#first night passes then a couple more important rich people dies and like one not so important person

[swordmaid]

playing dress ups in piccrew with my ocs as one does and now I am thinking up of a regency or victorian era based murder mystery au with thalia as main char or something ,,,, anyway chars go from thalia left shri’iia right

then yves as creepy nun and wren as the one sole dude in this line up

[ahjustroza]

I saw a hc post abt how Last Legacy love interests react to MC actually going back to Earth,so can I ask some hcs abt this one? I'm curious of what you come up with!!

I actually made the same request to @lucigucci !!

For this ask, I had to play the entire game once again because I couldn't come up with anything. Hope you'll like it!

MC Going Back to Earth Headcanon

Warning: Sad feelings and pain...

Anisa

Before giving in to her emotions she will make sure to not miss anything important for your return to Earth

She'll check with important magical necessaries for the portal

Check if you have everything you would possibly need

If you ate well

Will check twice everything she prepared for you to take with you to remember her

She will also give you the Orlando postcard

It is important to her but also you two shared many memories together talking about Earth looking at the postcard

She knows when you visit Orlando you will remember her

After she is done with everything

The realization of you actually leaving her will hit her HARD

She knew you for only months but fell for you in a way with no return

You became her breath

The meaning, the cause she wanted to live further

The center of her life

Her priority

Her peace

Her shelter, and safe place

If only she could stay in your arms for a little longer...

If only she could find a way to see you again

The smell your scent while she buried her nose to your neck

To your hair...

She misses you always

Even for a couple of minutes without you within her eyesight makes her feel troubled

She misses you to death before even you leave her...

She will use all her strength to not cry in front of you

But the moment you hugged her and kissed her the last time she broke

She never struggled like this

Never felt hurt like this

The devs mentioned that each character will have multiple endings, so I headcanon two different happy endings in this situation

One is being Anisa letting you go while she stays in Astraea

She knows that she might not be able to fit in

You are people of two different worlds

Quite literally

And it shows

Anisa however will never love again after you

She will refuse every potential partner both in her romantic life or in her bed

She will confess her feelings for you and give you her hair ribbon as well as the most painfully mesmerizing kiss...

The other ending being Anisa leaving Astraea with you.

She is half-human and can tell people that her marks on her face are tattoos on Earth

She will see this as an opportunity to start a new life

Without the guilt of who her parents are and what they have done

Without the danger of magical monsters or assassins tracking her all around

She is smart, a quick learner, and curious about Earth

With your support, she can get used to life on Earth and get a job

I am thirsty for Anisa as a workout or martial art trainer

But I can also see her going to college and finish it quicker than expected to work in a school

Counselor Anisa

You two will travel the world together

No matter the lifestyle you live Anisa is happy

She doesn't need a lot of money

All she needs is you

Also another surprise, she doesn't miss Astraea one bit

You are what she calls home now.

Sage

I am a Sage hoe myself but I can't see him leave Astraea with you

He can't fit in to Earth

He has to be free and living on Earth means he has to follow so many rules that he struggles to understand

Also Sage will absolutely refuse to leave Tulsi behind

There are only two people he actually cares about in this world

You and Tulsi

You two are his family and home

He is a family guy

And oh my god does he want to make his family larger secretly

Sage is a character that struggles with emotional confessions

He is also a good liar

So even tho he wants a future with you

If you want children, raise your children together (adopted/surrogacy/biological/a found family...)

Finally settling down and actually live in a home

Sage will experience the feeling of home with you the first time

He never felt safer and not worried about being vulnerable to someone

Having family dinners, family meetings with auntie Tulsi...

Celebrating anniversaries

Getting yourselves in trouble and moving to a different town

Even though he would fight the gods themselves to have this future with you, he will not tell you to stay

He will not say anything at all

He'll watch you and make sure to prepare everything for your return

And to make sure of your security during the process

You will look into his eyes each passing hour, hoping him to say something

Anything

But he will not

He'll only give you his signature soft half-smile with tired eyes

He will drink the entire day before your depart

Spend the whole night with you

Watch you sleep

Memorize your face

Your body

Will listen to your breathing

He will take everything he can get to never forget you

Also, cry too

Silently

Without you noticing

Tears will fall down to the pillow one by one

He wants to scream and tell you to stay but he can't force you to do anything you don't want

Any word out of his mouth might make you change your mind and do the opposite of what you want to do

You have a family too and you have to see them

A life you have to return to...

So if you don't say that you want to stay he will stay silent forever

If you choose to leave, do give him something to remind him of you

A necklace? Your laser pointer? Your foam sword?

He will carry whatever you give him with him

Always

Until the day he dies

Let's say you gave him a necklace, anyone who knew you will feel the pain in Sage when they see him still wearing the necklace after all those years...

He will never love again. It was a one-time thing.

He will not open up to anyone

He will not let anyone see the real Sage the way you did

He might have bed partners but it is not emotional

He is in pain and will either drink or throw himself somewhere to spend the night without thinking anything

But that can only happen if he is too drunk to remember what happened the night before

If you choose to stay, he will feel relieved

Guilty too but mostly relieved

He will build the future he desires with you

But will also look for ways to make you visit Earth and come back

Felix

I don't think Felix can fit in the Earth either

He grew up as the Arcmage's son and spent all his life studying magic

He can't live in a world where magic doesn't exist

He can't live a lifestyle where he will have to learn everything anew

I just think he is too sensitive for our world.

But unlike Sage and Anisa, Felix will ask you to stay

He'll ask you to stay and live a crazy but full of love life with him

He'll promise to take care of you since he is filthy rich

Then admit his fears of losing another lover

If you decide to leave he will feel betrayed and abandoned at first

He'll cry, then disappear for a while, then appear and tell you that you gave him a lot of hope

And disappear once again

He'll get drunk and then cry loudly too...

After Rime, you taught him how to love again

You made him feel safe and supported

Accepted for who he is...

You taught him how to properly love someone

No toxicity

No lies

No rivalry

He only wants to sleep in a bed in your arms around him not wake up for years

The idea of you leaving him hurts like someone stabs a dagger into his heart

He'll start to believe that this is his cruel destiny

To be the one stays while the other leave

He wants to follow you but he knows he can't live with you on Earth

He couldn't even fit in his own house yet...

Once he cooled down he'll admit how important your life back at home to you

And how it is his fault to steal that life away from you by bringing you to Astraea

He will open the portal for you himself

He is not trusting anyone else for this work

Before you leave he will tell you that he loves you and promise to never forget you

Here comes the pain

But he might fall in love again after you

You will always have a different place in his heart and in his memories though!

Felix did try to bring someone he fell for back from death then fall in love with someone else

I just think he will be more flexible with what life brings in front of him

And get even more depressed with time...

If you accept his offer and choose to stay his eyes will see nothing but you from that day and forward

You are officially his spouse now, no ceremony necessary

You will go on the vacation you both need and deserve then get a house to live together

You two will be the scary power couple

People will talk about you two as "the small necromancer and his spouse- yes the spouse. They are the one that fought the Lord of Shadows and the undead Rime. I also heard they got a relic the moment they stepped on Astraea- I KNOW it is crazy..."

Felix will share everything he owns with you, even his thoughts

He is so open to you that he knows you understand him the best

[imkylotrash]

Golden

Pairing: Sky x reader

Requests: The reader is Stella’s sister but Sky is secretly in love with her and he confesses. Anonymous

and

Could you write where sky is with a princess of solaria (Stellas sister) and they attempt to keep it secret from Stella and set before the summer of the events on the fate the winx saga is set.

A/N I paired these request because they were so similar and would have the exact same plot line. Will be doing this to a couple of the requests since they’re so similar. 

“Free at last!” you exclaim as you walk out the doors of Alfea with Sky in tow. You’ve finally finished your last exam and now it’s time to just enjoy the summer. 

“So, what’s your plans then?” Sky asks propping his arm around your shoulders. There’s nothing new in this but you still get butterflies. At this point, it’s just a given whenever he touches you. 

“Oh, you know. Travelling through the realms, visiting all my rich friends. I may even buy a yacht just to pass the time.” It’s a bit of an inside joke between you and Sky. He knows you’ll have to return to Solaria and face the dragon. 

“What about you? Will you be alright?” You’re a little worried about leaving him here. Stella had decided to dump him just days before the exams once again proving that the girl had no regard for other people. Needless to say, you weren’t the biggest fan of your sister. She always tried to live up to your mother’s expectations and acted more than royally around school whereas you had decided that the disappointed frown your mother wore every time you saw her actually suited her face. 

“Yeah,” he says shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans, “I’ll be fine. I have Silva.” It’s right then and there you decide that there’s a greater need for you here than hiding away back in Solaria. 

“You know, my mother is already profoundly disappointed in me. I don’t think it would make much of a difference if I were to stay.” Sky’s smile is brighter than the sun when he realises you’ll be staying right here with him. 

