it. All of them. Your stupid shirt. On my stupid fucking dresser. I’m so sorry, how do they even know what all of your shirts look like, that’s so fucking weird-“

Your mouth couldn’t keep up with your brain you were so flustered, and all you heard on the other end of the line was Tom chuckling softly, which only confused you even more.

“Are you- are you laughing? Because I’m having a heart attack,” you half-muttered, sitting down with your heavy head in your hands. It was pounding with panic and confusion and couldn’t hold itself upright any longer.

“Take a breath, y/n. The world isn’t ending-”

“Yes it is!” you teared up, feeling your phone buzzing out of control in your palm.

“Baby, no it’s not. Stay there and I’ll be over in 5.” Tom hung up the phone and you went to check your texts, every app under the sun pouring in with notifications of screenshots and callouts about what you had just revealed. When Tom finally knocked on your front door, you basically fell apart in his arms before he made it past the threshold.

“Tom, I’m freaking out, everyone is saying we’re-” he cut you off with an unexpectedly sweet kiss, this proving to be the only thing that could get you to stop panic-rambling. Your eyes fluttered shut against your mind’s wishes to keep pumping with adrenaline.

“Yes, darling, most people are speculating all over the internet that we’re an item because they saw your livestream,” he said, walking you to your couch and sitting down, guiding you to sit on his lap. “You have a much bigger following than I thought.” he grinned at you, but all you could do was frown back.

“Oh, god. I ruined everything.”

“No, you didn’t. It was about time people started knowing I was off the market,” Tom said, running a soothing hand through your hair as you continued to pout at him. 

“...Really?”

“Yes! I mean, it’s just cruel that I’ve had all this to myself-”—he gave your body a once-over—“and couldn’t show it off, y’know.”

That got you to crack a small smile, and Tom capitalized on that moment and pushed you down onto the couch to hover over you, peppering you with obnoxious kisses. Admittedly, he’d made a valiant effort to distract you, but you playfully swatted at him to get off because you were nowhere near done being dramatic about this. 

“Okay, so wait, you’re — Tom, stop that — you’re not upset?” You found your previous spot etched into his lap and settled back down, interlocking your hands and playing with his slender fingers.

“Actually, no, I’m not,” he said, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. “Thought I would be, but, honestly? It feels good, love. I don’t have to hide you anymore. I never wanted to in the first place.”

You gave him an audible awww and snuggled into his chest, wrapping your arms around him and trying your best to squeeze him until he popped. “I’m sorry it couldn’t happen on your own terms, though, it was just a dumb mistake,” you sighed into his shirt.

“Are you kidding? The fans are eating this up. They’re dubbing it ‘shirtgate’,” he laughed and shrugged again, “I don’t even know what that means.”

You giggled into his chest and brought your face back up to his, kissing his forehead, then nose, then lips. You went for a deeper kiss the second time, but he interrupted you.

“Although, I did tell you y’should’ve just stayed shirtless.”

You feigned offense at what he said and instinctively covered your chest by crossing your arms over one another.

“Well good luck getting me shirtless now, Holland.”

“Excuse me?!”

“What a horrible time to prove a point!”

You both laughed as he tried to wrestle your arms apart, but they didn’t budge. You gave an impressive fight, but Tom got the better of you, and ended up throwing you over his shoulder from the couch and carrying you upside-down into your bedroom. You seized your opportunity and pinched two handfuls of his butt, chuckling.

“Hey, I like the view.”

“Did you just grab my ass?!”

He dropped you down onto your bed and walked away, coming back in with his gray shirt and throwing it at you.

“Put it on, babe.”

You obliged all while staring at him puzzled as he twiddled away on his phone. Once you were dressed, he sat down next to you, put his phone up to face you both, and turned on his instagram live.

“Tom! What are you-” you gasped but had to stop speaking as thousands of people were already tuning into his stream.

“Hey, everybody! Me and y/n here. We know there has been some buzz going around about this shirt,“ he pointed to you and you smiled awkwardly. “and wanted to set the record straight.” Tom put his arm around your shoulders and you were suddenly in the foreground of the screen.

“Yes, it is mine. And she does look amazing in gray, doesn’t she?” you started to giggle and blush incessantly as he kissed your cheek, gave a casual wave goodbye, and shut off his phone.

“Uh, what did you just do?”

“Gave ‘em something to talk about.” he flipped his phone onto silent, grinned and came back over to you, fingers already fussing with the oversized shirt, starting to tug it upwards.

“We’re so screwed.” you said eliciting a laugh from him, leaning back so he could take in more of your features that he loved oh-so much.

“So, you know me, I’m on the record as loving you in this shirt,” he said, his voice already sounding lower, softer, huskier.

“Mmhmm,” you played along.

“But I’d like it much better off again.”

[notquitetwilight]

THE CULLANOS: A TASTE OF BOSTON, PART TWO

The Cullanos continue taking care of business in Boston. Warning: this story contains graphic violence and sexual references (no smut, just truly cursed references). Previous instalment

Esme breathed shakily as she walked hand-in-hand with her husband past brownstone after brownstone. The street was deserted; it was just the two of them and the parked cars that lined their path. Her thoughts seemed to scream louder in the silence as she mentally willed that the daughter they left behind would be safe.

“S’like Brooklyn down here,” Carlisle said absentmindedly, keeping his voice low. When she didn’t answer, he looked at her, suddenly noticing her unease. “What’s the matta, baby?”

“I think…” she trailed off, unsure. She wasn’t used to being nervous. But she couldn’t shake the image of Rosalie’s wide eyes right before she had left her in the car. They were the same shade of blue as Carlisle’s, the type that seemed cold and piercing when narrowed, but inviting enough to swim in when widened. Though she’d never have admitted it, Esme knew she was afraid. And that made her afraid.

“I’m not sure we should’ve brought her.”

He frowned. “Rosie?”

She rolled her eyes. “No, our other child we were recently reunited with. Who else?”

“She wanted to come,” he said, raising a shoulder.

“So? If she said she wanted to do crack, would you let her?”

“Depends on whether or not she’d share,” he grinned.

“Carl, I’m serious,” she said, her voice cracking a little, which surprised both of them.

He squeezed her hand. “She’s a smart girl, Ezzie. She knows the drill.”

“Still, if somethin’ goes wrong—“

“It won’t.”

“If it does, I don’t…” she stopped in her tracks, feeling like she couldn’t take in air as quickly as her body needed her to. She closed her eyes as she tried to level her breathing. “If somethin’ were to happen to her, I don’t know what I’d do. I’d never forgive myself. Or you.”

She opened her eyes to find him looking a little wounded. “I thought this was what you wanted. Her here, with us.”

“It is,” she said, starting to walk again. “But all this is also why we gave her up in the first place, right?”

He groaned quietly. “Not this again.”

That infuriated her. She let go of his hand and made a great effort to keep the volume of her voice low in her response. “I’m sorry, is my fear for our daughter’s safety inconveniencin’ you?”

“I can’t keep doin’ this,” he said with a sigh. “Over and over, I keep tryin’ to make you happy, and over and over, I feel like I’m failin’. Because I don’t know what you want. Because you don’t know what you want.” He spoke so calmly, so matter-of-factly, without a hint of malice. She balked at him.

“What?” was all she managed.

“You want me, but you don’t want me. So I try move on. Twice. When ya do want me, I’m there in a heartbeat. You want our daughter, but you don’t want our daughter, so I give up my chance to be a dad to her. But then you do want her, but only from a distance, so we torture ourselves watchin’ other people raise her. Then you want her, fully want her, so I bring her back to us, and ever since I did you’ve been sayin’ maybe we shoulda left her as she was. I don’t know what else to do. I feel like I can’t make you happy no matta what. Maybe you were right, all those times ya said family life wasn’t for you. Ya seem a lot less happy since we became one.”

She gritted her teeth and glared up at him, ready to risk their cover in screaming at him. Yet her anger dissolved immediately upon seeing his face. He looked…sad. Truly, hopelessly sad, the type that usually only came with grief. Only she was allowed to see him this vulnerable, and only she had seen him wear this same expression just twice before: the day of his mother’s funeral, and the day they gave Rose up.

She had never considered how all of it might have looked to him, how what she said or did could be misinterpreted. She just assumed he knew where her head was at, because she always knew where his was at. But it suddenly occurred to her that she knew everything he thought because he spoke everything he thought to her. He knew her well, better than anyone else did, but he wasn’t a mind-reader. And while she believed herself to be a relatively good communicator, she knew she was nowhere near as good as him.

“There it is,” he muttered, interrupting her thoughts. He came to a halt and nodded to the dark grey brownstone a little ahead of them, the last on the street.

She frowned. “That’s...their house?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s attached to other buildin’s,” she said flatly.

“Guess that’s what silencers are for.”

He started for the Ivanov residence while rooting in one of his pockets, but she pulled at his arm. “Carl.”

He let her grip lead him to face her, but he looked at his feet, kicking the ground.

“Look at me,” she said softly. His head stayed down and his forehead remained creased.

“Baby?” she tried. He raised his head to meet her eyes then, and she couldn’t help but smile with relief. He was usually the one for terms of endearment, so the rare times she used them, she got his full attention.

“I’m not...less happy,” she started, unsure of how to explain herself.

“You don’t sound so sure.”

“I am sure! Give me a chance. I’m much more happy, one hundred per cent. But I’m also much more worried. And maybe that’s what looks bad. Maybe I’m not handlin’ it right, I dunno. But I’m not used to bein’ worried. I’m not used to bein’...scared. And I am, Carl. For the first time in my life, I’m fuckin’ terrified. Almost 24/7.”

The line between his eyebrows deepened. “I don’t get it,” he shook his head the slightest bit. “Why? You’ve never been the anxious type.”

“That’s what I’m tryin’ to say,” she gripped onto his forearms and gently shook them. “I’ve never been scared because I only had myself to worry about. And I didn’t care what happened to me, or what kinda shit I got myself into. The money and the good time was worth it. Everything was carefree and I didn’t wanna be tied down. But it got to the point where I wasn’t...happy anymore. I think that’s where the Charles thing came from. You got married for the first time and I hated it. And it was my own fault, because I said no to you, but it was only when I saw what you had without me that I realised I wanted that, too. So I married that asshole and then that went to shit. Had me kinda believin’ I wasn’t meant to have that family life. And then it was back to square one; you askin’ me to marry you, me sayin’ no, you gettin’ married to someone else and me hatin’ it again.

“But I just continued doin’ what I wanted, not carin’, until that day she walked in on us in the kitchen. I don’t think I’ve ever hated anyone the way I hated her that day. It was like, all of a sudden I realised that even though you were mine, you were officially hers on paper. She was the wife, I was the goomar. And I fuckin’ hated it and I fuckin’ hated her and I wanted it to just be fuckin’ done with already. And then she was dead and you were askin’ me to marry you again and it felt so right to finally fuckin’ say yes. And I think I started to feel a little bit like the stakes were higher after we made it official, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as it is now. Not as bad as it’s been since Rosie came. We worked so hard for her to trust us, for her to want to stay with us. And now the three of us are finally together as a proper family. It might not be a ‘Brady Bunch’ scenario, but it’s us. It’s like, the last piece of the puzzle finally clicked into place, and now I’m waitin’ for it to fall apart. So you’re right, I’ve never been the anxious type. But I never had anything to lose. Now I do — I have everything to lose. And I don’t know what I’d do if I lost it.”

He wiped away a tear she hadn’t noticed rolling down her cheek and pulled her into him. She gasped for breath after rambling for so long. “Why didn’t you say?” he mumbled against her hairline, then kissed the top of her forehead.

“I dunno. Maybe I thought you knew already. Or maybe I didn’t wanna sound stupid.” She sighed and fully leaned into him, her cheek against his chest. This way, she was facing the Ivanov house, and it registered with her that there was the tiniest sliver of light visible through a gap in one window’s heavy curtains.

“That doesn’t sound stupid at all,” he stroked the back of her head. “It’s a relief, actually. I thought maybe you were gettin’ bored of it all. Of us.”

“Never,” she said, tearing her eyes away from the house so she could lift her head to look at him. “You’re my person, forever.”

“And she’s our person, that we made,” he smiled. “Isn’t that fuckin’ crazy, when ya think about it?”

“But isn’t that— doesn’t that make you scared? I’ve seen how much you adore her. Why aren’t you worried, like me?”

“I just...trust in my gut. And my gut says none of us are dyin’ for a long, long time.”

“That’s it?” she asked without snark. She was genuinely fascinated by his complete lack of concern for their safety.

“Yeah. I have faith in us. We’re not dumb, we’re not new to this, we’re good both as individuals and as a team. And like you said, there’s more to lose now, so there’s more to fight for. Think of how unstoppable you were when you didn’t give a shit. Can you imagine anyone bein’ able to stop you now that you do?”

“Guess not,” she said, feeling a smile growing across her face. She was still worried, but she felt much better. There was a lot of sense in what he said. His words did their job in comforting her, as they often did.

“I love you,” she said, pulling at his neck to bring his face down to hers. “You always know the right thing to say.”

She kissed him then, slowly and expressively at first. But she quickly began to lose herself in it, and her fingers found themselves running through his hair. He let out a soft groan before pulling away and grinning at her.

“Later, baby. We have a job to do.” He glanced at his Rolex and his face dropped. “Shit. We’re a lil’ behind schedule. Alice’ll be waitin’.”

She nodded and pointed at the house as the two of them began walking again. “Someone’s up, too.”

He squinted at the window as they both rooted around in their pockets for their earpieces. They stopped a little short of the brownstone as they put them in.

“You ready?” he whispered, taking her hand again and bringing it to his lips to kiss it.

She nodded once more, and the two of them turned on their earpieces.

“About tiiiiiiiiiiiime,” Alice sang the second they were connected. “You’re late. By five minutes!”

“A queen is never late,” Esme said, her speaking volume lower than Carlisle’s whisper had been. “Everyone else is simply early.”

“Did Madame Mafia just quote ‘the Princess Diaries’ to me?” Alice asked with mock shock.

Carlisle tilted his head and raised his brows.

“Rose showed it to me last weekend,” Esme answered defensively. “We were...bondin’.”

He smirked and turned away from her, eyeing up the house in front of them. “Okay Alice, how’re we doin’?”

“Strangely, no guards — not on the property, anyway. That’s not like them at all. I partly wondered if they were hanging around the area and you ran into a few, because you were late, but I guess not since you’re alive and calm. As for the Ivanovs themselves, two are home: Katarina and Garrett. I have eyes everywhere except the bathrooms, so unless the rest of the family and an army of cronies are hiding in showers, this should be pretty easy.”

The words were like music to Esme’s ears. Her shoulders immediately relaxed, and she finally began to feel excited. She beamed at Carlisle, who gave her a knowing smile and mouthed “see?” in return.

“That’s what I like to hear, Al,” he said. “And you’ll be able to shut their camera system down once we’re out?”

“Of course. Once you’re out and alive, it’s gone.”

“Great. So, they’re still up?”

“Unfortunately,” Alice groaned.

“Don’t worry about us Al, that makes it more fun.”

“I wasn’t saying ‘unfortunately’ because I don’t think you can handle them. I was saying ‘unfortunately’ because over the past half hour, I’ve seen some shit. And that’s saying a lot, considering I work for you two.”

Esme and Carlisle exchanged a look, the pair of them frowning.

“What do you mean?” she asked her.

“I mean I want a raise,” Alice grumbled, causing Carlisle to break into another smile.

“Ahh...they’re in a bedroom?”

“That idea, yes. But wrong room. The living room’s where you’re heading for. Second floor. The ground floor is more like an empty hall, kinda like those malls that don’t really start ‘til you go up the escalator. There’s an elevator, but obviously that’ll make noise, so you should take the stairs.”

“That’a girl. Did you see if they’re armed?”

“As far as I can tell, no. There’s a shit tonne of guns and what appear to be Molotov cocktails in the bedrooms, so don’t give them a chance to go running. I can’t see any weapons in the living room. But I mean you guys know, the likelihood that they’ve got something concealed somewhere — either in the room or on them — is 50/50.”

“Yeah, true. Thanks. I guess that’s our cue.”

“Alrighty. Good luck! I’ll be right here in your ears the whole time.”

The pair of them readied their weapons and clinked the tip of their guns together in salute as they always did.

“Ladies first,” he smiled at her, and he let her lead the way.

Back in the car, Rosalie leaned into her headrest after checking her timer for the umpteenth time. She had set it the second the couple disappeared from view and found herself checking it every minute or so since. There was nothing else to do. She didn’t want to get distracted by her phone in case trouble was around. She couldn’t play music, because she neither wanted to attract attention nor miss anything she’d need to hear. All she could do was wait in the silence, and every second that ticked by felt like an hour.

She almost jumped out of her skin when her phone noisily vibrated on the dashboard. She grabbed it in a panic as though it was loud enough to wake the whole street, but once it was in her hand, she simply stared at it. Royce. Of course. She should’ve known her on-again off-again boyfriend would be the only person to ring her at this hour. She let it ring out, then shifted in her seat to make herself comfortable. The second she did, her phone began to vibrate again. With an eye roll, she brought it up to her ear.

She was immediately met with loud sounds that caused her to wince and pull the phone back slightly. A baseline thudded, so she knew he was out, but the sound was too distorted for her to tell if he was at a club or a party.

“Hello?” she asked, beginning to wonder whether the calls had been accidental. A muffled voice finally spoke, though it said nothing comprehensible.

“Royce, is that you? I can’t hear you,” she tried, keeping her voice low. She wasn’t going to up the volume she had maintained just because he called her from a loud place.

“ROSE!” Royce boomed from the other end of the phone, causing her to wince again. “Come...c’mere. M’over...s’funnn.”

The combination of the loud atmosphere, poor connection and slurred words made it difficult to understand.

“Royce, I don’t know what you’re saying. You know I’m not even in New York or Jersey right now, right? Remember I told you?”

“M’over...” he said again before saying something intelligible.

She was losing patience. “You’re drunk again, and I don’t know what you’re saying. I can’t talk right now, okay? I’ve gotta go.”

He started shouting incoherently. The only thing she made out before hanging up on him was the word ‘bitch’.

She inhaled deeply and checked the timer again. They’d been gone seventeen minutes and 48 seconds. Esme had said to leave after the forty minute mark. She shuddered at the idea of having to drive off without them, wondering whether or not she’d be able to do so if that’s what it came to. It was hard to imagine life beyond them now, though they’d only been connected for a little over a year. She stared out the windshield, biting the inside of her cheek, and felt her phone vibrate again.

Huffing, she thrust it up against her ear. “I said I can’t talk!” she hissed.

It was dead silent. There was none of the noise of the previous call. For a split second, she wondered if she had accidentally hung up.

“Rosalie?” asked a clear, deep voice after a beat.

She paused. “Yes?” she said in a small voice.

“Oh, it is you, thank god!” Relief flooded her as she recognised the voice as Emmett’s. “I was a lil’ confused for a second there. Thought maybe I dialled the wrong number.”

“Sorry Emmett. I— I thought you were somebody else.”

“No prahblem, no prahblem.”

“Is everything okay? If you’re calling me because you couldn’t reach the lovebirds, they’re not back yet.”

“No, no,” he said. “I just wanted to check in and say hi while the two ‘a them are gone. Y’know, just makin’ sure you’re holdin’ up okay on your first big job.”

“Thanks,” she said, a little bitterly.

He must’ve picked up on her tone, because there was another pause. “Uh, sorry to bother you.”

“I’m not pissed at you, I’m pissed at them for thinking I need to be checked up on. I told them I’d be fine.”

“Huh? Nobody asked me to. I just wanted to.”

“Oh,” she said awkwardly, but the corners of her mouth tugged up.

“Yeah. It’s just, I remember how scared I was on my first big job.”

“I’m not scared,” she insisted, back to frowning.

“No? Then you’re a braver soul than I am. I was scared shitless.”

“Really? Carlisle never said.”

“Because he doesn’t know,” Emmett laughed. She didn’t know a sound could be so warm. “I held it together pretty well. But when all was done, he dropped me off at the corner of my block, and I waited for his car to disappear before pukin’ my damn guts up all over the sidewalk.”

She was the one laughing then. She leaned her head against the window as a silence fell over them.

“Okay, maybe I am a little worried,” she said quietly. “Time seems to be dragging by. Esme told me to leave if they’re not back within forty minutes. I obviously don’t want to have to even think about doing that.”

“Of course, of course,” he said. “Honestly though, I’m sure she said it as a precaution, and they’ll be back to ya in no time. You haven’t seen your parents in action. Let’s just say I’m glad I work for them, because I’d hate to be against them.”

“Thanks,” she said again, more sincerely this time.

“And it’s okay to be scared. It’s completely normal. The people who are never scared— those are the mad bastahds you gotta watch out for. Because you gotta be batshit crazy to never know fear.”

“Carlisle’s never scared,” she smiled.

“Well, there ya go, see!” Rosalie could hear the smile in his voice, too. “Case in fuckin’ point!”

She found herself laughing again. It came so easily to her when she spoke to him.

“I better get goin’, letcha get back to it.”

“Okay,” she said. “And thanks, Emmett. I think that helped.”

“No prahblem,” he said again.

“Unless Esme and Carlisle did put you up to this, in which case, no it didn’t.”

“I swear’ta gahd, Rosie, neither of them even know. I had to get your number from Alice.”

Rosie. He had picked that up from Carlisle. It was strange how much she’d come to like a nickname she initially detested.

“‘Kay. Well, thanks again.”

“You have my number now, too,” he said, sounding suddenly serious. “I’ll be right here at the other end of the phone, anytime you need me, ahrite?”

“Does that include if in twenty-or-so minutes’ time I have to decide whether or not to leave my long-lost parents for dead?”

“You betcha.”

“Great!”

He laughed. “Take care, Rosie.”

“Bye, Emmett.”

She hung up the call and resisted the urge to check the timer just yet. A new-found calmness had come over her, and she wanted to bask in it a little while longer.

“Is she beating him to death?” Carlisle whispered up at his wife as she reached the top of the stairs to the Ivanov’s second floor. Alice had been right, they ran into no extra bodies on their way in. And though she was several states away, she had disarmed the entrance’s security with ease.

“No,” Alice answered with a sigh before Esme could. “I think that might actually have made for easier viewing.”

“Don’t be such a prude,” Carlisle quietly teased.

“I’ll have you know, this isn’t your average spank session,” Alice scolded.

“Well now I’m curious,” Esme said, straining to listen. “Is this somethin’ I’m gonna wanna take note of?”

“Ugh, knowing you, probably,” came the answer in her ear.

Esme looked back to smirk at Carlisle.

“Damn,” he muttered. “Shoulda brought a pen.”

“I’ll take mental notes,” she promised.

“And if that fails, you can use the notes my therapist will have taken after I’ve word-vomited all this to her while rocking back and forth,” Alice announced.

Carlisle took his place beside Esme at the top of the stairs and slipped an arm around her waist. The long hallway ahead of them was windowless, its red and gold-patterned wallpaper interrupted by the occasional closed door. Still, it was brightly lit by the two massive chandeliers that hung from its high ceiling. To their left was the unit for the elevator. Carlisle waved at the little CCTV camera above it, prompting a laugh from Alice. Behind them was another set of stairs that led to higher floors they wouldn’t see. The Persian carpet that stretched the length of the hall floor would come in handy to muffle their footsteps.

“Up ahead, the second door on the left is the kitchen,” Alice told them. “It’s got a pass-through and an open plan door to the living room, so be careful.”

“‘Kay,” was all Esme dared to respond as Carlisle let her go. She crept forward.

The pair of them silently edged along the wall, the voices from the living room growing louder as they got closer. Esme stopped at the kitchen door and brought her pistol up to her chest. The pair of them concentrated on the voices inside.

“Alright, swap,” Katarina said. “It’s my turn to rest.”

There were two thuds, and then her voice mingled with a man’s as both began chant-like muttering. Esme couldn’t make out what they were saying.

Carlisle tapped her on the shoulder. When she looked at him, he mouthed, “praying?” with a confused frown.

She paused to listen and confirm, then nodded. He was right, though it left her no less confused. The muttering stopped, and there was some shuffling of feet. The sounds of slapping and groaning resumed, but this time they could tell Katarina was the receiver.

She nudged him and put her gun-free hand on the door handle. With his nod of approval, she slowly pushed it down and opened the door at an acute angle.

“You’re all clear here,” Alice told her, but she gave a quick glance around it anyway to get her bearings. The kitchen was reasonably small for such a big house, and it looked as though it had been home to a frat party. Mess, clutter and countless empty bottles of Absolut Vodka littered every surface. The pass-through was a few feet ahead on her left.

Tip-toeing inside, she immediately grabbed her other gun so she had one in each hand. Both of them made their way to the side of the pass-through as Garrett was saying something about Christ. They hunkered down, then crawled under it, and shimmied out of their heavyweight coats as quietly as possible.

Esme was about to rise slightly up when Carlisle touched her arm. “Only shoot if you have to,” he mouthed slowly so she’d get every word.

The two of them rose and peeped through together. Esme had been right; Garrett was sat on a chair with Katarina bent over his legs as he repeatedly slapped her backside. Still, he mumbled about “the Lord” this and “Jesus” that. Esme looked at Carlisle quizzically.

“Feel the hand of God,” Garrett suddenly half-shouted in comparison to his previous volume. “Who has the most lovin’ hand of all, Kate?”

“God, through you,” Katarina answered him.

“What the fuck is this?” Carlisle breathed, just about audible. “It’s like watchin’ Barbie get an exorcism.”

Esme pressed her lips together to contain a laugh, mentally cursing him. With Katarina’s long blonde hair and baby pink Adidas tracksuit, he wasn’t far off the mark.

“It’s called CDD,” Alice informed. “Short for ‘Christian Domestic Discipline’. The whole religion thing stumped me too when I saw them praying, because like, they’re not even the same religion, right? She’s presumably Orthodox and he’s gotta be Catholic. Anyway, I googled ‘pray spanking’ and found that. Apparently it’s a movement that started as like, a ‘women are inferior in Christian marriages and should treat their husbands like God himself’ thing, but naturally, it got turned into a kink.”

The two of them exchanged a look again and sank back down to their hunkers. Carlisle gestured out their route around the corner of the wall they were now up against and through the open plan door. He pointed to her and made a finger gun, then pointed to himself and pulled out a rope from one of his coat pockets. She nodded once and rounded the corner with her guns raised right as Garrett’s head looked in that direction.

“Don’t move,” she warned, one pistol aimed at his head and the other aimed at Katarina’s.

They both froze, his hand mid-air. Esme stalked closer as Carlisle moved behind them.

“Off the chair,” he commanded. “And putcha hands behind your head.”

They did as they were told and knelt on the ground. Carlisle patted Garrett down and began tying him while Esme came to Katarina’s side. The blonde swallowed tightly. When Carlisle was finished with Garrett, he moved onto her.

“Don’t fuckin’ touch her,” Garrett said as he patted, making Esme smile. As if he’d be able to stop them with his hands and feet tied.

“Whadiya take me for?” Carlisle asked. “I don’t hurt women.”

“Mhmm,” Esme agreed, tracing the side of Katarina’s face with the tip of her pistol. “This one’s all mine.”

Garrett helplessly flopped in Esme’s direction from his place on the floor.

“Easy now,” Carlisle said, finishing up with Katarina and moving to crouch down beside him. “I said I wouldn’t hurt your girl, and you repay me by goin’ for mine?”

Garrett stared blankly ahead. Carlisle tilted his chin up with his gun to meet his eyes.

“It wouldn’t be the first time you double-crossed though, would it? There was our Kiev deal, then the small matter of you murderin’ your own pal. Lettin’ his kid grow up without a father. What kinda person does that, huh? Ya know, I might be a lotta things. But I know where my loyalties lie. And I’d never betray a friend. Even people like us have rules, and that’s one of ‘em.”

“You wanna talk about the loyalty of friends?” Katarina piped up, prompting Esme to hold her pistol against her head. “You might want to look closer to your own circle.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Esme asked, her eyes narrowed.

“You haven’t wondered where the others are?” Garrett smiled. “They’re actually in your neck of the woods. Meeting with some of your buddies. Ironic really, isn’t it? You come all the way here hoping to kill Tati, only for her to be in your area.”

Alice gave a “hmm” as Carlisle’s eyes flickered to meet Esme’s, then settled back on Garrett’s face. Neither of them could tell whether or not he was trying to throw them, but both understood not to let him.

“We didn’t come here to kill Tatiana,” Esme said cooly. “Any single one ‘a yous woulda done. Instead we got two. I call that a success.”

“Do you?” Katarina cooed. “I wouldn’t be that confident ‘til all of us are dead. Especially if I had a daughter who didn’t know how to shoot.”

Carlisle felt the colour drain from his face. Esme immediately yanked Katarina down by the hair until her cheek hit the floor, then placed a knee on her back.

“What the fuck does your family know about my daughter?” She growled into her ear. “Tell me everything you know and how you know it.”

“It’s hardly a secret,” Katarina said, the words muffled against yet another Persian rug. “You’ve been paradin’ her — what’s her name, Rose or something? — paradin’ her all around New York and Jersey. Don’t tell me you didn’t think people would notice?”

“I hear she’s real pretty,” Garrett added. “And you know us bunch, we like our blondes.”

With that, Carlisle began relentlessly punching him. Garrett’s groans sounded different to how they had sounded in the hallway. Here, he was getting to know much less loving hands.

Esme pulled at Katarina’s hair again. “Tell me who told you about my daughter.”

“No.”

She shifted so she could better aim for Katarina’s kneecap, then shot it. The blonde let out an agonising scream, which woke Carlisle from his blind rage just long enough to look up and spot a marble urn on the fireplace.

“Tell me who told you about my daughter.”

“Fuck you,” Katarina moaned, writhing in pain.

Carlisle got up and grabbed the urn, dumped whatever ashes were inside into the fire pit, and made his way back to Garrett.

Esme flipped Katarina over and shot her other kneecap. Another ear-piercing scream blocked out the sound of Carlisle beating Garrett with the urn.

“Tell me something. Anything about what or how you know.”

Katarina simply whimpered. Esme pressed her foot against her knee, but the scream that followed was feeble. She would soon pass out from either blood loss or pain.

“You’re not gonna tell me anything?”

Katarina barely shook her head. Esme sighed and shot her between the eyebrows.

Carlisle was sitting still and staring at Garrett when she made her way over to him. “Is he dead?”

He shrugged.

She picked up the urn from the floor and gave Garrett’s body several extra beats to be sure.

“Is now,” Alice said quietly. Neither of them laughed.

Carlisle rubbed at his temple while Esme sat back beside him and leaned her head on his shoulder.

“They know about Rosie,” was all he said.

She nodded.

“Guess there’s no goin’ back now. Even if she wanted to, there’s no way she can go back to the life she had.”

“No,” Esme agreed.

“I get it now,” he mumbled, more to himself than to her.

“Get what?”

“I think...I’m finally worried.”

They sat in silence for a moment. Alice awkwardly cleared her throat.

“Alice, what they said about our friends—” Carlisle started.

“I won’t say anything,” she said before he could finish. They both trusted that. If Alice was a betrayer, they’d already be dead.

“Thanks.”

He closed his eyes for a few seconds before standing up. Esme didn’t like seeing him so uneasy. He was her comforter, so if he needed comforting, things weren’t good. But he did need comforting, and as his person, it was her job to do so.

“Alice, could you mute us for a while?” Esme asked as she got to her feet. “And turn off the living room camera? We need a minute.”

Alice hesitated. “Alright. But watch the time, for Rose’s sake. And I’ll mute you, but don’t mute me in case I need to warn you about unexpected visitors elsewhere in the property.”

“Thanks,” Esme said.

“Okay, I can’t see or hear you now. So if you need my attention, go to another room.”

Esme tugged Carlisle’s arm. “Help me move the bodies out of this room. I want it to be just us.”

He looked at her with confusion, but did as she asked.

Rosalie stared at the numbers on her timer. Forty-eight minutes and fifty-three seconds, and still no sign of her parents. Her free hand drummed at the steering wheel the way her fingers had before they left.

“C’mon, c’mon,” she muttered at the windshield. She felt her eyes start to well up and blinked furiously.

“Fine. An hour,” she promised aloud to no one, in attempt to settle herself. “We’ll hang on ‘til it’s been an hour.”

She glanced back at the timer, but a noise made her look up again. There the pair of them were, running towards her, open coats flapping in the wind. She exhaled with relief and started the engine. The headlights lit them up as she drove forward, giving her a full view of them. Both were covered in blood splatters.

“Thank god,” she cried as each of them swung open a door and hopped in the back.

“Hey, Princess,” Carlisle greeted her as she sped off.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Esme chirped. “Thanks for waitin’. Sorry we’re late.”

Rosalie frowned. Her tone was...strange. In the rearview mirror, she found the two of them staring at each other dreamily. Then, she registered Carlisle’s messed hair, and realised it wasn’t a tough fight that had delayed them.

“You assholes!” she seethed. “Do you have any fucking idea what ran through my mind?! I thought you were dead! I thought I was gonna get myself killed waiting around for two people who’d never come, because they were dead!”

“Sorry,” they said in unison.

“That’s it? You scare me into believing you’re dead and all I get is a simple sorry?”

“You were scared for us?” Esme sounded pleased. Rosalie rolled her eyes.

“You’re right,” Carlisle added. “That was selfish. Worry isn’t a nice feelin’. And a simple sorry isn’t all you get for it. We’ll head down Fifth Ave once we’re home if you like.”

She did like the sound of that, but she didn’t want him to think she could be easily won round. “Fine,” she said with a sigh.

“Oh and Rose?” Esme asked.

“Yeah?”

“We’re teaching you to shoot.”

[datleggy]

Post-demise At Hand

TW: mentions of past OD, past drug use, off screen death of character (Alex), grief, anger, misunderstandings 

TK isn’t sure how to react to the news, if he’s being completely honest with himself. 

He learns about the death of his ex through a post on Instagram via an old mutual friend of theirs that he hasn’t been in contact with since even before he packed up his life and moved to Texas. It’s hashtagged: #RIP #gonetoosoon and TK almost laughs out loud like some kind of maniac, because is that all Alex's life amounted to in the end? 

Two half-assed hashtags and a badly edited picture of Alex smirking at the person who took the stupid photograph in the first place. TK remembers that day; Alex had finally passed his drivers test and gotten his license. He remembers telling Alex to smile, remembers his ex boyfriend turning to him, rolling his eyes, saying something like “Why did I bother with this again? We live in New York.” except TK can’t remember what he said to Alex to be on the receiving end of that knowing little smirk. 

The one he can’t stop staring at now. 

“Earth to TK!” 

TK almost drops his phone onto the floor, blinking up at the person waving their hand in his face. “Huh?” 

Judd gives him a curious look. “Been calling you for like a straight minute, kid, you doin’ alright?” 

TK nods. “Yeah, sorry, yeah, I’m good, I was reading an article, I uh, got distracted.” he shakes his head. “What’s up?” 

“Your boyfriend’s downstairs lookin’ for you--” Judd tries not so subtly to peek at whatever it is that’s got TK so enraptured and catches a glimpse of a familiar face, one that gives him pause. 

He frowns. “TK, what the hell? Stalking your ex, seriously?” he blurts the accusation outloud without thinking, which is of course the very moment Carlos and Paul come gallivanting up the stairs, their laughter at something one of them said dying out abruptly. 

Paul’s eyes dart between the two men and he clears his throat awkwardly before motioning for Judd to skedaddle with him. Judd, who couldn’t take a hint if it hit him on the side of the head like a tire iron, simply folds his arms across his chest expectantly. “Well? Your fella’s right over there, so what’re you doing all up in your ex boyfriends business?” 

Paul sighs. Jesus. “Judd. Maybe we should give them some privacy?” Carlos is scarily silent next to him and Paul just knows shit’s about to hit the fan, and he’d rather be far far away when it does happen. 

Carlos swallows hard, wipes his hands against his uniform pants, and says, “It’s fine. I’ll um, I’ll see you at home.” before turning around and going back the way he came. 

“Man.” Paul stares at TK, who hasn’t uttered a single word as of yet. “You’re not gonna go follow after him?” 

Judd scoffs. “And do what? Tell him it’s not what it looks like?” 

TK blinks rapidly a few times, as if coming out of a daze. “I--” His eyes go wide when he realizes what’s happened. “Shit.” he runs over to the edge of the railing to call for Carlos, but his boyfriend apparently bolted, because he’s nowhere to be seen. 

Judd whistles loudly behind him, arms still crossed disapprovingly. “Carlos is a good catch, TK, shouldn’t be messin’ around with him if you’re not--” 

TK whirls around to face him, the look on his face mutinous. “I wasn’t stalking my ex on Instagram Judd! Get your head outta your ass and outta my business!” 