“Thank you,” he says hugging you tightly. He’s never been one to share him emotions easily but over the years you’ve learned to decipher his many facial expressions and there was just no way you would leave him right now. Your mother is as delighted as you expected when you tell her of your plans for the summer but you figure she’ll forgive you at some point. The way you see it, there’s a throne waiting for you back at Solaria and you want to enjoy freedom as long as you possibly can. Sometimes, you catch yourself wishing that Stella was the older sister. She’d be much more suited for the royal life but there’s a strict code of conduct when it comes to heirs and you’re the first born so the crown will eventually be placed on your head.  

“You won’t be returning with me?” Stella asks as she’s packing up her suitcase. Her tone in stern already setting you off. 

“I’ll be spending enough time there once I graduate.”

“Oh yes. The ever-repeating speech on how this is your moment of freedom and you won’t give it up for anything,” Stella mocks clearly upset to be facing mother alone. You feel a pang of guilt knowing what you’re sending Stella back to but the two of you have never been able to see eye to eye especially when it came to mother’s expectations of her daughters. 

“You’re welcome to stay here at Alfea if you’d like.” It’s an offer made to be polite because you know she’ll never accept it. 

“Please. Someone has to be responsible and return home. Our people look to the royal family for support. We can’t all pretend to be someone else.” 

“I’m not pretending, Stella. If I could give you the crown, I gladly would. If I had my way, I’d be just another fairy attending Alfea.” It’s a discussion you’ve had more than once and it’s always the same outcome. You don’t want the crown and Stella does but your mother would never allow the two of you to switch. Stella doesn’t say goodbye when she leaves and you’re okay with that. Instead you head out to find Sky. 

“Ready for the summer of your life?” you ask him and he smiles. It passes by too fast. The picnics out on the field, Silva training with you, walks in the forest at night. It’s nothing grand but it becomes the perfect summer on the final day when Sky pulls you aside as all the students start to arrive. 

“I have to tell you something. I’ve been wanting to all summer but I was scared I might ruin it.” Your heart skips a beat but you tell yourself that it’s probably not what you think it is. Rather than making assumptions, you stay quiet waiting for him to speak. 

“When this summer started, I thought I’d spend it alone and heartbroken over Stella but then you stayed. And I know it seems insane since you’re Stella’s sister, but I just can’t help but feel the way I do around you,” he smiles. It’s too good to be true. There has to be some kind of catch or problem in your way but right now everything feels perfect. You carefully take his hand and intertwine your fingers with his and Sky’s cheeks turn red. He’s always so gentle and kind so you know you’ll have to make the first move. As you stare into his eyes, you notice little specks of green mixed with the blue. You finally close your eyes, lean in and kiss him. Something you’ve wanted to do since you laid eyes on him the first time. You pull away with a huge smile plastered on your face thinking this moment is perfect and then you spot her. 

“Stella.” Thankfully, she hasn’t seen you but it’s only a matter of time before she’ll spot the two of you. Hand in his, you drag him with you behind a tree keeping you out of sight. 

“Of all the things I imagined you’d say after our first kiss, Stella wasn’t one of them.” He’s teasing you but you feel horrible. Despite your many differences, you do care about Stella and it would kill her to know that you’re dating her ex-boyfriend. You’re not even sure if she’s properly done with him or not and just thinking about her finding out about the two of you is enough to make your skin crawl. 

“She can’t know,” you plead looking into his eyes. He has to understand the importance of it. She’s not strong enough mentally to handle this. 

“Hey, relax,” he says cupping your cheeks, “how about we keep it to ourselves until we know what this is?” You know you don’t want to give him up but you don’t want to hurt Stella. His offer gives you him and keeps Stella blissfully unaware of the relationship which is good enough for you. 

“Okay. Just you and me, no one else can know.” 

“Please just kiss me,” he whispers leaning in and you don’t know how you could ever refuse him. Over the next few weeks, you and Sky have stolen moments between classes and nights spent wrapped in each other’s arms. You know you shouldn’t but you love him. One night you whisper it when you think he’s sleeping and he almost gives you a heart attack when he whispers it back. 

“I thought you were sleeping,” you whisper-yell trying to hide your face in his chest. 

“You’ve been turning around every two seconds. It’s impossible to fall asleep,” he chuckles wrapping his arms tightly around you. 

“I’m sorry, I have a lot on my mind,” you sigh. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks turning on the lamp by his bedside table. It showers Sky in a golden light making him look more angelic than human. It’s not fair how some people look so beautiful without even trying. 

“Yes. No. Maybe. I don’t know where to start,” you reply sitting up and leaning your back against the wall. You want to tell Stella so you can be done with sneaking around. As much fun as it’s been, you’re getting tired of watching Stella try to flirt with him because she decided he was good enough after all. Of course, he’s been turning her down but it just doesn’t seem to click with her. But you also know it’s a risk telling her since she’s not likely to congratulate you. 

“I guess I’m just tired of sneaking around,” you finally say. He signals for you to lay down with him again and you have no reservation as you crawl into his arms. 

“I’m ready for it when you are. Frankly, I just want to tell everyone you’re mine so the boys leave you alone.” 

“Please, you literally have a whole fan club waiting for you at every corner giggling and blushing if you even look in their direction.” Sky has become very popular now that he appears single and you can’t blame them. He is ridiculously handsome and more importantly, he’s kind and patient and warm. Right about now, he’s your favourite person in the whole world. 

“I do not,” he protests but even he knows it is the truth. His face is serious when he says: “Maybe we should tell her. I know you wanted to protect her but we can’t hide it forever. You’re expected to marry at some point and so am I.” 

“I know. I know. I just feel like a horrible sister.” This feeling of guilt comes as a surprise. You’ve never been that close but you don’t want to be the reason she’s hurting. 

“You’re not a horrible sister. Everything you’ve done these past few weeks has been to make sure she didn’t get hurt. It’s not selfish to want to be happy, Y/N.” But that’s just it. You’re already far too aware of your own happiness. It’s the reason you always stay away from Solaria and the expectations of the crown. It’s why you’re lying in bed with Sky right now. You've always put your own happiness first and you’ve never had a problem with it until now. 

“I’ll talk to her first thing in the morning then.” He kisses you one last time before you both fall asleep. You wake up to a note from him informing you that Silva had added a morning practice which meant you had no reason not to march into Stella’s room right now and tell her about you and Sky. 

“Can I talk to you?” you ask entering Stella’s bedroom. 

“If you must,” she replies not even bothering to look at you. 

“I don’t know how to say this so I’m just going to say it. I’m dating Sky,” you force yourself to keep going even as she goes completely rigid, “and I have been for a while now. I’ve kept it a secret because I never meant for this to happen and I didn’t want to hurt you. But it’s getting serious now and I needed you to know. I promise I’d never ever go for him if I didn’t have feelings for him.” She’s quiet for so long you’re worried she might just never speak to you again. 

“I’m not happy you kept it from me but I suppose if he has to date someone else, it wouldn’t be horrible if it was you.” Relief floods your body as you realise that she’s not breaking and she doesn’t hate you. 

“Thank you.” This is about as heartfelt as it’ll ever be between you and Stella. You share a moment locking eyes with each other before she turns her back to you. 

“I’m going to go then,” you say slowly backing towards the door. Stella doesn’t say anymore but the fact that you’re still breathing is a much better reaction than you’d dared hope for. Immediately after you head to the training grounds to find Sky. Once you spot him, you run right into his arms and he lifts you from the ground. 

“I love you,” you say kissing him in front of everyone. It’s so freeing to know that the secret is out. 

“I love you too.”

[arofili]