Judd takes a step forward and Paul can see where this is headed; he immediately gets in between the two men, arms raised. “Hey! Enough! You two need to relax.” 

Judd huffs. “I’m not the one tryna step out on my--” 

“Alex is dead.” Saying it outloud is surreal. 

Alex is dead. 

What the fuck. 

Paul and Judd both give pause. 

“What?” 

TK sighs, aggravated, and shows them the post he’d been caught looking at earlier. 

“TK...” Paul gulps. “I’m sorry man.” 

TK nods but doesn’t utter a word. 

Judd cringes. “Crap, I--” He wants to smack his head against the palm of his hand as hard as he can. “I’m such a heel, Jesus TK, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed--I’m so sorry.” 

TK leans his back against the railing and this time it’s his turn to cross his arms over his chest. “Yeah, well...tell that to Carlos.” 

“TK I’ll call him right now and tell him I misunderstood, I swear--” 

TK interrupts him again with a shake of his head. “No, no, it’s better if I just explain it myself.” he looks up at Judd through long lashes and manages a half hearted grin. “I guess I should be happy you respect my boyfriend enough to snitch on my ass?” 

Judd knows TK’s throwing him a bone, but still, he doesn’t feel he can take it. “I do,” he admits. “But that don’t mean I should’ve went ahead and assumed the worst. You deserve better than that and for that I’m especially sorry.” The whole thing with his own father in law stepping out on his Grace’s mother is still messing around with his head, but that was no excuse to think the worst of TK, of all people. 

But TK tells him not to sweat it, he’ll call Carlos and tell him everything, no big, really. And then he asks the two men not to mention anything about any of this to the Captain or to any of the rest of the team, if it can be helped. 

Paul frowns. “TK, it’s not good to try and go through these types of things alone, you know.” 

TK shakes his head. “I’m not trying to, really. I just,” he shrugs, looking a little like a lost lamb. “I don’t really know how I feel about it yet? So I’d rather not deal with everybody’s sympathies right now, if that’s ok.” 

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

He calls Carlos but gets sent straight to voicemail every single time and when that doesn’t work he texts him that whatever he thought was going on, there was nothing to worry about, that he would explain if Carlos would just pick up his damn phone. 

Work gets progressively busier after that and TK barely has time to catch his breath, much less to try and get into contact with his boyfriend, and so it’s not until the very end of his shift, hours later, that he’s able to rush home--that is, he thinks sullenly, if Carlos hasn’t changed all the locks on him.

TK shakes his head; Carlos wouldn’t do that. He’s probably stewing though, and that thought doesn’t make TK feel any better as he steps past the threshold and inside. He’s had such a long and tiring day he hasn’t even had time to properly process what’s happened to Alex. 

Carlos has cooked dinner, if the wonderful smell coming from the kitchen is any indication. He’s at the table eating alone with the TV on in the other room for background noise, and he doesn’t even look up to greet TK, only motions towards the stovetop vaguely. “Help yourself.” he mutters. 

TK ignores the food and takes a seat right across from Carlos, leans over the table with a grimace. “Babe, I swear to you it’s not like that. Judd misunderstood what happened--” 

Carlos sets his fork down with a clatter that startles TK into jumping slightly. “Look, I get it, moving in is a huge commitment, it’s scary, I know, but I didn’t think you would--” 

“Please,” TK stops him. “Please let me just explain, please.” he hastily takes his phone out of his back pocket and opens the app. He can hear Carlos sigh above him but it doesn’t deter TK from finding the post and holding it up to his face. “This is what Judd saw me looking at.” 

Carlos reluctantly lays eyes on the photo, his irritation and hurt only peeking when he sees that it’s a photo of TK’s almost fiance. That is, of course, until he reads the caption, notices the hashtags below, and suddenly it all makes sense. He doesn’t know quite what to say, except: “Oh.” 

TK nods. “Caught me by surprise. I um, I haven’t heard from him since, well, you know. So I didn’t really know how to react when I found out and then Judd came up behind me and I mean, you know the rest of the story…” 

“Oh.” Carlos says again, because he’s still trying to process the news. 

“Yeah.” TK shrinks back in his chair and the wounded look of him finally snaps Carlos out of it.  

“Crap,” Carlos groans. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” He gets up and rounds the table, kneeling down in front of TK. “I was hurt and I ran off without letting you even get a word in, that was messed up and I’m sorry. Are you ok?” He makes a face at his own question, because of course TK isn’t ok. The man he’d proposed marriage to a little over a year ago now has passed, after all. 

There’s no way he’s ‘ok’. 

“I uh, I don’t know.” TK admits quietly. 

Carlos puts a hand on his knee and squeezes gently. “It’s ok to be sad, Ty.” 

TK shakes his head. “It’s--I’m not. I’m not sad. I think? I mean...it’s not like we were on friendly terms, you know? I’m more surprised I guess, than anything else. He was still so young.” 

Carlos nods solemnly. “How did it happen, do you know?” 

TK clears his throat and scratches at the back of his head. “The obituary I found online said it was some kind of car accident near PA. I didn’t really find out any more details than that, though. The funeral was earlier this afternoon.” 

Carlos blinks. “Oh. None of your friends from New York said anything? Before today?” The fact that TK had to find out through Instagram is probably half the reason his boyfriend is finding it so hard to react properly to the tragic news. 

“I didn’t really bother to keep in contact with a lot of our friends when I left, to be honest. And plus, they were all Alexs’ friends before becoming mine. So he kinda had the right to keep them after the divorce...in a manner of speaking.” TK runs a hand through the greasy locks of his hair and grimaces. “Anyway, I should probably go shower, it’s been a long day and I’m kinda gross.” 

Carlos nods, letting TK worm his way out of the conversation without too much fuss. 

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

In the shower TK stands under the spray of hot water and stares blankly at the tiled wall in front of him, irritated by the jumbled thoughts plaguing him. God, he thinks, I could really use a drink right about now. 

What exactly is he supposed to be feeling right now? 

Grief? 

Anger? 

Or perhaps regret. 

It’s not as though TK ever got any real closure with Alex and now he never would. After being rejected by the man and worse yet, told he’d been replaced, TK hadn’t wanted to feel any of that pain and had gone to great and dangerous lengths to make sure he was good and numb that night. 

He hadn’t meant to overdose. But he’d popped a couple of pills initially, so sure that he could control himself this time, that this time it would be different. But twenty minutes later when the two little white pills had done nothing to soothe his aching heart TK thought, what’s two more? And then two more after that, and then maybe two more, and then he’d lost count, but fuck it, if he hadn’t felt better in the moment. 

The pills had worked! He couldn’t feel a thing, his head was blessedly empty and suddenly this giant weight had been lifted from his chest and he could breathe again. Until he couldn’t. 

The water is cold by the time TK steps out of the tub. He dries himself off and slips on a pair of boxer shorts and an old gray t-shirt. 

Carlos is waiting for him in the kitchen with a full plate, reheated, and normally the smell would be appetizing, but tonight it makes TK a little sick. “You alright? You were in there a while.” 

TK nods. “M’good.” 

“Here, sit, you should eat something before going to bed.” he sets the plate down in front of him and TK just stares at it like it’s the first time he’s seen food in a while and he’s not quite sure what to do with it. 

“Thanks, but I’m not really hungry. I think I’m just gonna go to sleep. I’m tired.” 

Carlos nods, his lips pursed like he wants to say something more, but instead all he says is, “Ok.” 

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

It’s nearly three in the morning when TK wakes up in a cold sweat, gasping for air. He’s not sure how he does it, but he manages not to wake Carlos up as he sneaks out of their bed. 

A few minutes later he’s outside in his sweatpants and a hoodie, mindlessly jogging along his usual route. It’s not drugs or alcohol, but running does help. He runs and runs and runs until it hurts and even then, he keeps on running. It’s not until the cramping in his stomach is too much to bare that he finally stops and lets his body rest on a park bench. 

And it’s then that he feels his phone vibrating in his pocket and realizes he’s got three missed calls. “Shit.” he picks up immediately, holding the phone up to his ear with a shaky hand. “Hey.” 

“Where are you? TK, it’s almost five in the morning. What’s going on?” Carlos sounds frenzied on the other end of the line and TK can’t say he blames him. 

“Sorry, I couldn’t sleep, I went out on a run and I lost track of time. I’m headed home now, sorry. Go back to bed.” 

“I can come pick you up, where are you?” 

TK sighs. “Carlos, seriously, I’m within walking distance, don’t worry, I’ll be there in like fifteen minutes.” he hangs up without letting the other man get another word in, which he knows isn’t right, but can’t really find it in himself to care. 

His legs feel like jello when he gets up and the trek back to their place is torturous enough to make TK regret telling Carlos not to bother getting him. By the time he makes it home he’s limping slightly and his stomach is in knots. 

The door swings open before TK can even take out his keys, and Carlos is standing there at the entrance looking a mixture of concerned and annoyed. 

TK rolls his eyes and ignores the look, pushing his way inside and kicking off his shoes at the door. “What?” he snaps, when Carlos won’t stop staring at him. 

Carlos frowns. “Stop that.” 

“Stop what? What are you talking about? I went out for a run. You’re acting like I went out to shoot up at a meth lab or something. I was gone for less than two hours!” TK half shouts, his frustration spiking up a notch. 

“Stop shutting me out. I know you’re upset about what happened to Alex, but you can’t just-” 

“About what happened to Alex?” TK scoffs incredulously. “Nothing happened to Alex, Carlos, he died. That’s not something that happens to someone and then they like, get the fuck over it! He died! He’s dead! Gone! Never gonna see him again, didn’t get to say bye or even fuck you to the guy, he just went ahead and died and that’s that!” TK lets out a choked little laugh that sounds more like a cry than anything and covers his face with both hands, tries his best to get his shit together and under control, but it’s no use. 

It’s quiet for a long time and then TK speaks again and it's soft and agonized, “I loved him.” 

And Carlos nods, takes him by the shoulders and leads him to the stairs, where they both sit down and TK buries himself into Carlos, into his safe haven, and his breath hitches loudly and Carlos says, “I know.” and TK lets out a big broken sob. 

“I’m here.” Carlos assures him gently, “I’m here. It’s gonna be ok.”

.

[hexalene]

What's your wildest cruise ship story?

Oh shit I meant to post this sooner whoops

Uh

I have less “ONE BIG THING” stories and more of like, a series of surreal Events that happened to me over the course of the years and years I went on cruises (my family could go on cruises for free, so we abused the shit out of that for reunions and vacations for a long time)

So here’s a few of those, and I SWEAR TO GOD they’re real, and I might have photos buried somewhere to prove some of them, but idk, that’s like effort.

-I loved wandering around ships super super early in the morning. Like, crack of dawn early. I’d usually go hang out on one of the open floor restaurant areas around the middle of the ship, which had built in window seats you could curl up in. Pillows n shit too. Super comfy. I’d draw and listen to music, ect. One morning, I looked up and saw the Black fucking Pearl from Pirates of the Caribbean sailing by. Did not believe my eyes. It and four other ships, two of which were for non-pirate movies, were being sailed into a bay on the island we were headed to. I did manage to get a distant shot of it when I got on land.

-In 2006 (date relevant) I met two men in two different families, who were not related and had never met, named Tony Stark. As this was before the movie came out, I was left tragically alone with no one to be awed at this strange coincidence with me. One of them was even a dark haired man with a nice goatee.

(The other was a cute chubby grandpa type)

-Given the opportunity to demonstrate how corporations rig the system against the consumer, my father brought me down to the casino level and sat down across from a very fancy claw machine that dispensed iPads and other expensive tech prizes. He told me, “some people will win, and I’ll tell you when they will.”

I was like “okay dad sure” but we sat there for HOURS, and dad would say “okay, this guy will win if he goes for this prize” or “this guy will lose” and finally, “that woman will win an iPad.” Of course, most were losers, but he was DEAD ON every time someone would win. After a while he explained that the machine would only dispense prizes after collecting the money to pay for two more of whatever was won. He’d just sat there and done the math on the people playing the game and when it added up, he’d wait to see what they went for and let me know if they won. It had absolutely nothing to do with skill.

To make his point, he waited, counting out loud the money being put in, before standing up and slapping the button randomly on one of the lower rank prizes. He won an otter box phone case and told me that no one will ever give you the chance to win out at a loss to themselves, so don’t make a bet unless you’ve rigged the game to win. I was 14.

-uhhh what else

-The dance troupe arranged to do shows suffered a tragic undisclosed accident, so the short term bullshit to entertain people in the theatre was an honest to god passenger led talent show. Surreal on its own, but one of the passengers was a contortionist, and ran off to get their suitcase.

Now, they did a lot of fun bendy stuff, very weird, very cool, but they asked for volunteers at one point. I, my sister, our cousin, and two other kids were asked to come on stage. I was the oldest, maybe 12/13ish, my sister and cousin were 9, and the other two kids were between 6-9.

This MADMAN, without straining any of us to bend in any weird or uncomfortable way, managed to fit all five of us into his empty suitcase. I was in the damn thing and I have no idea how he managed it. He then zipped us all up inside and walked around the stage a bit. And it was fine, like not uncomfortable or hard to breath or anything!

I remember getting out of the suitcase clearest of all. We’d all been fit inside so snugly, in this order:

Me, stranger kid 1, cousin, sister, and stranger kid 2. To get us out, he lay the case flat and lifted my sister up. Somehow this like??? Was like those monkey in a barrel toys, we all just neatly unfolded with her, no tripping or falling or anything. That feeling, where one moment I’m staring at my cousins’ feet and some other kid’s elbow, and then I see the dude lift my sister and then all of us just RISE WITH IT and unfold like a flower blooming I have no idea if this makes any sense at all but it felt magical.

- Something bad happened back home, but we didn’t know what. My dad had a business meeting but mom wanted to see the beach. We got off the ship, and like, HARDCORE struggled to find a way to get to a beach, any beach. We were in....Mexico, somewhere in the neighborhood of Chichén Itzá, maybe an island nearby I think? There were some massive ruins somewhere, I remember that much.

While mom hunted down a beach, my siblings and I sat under a giant box fan, near a TV. Something was happening, the employees were changing the channel, trying to find the clearest signal to the American news. I remember looking over at the grainy footage being interrupted by commercials and other signals and piecing together through the static and the employee trying to translate that back home, the 2008 financial crash was happening and that mom’s insistence that we find a beach and have fun was because that business meeting dad had stayed behind to deal with was him trying to make sure we’d still have a house to live in when we got back to the states, and she didn’t know if this would be the last truly carefree time we had before we went home to face the music.

-However, mom’s eternal struggles to find a beach didn’t begin in 2008. The previous trip we’d taken had another Beach Adventure.

That time, it was also just mom and the siblings. I don’t remember why dad was staying behind, maybe a poker tournament or something?

We disembarked and the struggle began. Nothing was in English, other than the scant few signs the cruise ship put out to guide passengers off the docks. However, THIS was not a problem, as I was about as fluent in Spanish as a third grader restricted to the present tense, and this worked well enough to get us around.

There was a massive bus to a beach, just PACKED to the gills with Americans. As we waited in line, a nondescript man came up to us, and said, “that bus will go to a very crowded beach with many other passengers of other ships. I know a better beach, and cheap! I’ll charge only half of what that bus will charge you and my beach is much much nicer!”

You might be thinking that common sense would tell us not to get in a random unmarked car with an un-uniformed man offering an amazing half off deal to a perfect isolated beach in broken English on a largely rural island, wouldn’t you? You’d be wrong.

My mother is a sweet devout catholic lady with a hidden core of raw chaos. Her idea of a nice day out in the snow with her tiny children was to strap us in the back, drive to the massive Schnuck’s parking lot, gun it up to 90mph, and hydroplane/drift like a fucking drag racer across the ice, laughing. Common sense does not exist in any normal capacity in this woman.

We spent an incredibly tense, silent, 45 minutes driving into the wilderness packed into a tiny car with no AC, sweating with heat and nerves as he drove us out in the middle of nowhere. Suddenly the driver pulls over. There is literally nothing but trees and cliffs for miles and miles. Mom is clutching my hand, my baby brother, and her knitting needles. The driver runs quickly to the center of the road, leans over, and picks up a huge tortoise that had frozen up when his car approached. He carried it over to the grass, and pat it goodbye.

Before he comes back Mom turns and looks at me and says, “a serial killer probably wouldn’t save a turtle, I think we’ll be okay.”

[cybernaght]

Guardian rewatch: episode 10

The tone of this recap is going to be the crackiest so far. The production quality plummets dramatically here, in a way which is as unintentionally hilarious as it is endearing. I have very little of import to say on events of this episode, and there is nothing much for me to hyper focus on, so a lot of this write-up are snark and bad jokes. Apologies in advance. I would not be getting annoyed at a show I did not care about. 

Day two of the Road Trip starts with Zhao Yunlan waking up with a splitting headache and his own jacket draped carefully over him. I choose to believe Shen Wei left it there. 

Zhao Yunlan wakes up - and discovers that Wang Zheng had slipped a sedative into the party’s water, effectively knocking them all out. He even discovers that she left her doll-body behind as a decoy; thankfully, it’s still Li Siqi and not the blow-up doll from the previous episode. 

With the daunting realisation that he’s been betrayed, Zhao Yunlan instantly spirals into hurt and anger, and this is the moment Shen Wei chooses to appear out to nowhere. He enters offering comfort, his entire focus on making Zhao Yunlan feel better by assuring the man that his subordinate is not one of the bad guys, but rather one of the self-sacrificing ones. How SID manages to function when it’s full of people with non-existent sense of self-preservation is beyond me. 

“Professor Shen, why are you okay?”

Zhu Hong narrows her eyes. Zhao Yunlan’s look is the one of vulnerability, not suspicion, almost as if he is silently asking to please not be betrayed by his newest partner.

“I didn’t drink the water she gave me.”

Another thing I would like to question here is the reasoning behind Shen Wei waiting until the morning with this. He knew that Wang Zheng was about to do something, since he refrained from drinking the water she offered. Everyone else being unconscious would be a perfect opportunity for him to go full Hei Pao Shi on her, or follow her quietly, or do literally anything but wait for the morning. 

“What is your purpose of coming here?” Shen Wei asks because he needs to know how much Zhao Yunlan knows. He does so with a perfect set of puppy eyes. 