elves of arda ✹ gondolindrim ✹ headcanon disclaimer ✹ @gondolinweek

          Maeglin Lómion was the son of Aredhel Ar-Feiniel and Eöl the Dark Elf. He was born in the darkness of Nan Elmoth, where his father had laid an enchantment upon his mother to bind her to himself. For many years he was known only by his mother-name Lómion; Eöl called him only ion, “son,” until he at last named him Maeglin at the age of twelve. Eöl instructed his son in smithcraft and ósanwë, teaching him to make great works of iron and steel and to guard his thoughts from the prying minds of others. From time to time, Eöl would take Maeglin with him to dwarven settlements, where he learned of the Khazad and their ways.           Over eighty years, Aredhel slowly regained her independence, resisting Eöl’s spell and whispering tales of Valinor and Gondolin to Lómion. The desire for freedom and importance in distant Ondolindë took root in Lómion’s heart, and he grew bold in pushing back against his father’s constraints. When at last Eöl departed to visit the dwarves on his own, Maeglin seized his chance, stealing his father’s sword and urging his mother to flee. Emboldened and proud of her son, Aredhel took him and disappeared from the dark forest that had been her cage, headed toward Gondolin.           They arrived in Ondolindë and were met with great shock and greater joy, for Aredhel had been presumed dead, and she was the last elleth anyone would have guessed would have a son! For a day there was feasting and merriment, welcoming the indomitable Lady of the Tower of Snow back home, but soon the celebrations were cut short upon the arrival of Eöl, who had tracked his family to Gondolin and now demanded the return of his son.           King Turukáno was ill-pleased by Eöl’s demands, but at Aredhel’s insistence he gave his law-brother leave to remain in the city so long as he never departed. Enraged, Eöl refused, declaring that he would rather die than be trapped in a city of the Noldor, and choosing this fate for Maeglin also he drew forth a hidden javelin and cast it toward his son. Aredhel leapt to intercept the blow, fearing for Lómion’s life, but it was her own life put in danger when it was revealed the spearhead was poisoned.           On her deathbed, Aredhel begged mercy for her husband, no matter how ill he had treated her; but when his sister at last died in the night, Turukáno was filled with a cold rage and ordered Eöl’s execution despite her last will. Eöl was cast off the peak of Caragdûr, cursing with his last breath that Maeglin would die the same death as him. Shocked into silent horror, Maeglin watched, frozen, as the last vestige of his old life was brutally torn from him without his input or any chance for him to process Eöl’s cruelty.           Upon this great tragedy, Maeglin was left orphaned, and Turukáno took him under his wing. Maeglin was unused to the unfiltered Sunlight and the strange Noldorin customs in Ondolindë, and his grasp of Quenya was tenuous at best. For some years he appeared odd and reclusive to the Gondolindrim, and despite Turukáno’s awkward attempts to honor him as his nephew Maeglin never quite felt like he belonged among his Noldor kin. As Aredhel’s heir, he had some claim to inherit her title, but as he was young and grieving and entirely unfamiliar with the working of Ondolindë’s politics, none thought it wise to shoulder him with such a responsibility; instead Penlod of the Pillar reassumed their position as Lairde of the Tower of Snow in addition to their original house, for they had been a friend of Aredhel and had led her House for many years in her absence.           As the years passed and Maeglin came of age, he grew more confident in his position as the King’s nephew and revealed a more charming and charismatic side to the people of Gondolin. Yet he remained distant from Princess Itarillë, the King’s daughter and his own cousin, for in his heart lurked a secret desire for her. Never before had Maeglin looked upon another with such feelings, and they terrified him, especially as the two cousins were close in kin and Turukáno would occasionally express disdain for such unions. Itarillë seemed too beautiful and regal to be his, and he knew not how to handle such an impossible desire, having no one to turn to and confide in.           Penlod would at times invite Itarillë to accompany them and the folk of the Tower of Snow on hunts outside of Ondolindë. On one such occasion, Penlod also extended the invitation to Maeglin, who had not left Gondolin’s walls since his arrival seven years prior, ane he eagerly accepted. While on this ill-fated expedition, the hunters were attacked by white wolves from the mountains, and Maeglin and Itarillë were separated from the rest of the group.           Maeglin leapt to Itarillë’s defense, suffering a great wound from the wolves though he managed to fight them off with the might of Anguirel his father’s sword. Itarillë, who had learned some healing from her friend Meleth, insisted on treating his wounds; when conventional methods did little to staunch the bleeding, she insisted on Singin the wound closed despite Maeglin’s great reluctance. Maeglin knew that such a feat required the healer to reach into the injured party’s fëa, and in his vulnerable and half-delirious condition he feared she would learn of his feelings for her, which he had long kept secret in his carefully guarded mind.           At last Itarillë prevailed, and as she Sang healing into her cousin’s hröa, their fëar mingled and she was shocked to discover that Maeglin was infatuated her despite their close kinship, now rising to the surface of his thoughts despite his best efforts to keep his secrets hidden. Astonished and not a little bit horrified, Itarillë faltered, retreating from his mind and succeeding only in making his injury worse. Luckily, they were recovered by Penlod soon after, and Maeglin was tended to by more experienced healers, but the incident deeply affected both cousins. They never spoke of it again, and Itarillë distanced herself from Maeglin more than she had already, engendering further bitterness between them.           When Maeglin came of age, Turukáno granted him a lordship of his own and created for him the House of the Mole. This was the smallest of the Twelve Houses, drawing into its ranks some unattached smiths and miners and folk unsatisfied with their previous allegiances. Among these were many of the less fierce members of the Hammer of Wrath, intimidated by the fury of their peers and seeking a more close-knit society.          One such elf was the coppersmith Urundil, who quickly became a close counsellor of their new lord, aiding Maeglin in the exploration of the Echoriath. Together they discovered rich lodes of metal surrounding the city, forging weapons stronger than had been seen before and establishing Anghabar, a mine in the northern mountains. Another member of the House of the Mole was Poldamaitë, a blacksmith who had previously been of the House of the Swallow. She was wed to Cútasar, captain to Lord Tuilindo, and for her sake had agreed to join his House, though she felt ill-suited to its ranks of hunters and archers so unlike herself. Over the years conflict grew between the couple, eventually resulting in their separation and Poldamaitë’s joining of the folk of the Mole.           To those outside his House, Maeglin appeared aloof and strange, if also noble and charismatic. Yet none could deny his skill in smithcraft, rivalling even that of the Hammer of Wrath, and Lord Talagand of the Harp grew curious to see if this strange young lord was truly as prideful as folk said. He commissioned Maeglin to craft him a ceremonial weapon, bejeweled and impractical for true combat, and throughout the the process he grew fond of the young, isolated ellon and befriended him, drawing him out to social gatherings and advising him on how to interact with others unlike himself.           When Turukáno marched with ten thousand soldiers to fight in the Fifth Battle, he first asked Maeglin to act as regent in absence, but he insisted on accompanying the King to war, wanting to take part in the glorious deeds and make his mark on history. He proved to be valiant and wise in counsel, urging Turukáno to retreat when the battle went ill, saving the lives of many soldiers. He was present at the last meeting of Turukáno and Huor, a Man who as a child had been a guest in Gondolin and had seemed weak and frail to Maeglin, and he did not forget the prophecy of Huor’s last words, that a new star would rise from the Man and the King.           Upon returning to Ondolindë, Turukáno commissioned Maeglin and his folk to create the seventh and final gate of Gondolin, the Gate of Steel. Yet this gate would not keep out another Mannish interloper, for soon Tuor son of Huor came to Gondolin, claiming to be sent from Ulmo and counseling Turukáno to open the gates of his city and prepare for battle or else face destruction. To Maeglin this seemed absurdly and unnecessarily dangerous, and he was firm in his counsel to the King his uncle that there was no path to victory in open war. Weighing the advice of his valiant nephew against that of this strange Man, Turukáno sided with Maeglin and chose to ignore Ulmo’s warning.           Yet despite this small victory, Tuor soon rose to prominence among the Gondolindrim, charming the people and winning the affections of Princess Itarillë. To Maeglin’s great dismay, the two were soon wed, and he saw Itarillë snatched away from him forever. He had never truly labored under the delusion that she could love him, but this irrevocable bond to a mortal Man of all people made Maeglin even more bitter and jealous toward her beauty and happiness.           Within a year, a son, Eärendil, was born to Itarillë and Tuor. Despite himself, the little babe won Maeglin’s affections, for none could hate such a bonny child as he. Maeglin made no secret of his distrust of Tuor, but for the sake of his son he crafted a small mithril coat for Eärendil that even Itarillë could not deny.           Yet despite the joy Eärendil brought to all of Ondolindë, Maeglin’s sorrow and resentment only deepened, especially as the King forbade any to venture beyond the confines of the Echoriath even for mining and hunting. The folk of the Tower of Snow submitted to this mandate, but Maeglin refused, going out alone past the boundaries of Ondolindë despite the counsel of Urundil and his other friends.           On one such journey, Maeglin was taken captive by an orc-band and dragged to Angband itself, where he was tortured and interrogated by Morgoth and his lieutenant for the location of Gondolin. Maeglin held out as long as he could, but eventually his torment grew too much, and Morgoth’s offer of lordship of the city and the hand of Idril in marriage too tempting. At last he confessed the location of the hidden kingdom, and was sent back to Gondolin with a spell of bottomless dread placed upon him to prevent him from confessing his treachery.           Though Maeglin’s change in demeanor was noticed by many, only Talagand approached him after his reappearance to inquire after his health. Caught in Morgoth’s spell, Maeglin found himself unable to confess his torment, and what little he could say succeeded only in unsettling his only friend. Often, Maeglin would approach Itarillë in private, attempting to warn her of the coming danger as he believed that she alone possessed the capability to save Gondolin. Yet each time, his words died in his throat and he would flee into the darkness, consumed by guilt and shame.           Shortly before the celebration of Tarnin Austa, nearly a year after his capture, Maeglin forged an enchanted dagger akin to Glamdring, the King’s sword forged by Rôg, and its mate Orcrist, his own sword forged under Rôg’s tutelage. The blade would glow should the Enemy draw near, and he made it with the specific purpose of warning its bearer of Morgoth’s impending attack. He gave this dagger to Itarillë, half-hoping she would use it against him and end his misery, but she was only further troubled by what she interpreted as a threat and set aside the knife, never to use it.           Each of his plans failing, Maeglin made one last attempt to warn the Gondolindrim of their doom. Recalling the prophecy of Amnon, that “when the lily of the valley withers then shall Turgon fade,” and the lily-blossoms of Glingal, Turukáno’s golden replica of Laurelin, Maeglin came to the tree under the cover of night and took his hammer to its flower. The next morning, the lilies were found tarnished and dented, but despite Amnon’s urgings that Turukáno ought to heed this obvious “sign from the Valar,” once more the King refused to listen.           On the morn of Tarnin Austa, Morgoth’s armies attacked Gondlin and its great Fall began. Maeglin’s mind was torn asunder, the spell upon him eating away at his will and his despair at his failure crumbling away any last attempts at resistance. Overcome, Maeglin found himself urging Turukáno to remain rather than flee, and the Gondolindrim engaged in battle with the Enemy. As Itarillë slipped away to prepare the secret passage she and Tuor had been constructing since her husband’s arrival, Maeglin ordered Talagand to delay Tuor’s soldiers as he rushed after his cousin with murderous intent.           His mental defenses tattered and torn, Maeglin accosted Itarillë and her son, and the depth of his treason became clear. Itarillë attempted to fight him off, but with a few loyal warriors at his side, including ever-faithful Urundil, Maeglin captured her and dragged her to the cliffside where his father had been slain. Raving and mad, Maeglin tried to impress upon her that Morgoth’s victory was inevitable and that it would be a kinder fate for all of them to die at his hands rather than be tortured by the Enemy’s servants.           The deepest horror of all, in his crumbling mind, would be Eärendil’s inevitable corruption, and to spare him this dreadful fate Maeglin seized the child and made to throw him off the walls of the city. Itarillë resisted him with her sword, and Maeglin lamented to her that she did not use his gifted dagger, and in a moment of desperation their minds touched briefly one last time. Maeglin’s fëa shattered as he tried to tell her all of what he had done, all of his regrets and sins and wrongdoings, but also of his futile love for her and her son despite everything.           In that moment Tuor arrived, rushing to the defense of his wife and child. He broke through Maeglin’s guard, slaying Urundil, and attacked Maeglin with a vengeance. Maeglin swung his blade wildly, striking little Eärendil, but his blow was in vain for the child wore the mithril coat he himself had crafted. Swiftly, Tuor broke Maeglin’s arm, recovered Eärendil, and as soon as Itarillë had the boy safely in her arms he pressed Maeglin to the edge of Caragdûr and shoved him off the edge.           Thus fell Maeglin, dying the same death as his father. His name would be cursed by the exiles of Gondolin, going down in history as the most wretched traitor of all the Eldar, though Idril herself never spoke against him, her sorrow for the tragedy of her cousin’s corruption and fall too deep for her to resent his evil deeds with true fury. Yet not every member of the House of the Mole joined their lord in his treachery, and some, including Poldamaitë, fought against the Enemy in the Fall. Poldamaitë clashed swords with her estranged wife in the Square of the King, but they were swiftly reconciled and perished fighting back to back, consumed by a Balrog’s fire.           In time, all those Maeglin wronged would find healing in the Halls of Mandos and the Gardens of Lórien. Then and only then would he be reborn himself, departing to a quiet life in Aman where he could dwell with his mother, the only person to ever love him without reservations, and perhaps even forge new bonds in this his second life.

[snelbz]

The Ranch {7}

An A Court of Thorns and Roses, Nesta x Cassian, Modern AU, fanfiction.

Collaboration: @throne-of-ashes-and-beauty​ x @tacmc​

Summary: Nesta had spent years in Paris, living her dream and drowning in riches as a gourmet chef, capturing the hearts of the city and its people. But, after her father passes away unexpectedly and leaves his cozy, countryside B&B to his oldest daughter, Nesta is moving back home to the tiny town of Velaris, where the ranch, her sisters, and her father’s unfulfilled dream, awaits.

Sidenote: Being posted between two blogs, it is too chaotic to keep up with a tags list, so all chapters will be tagged with “#TheRanchNessian” & “#SharaCollab”.

A/N: We are absolutely blown away by how much y’all enjoy this story. We’ve loved writing it for you and we get just as excited for a new chapter as y’all do! Enjoy. xx

The Ranch Masterlist

Nesta hated going to school.

She felt so overwhelmed, so crowded, so completely lost in the sea of people that filled the halls of Velaris High School. Elain and Feyre had always found their place within those halls fairly quickly, absolutely, but Nesta floated. She went from one class to the next, sticking her nose in a book every chance she got. She didn’t make friends. Didn’t have acquaintances.

She did have one go-to, but he didn’t go to VHS. He was in the next town over. 

Tomas Mandray.

As soon as she sat down at her desk in algebra, she pulled out her phone. She had three missed messages.

10:31 - Hey. I’m planning on picking you up later. 

10:42 - We could stay in, if you want. (;

10:56 - I’ll be out of town this weekend, so spend time with me now.

At first, Nesta almost didn’t reply, but then she typed back, I’ll be ready at 7.

She hated that she loved Tomas Mandray. 

———

At seven o’clock on the dot, there was a knock on the front door of the house.

“That's Tomas, I’ll be home later!” Nesta hollered, trying to get out of the house before her father could drag her boyfriend into another conversation about the merits of a lightweight rope versus one with more snap.

“Hold on just a minute!” Isaac called, coming from the kitchen. “That boy is headed to Guthrie this weekend.” Nesta groaned as she pulled open the door and her father practically yanked him through the threshold. “You planning on bringing home a buckle?”

“Yes, sir,” Tomas smiled, shaking his hand. “Always.”

Isaac nodded and said, “Damn straight, I remember my trip to the National Championship, granted, I rode Broncs, mind you, but-.”

“Dad, we have to go. We have reservations,” Nesta coolly lied. “I’ll be home around 10:30.”

Her father waved her comments off. “Nah, don’t worry about a curfew tonight.” He rested his hands on Tomas’ shoulders. “It’s not everyday your future son-in-law makes it to the National Junior Rodeo Championship.”

Nesta’s cheeks burned. “Right. Well, we really have to go.”

She was hurrying out the door, dragging Tomas by the hand as she did so.

“Good to see you, Mr. Archeron!” Tomas called, as Nesta shut the front door behind them. “I like talking to your dad.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t,” Nesta said. She hated when Isaac talked to Tomas. He was so certain that he and Nesta would be together forever, and the thought often made her sick to her stomach yet hopeful at the same time. It was a strange combination. 

She climbed up into the passenger side of Tomas’s truck and leaned back as he took off. 

“I missed you.”

Nesta nodded. “You, too.”

He reached across the middle of the seat and took her hand. “So, will you be coming to watch me this weekend? It’s the National-”

“-Junior Rodeo Championship, yeah, I know,” she finished.

“Damn, what’s stuck up your ass?” he muttered.

“Nothing,” Nesta sighed. “I wish we could, but dad says we have two couples staying the whole weekend.”

As much as she hated to admit it, she was almost relieved when her father told her that a group of friends had booked the weekend last minute. The last thing she wanted to deal were the buckle bunnies in training that followed the rodeos around. She wouldn’t have to deal with the cheap beer and the greasy food and tobacco spit and the blood and sweat and (usually) tears.

His thumb rubbed a circle into the back of her hand. “Well, maybe just you could come. You could leave with me after lunch tomorrow. You know your dad would sign you out.”

She shook her head. “I can’t, they need me to cook for the guests.”

It was true. No one else in the house had an ounce of culinary ability, and it just so happened to be Nesta’s favorite thing in the world.

Tomas frowned. “No one else can cook for the guests?”

Nesta shook her head. “None as good as me. Besides, I love cooking.”

“Cooking is a stupid thing to love,” Tomas said, and Nesta stilled. “Why cook when you can come watch me win a national title?” 

She didn’t answer. She didn’t have an answer that would please him. 

“Besides, after we graduate, you’ll be coming with me on the road all the time,” he went on. “May as well get used to it now.”

“I’m not sure I want to go on the road all the time,” Nesta said. “You know it’s my dream to open my own restaurant, I can’t really do that if I’m travelling with you.”

Tomas shook his head, laughing quietly. “Come on, Nes.”

“Come on, what?” She asked, turning to look at him. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do. Is my dream not as important as yours?”

“Of course not, that’s not what I’m trying to say, babe. It’s just,” he reached over and skimmed his knuckles across her cheekbone. “If you stay here and open a restaurant, and I go pro, we’re never going to see each other.” They came to a stop at a red light. He turned to her. “I love you. Don’t you love me?”

Her eyebrows furrowed. “Of course, I do.”

“Then you need to come with me. So we can be together. Promise me you’ll think about it.”

Nesta only nodded, agreeing that yes, she would think about it, but she already knew it wouldn’t happen. She wasn’t made for the rodeo life.

Just like her mother hadn’t been.

It was because of her mother that they even had the ranch, because she loved Nesta’s father, but didn’t love the city to city, night to night lifestyle he lived in the professional rodeo circuit. So after they got married, and Nesta was on her way, her mother had convinced Isaac to hang up his ropes and buy the ranch. And he’d loved it.

And it worked for them, Nesta’s parents. Isaac found his love in ranching, they got to be together and raise their girls. But Tomas would never be that. He was too hard headed, too stuck in the rodeo life. He loved it, and Nesta had to admire that, but she didn’t have to give up her dreams for that admiration. 

She was going to become a chef.