We cut to Wang Zheng entering the chamber which houses the pillar/totem, and witness the absolute devastation of her hearing her love’s voice for the first time in a century, as he mistakes her for the enemy and calls her a rat.

I should say that while I’m not always on board with Li Siqi in this show, props to her for acting her heart out opposite a literal pillar. Her reunion with Sang Zan is incredibly touching; she really is wonderful here.

Flashback 1. The execution of Ge Lan. 

This method of execution seems so inefficient, I actually tried to find if it has any legs in history. As my research yielded exactly no results, I am guessing this is the producers showing hanging without actually showing hanging. They kind of accidentally made the whole affair infinitely worse. People are weaker than gravity, the angle offers no possibility of the neck being broken, so this would be a very slow, and very painful death. Yikes, is all I can say. 

Flashback 2. The montage. 

Sigh.

This imagery is so carelessly contemporary it’s killing me. I’m not saying it’s completely impossible for the heart shape to have been known to represent love in this fictional tribe on a fictional planet. I’m just saying it’s a boring shorthand for romance, made worse by the fact that so much of the show’s imagery is otherwise fairly intelligent. I am not angry, I’m just disappointed.

Wang Zheng and Sang Zan’s reunion triggers another earthquake, which is felt all the way back in the village, and shortly thereafter Zhu Jiu interrupts the couple, knocking Wang Zheng out. This - her being knocked unconscious - cuts to Zhao Yunlan wincing while clutching at his temples, which almost implies that he can feel it when his people are in danger. Which would be very cool if true. 

Shen Wei, in the meanwhile is remarkably good at keeping his Professor’s mask on the whole time, offering enough information without betraying his own knowledge or motives, but it is clear by now that Zhao Yunlan starts to see right through it. 

The chief sprints into action when Chu Shuzhi and Guo Changcheng arrive, instructing the two to join him in investigation. Shen Wei opens his mouth to volunteer to come with, but ends up hesitating before saying anything out loud. 

Zhu Hong, too, makes a move to go after the three men, but is firmly instructed to say behind and look after Shen Wei. She proceeds to loudly explain that this is the wrong time and place to be fussing over this guy. 

Shen Wei looks like he has no idea what to do with this display of emotion. 

Zhao Yunaln whispers to Zhu Hong to watch the professor for him: which could equally be him manipulating the Yashou into staying, or a sinking realisation that Shen Wei will actually try to join them either way, or genuine desire to find out what the professor will do next. Or, indeed, a combination of the above. Zhu Hong will attack her task with conviction. 

Sure enough, Shen Wei finally voices his desire to go with the group. Zhu Hong reminds him that he has his own people to look after and instructs him to return to the house with barely contained resentment. 

Shen Wei will predictably try to sneak out very shortly afterwards, and will be, equally predictably, caught by Zhu Hong. Why the man who can teleport would not just teleport out of the house before proceeding on foot is anyone’s guess. 

“He surprisingly views you as a good friend”, says Zhu Hong when she stops Shen Wei from leaving. “You surely noticed it, right?”

He certainly did, although he will always have trouble realising that he is actually cared about in a way which is anything but casual. 

Shen Wei obediently sits down and follows Zhu Hong’s instructions as she attempts to hypnotise him. Those instructions are anything but subtle. 

“Professor Shen, look at the flame closely”.

Meanwhile, the other party has successfully deduced the location of the Hanga tribe cave/shrine, and heads there, only to find no visible entrance. Thankfully, gaining access to the mountain is not particularly hard for the party. Mostly because this part of the mountain is made of foam.

This is where I want to metaphorically pat Guardian on its non-existent head, cooing, “Oh, Guardian. Baby. What have you done.”

On the bright side, this is also where Guo Changcheng accidentally shocks Zhao Yunlan with the Fear Stick, and Chu Shuzhi literally gives him a thumbs up. Those two are a duo for the ages. 

Youchu appear to fight our heroes, and after the first wave is eliminated, Zhao Yunlan decides to go inside, leaving the other two fend them off near the entrance. Considering that the beasts are all hiding inside the cave, rushing in without backup seems incredibly ill advised. Zhao Yunlan instructs Chu Shuzhi and Guo Changcheng to run away if the danger becomes too great. Which he must know surely that they would never do: his department does not leave people behind, and his subordinates will never abandon him. 

To no one’s surprise, the cave is crawling with Youchu. Zhao Yunlan goes on the offensive, kicking the feet out of the monster, but failing to incapacitate it. I am going to do my best to ignore how the scale of the beast fluctuates as it falls down, and focus on Bai Yu’s excellent reaction when his character realises that he is about to very much die.

Luckily for our protagonist, Hei Pao Shi sends a ward his way with a note, warning him of the danger ahead and ordering him to return. Zhao Yunlan makes no move to do as instructed and uses the upper hand he’s gained on the Youchu to get out his gun. Before he can fire however, he once more experiences the painful flashback of the devastation this gun carries, and freezes.

This is when Shen Wei shows up in person, jumping in front of the gun and gutting the beast.

The jumping in front of the gun part of the action is sweet, because it indicates, albeit indirectly, the absolute trust Shen Wei must have in Zhao Yunlan’s instincts, knowing that the man will not accidentally shoot him in the back. 

The gutting itself happens in reverse grip, with Shen Wei being easily within reach of the beast’s long stabby claws, and as such really questionable to me in terms of logic. I would have not minded it if he had been moving through the space in front of the beast, slicing it while passing through. That would be at least an indicator of both speed and dexterity enough to make me believe Shen Wei made a clever avoidance of the claws. But he doesn’t: he just materialises dead-on in front of the monster and the later just.. lets itself be killed. 

Let’s just say that maybe the beast is supposed to be deliberately slow here, and park the long essay in regards to the bladework until the next episode. 

“Chief Zhao, are you alright?”

Everything about Hei Pao Shi in this moment screams of Shen Wei-ness. Well, maybe not the sword. But the obvious concern, the tone of voice, the general air: it’s all Shen Wei. It’s remarkable that Zhao Yunlan does not see it. Or maybe, I suppose, he does, without even realising it. His cheeky grin suddenly appears; the corners of his eyes crinkle, as he goes into a very long-winded, almost flirtatious away about thanking Hei Pao Shi, teasing him for not always arriving on time. 

Unperturbed, Shen Wei chides Zhao Yunlan for not listening to his warning, and Zhao Yunlan defends himself in a very playful kind of manner, adding that he’s not leaving his people behind. To Shen Wei, this is to be expected, so instead of arguing he goes into a lot of detail on how the road ahead is dangerous, as if he is not really expecting Zhao Yunlan to accept help. 

He is wrong of course: proud though he may be, Chief Zhao knows when he is outgunned and outnumbered, and only grins, happy for the Envoy to join him on his mission. 

Shen Wei and Zhao Yunlan exploring the cave is interspersed with pretty damn harrowing scenes of Zhu Jiu torturing Wang Zheng as her trapped lover screams for mercy. It’s a lot; in fact it’s so much even the cave ghosts attempt to intervene, because while they may be very much pro-murder, they are evidently anti-torture. 

As the two keep exploring, they bump into another three of the beasts, which Shen Wei slays in three slick moves. It’s actually pretty cool, despite slightly sketchy teleportation effects.

“Wow!”

(Apparently, this “wow” made Zhu Yilong corpse so much he nearly laughed his mask off. Which sounds adorable)

Shen Wei proceeds to inquire Zhao Yunlan about the gun, party to confirm that it is indeed the dark energy weapon he knows, and partly having noticed that the other man failed to fire it. I wonder how many times Zhao Yunlan froze in the past, considering how easily he once again slips into his mask of playful deflection, claiming that he never planned to fire the gun at all. It’s almost tragic how this person keeps feeling like he needs to prove his own capabilities over and over again. 

Interestingly enough, in this particular case Hei Pao Shi actually does own up to a weakness. It’s calculated: he knows this is something Zhao Yunlan must already be aware of, but still, “full disclosure” is not something Shen Wei usually does when it comes to his own capacities. 

What he admits to, on the other hand, does not seem very consistent with the rest of the show. He says that he can only use half of his power above ground, which - okay. But he also states that he can’t spend a lot of time here, and I am a little bit… confused? He lives above ground. He spends absolute majority of his time here. I really don’t want to think of this as a writing inconsistency, so please let me know what I have missed; I’ll appreciate it. 

Hearing the admission, Zhao Yunlan grows serious for once, asking which they they should be going next. Shen Wei barely smothers a smug smirk seconds before he scries the surroundings with unbelievable panache.

Show off

Unfortunately, his search does not yield any result, as whatever readings he is getting are muddled by the Hallow. Luckily for them, and to Shen Wei’s great dismay, Zhao Yunlan has the Dial on him which he is uses as a compass. 

Shen Wei’s wordless reaction conveys a million questions from “what the hell?” to “are you completely stupid?”

Instead of asking any of those things, he settles for a more neutral “I’ve told you not to use the Hallows.”

“You are very much like a friend of mine”, remarks Zhao Yunlan. 

Which is, incidentally, also the title of this episode. 

Even behind the mask it’s clear to see Shen Wei’s blind panic as he realises he may have just blown his cover sky high. Fortunately, Zhao Yunlan reads the reaction as bashfulness rather than existential despair, and laughs it off. 

Now that they know which way to go, they finally make it to the chamber which houses the pillar/totem, which now has Wang Zheng tied to it. 

This show sure does like tying their characters to totems containing souls of people significant to them, huh?

In all seriousness though, as parallels go, this one is… uh… unparalleled. 

(I am so very sorry.)

Zhao Yunlan makes a move towards his trapped subordinate, but Hei Pao Shi, again in a way which is extremely Shen Wei-like, grabs at his arm, stopping him in his tracks. 

Zhao Yunlan obediently halts, and calls Zhu Jiu out, correctly guessing that the Undergrounder lured them here deliberately. Shen Wei, on the other hand, relays in a hushed tone information what he had observed so far: namely, that the Hallow stored here is the Dire Awl, and that something is incredibly fishy about Wang Zheng.

As he does so, he is staring at Zhao Yunlan’s lips. It is neither the time, nor the place, but hey, I’m not complaining.

They have a brief discussion about the next moves, in which Shen Wei just says he would like to try something, and Zhao Yunlan nods, letting him do it without asking for any details. 

Flashback 3: the Backstory. 

We hear the full tragic tale of Ge Lan and Sang Zan: how they met, representatives of the warring sides of the conflict, two people from two different worlds; how their love did not stop the awful bloodshed; how it could not be enough to overpower the politics; how it lead to Ge Lan’s death, and, finally, how Sang Zan could not bring her back to him. They hear how the man changed once he lost the only person he cared about. 

Zhao Yunlan is visibly moved by this story, recognising echoes of it in himself. 

“The most basic dignity of a man is to ensure that the person in his heart stays safe. If the person I love gets destroyed in my own hands ruined under the system I established myself, it’s very likely I’ll hate these people more than I hated the former tribe leader.”

How much did he harden after his mother was taken away from him? How much of his initial hatred of all those from the Underground stems from that day? And, of course, how much will it break him when he will not be gifted this dignity in his own future? 

Shen Wei is near vibrating with how much his very soul resonates with the tale he has just heard. He, who has met someone from the other world, who was lost that person, is visibly weighed down by his own memories.

“That’s right. Even if they’re cut into a myriad of pieces, the hatred would be hard to dissolve.”

Zhao Yunlan stares at the other man, astounded, wondering what hardships and losses the Envoy endured in his long and eventful life, as the episode draws to a close.

And I am left here trying to soothe my aching heart, bruised once more by this show’s relentless fatalism. 

Next up, episode 11: Oh Boy Do I Have Sword Opinions 

---

Notes. 

Look. It’s been a long week okay. Besides, I am basically marathoning my way through Zhu Yilong’s entire filmography. 

The normal service in terms of analysis will hopefully resume next week. 

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

Any way we could get like a master list of like Tobias + Rachel moments like “first time they talk about their feelings” and “first kiss” etc? And what book it’s in? If that’s not too much. I love you!!

All right, this is going to be less a master list, more a “things I can think of off the top of my head,” but here it is.

The Non-Definitive List of Rachel/Tobias Milestones:

First crush: #1.  It’s hard to say how much is going on in the background of their first mission, because Jake is a clueless duffer who needs Cassie to explain romance to him and because Jake takes forever to wrap his head around the fact that Rachel is capable of having crushes on boys.  But we know that Rachel is looking at Tobias when she agrees to let the boys walk her and Cassie home, and we know that Rachel immediately jumps to Tobias’s defense when he and Marco start arguing.  Rachel is the most worried about Tobias when the others lose sight of him during that first battle, and the fastest to consider Tobias a part of the group.

Unresolved romantic tension: #3.  Tobias knows he has a thing for Rachel as of this book.  He knows, and he’s not ever planning on doing a dang thing about it, because he’s a bird and she’s a human.  They smash up car commercials together, they hunt for yeerk ships together, and they fly all over town together, but he’s pretty sure they’re going nowhere relationship-wise.  And then Rachel, in the middle of half-drowning in the truck ship’s water tank, starts to say what she needs to say before she dies.  She stays in morph longer than any of the others specifically so that she and Tobias can have this last moment alone.  And Tobias’s response to her near-confession is to grab a dracon beam and go take on an entire yeerk fleet alone.

Acknowledging their feelings: #7.  When the Ellimist comes with his offer, Jake and Marco focus on saving their families, Ax and Cassie go full environmentalist... and Rachel and Tobias are pissed.  Tobias figures out instantly that he’s only there as a human because the Ellimist wants to manipulate Rachel’s emotions through dangling the possibility of de-nothliting her honey-pie in front of her face.  Rachel’s pissed on Tobias’s behalf, Tobias on Rachel’s behalf, and the Ellimist is just deeply amused.

Resolving romantic tension: #12.  When Rachel doesn’t know what to do about the crocodile thing, she goes to Tobias.  When Tobias sees Rachel and Jake headed for another fight, he undercuts it so that Rachel wins.  They banter about Superman and Xena having kids together.  They jerk Marco around together.  They’re a couple already, even if they’ve never even held hands.

First couples’ fight: MM2.  They’re both tired and hungry and injured, to give credit where it’s due, and they’re entitled to get snippy with each other.  It’s also worth noting that they resolve their spat in a pretty healthy way — Tobias acknowledges that he underestimated how hard it would be to control the deinonychus morph, Rachel acknowledges that she underestimated how dangerous the deinonychuses would be, they both acknowledge that they’re not at their best and need to drop the subject until they’re in a better mood.  It’s also when Rachel recognizes that Tobias isn’t, fundamentally, a mere human: she doesn’t reach him through the dino instincts until she pivots from descriptions of fingers and toes and instead reminds him of flying.

Healthiest moment: #23.  Yes, a matter of opinion, but I love how supportive Rachel is toward Tobias throughout this whole book.  She’s quick to reassure him that she doesn’t think it’s weird to eat roadkill, and equally quick to drop the subject when he wants to.  Whatever Tobias needs, from a sympathetic ear to a killer grizzly, she’s happy to help him through this difficult time.

Labeling the relationship: #27.  Bless T.T. and his stupid little 1990s So Cal name.  It takes T.T.’s dimples and his smooth-talking and his sheer ordinariness for Rachel to realize that she doesn’t want dimples or smooth-talking or ordinariness.  She wants the kind of guy who is terrified of water but will become a sperm whale to keep her safe.  She wants a “mouse-eating freak,” because she’s a squid-eating freak herself.  She wants someone around whom she can be ugly, can be vulnerable, can be scared, can be herself.  Also, I love that moment with Tobias commenting that T.T. is “pretty cute, and perceptive too” after T.T. says something unrepeatable about Rachel’s violent tendencies and sense of propriety.

First kiss: MM3.  It’s the moment just after Rachel was “killed” by a cannonball aboard the Trafalager and then pops back up in the middle of Princeton University’s campus.  Tobias runs and grabs her, she smooches him, Marco asks if he can have a kiss as well, the racist dude that Cassie was in the middle of intimidating cries on the floor.  It’s all very romantic.

The L Word: #32.  The whole book is about Rachel learning to reconcile the different sides of herself, but a big part of it is her realizing that Tobias has gone through many of the same struggles.  Tobias knows she’s a killer, and he’s a killer too.  Tobias knows she’s a frightened softie at heart, and he is one too.  Tobias’s entire life has been about him trying to stick together disparate pieces of himself, which is why Tobias is the only thing Mean Rachel and Nice Rachel can agree upon, and it’s why Tobias is the only one whom Rachel wants to see after it’s all over.

Best “battle couple” moment: #36.  A matter of opinion, of course, but I love the moment that the yeerk submarine starts to come apart and Rachel bodily wraps herself around Tobias to protect him.  Honestly the whole motif of them pairing up their battle morphs — hawk-Tobias compensating for bear-Rachel’s major weakness through acting as her eyes and ears, bear-Rachel compensating for hawk-Tobias’s relative delicacy through being the tank of the team — does my heart good.  But I have an extra-large soft spot for this moment because when the shit hits the fan, Rachel’s immediate reaction is to throw her entire body between Tobias and danger.

Picking out furniture: #49.  Yes, Rachel is joking when she tells Tobias that they need to get patio furniture for his meadow, but it’s also an affirmation that they both view this as a long-term thing they’ve got going.  She wants them to have a place together, even if it is a random clearing in the woods with a deeply suspicious number of lounge chairs.

First date: ???  Arguably, Rachel and Tobias never go on a single actual date-date, and I think that’s a lot of the beauty of their utterly unique relationship.  Ones that could count:

Destroying a car commercial in #3.  Although there are hints in #2 that Rachel goes flying alone with Tobias sometimes, this is the first time we actually see them doing something for fun together.

Running around as hork-bajir in #13.  It’s the first time they go on a mission as a couple, the first time they really consider the possibility that they could have a relationship now that Tobias can morph, and the first instance of them using “paired” morphs together.

Tobias’s birthday in #23.  If “date” means sharing a meal together, then by gum Rachel baking an entire cake for Tobias and then having the world’s strangest conversation about his family history while they sit on the floor of her room and eat with their hands has got to count.

The school dance in #29.  This is the first time (that we know of) where they go to a public human gathering as a formal couple.

The opening sequence of #33.  This moment canonically makes “Iris” by the Goo Goo Dolls their song, and it involves the first real conversation about their future as a couple.