She was going to stay put, in the city, or maybe go somewhere like Paris or Barcelona or Tokyo. All she knew was that the last place she wanted to be was stuck in a truck, driving from city to city for the fucking rodeo.

She just didn’t know how to tell Tomas that, because Tomas never accepted an answer that wasn’t the one he wanted to hear.

Nesta was so caught up in her own thoughts that it took her nearly fifteen minutes to realize they weren’t on the way to the restaurant. But it took her only a few seconds later to realize where they were going. “Tomas, please, not tonight. We can’t have one night without it?”

He gestured to the arena. “It’s a round robin, babe. I’ll run eight head max and walk out of here seven hundred dollars richer.” Nesta only rolled her eyes and looked out the window. He went on, “Plus, I heard from Beron there will be sponsors here tonight. Granted, they’re here for some big headed jock from VHS, but once they see me, he won’t matter.”

Nesta stopped listening, but subconsciously, she knew that Tomas talked until they parked.

“You don’t even have your horse,” she said, as a last ditch effort. She knew this fact hadn’t somehow escaped him, but she didn’t understand what he was hoping to accomplish by being here without Rain.

“Oh, I’m buying one,” he laughed, as if that was such a minor thing to forget. “Yeah, that’s the whole reason we’re here. So, I can test out this horse. If she’s got some crack to her, I’m not putting a national championship on the line.”

Nesta couldn’t believe him. He’d taken their last night home together and hijacked it.

Pulling into the dirt lot, Nesta breathed a heavy sigh. Tomas hopped out of the truck and reached into the backseat, grabbing a beer out of the cooler and popping the top. She laughed  incredulously. “Are you serious?”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you something, too,” he smirked, lifting the wine coolers out of the ice. She rolled her eyes. It wasn’t that she was looking to drink, too. It was that, once again, she’d been overshadowed by roping. “Come on, I gotta go warm that horse up.”

“I’ll be right there,” Nesta said, pulling her phone out of her pocket and dialing her sister’s number. “I need to ask Elain something real quick.”

“Alright, well, hurry up,” he said, smacking the roof of the truck. “I want you to get some video of me I can post.”

Grinding her teeth, she nodded, and put the phone to her ear. Tomas shut the door and Nesta lowered the phone back to her lap, never even having pressed the call button. She looked out the truck window, out over the fields, that rolled on and on, and just saw...nothingness.

Without thinking about it, Nesta hopped out of the truck, threw her purse over her shoulder and began walking towards the road.

The rustic back roads of Velaris weren’t lit with street lamps, so she pulled her phone out and used it as a flashlight. After about fifteen minutes of walking, her phone died and she was left in the dark.

An older truck, heading in the direction of the arena, stopped when they saw her walking along the side of the road. An unfamiliar voice called out, “Hey, are you okay?”

She didn’t answer.

“Miss? Do you need a ride?”

She kept walking and ignored the  truck, passing it and disappearing into the darkness.

———— 

At quarter after midnight, Nesta finally walked up the worn wooden steps of the ranch house. Her phone had been dead for hours and by the time she reached the city, she knew her family would be asleep.

She wondered if Tomas had noticed her absence. She wondered if he’d tried to call her.

She unlocked the front door and crept in, trying to miss the creaking board by the living room doorway.

“That you, Nes?”

She sighed, hoping he wouldn’t come into the foyer, where she stood with one door already on the first step. “Yeah, dad.”

He groaned as he sat up on the couch. “Tomas with you?”

She swallowed heavily. “No, sir.” She started to ascend the steps. She looked like shit, he couldn’t see her like this, covered in dust and who knows what else. She didn’t want to tell him what happened, didn’t want to deal with him telling her that Tomas was the best thing to ever happen to her. “I’m tired. I’m going to bed. Goodnight.”

She hurried up the stairs and shut her door with a soft click.

Begging herself not to cry, she slipped off her clothes and slipped into a cozy pair of sweatpants and a tank top. She should take a shower, but she didn’t want to wake her sisters by turning it on. So, instead, she trudged across the hall, into the bathroom, and wiped herself off with a wet cloth.

All she had wanted was one thing: to go to a nice dinner with her boyfriend. Instead, she was left alone for the night in a place that she hated, expected to cheer Tomas on in a sport, in an environment, she couldn’t care less for. 

And Tomas didn’t even seem to care or notice. At least now she would get a weekend alone, a weekend spent in the kitchen, a weekend creating dishes that people would praise her for. And it wasn’t that Nesta needed the praise, but when her world revolved around Tomas’s accomplishments, it was nice to be the one appreciated for once.

When her phone finally booted up, she didn’t have a single text from Tomas.

—————

Friday went by pretty uneventfully. She was exhausted, yes, but she was mostly distracted by the fact that Tomas hadn’t responded to her text message that morning.

She had bumped into someone in the halls, between economics and chemistry, and after she’d apologized, he’d stopped her and asked if she was alright. His hazel eyes were bright and his voice was kind. She’d given him a quick nod and gone on her way.

After school, she went straight to the store, gathering ingredients for delicious baked goods and savory recipes she’d been dying to try. Just as she was getting into a good mood, excited to bake for hours on end, she got home, and that mood went straight to hell.

“We’re going to surprise Tomas.”

She had just set her bags down on the kitchen counter when she froze, her father’s words making her smile fade into nothingness. “What?”

“I’ll drive you down, go pack,” he said, waiting for her to be grateful. “Tomas wanted you to go so badly, and I know you want to be there to support him. So, I worked it out, bought tickets, booked a room….Come on, Nesta, take a little roadtrip with your dear old dad to support your boyfriend.” 

Nesta frowned. “I- I can’t. I just bought all of this to make for the guests-.”

“I called your aunt to come stay with your sisters and take care of the guests,” Isaac replied, beaming. “Come on, Nesta. This could be life changing for him, which means it could be life changing for you. You want to be there, don’t you?”

No, she thought, she absolutely did not want to be there.

She was fairly sure, if Tomas lack of communication was any indication, that he didn’t want her there either.

“I can’t, dad,” she said, grasping for any chance to get out of this. “I’ve got a final paper due on Monday and I haven’t even started it.”

“You can work on it in the truck,” he replied, packing a cooler with the essentials - beer, of course - and patting the top of it when he flipped the lid closed. “Now, go pack. If we want to see the numbers ceremony, we have to leave before four.” He hefted the cooler up, and was out the backdoor, going to load it in the back of the truck.

Nesta sighed, knowing that her father was just as hard headed as she was. She wasn’t going to win this battle.

She dialed Tomas number one more time, seeing the other three times she’d tried to call him, unsuccessfully, and listened to it ring. When the voicemail started, she said, “Hey, it’s me. We need to talk about last night and I- I need to talk to you. Can you call me, please? I love you.”

------------------------------

It was a four hour drive to Guthrie, Oklahoma. Four hours to sit on her phone and scroll through her timeline. Four hours for her dad to listen to shitty music and act like this was a fun, little trip they were taking. Four hours to flip through recipe boards and save things she wanted to try next. Four hours to call Tomas with no answer on the other line.

Nesta couldn’t even lie to herself and pretend something had happened, couldn’t even pretend he wasn’t getting her texts or calls. He was still posting on Facebook, still sharing pictures he found funny, still going about like nothing was wrong.

And then, with a little less than an hour left in their silent drive, they blew a tire.

For the first time since they began their journey, Isaac’s smile faltered. They pulled onto the side of the road and Isaac turned off the engine. Nesta still had her bare feet up on the dash, still was scrolling through her phone when Isaac got out of the truck.

He was muttering something under his breath but Nesta didn’t pay him any mind. She was too bitter that she was there to begin with.

Maybe they wouldn’t have a spare and they’d be stuck there for the entirety of the weekend. With any luck, they would have to call Elain to come and get them and take Nesta back home.

That hope faded when Isaac pulled a tire out of the back.

The tire was changed, the flat caused by a deep gash from a nail they hit along the road at some point, and they were back on their way. It cost them nearly two hours, though, and by the time they pulled into the skeezy motel her father had booked a room in, the first night of the rodeo was all but done.

Isaac kept apologizing, saying they’d get to the arena early the next morning, that was she could find Tomas before everything began. Nesta wasn’t stupid though, she knew her dad’s old roping buddies were all here, all with their sons or daughters, if there were here for breakaway or to run barrels. She was sure he was excited to tell them that the up and coming Tomas Mandray was his soon-to-be son-in-law. Or so he thought.

The last thing she heard him say before he fall asleep was, “Man, I can’t wait to see his face.”

Yeah, she thought. Me either.

She didn’t sleep at all that night and when morning came she was completely exhausted. On top of that looming exhaustion, she felt nauseated at the thought of Tomas seeing her. She had called him once more before she’d “gone to sleep” the night before but got his voicemail, once again.

As Nesta hopped into the truck with Isaac, she thought she was going to puke all over the floorboards. Her father was so excited at being back at the rodeo that he didn’t even notice his firstborn's silence or discomfort.

Nesta hated him for that, hated him for not noticing, for not listening.

She hated him for forcing her to be here, for forcing her into this life, just like he had her mother.

Tomas was just like her father.

And her? She was just like her mother.

Two people who were attracted to one another but shouldn’t have a future together, because that future would be shit, no matter how hard they tried.

By the time Isaac parked their truck, Nesta was paralyzed. She couldn’t move, couldn’t think, could hardly breathe.

Perhaps she should be the bigger person. She should go and find him, apologize, and tell him good luck. But even though that’s what she should do, the thought had her hands shaking at her sides.

You can do this, don’t be an idiot, she told herself. She should consider herself lucky. At seventeen, she had found someone who loved her.

At least, he told her he did.

Until he got pissed and stopped answering her calls.

“Coming, Nesta?” Isaac asked, grin wide, tapping on her window. He was ready to go dwell in his safe haven. Nesta had to follow him. She was his excuse to be there, after all.

She nodded, and took a deep breath before opening the passenger side door and hauling herself out.

Nesta and her father gave their tickets to the man at the door and walked in. Isaac stopped and stood there, breathing it all in.

All Nesta could smell was horse shit.

“Isaac Archeron, you son of a bitch, what are you doing here?”

With that one sentence, her father was whisked away, into conversations with his old rodeo friends, seeing people he hadn’t seen since before Nesta was ever even thought of. And she was on her own.

Nesta sat down in the stands. She fiddled with her phone, not wanting to scroll through Instagram for the fiftieth time that day, but having nothing better to do.

Until her phone rang.

His name flashed up on her screen. She’d been trying to get in touch with him for three days, yet now that he was calling her back, she couldn’t make her hands work, couldn’t remember how to swipe her finger across the call to answer the phone.

She answered, but her voice was hesitant as she said, “Hello?”

“Nes? Hey, sorry, my phone hasn’t been working.”

Bullshit bullshit bullshit.

“It’s okay,” she lied. She stood, walking down the bleachers and looked towards the entrance. Her father was still where she’d left him, telling war stories and talking about the good ole days. She could see the stables behind a tarp with the rodeo association's name on it. She asked, “Are you warming Rain up?”

“Nah, he’s good to go. I got a ride in this morning. Just getting him brushed down.”

He hasn’t said a single word about her leaving the other night. Had he not noticed? Was she that insignificant that he hadn't even realized she was gone?

“Well that’s good.” She sighed. “Can we talk for a-?”

He cut her off. “Hey, babe, I gotta get going. Wish me luck?”

“Oh, I- Okay. Good luck,” she said. “I love you.”

“Yeah, you, too,” he said, already pulling the phone from his face. “Bye.”

Nesta stood still as the line went dead. With a deep sigh, she shoved her phone into her pocket. He must be getting ready to make his debut for the day, maybe she would be able to catch him, surprise him, before he went. 

He wanted her to wish him luck.

Maybe she would, if only she could catch him in time.

She wandered around the bleachers, dodging people who looked like they lived and breathed watching underage rodeo championships. 

She had never seen so much hype. The rodeo was somewhere she hoped to dodge as often as possible even though, obviously, she wasn’t always blessed enough to do so. 

Either way, she continued on her journey to finding Tomas, but she came up short.

Looking down at her tennis shoes, which were covered in dust and dirt, she scolded herself for not packing different shoes. Not only were her sneakers filthy but her feet hurt like shit from all the walking. 

Another name was called to get on deck, but she didn’t hear Tomas’, so she went on her way. Maybe he was off somewhere trying to clear his head.

With that thought, she went around to the back of the bleachers, where trucks and trailers were lined up. She passed people laughing and celebrating in deep conversation, but they all ignored her, thankfully.

She turned the corner at the end of the row, though, and froze.

She had found Tomas, but he wasn’t getting ready.

At least, he wasn’t getting ready alone.

His lips were stuck to a girl’s neck, whose head was thrown back, her eyes closed. He was palming her breast beneath her tied up flannel shirt. 

Nesta tried to say something, but she had once again been paralyzed, frozen in place.

“‘Scuse me, ma’am.” An older man leading a horse stepped around her, and the horse whinnied as it passed.

The sound got Tomas’ attention.

His eyes went wide as he saw her standing there, in the doorway to the stables. He blinked a few times, and the girl didn’t realize their fun was over. Her hands roved over his body and she kissed his neck. Nesta began to shake her head and walk away.

“Ne- Nesta, wait!”

She turned and it took everything in her not to break into a run. She wanted to leave. She wanted to vomit. She wanted to scream.

She wanted to cry.

Her entire future, that stupid future she was dreading so much, but the only plan she’d ever had… it was gone.

“Baby!” His voice was much closer than it had been and his hand closed around her wrist. “Baby! Baby, baby, baby. Hey, it’s not what it looks like.”

Her voice was small, but she said, “Get your hands off of me.”

He didn’t. Instead he gripped her shoulders and said, “Whatever you thought you just saw, I promise you’re wrong.”

“It’s a little hard to misinterpret that,” Nesta snapped, snatching her wrist free. “You ignored my calls. Made me feel like shit for the other night. And while I was feeling like shit...you were getting….” Nesta’s words trailed off, and she laughed, loudly, humorlessly. “Fuck off, Tom.” 

“Hey,” he begged, brushing her hair back, the hair that had come undone from her ponytail. “Don’t do this.”

Nesta hated herself for crying in front of him, for shaking her head, for taking a step back. “It’s over. I never want to see you….never want to see you again.”

Her voice broke, and that only made the pitiful scene worse.

Nesta Archeron walked away from Tomas Mandray, and she never wanted to look back.

[songtoyou]

Chapter 1: The Pope, The Rabbi, and The Gypsy

Tolerate It

Paring: Modern!Tommy Shelby x Original Female Character

Story Rating: R (No minors should read this fic).

Word Count: 1,795

Warnings: Talks of sexual content.

Description: Tommy Shelby is the owner and CEO of Shelby Company Limited. Starting out as a Bookmaker, Tommy had big ideas to expand his riches. In the past ten years, the company has grown rapidly to expand its business ventures from bars to producing alcohol, manufacturing motor vehicle parts, and exporting. One of the richest men in Great Britain, Tommy Shelby, has it all. Unfortunately, the death of his wife, Grace, left the multi-millionaire mogul alone and depressed. He needed someone to fulfill his needs and deepest darkest desires.

A/N: I was very pleased with the positive reaction to the prologue of this fic. I am glad that some of you are liking it. For this chapter, we learn a little more about the OC, and how she will meet Tommy. We also learn about the owners and some of Excelsior's clientele, the secret exclusive club in downtown London. Tommy looks for a new girl now that Lizzie is gone. 

Note: Italics represent the past or past conversations.

Feedback is wonderful. It is nice knowing if people actually like this fic. I do not permit my work to be posted on any other site without my permission.

Excelsior was an exclusive invite-only club located in downtown London. Members included high profile men from actors, musicians, politicians, and business moguls. The activities that occur at Excelsior were top secret. Members and workers at the club were bound by a non-disclosure agreement to ensure nothing was made public. Excelsior was merely a very high-end gentlemen's club to the unassuming public, but underneath, it allowed members to succumb to their deepest desires.

Owned and run by "Duchess" Izabella Petrovna and her niece, "Princess" Tatiana Petrovna, the club was steeped in excess and glamour. No suspecting individual would ever think to confuse the establishment as an underground sex club. While the Duchess ran the business side of the operations, the Princess recruited the women. There was a certain criterion that the Princess enforced when it came to employing. First, the women had to be between the ages of twenty-one to thirty-five. The women underwent an extensive background check, along with a psych evaluation. Many of the employees found it hilarious that the Duchess and Princess required a psych evaluation considering that they themselves were equally eccentric…or insane, to put it mildly. Birth control was a non-negotiable requirement the women had to abide by. The women at the club had to partake in monthly STD tests to ensure they were clean and healthy. 

While the Duchess and Princess were an oddball pairing, there was no denying that they cared for their girls and valued the work they did for the members. Their business endeavor allowed the Petrovna's to continue to live in luxuries that Russia no longer was able to provide. They paid well.

It was how Rose Turner provided a decent life for herself and her son, Louis. Rose had been working at the club for six years and in that time had garnered quite the clientele. However, it would be three men who would have a tumultuous impact on Rose's life. She referred to them as the Pope, the Rabbi, and the Gypsy. 

The Pope was Luca Changretta, an Italian man from New York. Luca was a prominent businessman whose family still resided in England. While Audrey Changretta was a former school teacher, her husband Vincent, and youngest son Angel, owned restaurants and bars from Manchester to Birmingham, to London. They also dabbled in the real estate business and owned numerous high rise apartment buildings. The Changretta family was viewed as a rival to the Shelby clan. Both have tried to partner on business ventures with no deal ever emerging. The two families did not trust one another. 

With Luca stationed over in the States, he would visit his family throughout the year during holidays, for birthdays, weddings, funerals, openings of new Changretta establishments. Time home also allowed for Luca to engage in his pleasures. His visits to Excelsior were always a big deal. Everything had to be perfect, according to Izabella. Tatiana assigned Rose to Luca. 

"You are his type, no," Tatiana would say. "He likes the way you look. That innocent and doe-eyed look. Hooker with a heart of gold, they say, right."