The ending sequence of #33.  EVERYTHING HURTS AND NOTHING IS OKAY at the end of this book, but it also involves them doing human-stuff like hugging and hanging out on the beach followed by them doing raptor-stuff like flying around together, because everyone but especially Rachel is trying to do whatever Tobias needs right then.  It’s also the most emotionally raw moment between them, but one they get through together.

Watching Felicity together in #35.  I love this moment, not in the least because Rachel and Tobias are both like “how dare you interrupt our soap opera with yeerks, Marco?” and it hints at what they’ve been up to in the background of the books they don’t narrate.  It’s also canon that Rachel doesn’t have a TV in her room, so that suggests that human-Tobias and human-Rachel were sacked out on her couch together, possibly while Naomi glared disapprovingly from the door to the kitchen.

Having burgers in #49.  Rachel bringing Tobias McDonald’s is actually the first time they label one of their own meetups as being a date, for what it’s worth.

Most painful moment: #54, duh.  For me it’s a three-way tie between Tobias guiding Rachel through her last battle after she’s blinded by snake venom, Rachel and Tobias both taking on human morph so that they can say goodbye to each other THROUGH A VIEWSCREEN, and Tobias stealing the urn with Rachel’s ashes because he wants her to have a memorial her way.  Ugggghh why do these children wound me so.

[aperrywilliams]

The Milestone (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

(Not my gif!)

Masterlist - Requests

———————

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader.

Summary: Reader is in her last weeks of pregnancy and accepts to help Rossi and Prentiss in a field consulting. What could go wrong?

Word Count: 4914.

Warnings: Curses. A lot of curses. Anxious Spencer. Fluff.

A/N1: I’m sorry, I have a strong bias for Prentiss and Rossi.

A/N2: I had to upload it again because Tumblr is crazy. I'm going tag my favorite people around here: @emilouu​ @dreatine​ @andiebeaword​

——————–

There are many awkward things about pregnancy that people tend to omit just to make it seem like everything is wonderful and beautiful. And that's fine, having a life lodged in your womb for almost nine months fills you with emotions. Is incredible. The miracle of life!. But we must be honest, how beautiful is it that you cannot almost move within a radius of 4 square meters without feeling that your back is killing you? How beautiful is it that you cannot sleep because there is no bearable position to be in bed?

Worse still is not being able to sleep and seeing that your husband can do it peacefully next to you. The same human being who put you in this situation. At those times it makes me want to smack him and push him to the floor. But those desires quickly go away when I see that beautiful face, that messy hair full of curlers, those bare arms resting over his head on the pillow, those hands and those long fingers...

There are nights where I have simply watched Spencer sleep until exhaustion overcomes me. Apparently tonight is no exception. Despite my envy, the love I feel for this man makes me "almost" forget the discomfort of a 36-week pregnancy. You're lucky Dr. Reid that I don’t want to kill you right now.

The next morning I woke up to a cramp that made me scream in pain. Instantly I could see pair of curious eyes on me.

"Is something wrong (Y/N)...? Does something hurt?"

"Fuck!..."

"Is the baby...? (Y/N)… talk to me…”

"Fuck Spencer... no... it's a damn cramp!..."

"Show me where..."

As best I could, I aimed at one side of my right leg. Spencer rushed to massage the area so I could relax my muscles. I was still squeezing my eyes shut in pain, but it started to ease. Feeling relief, I let out a heavy sigh.

"Better…?"

"Yes. Thank you…". I sat on the bed with my back resting on the backrest. "I’m sorry Spence, I woke you up and I also yelled at you". I felt bad about both.

"Do not apologize. You don’t have to do it".

"Am I a bad mother if I say I want this baby to come out as soon as possible?". I asked almost crying. Spencer looked at me confused. I went from cursing and yelling at him to being a pudding of emotions and crying.

"Of course not. Your body is already preparing to let the baby out. A few weeks to go, but I can understand the discomfort is increasing. That doesn't make you a bad mother (Y/N)”. To reinforce his point, he sat by my side on the bed and hugged me tight, kissing my forehead. “Take it easy my love. You’ll be a great mom. I’m absolutely sure about that”.

“I don’t know how you do that… but I love you”. Spencer laugh at my words. He knows very well what to say to sooth me.

Spencer got a shower while I made breakfast. I could had stayed in bed but I instead I felt the need to move a little. Doctor had suggested I need some daily activity and a routine, which is a good idea to follow in these last few weeks before birth. So I had things planned for the day while Spencer was at work. I was really missing the BAU, I have to confess it. I delayed my prenatal start as long as I could specifically because I knew I would miss working. But by now I had new priorities.

My schedule considered a walk around the block, shopping for some groceries, reading, cooking, some TV, more reading, and some writing. I discovered the taste for writing in the progress of my pregnancy. I realized that I liked to keep a diary of the things that were happening every day. Those things soon turned into little stories. It was one of the things I kept for myself. Not even Spencer knew much about it.

When I got back from my walk and groceries’ shopping, my cell phone started ringing. It was Prentiss. That set off my internal alarms. Had something happened to Spencer?

"Emily?..."

“Hey! (Y / N), how are you? How is the baby?” she asked cheerfully.

Okay, it seems that it’s not a bad thing... or is it?.

"Fine. I’m fine. Did something happen? Is Spencer okay?"

Emily, just tell me everything is fine...

"Yes. It’s ok. Everything is alright. Spencer is with the rest of the team in the field near DC working on a case. The truth is I was calling to ask you for a favor…”

"Yes, tell me. How can I help you".

"With Rossi we have to interview the girlfriend of an unsub and we are sure she knows his location. She is pregnant and according to our profile, her baby is the only thing that could make her confess where he is hiding right now. And well, you know that neither Rossi nor I are very subtle, so we wanted to know if you can help us interview her. It would also be doubly useful given that your pregnancy is more than evident and that would help her to gain confidence…”. It was a strange requirement. But surely they had discussed it with David and it was reasonable after all.

"Ok... do I have to go to the BAU?". Strange as it was, the idea of ​​leaving the apartment and feeling useful seemed wonderful to me, even if it was for something like that.

"No, we have to go to her house. But if you say yes, with Rossi we will pick you up in 15 minutes”.

I didn’t think twice. Despite my advanced pregnancy, the doctor's recommendation was that I maintain as active a life as possible. He wasn't going to walk much either, I would surely be in the car or in a house most of the time.

It was good to see Emily and David again. The last time I saw them was for the babyshower a few weeks ago. I settled in the back seat and we spent a lot of time talking. The place seemed to be more distant than I originally thought. In the last part of the trip I felt some pain, the baby started to move a little. I had lost the habit of being in a car for so long, despite the comfort of a federal SUV. Prentiss noticed my face contorted a little.

"Are you okay (Y/N)?" she asked with concern.

"Yes, yes... it's just I hadn't been in a car ride in days and with such a bulging belly is difficult to find a comfortable position. That's all".

"Okay. We are not that far. Unfortunately this place is on the borders of the city, but it shouldn't take us long.” Emily assured me.

"Yes, this should be fast," said Rossi.

Indeed, the place was almost a rural campsite. I hadn't realized it. When we got there we went to knock on the door and a young woman of no more than 25 years old greeted us with an uninterested and unhappy face. Only by showing her our badges did she let us in.

I managed to conduct the interview as we had agreed with Emily and David, although I didn’t feel comfortable. The atmosphere was tense and I was still in pain. I changed my position on the couch several times but the discomfort didn’t diminish, on the contrary. I tried to focus on my task and fortunately it worked, the woman ended up confessing the location of her fugitive boyfriend.

We got back in the SUV to resume our trip back home. The truth is I was relieved to be able to return. Although I missed working in the field, the pain had returned and I even began to feel contractions during the interview. At first I thought it might be some tension from the case.

We didn't drive much until we felt the SUV hit something under the dirt road. A thunderous noise was heard as Rossi cursed whatever had crossed the path. Without further warning the vehicle stopped.

"What is it?" Prentiss asked Rossi.

“Something is stuck in the car. I have to check, the pedals are locked and I can't keep driving like this” he replied, getting out of the vehicle and starting to check it everywhere. Prentiss was huffing with disgust and I began to feel a little distressed. The air began to fail me and the pains began to be more intense. A loud grumble escaped my mouth alerting Emily immediately.

"(Y/N)? What's wrong?..." Emily turned to look at me.

"I'm not feeling well... I'm... feeling contractions..." I answered with heavy breathing.

"What?!... now? Really?..." she asked me again with concern.

"I was uncomfortable on the trip to here... but I didn't start to feel pain until we were at the interview..."

"Are you fucking kidding me?!... but you still have weeks to go before you have a full-term pregnancy..."

“Arrrggg… shit!… I know. I know... the baby shouldn't come out yet. I'm only 36 weeks. I hope it’ll pass soon…”. I started to move to find some position that would ease the pain, but it got worse and worse.

"Spencer is going to kill me...". It must have been a thought from Emily that she didn't even realize had come out of her mouth. At that moment Rossi returns to the vehicle.

“Ladies, I have bad news for you. This car will not go to move anymore..."

"Why?". Emily's face was becoming more and more disfigured.

"There is a leak in the brake fluid, we cannot move this thing in these conditions...". Rossi was explaining the situation but was interrupted by a scream from me and Prentiss' look of horror.

"(Y/N)? That… thing… running down your legs is...?" Emily didn’t dare to finish the question.

"My water just broke..." I said crying in pain and despair.

"What is that? ..." asked Rossi.

"That means (Y/N) is going into labor right now..." Prentiss said as she took her cell phone. "We need transportation to take her to the hospital." She was at it when she realized her phone had no signal. "This is a fucking joke!... David, do you have signal?" Rossi took his cell phone.

"No... this is as dead as the car." Emily immediately took my purse and pulled out my cell phone. Same result. We were in the middle of nowhere with no signal reception.

While I felt the spasms of the contractions and they were accelerating more and more. If at first I was hoping it was just a false alarm, after the water broke and feeling the contractions were becoming more and more frequent, I realized that it was very likely that I would give birth in the middle of a dirt road in a federal vehicle.

"Okay. We have to calm down and think about what we can do” said Prentiss trying to put together a plan as she got out of the passenger seat and climbed into the back seat where I was. But seconds passed and nothing came out of her mouth.

“Come on Emily, focus. What we have to do?" Rossi rushed her.

"Fuck David, what makes you suppose I really know what to do?" Emily confessed. Rossi looked at her in disbelief.

"I don’t know. You are the Unit Chief, you must know how to bring a baby into the world… among other things, right?" he blurt out.

“Spencer is the one who had done that before. Not me!...”. Emily defended herself. While I contorted more and more in pain.

"Why isn't Tara here?..." I murmured almost like a prayer. Prentiss turned her attention back to me.

"Calm down (Y/N), everything will be fine, I promise...". It was the only thing she could think to say... and she had no fucking plan! This wasn’t going to work...

"I don't know how Prentiss knows that, but yeah... yes, everything will be fine (Y/N)," Rossi complemented.

My desperation had reached the limit. I was stuck with two useless and about to give birth. My husband had no idea and I was miles from a hospital.

“Stop talking and do something!!!! I'm about to give birth in an SUV!...". I yelled at them.

"Okay... okay... yes, you're right (Y/N)... let's see. We need transportation. David, take care of finding a car or whatever. You have to find signal reception or a phone to call Penelope. I'm going to stay here with (Y/N),” Prentiss ordered.

“Okay boss, but I'm warning you from now on that you're forcing the oldest member of the team to run. I don't know if it's very efficient decision…” Rossi protested.

"Would you rather stay with the pregnant woman and bring a baby into the world?" Emily offered him.

"Got it!. Communication and transportation. Understood!”. In two seconds Rossi had disappeared.

“(Y/N)… let's to focus on your contractions. Do you have an approximate time of frequency?...". Prentiss asked me.

"More and more frequent ... I don't know exactly the time..."

"Okay, let's measure that." Prentiss took her cell phone and opened the stopwatch app. "Let me know when a contraction starts."

“Arggggggggg… fuck fuck fuck…” was the only thing that came out of my mouth when a contraction just started.

“I guess that is a contraction… okay. Come on (Y/N), you're doing fine, try to breathe between contractions, that should help the pain a bit…”. As Prentiss took the time, she started seeing in the SUV, I suppose she was looking for implements or some kind of first aid kit.

“Emily… I'm scared. I need Spencer…”. I started to sob after the contraction passed.

“I know my little one. But you have to be strong. You’ll bring a little girl into this world and I’ll do everything in my power to keep you both safe. But you have to help me (Y/N). Let me look for something in this car that can help us…”. Prentiss said still scanning the vehicle with her eyes without letting go of my hand.

"Don't leave me Emily... please..." I begged her when I saw she was letting go of my hand.

“Don’t worry, I'm not going anywhere. I'll just be checking the trunk. I swear I'll be here in two seconds…”. With that said she got out of the back seat and opened the trunk. She took advantage of folding down the backs of the rear seats and with some blankets Emily made improvised pillows that she placed behind my back. Now I had more room to move my legs. I was trying to adjust when another contraction started.

"Emilyyyyy... another one... fuck... I'm going to die here... arrrgggggg.". You didn’t have to be an expert in pregnancy to realize the distance between each contraction was shortening and that I would give birth at any time. My body was sweating. My arms and legs were shaking. I wasn't even pushing yet and I was exhausted.

Prentiss came back to my side. She had found clean towels in a travel bag and a first aid kit containing alcohol and other things. I looked at her desperately.

“It's not a birth kit, but at least it’ll help us for now. I promise I’ll ask the bureau to implement a birth kit in all SUVs." I couldn't help crying between contractions. Emily took my hand again and didn't let go of it even though I could feel her bones creaking every time I squeezed it from a contraction.

"We will make it (Y/N), I promise we will make it". Emily reassured me.

***

The consulting case in Frederick, Maryland had taken up much of the morning. Although it was only an assistance for the local police, they asked us for more help with the case. JJ, who was leading the team on this mission, agreed we would stay a few more hours to help. Almost mid-afternoon we were able to finish delivering the profile and even tracked down the location of the unsubs with the help of García. Since we were only guests in a local case, it was not our job to make the arrests. The Frederick Police thanked us for our assistance and we were free to return to Virginia.

When we finished packing our belongings in the SUVs, we were waiting for JJ to say goodbye and leave the police station to start our return. During that time, I took my cell phone to call (Y/N) and let her know that I would possibly be home earlier. The strange thing is that her cell phone immediately threw me to voicemail. I suspected perhaps it had been without charge. It was weird anyway, because (Y/N) is a much more dependent on her phone than I’m, so she wouldn't neglect to have it without charge. I tried again and again voicemail. Frederick had a good reception signal, it couldn't be a problem with my phone.

While I was thinking about hypotheses and beginning to worry about why (Y/N) was not answering, JJ ran out of the police station towards us with her own cell phone in hand and on speaker. When she stopped in front of me she looked at me with worried eyes.

"Garcia, I'm here with Spence," JJ said.

"Oh Boy Wonder. Ahm. Okay…”. Garcia stuttered into the phone.

"What's wrong? Garcia? ...". I tried to hurry her to speak.

"It’s (Y/N)...". I felt like I was freezing from one moment to the next. Had something happened to my 36 weeks pregnant wife?

"What's wrong with (Y/N)?... Garcia, tell me once, please!"

"Reid, (Y/N) is giving birth right now!". Garcia blurt out suddenly.

"What?!... Which hospital? The George Washington?". I was about to get in the SUV and speed toward DC.

"That's the problem. She is not in the hospital at the moment. She's on a rural road outside of DC with Prentiss and Rossi. They had a failure in the car and Rossi had to find a ranch with a telephone from where he called me”. Penelope spat.

"But what the hell is (Y/N) doing on a rural road? She is supposed to be in our place, in the city... Garcia, what is going on?..."

“Reid, honey, I don't know the details of that. But I promise you we're doing our best to bring her to DC, to the hospital. I managed to get a chopper out of here and it's on its way to where they are while we’re speaking..."

“Penelope, make sure they take her to George Washington. We are going there” commanded JJ as she gestured for us to get into the SUVs.

"Okay. I'll call you as soon as I have communication with them, ”García concluded before hang up.

"Spence, let’s go" JJ yelled at me trying to get me out of my stupor.

Luke was driving in the car, JJ in the passenger seat and I in the back seat. Luke drove as fast as prudence allowed him, but it wasn't enough for me.

"Luke, speed up!" I yelled.

"Hey Reid, I'm going as fast as I can..." Alvez defended himself.

"Fuck ..." I mumbled.

“Spence, try to calm down. We are on our way. Penelope is helping to get (Y/N) to a hospital,” said JJ trying to use her motherly tone, but I was on the verge of nervous breakdown.

"Don't tell me to calm down JJ!. (Y/N) is giving birth in the middle of nowhere and I’m in a car 2 hours away! She shouldn't even be there in first place!" I complained.

"And with Prentiss and Rossi..." Luke added.

"Shut up Luke, you're not helping..." JJ replied.

Almost 15 minutes passed when JJ's cell phone began to ring. It was Penelope. JJ answered and put it on speaker.

"Go ahead García, you´re on speaker" said JJ.

"Perfect. The chopper arrived and the paramedics are with (Y/N) now. They had a satellite phone, I'm going to connect you with them right now… ”. Garcia transferred the call in that moment.

"Hello?" JJ asked.

"JJ?" Prentiss said on the other end of the line.

"Yes. Spencer and Luke are with me right now, we are driving to the hospital from Frederick…”

“Emily, how is (Y/N) ?, please… tell me, are you in the chopper now?”. I was quick to ask.

"Reid. Paramedics checked (Y/N) and she can't fly until she gives birth, it's not safe. So now we are going to have the baby born first and from there we immediately send her to the hospital" said Prentiss.

"What?!, (Y/N) can't have the baby there… she needs to be in a hospital!" I yelled into the phone.

“It will have to be here, Spencer, labor has already started and your daughter will be born at any moment. I’m sorry…"

"This is a nightmare... can she hear me?" I asked.

“Wait a minute. I'm going to put the phone more close and on speaker. Okay. Done,” said Prentiss.

"(Y/N)?, love?, can you hear me?"

"Spencer…? Is it really you?"

“Yes… it’s me. I'm sorry my love. I can't be there with you right now... "

"I know. I'm sorry too. I shouldn't be here either,” she said while I felt she was finding it difficult to breathe and complained of pain.

"It's okay. Everything will be fine”. At least it was what I expected. If I was horrified I couldn't even imagine how (Y/N) felt in that minute.

"It hurts a lot... I don't know if I can do it ..."