Rose did not question Tatiana. She read through Luca's file to find out more about her new client and what he liked. The man was noticeably big into role play, especially in a religious aspect. He loved playing the part of a holy man while Rose played the Catholic school girl or nun. It was how Luca got the nickname, "The Pope." The man thankfully always managed to be a gentleman. He respected the rules of the club and never went overboard. If Rose was uncomfortable with acting out a scene, she knew it was okay to voice her worries. Luca never tried to fight her or manipulate her into partaking in a scene. He respected Rose's boundaries. She was one of his favorites at the club. 

Alfie Solomons was nicknamed "The Rabbi" and another important client at Excelsior. He had his fill of women during his time at the club. So much so that the girls would talk openly with one another about his particular habits. For instance, Alfie never partook in actual intercourse with the women. Instead, he relied on toys such as dildos or vibrators to bring pleasure to his women. He would also make sure to wear black latex gloves while touching the women. Many assumed it was to keep himself clean and pure since he participated in activities that would be deemed excruciatingly unholy. Alfie made sure that Tatiana only gave him gentile women.

"No Jewish women, love. They are holy creatures and should be remained as such, okay," Alfie demanded.

When Rose saw Alfie for the first time, she was intimidated by his big stature. However, Alfie proved to be one of Rose's favorite clients. The man knew how to pleasure a woman. He always made scenes fun and intense. Some women would even fight over who got to be with Alfie on certain nights he was at the club. They all loved him. 

As the son of a Russian Jewish woman and working-class Londoner father, Alfie worked his way up in the world. It would be the distillery business where Alfie would make his fortunes. From rum and vodka to gin, beer, and cider, Solomons & Sons was the top distillery company in the United Kingdom. It did not take long for the Shelby family came knocking on Alfie's door to partner with on business endeavors. While Alfie would continue to remain skeptical about the Shelby family, he knew the business deal with them would be too good to pass up. He loved having a go at Tommy Shelby from time-to-time to see how far he could push the Birmingham lad. 

In fact, it was Alfie who told Tommy about Excelsior. 

"You go from whore to whore with no care in the world. It is like you got a death wish. Seriously, don't you ever worry about getting the clap? I'll tell ya what…let me talk with one of my associates about inviting you to join this club I frequent. It will have everything you ever wanted and more. Trust me," Alfie shared with Tommy at one of their business meetings two years ago. 

Tommy merely scoffed as he took a drag of his cigarette. "Trust you. Not likely, Alfie. As I recall, it was because of you that the deal with the Changrettas fell apart. Something about mentioning how my brother John got into a fight with Angel Changretta over a girl they both were seeing at the time."

With a shit-eating grin, Alfie replied, "I am a beacon of truth, eh."

"More like a pain in my ass," Tommy smirked. 

As promised, Alfie talked with Tatiana about inviting Tommy to the club. She was adamant about meeting with the self-made millionaire. The Princess wanted to make sure he was suitable to partake in her establishment. If Tatiana had the ability, she would have kept Tommy all to herself if she could. 

"None of those whores deserve you, Thomas," said Tatiana as she laid in bed next to him.

"No, they deserve better. Better than me, that is for sure. But…they are all I got. So, I need your help in finding the best one for me. One that I can take out in public if need be. One who can be presentable to society at certain functions I have to attend. That way, I can keep up the appearance of a family man who still grieves the loss of his wife while trying to move on with my life."

Lizzie Stark filled that position for two years before her sudden and unexpected departure at Excelsior. Now Tatiana had to find a new girl to assign for Tommy, which was no easy task with his certain expectations. The man was rather picky, to say the least. Perusing her girls' files, she realized that there was only one who could meet the requests of Tommy Shelby.

"Rose Turner," announced Tatiana and handed Tommy her file. "She has been with us for a couple of years. She is considered top-quality—good reviews from our top clients. As you can see, she is beautiful, no. She can be elegant if need be for your functions. Adventurous…flexible, if you know what I mean. She'd be perfect for you. What do you think?"

Tommy looked over Rose's file. Her birthdate indicated she was in her early thirties and from Blackpool, a seaside resort town on England's Irish Sea coast. It was England's very own Coney Island. Ada took Karl and Charlie there for a weekend getaway not long after Grace died to cheer up her nephew.

"How many men does she see regularly?" Tommy asked.

"Rose is considered top quality. Her clientele is small. She has no more than four regulars. One does not live here full-time. He only sees her when he visits family. The others…well, they are people from your circle of business partners."

"Is that so. Who would these men be?" Tommy inquired as he continued to look through Rose's file.

"I am not at liberty to tell you such vital information…"

"Well, Tatiana, let me take a guess. Could Alfie Solomons be one of Rose's clients? How about Darby Sabini? Is he on the list? Billy Kimber before his untimely departure on this Earth?" Tommy took a drag of his cigarette and tossed Rose's file on Tatiana's desk. "Set up a meeting for me with Rose. Not here, though. Tell her to meet me at The Savoy Hotel this Saturday night. Give her this as well," Tommy handed Tatiana an envelope she assumed had cash in it. "Tell her to buy something nice for the occasion. The two of us can talk over dinner, and if all goes well, we can end the night on a good note. Just know this Princess, if all goes well, then Rose becomes mine. Her other clients can fuck off for all I care. I am not one to share what is mine."

So here Rose was, at one of London's top boutiques picking out a dress for Saturday night. Tatiana explained the possible arrangement with Mr. Shelby, and if things went well, he would be Rose's main client. Meaning he would become Rose's only client. She had reservations about it until Tatiana shared how much Mr. Shelby was willing to pay. It was more money than Rose originally would make. Tatiana shared that Mr. Shelby would provide Rose a weekly allowance on top of her services' standard fees. The deal with too good to pass up. However, Tatiana was adamant to Rose that meeting Tommy first would be wise before agreeing to any deals. 

All Rose knew was that she had a date with The Gypsy. 

[siriuslyshewrote]

Tell Me - Finn Shelby

Request - Hey girl can I just say I love your fics and I’m sorry they’re not getting the same amount of notes that they used to!😘 I think you’re fabulous and if it’s not too much trouble can I request Finn Shelby where he has to marry for a business deal? It can be angst/fluff:

A/N - arranged marriage AU’s I swear... they’re one of my favs. Also can I just thank @ the lovely requester of this for being so freaking nice??!?

1927

You both stood in the kitchen (your new kitchen, you reminded yourself), in what was the opposite of a comfortable silence. You both still wore the clothes you had worn to the wedding party, but the drink had worn off now, and you had both suddenly realised that you knew nothing about each other.

“I know this isn’t what you’re used to.” Finn Shelby’s hand gestured to the room. “The house, I mean. Well, I guess this too.”

You shrugged, filling the kettle and placing it on the stove, searching for something to do.

“I think the house is beautiful.”

He was right in a way. You had grown up in a grand country manor, with more rooms than inhabitants could ever fill, though their egos most certainly did. Your father had struck a business deal with Thomas Shelby - and the product of that was yours and Finn Shelby’s marriage, their alliance. You hated that they had bargained with people - especially that one of those people were you, but it didn’t surprise you.

Growing up, you had known you would end up in an arranged marriage - all the women in your family did, one of the most important choices in their lives controlled by men who acted like they knew better. Some part of you had always thought that perhaps it would be wonderful. Your mother and father truly had loved each other, before your mother passed away. Some part of you thought you would end up with the same, with a rich boy who maybe would be a bit of a prick, but would love you all the same. But instead of that, you had been engaged to a Peaky Blinder . And not only that, one of the Shelby boys.

You had thrown a fit at first - not wanting anything to do with the life that being married to a Shelby entailed , the drugs, the drink, the cheating, and more importantly , the constant threat of death if they made another enemy.

“My sister, Ada, she decorated it. She thinks she’s some sort of interior designer.” He let out a laugh, though it was halting and uncomfortable. He sounded as if he had about as much clue as what to do as you.

“She did it well.” You poured the hot tea into two mugs, going to pour milk, before realising you didn’t even know if Finn liked milk in his tea. You let out an exhale.

“Look, lets not pretend that either of us wanted this. Let’s just get on with it, yeah?” You didn’t intend to be harsh - in fact, your tone was soft, but you knew it came across as cruel.

He paused. “Yeah, you’re right.”

You tried to pretend that you couldn’t hear the hurt in his voice, as you cradled the mug of tea in your hands.

___________

Two Months Later

Finn appeared home relatively early for once, slamming through the door loudly in his usual day, at around half seven, startling the cat snoozing in your lap.

“I’m home!” He yelled.

“I think the whole street knows that!” You replied with a laugh, as he entered the living room, shrugging off his jacket, letting it drop onto the floor behind him, not particularly caringly, as he shot you a grin.

Ever since that conversation in the kitchen, you and Finn had lived together as nothing more than friends, though it took a while to build your relationship up to even that point. You thought it was the best way, at first, convinced you could never have feelings for him, and him, to you. Recently, however, you couldn’t deny that your feelings towards the Shelby boy were beginning to change.

He paused at the mantelpiece for a moment.

“You put up photos?” There was a smile in his voice, a small one, as he looked back at you.