"You can do it love... I know you can ...". In that minute I heard her scream, a contraction for sure.

"I HATE you Spencer!". (Y/N) yelled at me on the phone.

"Love, please, breathe..." I told her to try to get her to focus on breathing.

"Don't tell me what to do! You're not even here! Fuck!". She kept yelling at me on the phone.

"I know my love. I would like to be with you now...". I felt my eyes fill with tears of powerlessness, of not being able to be there with her.

"Spencer... I need you now..." she started to sob.

"Wasn't she hating him just right now?" Rossi interrupted, possibly speaking to Emily.

"David, shut up" Prentiss replied.

"Why doesn't she come out yet?". She grumbled crying

"You have to push (Y/N)...". Emily said to her.

"I can’t do it..."

"Love, I know you can, you’re a strong woman, the strongest woman that I know, I love you, you know that... come on, push, please!..." I tried to encourage her to push.

"Come on (Y/N)! Now it’s the time... one, two, three... push!" Prentiss shouted.

"AHHHHGGGGG I'M GOING TO KILL YOU SPENCER REID…" she yelled.

"Come on (Y/N), you're doing great!. Breathe," said Emily.

"Love, you can do it!" I tried to persuade her to continue.

"I can't... I can't do it..." (Y/N) whined crying. My heart broke listening her words. The pain must been awful.

"Keep going (Y/N), once again. Remember when Spencer forgot your birthday two years ago?". Prentiss asked her.

"Emily... I don't think that's a good idea...". I said over the phone.

"That same anger I need you to get out now for push... come on, one, two, three... push!"

"AHHHHHHGGGGG HOW COULD YOU FORGET IT! FUCKING REID..."

"That's right! Good!... we are close now. Push once more time and the baby will be born... now think about the times Spencer has promised take you to Europe and he canceled it..."

"Emily, please...". I said again over the phone.

"Let's go again... one, two, three... push!"

"AHHHHHGGGGGG HOLY SHIT! I WILL NEVER GO TO EUROPE AND IT'S YOUR FAUUULTTT..."

After that squeal I managed to hear a baby cry. (Y/N)'s screaming stopped. I heard people moved around but nobody said anything.

"Hello?, (Y/N)?, Emily?...". JJ and Luke looked at my confused face and for a second they were as expectant as I was.

"Reid. Congratulations. Your daughter was just born and she's gorgeous,” said Prentiss over the phone. I let out a big sigh of relief. I could hear Emily trying to contain her enthusiasm.

"Thanks God!... how is (Y/N)?" I hastened to ask.

“She is exhausted, but I think she’ll fine. Now both are being taken to the hospital in the chopper. We are now also on our way there".

The remaining hour of travel to the hospital was endless for me. I just wanted to see (Y/N) and my daughter. I only wished they had arrived safely at the hospital and everything was fine. I was silent all the trip. Neither Luke nor JJ wanted to disturb my thoughts, knowing that no matter what they said it wasn't going to relieve my anxiety.

When I got to the hospital, I ran out of the car and went up to the maternity area. In the hall I saw Prentiss and Rossi who when they saw me they smiled at me. That was a good sign, right? I ran to where they were. Emily hastened to speak.

"Everything is fine. They quickly got here and were checked. They did all the necessary tests and the health of both are perfect”. With pure happiness I hugged Prentiss and began to cry. I was releasing all the stress and worry that I held back during the car trip.

“Thank you, thank you for being with her. Thanks for helping her when I couldn't do it,” I murmured with my head buried on Emily's shoulder.

“You don't have to thank us for anything. When we tell you the real reason for this whole thing, you're going to hate us" said Emily laughing. Then it was Rossi' turn.

"Congratulations kid. You have a lovely daughter and a very brave wife. You are a lucky man” he told me while hugging me.

"Where are they? Can I see them?" I asked.

“Yes, they are waiting for you. In that room,” Prentiss said pointing to the last door in the hallway. Without saying anything else I ran there. I poked my head out the door and saw (Y/N) with a bundle wrapped in her arms, my daughter. She immediately noticed my presence.

"Spencer... she just fell asleep." I approached as silently as possible. I was excited, but I was scared too. When I was next to the bed I could see that little lump with her eyes closed and breathing comfortably in her mother's arms. My heart immediately melted. Tears started running down my cheeks. I could tell (Y/N) was crying too. There I remembered again the nightmare that all this must have been for her.

"I'm sorry my love. I'm so sorry that it had to be in this way. I'm sorry I wasn't with you when you needed me most…”. I tried to apologize.

“It’s my fault too. I was reckless. I shouldn't have left the apartment…” she said still sobbing.

“You had no way of knowing. She came earlier…”. I said looking at my daughter. She was beautiful. She looked like an angel. Our little angel.

“She wanted to meet her dad…” (Y/N) said smiling.

"And her mom ..." I replied, putting an arm around (Y/N)'s neck, sitting next to her on the edge of the bed. She rested her head on my arm and looked at me smiling. I leaned in enough to kiss her. “You are tremendously brave (Y/N). You know I admire that about you. And is one of the many reasons why I love you”. I reconnected my lips to hers.

“I love you too Spencer Reid. Despite having yelled at you all those things over the phone…”. We both started laughing.

“I think I deserve it anyway… I promise to take you to Europe on the next vacation. This time I will keep my word”. I sentenced.

"Liar..." she replied smiling.

After a few minutes in silence contemplating and cuddling our little girl, (Y/N) spoke again.

"Spencer?"

"Yes?" I replied still staring my little girl in awe.

"I know...  I know we had already discussed our daughter’s name and we had reached an agreement about it..."

"Yes. We did. It’s true. What's up with that?". I asked looking at (Y/N).

“In these hours I've been thinking about it and… everything that happened today, I don't think I could have handled without Prentiss there. She was with me the whole time and… I don't know, if our daughter is here now is largely thanks to her. And well, also thanks to the fact we conceived her a little over 36 weeks ago, of course..."

(Y/N) was right. Although the entire team was involved and contributed to being able to be with our baby now, Prentiss was the one who was with her at all the time.

"If you want, Emily seems like a perfect name for our little girl, and Prentiss seems like a good godmother to me". I replied to (Y/N). She nodded smiling.

"It’s perfect. It certainly is. Do you agree Emily Diana Reid?" (Y/N) asked to our little girl swinging her in her arms. Emily let out a groan, frowning, before resumed her sleep.

“I think she agrees. In fact, she's already mimicked Prentiss," I said jokingly.

"Wait until we tell her..." said (Y/N) laughing and thinking how Prentiss will react with the news.

——————–

[degrassi-fanatic]

Stay Awhile

As Prentiss steps out of her car, she can already see the clusters of families standing around in the parking lot. Not too far away from them, the children are already dressed in their soccer uniforms, warming up for their game on the field.

Ducking back down to her car, she reaches across the driver’s seat to the passenger side and retrieves two yellow paper bags dotted with white stars; one with a small tag that reads ‘Henry LaMontagne’ and the other ‘Jack Hotchner’. With a bag in each hand, Prentiss uses her foot to kick the door shut behind her.

Although she’s only been standing in the parking lot for a couple of seconds, she can already feel the sun beating down on her sensitive skin; never has she been more grateful for JJ’s constant nagging about sunscreen application. It feels like the hottest day of the summer and she’s sure by the time Reid arrives, he will have read dozen weather reports to back up her claim.

Prentiss maneuvers past numerous trophy wives and bored looking husbands to make her way over to the metal bleachers. As she looks over the tops of their heads, she tries to scan the rows to find any familiar faces.

“Emily!” she hears someone call out.

Near the top of the bleachers, Prentiss spots Will standing up from his seat as he waves to get her attention. She can’t help but notice that there isn’t anyone else up there with him.

Oh no.

It’s not that she hates Will. She doesn’t.

It’s just rather awkward to try and maintain a conversation with a person when you essentially stole their girlfriend from them.

In Will’s defense, he’s never outright called Prentiss a homewrecker. In fact, he’s always so kind and courteous to her; Will invites her and JJ over for dinner with him and Henry, he always asks about her wellbeing when he calls JJ for whatever reason, Will even had Henry bring her a gift for Christmas when he was staying with his mother for the week.

He may not have called Prentiss a homewrecker but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t believe it. It doesn’t mean that the thought isn’t somewhere in deep recesses of his mind.

Usually, Prentiss doesn’t have to stress over talking to Will but that’s only because they always have JJ or Henry there to act as a buffer between the two of them and stop a potential conflict from arising.

Now, however, JJ is nowhere in sight, Henry is out on the field, and Prentiss is a moment away from fleeing the scene.

The only reason she doesn’t is because she doesn’t need Will talking to JJ about how her girlfriend ran like a mad woman before their son’s soccer game.

Prentiss takes in a deep breath as she climbs the steps, making it to the top far quicker than she wanted to. Will motions for her to take a seat next to him with an easy smile. Once she’s sitting, Will bumps shoulders with her good naturedly.

“Hey,” she greets politely as she sets the gift bags down by her feet, “Where’s JJ?”

“JJ forgot to buy the brownies for the potluck after the game.” he answers with a little laugh, “And now she’s probably speeding down the roads to get here in time.”

His slight at JJ’s driving loosens up the knot in her chest but, not by much though.

“What about the others?” she asks, for the lack of anything better to add.

“Aaron and Spencer are getting the Gatorade from the car. Dave’s on the sidelines, helping the kids warm up,” Will informs as he points to a far away figure that Prentiss assumes is Rossi, “Penelope and Derek are running late because they woke up with hangovers from their alcohol binge last night.”

She lets out a chuckle at Garcia and Morgan’s predicament. Why on Earth they decided to go out to bars the night before a children’s soccer game, Prentiss will never know. She’s just glad that she decided to turn down their offer.

As Will picks up a water bottle from the ground, he glances over to the yellow gift bag near Prentiss’s feet.

“What’s that?” he asks curiously before unscrewing the cap of the bottle.

“Um, it’s, uh, it’s a gift,” she says, “For Jack and Henry.”

“That’s so sweet, Emily.” Will practically coos, “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to.”

Although Will flashes her what she would consider a sincere smile from anyone else, Prentiss cannot help but wonder if he’s having any of those thoughts about her being a homewrecker right now.

His hands reach for the tops of the gift bag labelled for Henry but before he touches it, he looks up at her.

“May I?” he asks, waiting for permission.

Prentiss nods.

As he pushes past the sheets of colourful tissue to get to the actual gift, Prentiss grows more anxious with every passing second. Her back goes ramrod straight. She begins to rock herself gingerly as she smooths her palms down her thighs.

She watches as Will pulls out the Lego set with gentle fingers.

There’s no real reason why Prentiss had bought it. She had been simply wandering through the mall when she spotted the set displayed in the window of some toy store. From the moment she casted her eyes on it, she felt some inexplicable pull to purchase it. For two weeks it had sat on the floor of her closet until Prentiss could find an excuse to give it to the boy she had in mind.

“My God, Emily.” he breathes out.

Her stomach drops. Her hands stop moving.

“Is it bad?” she questions urgently, “Because I can return it, if it—”

“No, no,” Will interrupts gently, “It’s just that Henry’s been raving about this exact Lego set for the past month.”

“He has?”

“I thought JJ would’ve told you.” he mumbles to himself as he stares at the box, “God, it’s perfect. He’s going to love it.”

He looks up from the gift to give her another one of his grins and a wave of guilt courses through Prentiss.

How could she have ruined this man’s family?

“I’m sorry, Will.” she blurts out.

“Pardon?” he asks as he places the box back into the gift bag.

“I’m sorry for everything,” she explains as she waves her hand between them, “For the whole thing between you, me, and JJ.”

As Will sets the bag back down on the ground, he shoots her a puzzled look. His brows furrowed together, while he’s deep in thought.

“You’re not seriously apologizing for dating your girlfriend, are you?” he asks.

“I, uh, I…” Prentiss stammers as she searches for the right words, “Yes?”

“Listen, Emily,” Will begins to speak as he turns to face her, their knees knocking, “I loved JJ, and I still love her, as the mother of my child. And I know she loves me too because I’m the father of her kid too. We parted on good terms.

“You shouldn’t feel guilty about being with her.”

Will grabs her hand between the two of them and gives it a gentle squeeze.

Not for the first time, Prentiss can understand why JJ used to be in love with Will. He’s a good guy. He’s one of the best guys Prentiss knows.

“You don’t think I’m overstepping right now?” she asks, “I mean, I’m at your son’s soccer game.”

“Because he wants you here and so does JJ, and so do I.” he reminds her with another squeeze of her hand before letting it go.

“You do?”

“Course I do,” he reassures with a chuckle, “I have a feeling you’re going to be staying awhile.”

Although her face is no doubt red, she returns Will’s smile with a nod. She’s saved from having to respond by JJ’s sudden arrival. Her hands are full of store bought brownies and her car keys.. The strap of her purse is starting to slide off her shoulder. The only thing taming her hair is a pair of sunglasses perched at the top of her head.

“Hey guys,” she says a little breathless as she sits down beside Prentiss, “I’m not late, am I?”

Both Will and Prentiss shake their heads, their eyes bright with amusement at JJ’s disheveled state.

“They’re still warming up.” he informs her.

“Oh thank god.” JJ lets out as her shoulders finally sag with relief.

Without thinking too hard about it, Prentiss wrestles one of JJ’s hands free from the container of brownies, and does something she never used to do in front of Will; she plants a soft kiss on the back of it.

[tarithenurse]

Stolen - 10

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson &/x fem!gifted!reader Content: Angst. Feels. Plot. Regerts. Fluffy inclinations. Mentions of torture. References to past MCU events. A/N: *radiates love to everyone* *begins singing Tina Turner’s “You’re simply the best”* Ask or reblog if you want a tag.

10. Leave a Scar

…   Reader  …

Two days later and you’re still praying that Loki has no idea what you’ve heard even if the chances seem remote. He’s grown quiet. Brooding. Most of the time he’s off somewhere without you but when he returns he finds a secluded corner and a carafe of wine to wash down his gloominess with.

He’s plotting how to kill me. It makes sense – haven’t you done what he wanted you to? The talk about keeping you safe must have been nothing but a ruse to eventually break your spirit completely before delivering the final blow. On the other hand, it seems like an awful lot of trouble to go to if he was just going to waste the effort by being emo. Plotting to kill someone else? Now, that would make sense considering his track record.

On and on your thoughts run in circles and not even the beautiful view from the balcony can provide enough of a distraction today.

“Tell me, mortal.” His voice startles you, coming from right behind you. “What’s plaguing your mind, hmm?”

There’s nowhere to run to, nowhere to hide from those piercing, green eyes boring into the back of your skull. Pulling at the sleeves of the purple dress (kindly lend to you by the Älfir), you consider how to out-lie a liar.

“What...what is going to happen now?” you manage to ask, forcing your voice past a lump in your throat.

The sigh that fans your shoulder is chilling. “It seems I have to change my plans.”

Unsure of anything, this isn’t what you had expected. Turning towards him, the somberness clings to his face and cuts his already sharp features from ice. Only now do you realize that there had been a spring in his step and a softness to his gaze a short week ago but since then something has extinguished the light.

Your hand twitches as you restrain yourself from reaching out to stroke his cheek. “What’s happened?” Did he see that?

If he did, nothing in his demeanour divulges anything as Loki steps as close as he can without the mossy greens of his clothing brushing against purple. A thousand worlds could come and go that second and you would never have noticed because the Asgardian’s presence is all-encompassing, sucking you into his personal vortex of pride and pain, stubbornness and deference.

“Why would you care what has happened?” His words are cold like blades of ice, but this time you see through it and wait him out. He resigns. “The Älfir’s magic is not strong enough. They cannot restore Jotunheim.” Deflated.

“If they could’ve then they would’ve healed the Priestess too.” Biting your tongue off suddenly feels like a really good idea.

The silence is oppressing, drawing out the seconds as the man looks you over as if you just dropped from the moon. Like he’s seeing me for the first time. The sensation is far from comforting, something that’s enhanced as the thin lips begin to curve into a crooked smile revealing white teeth.

“You did that.” Man, you hate the way he practically purrs.

“Barely.” You step backwards, bumping into a pillar.

Even now, you can’t help but notice how smoothly he moves as he follows in your footsteps. “But you did.”

Somehow managing to sidestep the god, you make it two steps into the shade of the room before his hands have gotten hold and you’re twirled, forced against the cold wall.

“Don’t -”

“Shush.” He places a cold finger on your lips, making you comply automatically. “We all have sacrifices to make.”

A smidgen of logic in the back of your skull is screaming at you to shut up, to let him have this victory while you figure out a way to get out of the situation. Of course you don’t listen to it, deciding instead to pull yourself up to your full height (as unimpressive as it may be compared to Loki) and glare at him. There’s even a moment there where you impress yourself by how calm your voice is when you answer.

“No. I won’t be your puppet anymore.” Black eyebrows shoot upwards at your words. “And if you kill me, at least I know you’ll still be crying every night.”

That’s the instant the sense of heroic pride dies.

The emerald eyes you secretly admire change into a sea of blood while a flood of blue, broken by ridges and lines cover what skin you can see and causes you to gasp, drawing in air so cold you can feel the lungs crackle in complaint. If at least Loki would snarl or growl, then it would somehow make sense, but he just smiles, the white teeth suddenly similar to the fangs of a predator. A wolf...and I’m the lamb.

“Mortal. Pet.” A claw traces along your cheekbone before scraping down your throat. “I thought we were coming to an understanding? You would obey my every wish in return for the life of those you love?” Nodding is the only option. “Tsk tsk. Perhaps I have underestimated you, wench, thinking you had a soul, a heart. Hoping you would recognize real evil when held up against the light of truth.”

Well...I’m already doomed. “You told a story -!”

“A story?!” This time he does snarl. “I’ll show you story!”

The cold of his hands burn the skin on your forehead, wrist, and palm as he slams your hand against his brow and mirrors the movement.

...  Loki   ...

The first glimpses are simple until the events fully unfold. Falling – he will hate the sensation forever. Falling through nothingness for half an eternity until he lands more dead than alive...except this time he’s watching it from the outside. We’re watching it. Though the Jotun can’t see it, he knows that [Y/N] is there with him, a spectator without the option to look away when the actor is found and brought to the Titan.

What were months or maybe years at the mercy of Thanos and his Children flash by in a few minutes, perhaps. Torture, mind games, hatred twisted and turned until it points back to the outcast prince and penetrates his soul, leaving it to fester before he finally succumbs to the touch of a sceptre. From there the events unfold in a blur only occasionally brought into focus when a part of the fallen god tries to rebel against the shackles.

It’s only when the Loki they watch is lying at the feet of the Avengers that clarity is fully restored, though one kind of shackles is replaced by another. Then: a speck of blue grants an opportunity impossible to dismiss.

A vision. A memory. A nightmare.

Loki’s hands fall to his sides. It’s over. The wall in the Älfir temple looks less real than what [Y/N] and the Jotun have just witnessed, but the wide eyes staring up at him brings reality back like a kick in the balls. She knows. Everyone knows when they witness the recollections of someone else – no amount of so called rational thinking can convince them they have hallucinated because they feel it as if they lived it themselves.

“[Y/N]...”

Tears are welling in her eyes, lips quivering as she tries to root herself in the present. “He...y-you...” What I wouldn’t do to take away your pain. “That was -” A sniffle interrupts her.

He hates it. Hates the despair she’s drowning in at his hands. Truly, he has proven to be the monster he claimed not to be. Losing control and forcing [Y/N] through this nightmare serves no purpose at all.

“I will...I will ensure your safety and then you will never hear from me again,” he promises shamefully, “now...get some rest.”

...

Flat on his back and with the hands behind his head, Loki’s gaze is fixed on a point far beyond the ceiling above. Dawn is nearing yet sleep has evaded him, chased away by memories and guilt. It served no purpose. Priding himself of his logic, the turmoil raging inside his heart is has pushed the Jotun to act rashly and he hates it because he wishes to be more than a beast that simply lashes out when cornered. He doesn’t want to be the monster he behaved like. No, the man in him has to find a way to -

“Loki?” The whisper is hesitant, almost too quiet to hear. “Are you...are you awake?”

He sits up, bare feet on the stone floor as if to ground himself. The covers slides from his chest, revealing the pale skin in the darkness but [Y/N] probably can’t see it with her human eyes as she stands in the doorway.

Draped in the soft-flowing silk from a borrowed shift, she could almost pass for one of the ghosts from the fanciful tales children enjoy to fear. Loki can see her better than that. He can see her face straining as she tries to find him in the dark, and her arms wrapped tightly around the ribs below her bosom perhaps to find some comfort.

“Yeah...I’m awake,” the god rasps softly in return. Is that regret or relief in your sigh?

Sitting there, waiting for the unknown, a tension begins to permeate the air and send tendrils to every nerve ending of Loki’s body. A coil tightens in his chest and it becomes nearly unbearable when [Y/N] tentatively walks towards him, her feet careful as they seek out the right path. A few steps before the goal, her hands reach out to locate the Jotun and he has taken them before thinking to stop himself.

Steeling herself with a deep breath, the mortal braves the silence. “This doesn’t mean we’re okay, but...I believe you now.”

“[Y/N] -”

“Shut up.” He does. “I’m trying to say that...that I get it a-and I trust you.”

Loki has no answer. Gaping slightly at her, he tries to come to terms with the woman’s foolishness. Once or twice a sentence nearly forms in his mind only to dissolve before it can be uttered and the task increases in difficulty as she shyly shifts her weight from one leg to the other, toes intertwining as best they can while she bites her lip.

He obviously startles her as he stands. Yet you don’t run, my dear? A shiver rolls through her the moment he embraces the lithe form.

“Oh! Oh, we’re...hugging? Okay, we can hug,” she babbles, unknowingly making the god smile into her hair.

It’s impossible to say how long they stand like this or when [Y/N]’s warm fingertips start a slow dance across his naked back. Then again, time hardly matters as the Jotun pulls back enough to study her face, smelling her hectic breath that fans against his skin.

“Thank you,” he says, but means I think I love you, “you should rest.”

Her hands retreat, and right away Loki misses the scalding touch and the heat of her body as she navigates the darkness to find her own bed.

[ninjakitty15]

Cold As Death (Loki)

Chapter One: Looks That Could Kill

By all accounts, today should've been like the countless other days before it. Just another day stuck in a glass cell with the occasional "scientist" trying to figure out how to harness something no regular schmuck or mortal could hope to grasp by poking, prodding, and bleeding me. But this was Hydra for you, try to change one idiots mind, and several more idiots tell you you're wrong. German, American, or other, there are evil idiots in every corner of every world, that's for damn sure. At this point I couldn't figure out why they still kept me here, locked away from everything when they couldn't what they wanted from me. They already tried torturing it out of me like pain would make me crumble, I just ended up wincing or laughing depending on what they did as there were times I actually wasn't sure I felt anything, not because they did it often enough or it was that bad, I was just sorta dead inside so some nerve endings didn't always work.

The only thing remotely unusual about today though was it wasn't as busy where they stashed me, hands locked in power dampening shackles and a metal muzzle to boot. At some point earlier they attempted to keep me sedated and unconscious but I woke myself back up once they left me alone thinking I was no longer a problem. Amateurs. As I sat in the middle of the cell, eyes closed but fully alert and coherent, I felt before I ever heard a presence that felt otherworldly to me. They were silent, seeming to observe with caution as I felt it get closer and start to circle the container then pause right where I knew the controls of the cage to be. There was a fifty fifty chance this presence would let me out, the other half being they come in and another round of human pinata would start but instead of candy it would just be blood and a lot of bad puns and jokes falling out of me, maybe drop a few s/m mentions. Serious folks tend to get real uncomfortable when you get sexual on them. If you can't laugh about sex, you don't have a sense of humor.  A button was pressed on the panel and a door formed in front of me where the glass was and I got a stronger feel of who or what was in front of me on the other side. They were definitely not your average Joe, probably not even human and flowing with a lifeforce not even mutants could possibly obtain. An immortal for sure. They took one step toward me and because this wasn't something I'd encountered since my containment, I instinctively tensed which made them pause again.

"You're awake?" A smooth almost british accented voice, noted softly yet curiously.

I opened my eyes then just to confirm that as the muzzle was holding back my usual smartass responses. They was actually one tall man clad in leather and gold metal, watching me carefully with piercing blue/green eyes. Maybe it was seeing the same ugly mugs every day for gods know how long I've been down here and finally seeing a new face, maybe it was the fact he was wearing my two favorite colors and pulled it off better than anyone else I've seen try that. But damn did he look good. It might also be the killer jawline and physique too. His eyes fixated on the muzzle for a moment and a hardened scowl formed for some reason, surprisingly not twisting the dashing look like it does most angry men. And then suddenly I could speak again but opted to gasp like a dying beached fish because damn did it feel good to not have airways being blocked anymore. Vaguely I wondered if my lips were chapped from the damned thing before smiling maniacally.

"Finally, oral freedom!" I cried overdramatically.  "I don't usually offer though unless its returned, all's fair in love and fun stuff."

The man cracked a small smile and ventured a step closer to me. "What are you? And why are you in here?"

"Could ask you the same thing, hun," i quipped. "And seeing as I was here first, you should answer first."

He chuckled and took a more confident step toward me though his lifeforce strengthened like a guard around him. Before he could answer himself though, a booming and somehow familiar voice called out. "Loki, have you found anything down there?!" Which caused the dude now named Loki to cringe at the interruption and sigh.

"No one here but us ghouls," I told him in answer.

"They have a prisoner down here, brother!" replied Loki though his eyes never left me.

"Prisoner's such a harsh word, I prefer forced resident or illegal obtained house guest," I informed him. "You answer his questions, but not mine. It's because I'm black, isn't it?" I was actually what one would describe in terms of skin color as not recently dead pale white.

"I thought he was answer enough, I'm sure you know of Thor, he likes to play the hero of this realm," Loki replied to me, an eyebrow arched.

"The Norse God of shitty weather? Y'all aren't busy with cooler realms?" I asked.

"This wasn't my choice," was his dry response, making me smile more.

I snickered. "Spoken like a true sibling. So you came down here, an alien immortal, because your big brother told you so. My heart bleeds for you really."

He glared at my unabashed sarcasm and crossed his arms over his chest. "Now answer mine before he comes in and makes a great mess of this place."

"More than the people that came with this building already have? That's gotta take talent. But I'll bite. They hunted me down gods know how long ago and attempted to extract something from me that makes me awesome, didn't work obviously or they'd make a mess not even your brother could trump and we wouldn't be here talking. Too valuable to be killed, though they couldn't if they tried, too stubborn to be experimented on. Where'd they go anyway? Are you guys the reason I didn't get my daily prodding?"

"My brothers...friends dealt with the ones they could find, if they're anything like their namesake, I'm sure there's more in hiding waiting for reinforcements or something like that."

Another man leaped down out of nowhere that definitely wasn't Thor as he didn't have long golden locks or a beard, his head and half his face were actually covered by a mask and instead of a hammer was a shield in one arm.

"Thor failed to mention it was a woman," the new dude noted.

"And my gender matters because...?" I wasn't actually offended by this, just messing with him to get a reaction which worked as he genuinely looked bashful, making me cackle. "For all the armor you people wear, it's still surprisingly easy to get under your skin. Maybe I've just been here so long, they're just fashion statements now, if everyone's wearing leather armor count me in!"

"Sorry to disappoint, but it's just us," Loki told me.

"She tell you why they're holding her?" the new man asked him.

"They're trying to steal her powers though I'm not sure what they are yet."

"Only the best kind of course," I told them. "It's all the rage these days, all the Hydra agents gotta have it."

"Well they can find it somewhere else as you're free from them but you can tell us all about the what and why, if you don't mind," the new man said.

"You say that so politely but I'm getting the sense you weren't asking. I'll comply if you give me a hand here, mine are a bit tied up at the moment." I raised my shackled hands as high as able since they were chained to the metal floor beneath me.

The new man was quick to break the chains connecting me to the floor before Loki waved a hand like Jedi Knight and the shackled sprang open, dropping to the floor with a loud clang. I flexed my hands and shook them a bit to get feeling back with them being cramped and slowly got to my feet, staggering a bit as my leg bones cracked from the sudden use and weight. I sighed in sweet relief and relaxed with a slight grin. "Alrighty then!" With my hands free, so was my powers just a bit more and I could collect and stretch it out, testing the waters. That seemed to be enough for Loki to notice being a power person as well and both eyebrows shot up as he probably felt what I was doing. I winked at him before turning to the other guy. "Onward and upward!"

With the new guy leading me out of the building and Loki being my tail, I was on my way to freedom for good before being nearly blinded by that god awful ball of fire in the sky, everyone else calls the sun. I recoiled and refrained from hissing like an angry vampire, stumbling back into Loki in the process who steadied me and smirked at my reaction to daylight. The new guy looked back hearing me cursing at it and raised an eyebrow in question but didn't actually ask anything.

"What? I'm not a morning person," I responded before straightening up but subtly elbowing Loki in the stomach, causing a soft grunt from behind while accidentally hitting my funny bone which wasn't that funny at all as my entire arm went numb and tingly at the same time. "Stupid toned god with your stupid abs of granite."

The new guy stopped walking and pressed a hand against his ear. "We're out, all the agents we could flush out are dealt with. A ride would be nice." Ah he was talking on a com of some kind it seems. How high tech yet old school. Within a few moments, an even more hightech fighter plane of some kind hovered low enough for him to climb in first then offer his hand to pull me up as I was unfortunately not remotely as tall or long legged as either man near me. I looked around the plane curiously to see another man and a redhaired woman at the front as pilots, the woman looking back and landing her eyes on me as well.

"Are you the prisoner Thor spoke of?" she asked.

"I'm the illegally obtained house guest, yes." Loki snickered behind me and I reminded myself not to elbow him again as my arm still hadn't gotten proper feeling back.

The woman smiled as well and nodded. "Buckle up then, we're heading back to base, could get bumpy. All good back there, Steve?" she called after the first new guy who was now Steve.

"Ready when you are," he answered, sitting at the tail end of the machine.

The plane rose up and shot forward at an illegally unsafe speed above the city. Loki had settled across from me, eyes ever studying me but unlike the agents that actually did and more, they weren't malicious or power hungry, just cautious and curious. I decided to test his resolve then and locked my eyes on his in an unwavering staring contest. "First one to blink loses."

"Is that why they muzzled you? Because if you're not under their skin, you're cracking jokes?" he asked.

"If you don't have a sense of humor you don't have much to live for and that's how they win. Also no, it's not how I talked, but who I talked to or when it wasn't them."

"To contain your powers, like they did your hands then. And they didn't get anything from you?"

"What I have can't be drained or pulled out or copied, it's not specifically found in something like DNA or an organ or something physical even. Those guys claim to be scientists but real scientists accept facts as they are when proof is found and I'm living proof they're all frauds with no results. I bet they don't even have a Ph.D."

"They're Hydra, they're funded by power and money, not degrees and universities," Steve spoke up.

"So you're telling me they just pulled a few crazy people with crazyass theories on things from a hat and told them they're scientists now? I should've gone to college there, I wanna have money and be told I have a job with more money. All I got from mine a piece of paper saying I know some things and then years of disappointment from being unemployed. I probably look good in a lab coat too."

"A stark difference from your current attire of all black and hooded," Loki pointed out.

I snorted. "All they let me wear after ruining the one I was caught in from their experimentation, they thought the attire should fit the power, how unimaginative is that? Let's just advertise exactly what I can do to everyone around me, that'll throw them off for sure."

"And what can you do?" he challenged.

"Uh-uh, spoilers sweety. A preview of which will cost you extra."

"But we just gave you a free ride," chipped the male pilot.

"Hey, you're not part of this conversation, and I don't even know where we're going, this could be a free ride to something worse. Like Shield or the dentist."

"Bad experience? Ate too much candy as a kid, didn't you?" the pilot guessed.

"If you think there's such thing as too much candy, then your childhood sucked and I pity your past."

"Tony's gonna love this one," mused the female pilot. "What's your name?"

"I've been out of custody for like 15 minutes and finally someone asks! It's Noelle, Nell for short. And you pilots are...?"

"About to land for starters," the man said. "I'm Clint, she's Nat, and we're at base so everyone out of my plane."

"That's Tony's plane actually," quipped Loki as the plane landed and everyone unbuckled. "Come along, meet the rest of my brother's friends."

[ootori-sibs]

Kyoya's second shot

Episode two: The shadow council

The week passed without anything notable happening, Haruhi and Tamaki were a lot better with public affections, and it truly disgusted Kyoya, Haruhi didn't even seem to care that much about the king's affections- always seeming so disinterested in her godly boyfriend.

But that would soon change, he could get Tamaki the love he deserved. It was Friday after all, and everyone he'd emailed had agreed to show up. He watched the other hosts gathering their stuff to leave after he'd gone over the budget and weeks profits with them, he felt a fizzy sort of feeling- excitement. It was the first time in literal months he'd felt like this, usually he just felt sickened or hollow. He was almost excited to feel excited! He knew being evil would make him feel better!

He only had twenty minutes until everyone arrived, so he quickly made his way down into the second hall, it was still huge, but a lot more modest then the main hall. He set up a table, with a chair for everyone, making sure to set seating arrangements that would be the most efficient for how each person could contribute to the discussion. He set up his whiteboard, read to present his ideas in slideshow format as he was used to with the hosts- it truly was the best way to convey information to dummies. He even lit candles instead of using the chandelier, he knew the first thing to being an effective villain: presentation, and he knew that candles would go a long way to presenting his plans- especially considering his demographic. Of course he needed to accommodate the more morally correct party that would be attending, and the best way he saw to do so were via the snacks served at the meeting; chocolate chip cookies, small garlic crackers, apple slices, and some watermelon treats he'd picked up from a commoner store- specifically for the commoner.

Before he knew it, there was a shadowy figure in the corner of the room. Kyoya sighed, staring right at it. "Step out of the shadows would you Nekozawa, I hope you're not planning to usurp my title." He joked calmly, causing the mage to jump, not expecting to have been spotted so soon.

"My, my, Ootori-san, awfully perceptive aren't you?" Nekozawa sculked out of where he was hidden, heading slowly towards the table. "I'm intrigued to know what you have in store for this meeting of yours, not to mention finding out exactly who else you've invited." He sits down in his designated seat, looking over the snacks that had been presented.

Kyoya chuckles at that, inspecting one of the watermelon treats he'd picked up. "Well-"

"The president of the black magic club meeting with the school demon lord? Now this is a scoop." Ah, Komatsuzawa was here. Kyoya glances towards him, nodding curtly.

"You were looking for a conspiracy, were you not?" He questioned, knowing all too well the answer. "Sit down," he invited, gesturing to the designated chair set out for the head of the newspaper club. He watched as the Akira took his seat, looking around curiously and clutching a little clipboard. "You don't need to take notes, I will provide transcripts after the fact."

"Yes, well, I would like to take notes of simple details I note during the meeting, I know you'll be doing the same Ootori, I don't doubt the hypocrisy but I resent the businessly attitude towards your scandals."

"It's not a scandal until it's published, Komatsuzawa." Kyoya raised an eyebrow at him, knowing too well how he would have to reign this boy in. Akira wanted nothing more than to expose Tamaki for whatever he could, and Kyoya refused to let that happen.

"I hope you know I lied to my brother's face for you, why didn't he know you'd invited me to a meeting, what are you planning?" Chika Haninozuka stood there, still in his karate outfit, hands on his hips. When he noticed all eyes were on him, he began to walk towards the table, looking around.

Kyoya smiled. "Thank you Chika, I appreciate the lie." He gives a small bow of his head, knowing that lying to an older sibling was nowhere near the pain Chika made it out to be. "To answer your first question; your brother would be highly disapproving of my plans. He- and that goes for all the other hosts- cannot know what goes down at these meetings. Understood?" That last part was spoken to all of them, and it was a clear threat. He had mirrored the tone he'd heard his father use on his own underlings many many times.

Clearly it worked, he saw all three of them freeze in place, eyes like frightened animals. Kyoya felt something, a rush of… power. This must be how his father, even his brothers, felt every day- Kyoya had to have more. He felt a smirk resting on his face, going to grab his black book when he heard the door behind him open.

"Oh, uh- am I late? Sorry I had to get changed first!" Here came the commoner, Arai was running just a little late, but Kyoya was just glad he was here. He watched in amusement as his other guests' expressions turned from surprise to confusion at the sight of the commoner they'd never seen before.

Kyoya himself just smiled and gestured to the commoner's seat. "Not to worry Arai, we wouldn't start without you." He watched the poor boy take a seat and went straight for the watermelon snacks as predicted, Kyoya took a quick note before the meeting.

19:19 - Everyone has arrived, the meeting shall begin. The commoner was late. Chika made Honey aware that he was staying late, but did not provide the real reason.

"So," Kyoya began, hands tucked behind his back, "I'm sure you're all wondering why I've called you all here today?" There was a resounding murmur of curiosity and Kyoya continued. "Well I'm sure you're- nearly all of you at least, are familiar with my-" he coughs a little pointedly at that, "interests?" He watched both Umehito and Akira exchange a look, almost looking concerned, and he sighed, before turning to Chika and Arai, who both have no clue what he means. "Well to put it lightly, as much as I see her as a friend and equal: Haruhi is my enemy." That was the most honest Kyoya has ever verbally been, and he watched in what was almost fear, as each and every one of them clocked on to what he was saying

"Oh now that's one hell of a scoop!" Akira really couldn't keep his damn mouth shut could he? Kyoya shot a simple death glare at him, but was quickly distracted by the sight of Umehito pulling out one of those little wooden cursed dolls. Kyoya sighed for a second time.

"Look, I didn't want it to come to this, but something must be done-" -or he was going to lose his goddamn mind, that part stayed silent. "So I've come up with a plan, one that will benefit all of you in both the long and short term." The moment their own benefit was brought up, each of their eyes went wide, greedy for more than they had- all except the commoner. Typical.

Arai had frowned, crossing his arms slightly. "I'm sorry, could you explain how Haruhi is your enemy? Sorry again if I sound dumb, I'm not quite understanding..?" Oh of course, Arai couldn't have any way to be aware

"Well you see, Haruhi has a boyfriend. That boyfriend just happens to be-" Kyoya attempted to explain, being completely interrupted by Nekozawa, rude as usual.

"- Souh-san, president of the host club and the person Ootori-san's been in love with for the past...year? Year and a half?" He pondered the maths quietly, Arai's eyes widening with every word.

He turned to Kyoya in mixed shock and indignation. "You want to steal her boyfriend? If you knew him longer why didn't you ask him out?" ...commoners are so daring…

There was complete silence from the other three, hell- even Kyoya himself was shocked into silence. His rage was very quickly reaching it's point, fists clench. "Oh. Oh I'm sorry, why don't you go up to the guy that never shuts up about 'making every woman happy' and tell him you've been in love with him from the day you met him? See how that goes?" He let out a hefty sigh, taking his glasses off and running a hand through his hair. "I didn't even know he was bi until he started asking for advice on how to confess to her." That was probably the most painful of Kyoya's life that evening, that stabbing pain was unbearable yet he couldn't say a thing to Tamaki about it.

He put his glasses back on to see poor Arai shaking like a terrified feral cat, maybe he'd been a little snappy with his words… he looked around to see everyone else wide eyed too. "...my apologies, I'm not sure what came over me just then." He coughed awkwardly, switching his slideshow on and pulling out a pointer to help demonstrate. "Let's just get to the matter at hand shall we?" He smiled.

The plan was simple and they all had a part to play, poor Arai clearly had a lot of objections but was too shaken to voice any of them, Kyoya would have to discuss it with him afterwards. The snacks were gone pretty fast, luckily Kyoya managed to take a couple for himself between explanations, surprisingly the watermelons were the most popular- most folks there never having tried commoner's food before. Akira seemed more than excited to have so many opportunities to publish articles that were sure to go viral across the school and maybe further, Umehito was definitely up for some spooky happenings, the moment Chika heard he got to fight Honey and win he was on board, and Arai… if Kyoya was honest, Arai was probably just too frightened to object. He was definitely the weakest party there: Chika could kill him easily, Nekozawa had more than enough 'power', Akira had all the connections he could ever want, and Kyoya… was an Ootori- not to mention being a high ranking person in Ouran if his own volition. Even one of them had enough money to completely ruin Arai's life, and enough spite to do so if pushed. It really wasn't all too fair on him.

Two hours had passed by the time Kyoya finally finished laying out the details of his plan, at least the main overview. Turns out, without Tamaki to reel him in, Kyoya's plans can get a little over detailed- that was where the devil was after all. He smiled, putting his pointer away. "-and that would be where we part ways. Any questions?" He looked at the four of them, waiting for someone to say something, Chika visibly frowned, raising his hand.

"How does this help us at all?"

Kyoya knew this question was coming and he relished in its arrival, clicking to the next slide, with a picture of each of them, labelled with what they would get. "Well it's obvious what I get, but what you get, Chika, is both victory over your brother, but the knowledge in which you'll be annoying the crap out of him." As a younger sibling himself, he knew full well what that sparkle in Chika's eyes meant, the tiny Honey clone was more than on board. "For Nekozawa; to chance to exercise your powers and befriend Tamaki like I know you've been failing to do, trust me- it's alright." He chuckles a little, they were in similar situations, albeit Umehito's was a platonic one. "For Komatsuzawa it will be publicly, I know how you've wanted it so much, not to mention you're finally getting permission to cover the host club- isn't that what you'd asked me for?" He knew he was right, and he knew that Akira knew he was right. He was giving the boy what he'd previously denied him. "And for you Arai…" he chuckled, "our little commoner friend here gets his childhood sweetheart. It's clear you still have feelings for her." He couldn't help but smirk as Arai's face turned pink.

"I still respect her more than that!!" He squeaked out, still trying to pretend he had pride. All Kyoya had to do was raise an eyebrow and he sank into his seat.

Kyoya gave a curt bow. "Alright then, that would conclude our meeting. We're all in agreement of what we're doing, those of us with tasks will complete them by next week, when we will meet again- this time over video call." He watched them all stand up and prepare to leave, staying silent until they were all almost as the door. "Farewell then, I'll see you soon."

21:46 - The meeting has concluded, everyone has agreed to their parts. I will now stand by for Nekozawa's part to be completed.

He made his way home after clearing up, or rather, he made his way to the limo. His bodyguards wrapped him in his blanket the moment he sat down, making sure he was alright. He appreciates that someone cares about him, even if they're paid to do so, so he let them have the remaining snacks from the meeting. They seemed happy with that, so he let his mind wander on the journey home.

Next thing he knew he was laying in bed, it was late at night, he must have fallen asleep. He looked to his side to see a bowl of commoners ramen with a note explaining that the cooks had already left for the day. Kyoya sighed, taking the bowl over to his sofa, slowly eating his food. It was a cold night, but this cheaply made food was strangely comforting to him.

He gazed out his window, the moon was high. He was usually awake at this time, sure, but it felt different now- it felt almost lonely. The dawn of a new day felt so far away now, and the arms of his beloved friends felt further. He knew he was doing them wrong, but he couldn't see any other way to keep himself afloat. He had to be happy again, he had to. This was just how he was going about it. But the sinking guilt, the swallowing loneliness enveloped him gently but mercilessly, and he couldn't breathe for realisations.

His friends might never forgive him, he may become ostracized from the only community he's ever really had, and for chasing happiness no less. His methods were underhanded and his motives were wicked, his family might finally be proud… but Fiyumi at least would not. His loving, caring sister… would she be mad at him? For being unable to sacrifice his own happiness for his friends? Would she call him stupid? Selfish? Would she tell him he deserved all the pain and guilt he felt? He felt she would be right. He's done nothing but plan yet, he hasn't hurt his friends in the slightest. But he still felt incredibly guilty, incredibly empty…

He looked down at his bowl of ramen, it had gone lukewarm. He sighed and put it down on the table, laying on his side. He could turn the lights off, he could turn the heating off, he could turn off so many things, but he couldn't turn off his own thoughts, he couldn't turn off his tears.

[dearlazerbunny]

Ignite (Redux); Ch. 1 of 5ish

Pairings: Kylo Ren x Reader

Genre/Ratings: currently T for severely injured reader 

Words: 2250

Summary: After an accident aboard Starkiller Base, someone unexpected proves invaluable.

This is a rewrite of Ignite, which I published two-ish years ago. I thought I could put more into it than I did initially, and soon enough this one chapter was more words than the whole original idea. Same story, incredibly expanded upon. Enjoy!

You sigh as you scroll through your daily schedule that’s pinged into your datapad. Apparently a fresh crop of newbie engineers has been recruited, and now you’ve got to teach them how to not blow themselves up- or more crucially, not blow up the expensive TIE Fighters that cost more than your entire life is worth. Joy oh joy. Really, you prefer to work alone- you’re a senior engineer aboard Starkiller base, you don’t need anyone to double check your work (or worse, mucking it up). But as long as the rookie knows their place and doesn’t cross wires they aren’t supposed to, things should- should- be okay.

Hopefully. Maybe. Fingers crossed.

You pull on your uniform, doing up the buttons and fastening the buckles; your tool belt, a beautiful piece of leather that’s been worn enough to be molded precisely to your waist, gets secured in its place of honor across your hips. After tracking down your pesky gloves and tucking them into the top of your work boots so you don’t lose them for the millionth time, you join the ebb and flow of traffic constantly racing though Starkiller’s veins and head for the flight deck.

It’s a decent trek- base is huge, and nowhere you’re heading is ever anywhere near everywhere else. It’s become something of a tradition to mentally curse whoever designed this bucket of bolts as you follow hallway after hallway, trying to keep pace with those around you. Would it have killed them to put in some moving walkways? Maybe a more direct path through the ducts? At least that way you’d be able to avoid all the upper-crust officers on your way to work, and their holier-than-thou stares as they eye your patched elbows and stained pants. Chuckling to yourself, you pat the nearest metal archway, mentally apologizing to your pride and joy. Starkiller is, ultimately, a feat of engineering, and the fact that you get to crawl around in her walls and find what makes her tic is a pleasure, no matter how finicky she gets- or how snotty the officers become.

In the corner of your eye, you can tell that the corridor has suddenly emptied, startlingly silent of stormtrooper boots or the quiet mumbling of messengers running to and fro. Rather than following suit and making yourself scarce, you purposefully slow your gait and linger, letting your fingers trace along the seams of the polished walls.

Not a minute later, Kylo Ren comes stalking around the corner, boots thumping menacingly along his path and cape fluttering behind him. He doesn’t seem phased by the sudden clearing of his path- he probably comes to expect it by now. It’s not like he demands it; people just seem too frightened of the Commander to even do something as simple as walk in the same corridor as him.

You can’t really blame them. He’s a six-foot-something space wizard in all black and an incredibly intimidating mask. Rumor has it he isn’t afraid to cut you in half with a lightsaber if you so much as breathe wrong in his direction- and to be fair, a lot of those rumors are true, given how frequently you’re called to patch up medical equipment in the infirmary.

“Am I interrupting something?” The Commander’s voice comes out heavily synthesized through his visor, but you could swear there’s a touch of teasing in it as he watches you run a hand over some welding.

You grin at him. “No, sir, just having a little moment of appreciation.” You comically pat the metal next to you, as though assessing a prize cow.

Normally you wouldn’t dare joke around with a senior officer, but despite his fearful reputation, the Knight has always seemed… different, to you. In command, yes, but not quite part of command. The rest of base always runs whenever he heads in their direction. Even his infamous Knights of Ren seem just a touch too cautious around their leader to include him in the camaraderie you’ve seen them demonstrate in the mess hall when he’s not around. He’s a true loner, sitting solitaire in meetings and speaking to no one except to yell orders; a black phantom haunting the hallways with rumors flying left and right in his wake.

You made the decision a long time ago to not be afraid of the man. He has to know that not everyone sees him as some sort of grim reaper, no matter what people might whisper. “How are you today, sir?”

Despite you making it a point to ask him this every time you see him, he still seems taken aback whenever he hears it. Like he’s shocked someone is speaking to him in pleasant terms. “I am fine. And you?”

“Just peachy!” You gesture down the hallway. “Are you going this way?”

He nods briefly, and so the two of you start off together, only close enough to barely be associated as acquaintances. The stares you get are numerous, but you always feel just a tad more confident with the Commander at your side. You suppose it must look a bit comical- the dark knight and a tiny engineer marching through base like they own the place. But you’re grateful for the company, silent as it is, and you tell yourself he must be too- otherwise, why give you the time of day? You’re not anyone important.

You know Commandeer Ren notices all the attention the two of you get- you can tell by the way he has to keep his fists from clenching up; struggle to keep his gait even. Briefly, you wonder if the reason he wears a mask is so his emotions won’t run amok across his face. It’s certainly easy enough to read the rest of him, if you bother looking.

“Are you not afraid of me?”

You stop short, surprised. Even when he seems to be in a good mood, he rarely says anything. “No sir, I’m not. Should I be?”

“Yes,” he says flatly. Just, yes, as though that’s the only possible answer to his question.

“Well… just don’t come at me with your fancy glowstick, and I think we’ll be alright, yeah?” You offer him an easy grin, instinctively reaching out to tap him playfully on the shoulder before you remember who you’re talking to- it quickly gets withdrawn. He simply stares at you, and you’re unsure if you’ve just doomed yourself to a cold and miserable fate on Hoth. “I’ll see you later?”

He just turns and stalks away, and you sigh, shoving your hands in your pockets. He never answers that one. Which, to be fair, he probably has much more important things to do than run around entertaining some random engineer. Still, he never blows you off though, even when you’re rambling or asking too many questions- he might not answer the questions, but he doesn’t tell you to shut up either.

Truth is, you’re a bit fascinated with the man. He’s an enigma, a mystery, and your whole life you’ve been trained to solve mysteries; pull out the broken pieces and wind it all back together again even better than the day it was brand new. You can only hope someday that helmet of his will short circuit and you’ll get a chance to take a crack at it.

You have to pull yourself away from watching Ren’s retreating back, refocusing on your job. Rookie to train. TIE Fighters to tune up. Right.

It’s pretty easy to spot your trainee- he’s tentatively poking around a TIE the way you do when you want to look like you know what you’re doing, but in actuality you’re three seconds away from seriously messing something up. When he gnaws his lip and reaches for a panel of circuitry, you step in- “OKAY! Let’s back away from that, shall we?”

Startled, he knocks himself away from the board he’s studying. “Right! Right. Uh, sorry.”

You gingerly close the panel back up and push him a few steps away from the battleship, then wipe your hands on your pants and hold out a hand. “I’m Y/N. I’ll be your supervisor for the day. Rule number one? Don’t touch anything unless you know for certain what it is, what’s wrong with it, how to fix it, and all the ways it can kill you if your finger slips.”

The kid’s cheeks pale a bit. “Right. I’m Cale.”

“Wonderful. Don’t blow anybody up and don’t put our heads under the general’s fist, and I’m sure we’ll get along great.” You tug on your gloves, tighten the cord securing your hair, and put a hand on your hip. “First thing’s first- how much do you know about twin ion engine ships?”

You spend the better part of your shift going over every inch of the craft in front of you, as well as the science that makes it run and the parts that need hands on them more often than not. “…and this is the engine itself. It destabilizes xenon gas and uses the resulting broken-off electron for thrust. Xenon gas is ideal because for the most part, it’s completely inert- fireproof, explosion-proof, etcetera. As long as it’s converted back to a stable state before it’s exuded by the engine, it’s pretty safe. But you should still be extremely cautious when working on the engine itself. Obviously. It’s worth more than we ever will be.” You press your wrist to your forehead, trying to think of anything you missed. “Okay. Any questions?”

“…No?”

“Cool.” You check your datapad. “This one needs new electrostatic grids. Xenon gas is fairly corrosive. Check with me before you do anything, and we’ll get to work, okay?”

Other than the occasional question here and there and getting used to someone hanging over your shoulder watching you tinker, you settle into a wonderfully familiar routine. Your fingers fly like they have a mind of their own, effortlessly making the rig in front of you shine like it did when it first came off the line.

“-so what do you do here, anyways?”

You shake your head, pulled from the flow of work- “um, little bit of everything? I got promoted to senior a few years ago so I’m called all over base. I work a lot with command and their personal rigs and equipment.”

You can’t see Cale’s face, but you can hear the curiosity in his voice. “You work with General Hux?”

“Yes. He’s just as…intense, as everyone makes him out to be. But thus far I’m not on his bad side and I plan to keep it that way, so I’m not saying anything else about it.”

“What about-” he pauses, like he’s looking over his shoulder to make sure no one else in the massively busy hangar is listening in- “Kylo Ren?”

You wedge a particularly tight support into place with a grunt. “What about him?”

“Is he really insane? I heard that-”

“No,” you say harshly. “And you shouldn’t believe everything you hear. He’s a person, just like everyone else, okay?” Christ, the rumor mill is as exhausting as it is useless.

Thankfully, something on your tool belt starts beeping and you can focus on that. A little indicator light is flashing orange, harsh and neon. “Interesting.”

Cale pops his head out from underneath the ship. “What’s beeping?”

“This monitors the air quality; lets us know if the composition of gases gets unbalanced. It generally means there’s a leak somewhere.” You glance at what you’d doing. More electrostatic grids. “What are you working on down there?”

“Oh, a few tanks were too pressurized, so I released the valves a bit to relieve those.”

You blanch. “The xenon canisters?”

“Um… maybe?”

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. Just before you can hit the alarm button, you see a spark from a nearby welder flicker- it arcs to the floor almost in slow motion, one small bit of fire promising catastrophe. If you’re lucky, it won’t catch- it will fall harmlessly to the floor and extinguish, giving you time to alert others, clear the area, and reset things when proper ventilation has made the area safe.

But when have you ever been lucky?

All you see is red. You’re awash in it, swimming in it, drowning until your whole being is nothing but scarlet and an unholy, white-hot, supernova blue. You’re in the heart of an exploding star, witnessing the birth of the universe, and it’s just as beautiful as you’d imagine the very atoms of space rearranging themselves would be.

Then there’s stillness. The colors fade. It’s not silent- no, there’s a ringing in your ears, and somewhere very, very far away something like an alarm. And then- pain.

Oh, the pain. It flashes through your nerves like lightning, so intense you almost can’t comprehend all the little nuances screaming across every inch of your body. Joining the ringing and the far, distant sound of klaxon alarms comes a high-pitched, desperate sort of scream. You turn to help whoever it is- you raise a hand in front of you, only to see rapidly singing flesh. It’s you. You’re the one screaming. You’re the one on fire.

Sprawled on the floor of the hangar, vaguely aware of everything and nothing, hoarsely begging for this to stop, stopstopstop please make this stop, you wonder just for one second if the tall cloaked figure at the other end of the room is a hallucination or wish fulfillment or both.

You lose consciousness before you can come to a decision.

A/N: Yee