You stood up, walking next to him, at your collection at the mantelpiece - his family photos and yours mixed together , almost as if you were a real family. For a moment, it felt like you were.

“I finally got round to unpacking, yeah.” You laughed a little.

“Is that your mum?”

You looked at the photo, the laughing woman, who looked so much like you, holding a five year old you on her lap, and nodded.

“Yeah, that’s her.”

“She was beautiful.”

“She really was. I can’t remember much about her, of course. She died when I was only little.”

“Like mine.” Finn spoke softly, his eyes glancing to the photo of his mother, and all of his family, all of them looking a lot younger, and a lot happier.

“Do you remember much about her? I... I mean, I can’t about my mum. Just a couple memories, the rest is just... fog.”

“Not much. I remember this one time really vividly, though, I don’t know if it was just a dream. We were in the living room, just us two and Ada, and I remember her dancing with me. I remember her laugh, the most. I can still hear it, if I close my eyes.” His voice was soft, and his eyes were firmly focused on the photo, as if he was lost in the memory. “What about you?”

You paused for a few moments - you never really talked about your mother, but with Finn ... though you didn’t fully know him, you trusted him, a lot, already.

“I must have been only three or four at the time, but she took me out to the grounds of the house, and I picked a tree, and she made me a swing, from scratch. My mum loved stuff like that. I loved that swing. My dad cut it down after she... after she passed. I don’t think he could bear any reminders of her.”

You both stood in silence for a few moments, lost in the past.

“Your dads a bit of a...” Finn began, then stopped himself as if unsure if he was going too far.

“A prick? Oh, definitely.” You both laughed a little.

You rearranged one of the photo frames so the grinning boy in it faced you.

“Who’s that? I don’t remember meeting him-“

“That’s my older brother. Eddie.” Your voice caught a little as you looked at the photo - his war photo, the one they took when he was enlisted. It was the last one you would ever have. “He died - in the Great War , I mean.”

“I’m so sorry.” Finn’s voice sounded sincere, sounded truly sorry, was the first person who ever really had had that reaction.

“He raised me, really, after Mum died. He was my best friend.” Your fingers traced over his smiling face. “He promised me he’d come home. He nearly did - he died two days before Armistice.”

“Shit...” His voice trailed off for a moment. “Do you know... where he’s buried? Is it in England?”

“They sent us a letter, telling us where he is. Somewhere in France. Calais.”

“Maybe we could go there, someday.”

You turned your face, tears welling up in your eyes.

“Sorry - was that stupid to say?” His voice was slightly panicked.

“No, no, no.” You said hurriedly,not wanting him to get the wrong idea, wiping away your tears. “That- that would be wonderful Finn.”

You reached out your hand to his, linking your fingers together, shooting him a grin, watching the corners of his smile pull up.

__________________

It was several days later, when you were walking home from the market, with the intention of cooking Finn a meal you had discussed a few nights ago, the one his mother always made for him as a kid.

You’d only just pushed open the gate to your cottage, when you noticed Finn rather haphazardly balancing in the branch of the old oak tree in the garden.

“Finn! What are you ... doing.” You trailed off as you got closer, noticed what he was doing.

Dressed in only a shirt and suit trousers, a small gash on his face that hadn’t been there when you left only a few hours ago, Finn was carefully securing rope onto a tree, that was connected to a small, wooden swing. You bit your lip, trying to keep your emotions in.

He shot you a startled grin.

“I thought you’d be out longer, I wanted it to be done-“ He carefully lowered himself to the ground, so he was facing you. “Before you got back.”

“You made me a swing?” You fingers brushed the rope, lip trembling.

“I remembered what you said the other night, about your dad cutting down your swing - I wanted to make you one here. I wanted to make it like... I don’t know, home.” His cheeks were flushed red, his eyes darting around awkwardly.

“This might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.” Your voice cracked.

“You like it then?” He grinned.

“I love it.”

Spurred on by emotion, you stepped forward, one of your hands cradling his cut open cheek, eyes looking into his. Gently, unsure, you kissed him. He kissed back, not showing the awkwardness you knew he felt from his flushed cheeks, his hands going to your waist, and you realised how much you liked them there.

You pulled away after a minute, eyes going back to your swing, Finn’s hands still on your waist.

“Should we try it then?”

Your voice indicated towards the swing, but really, you thought, you meant your relationship. For the first time, you were certain you could grow to love the auburn haired freckle faced boy in front of you - if you hadn’t fallen in love already.

I forgot to tag people (I’m doing it now sorry)

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[grey-water-colors]

Missing You Damian Wayne X Reader Part 2

I really wanted to get into the writing scene here on Tumblr, so I thought I’d start with my latest fixation, the Batfam, specifically Damian Wayne. This is my first time writing him, so please be kind. Just so you know, The reader is a singer and an artist and is popular for both. I hope you enjoy it. If enough people like it I hope to open up requests, but that's only a maybe right now.

Warnings: Drugging. Attempted kidnapping I guess, it doesn’t happen but I’ll throw this in there.  It happens twice.

Pairing: Damian Wayne x Fem!Reader 

Word count: 1,311

Part 1 ~ Part 3

Big thanks to @oreosmama for the title

~~~~~~~~~

He was bored. His homework finished hours ago, Titus was napping on his bed, and he would never ask his brothers to do anything with him. He decided to put on a movie hoping it would pass the time until patrol, and then sleep.

~~~

Your next event was a Hotel in Florence, Italy that was inviting popular singers from around the world to perform. You were excited to go there seeing as people made it sound so beautiful, and you were sure it was, but first you had to get there and the person who booked your flights seemed to hate you. You had 3 stops between your destination and a huge layover at the first stop.

As you found your seat on the plane you closed your eyes and thought about the Charity Event last night. It had gone pretty well. All of your art had sold, and the money was going to giving homes and food to children. People seemed to enjoy the set of music that you had performed. You were exhausted by the time you got back to your hotel room and you barely got out of your magnificent dress before you had collapsed on your bed and promptly fell asleep.

After about 40 hours of flying, you were overjoyed at being out of the airport. You were escorted to the hotel hosting the event and you had about 30 minutes before rehearsals, so you decided to call Damian, needing to hear his voice. He picked up almost immediately.

“Hey, Dami.”

“Beloved. How are you?”

You smiled. “I’m doing ok. I just got to the hotel, it’s beautiful here. You?”

“I’m doing well enough. I miss you. How did the Event go?”

“It was a success; they raised a couple hundred thousand over their goal.”

“That’s good beloved.”

“How are classes going? Anything exciting happen?”

“No. I find myself bored without you here.”

“You should paint something. That always keeps you from being bored.”

You loved when he painted. While your artwork sold for a lot, and people all over the world enjoyed it, you loved his art more. It was always from the heart and his pieces always dragged you in. You could feel the emotion in his works. He hadn’t been painting a lot recently though, claiming he was too busy. Between spending time with you, school, and being Robin, he didn’t really have time anymore, especially with crime rates going up.

“I hadn’t thought of that. Maybe I will.”

You could tell from his voice that he was thinking of what he was going to do, and it warmed your heart to think that you had helped him.

~~~

He was tempted to get a flight to Florence just to see you, but that wasn’t reasonable. He thought back to when he had scoffed at the movies Grayson watched, where the love interest would fly out to only spend a couple hours with their love, but part of him understands it now. His brothers had thought you had bewitched him when he had brought you to the manor the first time. They didn’t believe that someone could like him or even want to stick around of their own free will. They meant it with that kind of brotherly love, but they teased him relentlessly while you were around.

You two had first met at Gotham Academy. You had been in his class when he had first enrolled there. You hadn’t talked to him, and you wouldn’t until many years later in Junior year. Along with being partners in chemistry, you were also in his art class. You were as smart as he was and just as talented, you made a killer team.

It was at the beginning of the summer before senior year when you both got together, and even a year later you were still going strong as a power couple. Of course there had been rough patches, like when you had found out he was Robin, and when you were given the opportunity to travel around the world to show your art, and even when the paparazzi had gotten wind of your relationship and all the tabloids had their own story. You hadn’t gone out in public for weeks, but it had died down and you were able to continue life together, a little stronger than before.

He adored you and everything you did. You were his anchor to who he was when being Robin threatened to take over his life. His lifeline when he had his first interaction with Fear Gas and couldn’t sleep. You were the perfect balance that he needed in his life, a perfect give and take, and he wouldn’t give that up for anything.

~~~

The Hotel Event was going smoothly. You had sung at 10am and again at 1:30pm, and now you were mingling with the other singers that were there.

Soon, you were being escorted to the dining room for a fancy dinner, then a ball where rich Italians could meet the singers.

After dinner, you mingled with people, and even danced with a few gentlemen who knew you for your art more than your singing.

The event was going smoothly, until it wasn’t. You started to feel sick and tired.

You knew what it was, as much as you wish you didn’t. You had experienced this at your first Wayne Gala.

Damian had left your side for a moment to talk to an important person, and you were alone, or as alone as you could be surrounded by so many people. A young man only a couple years older than you had come up and complimented your dress. While making small talk he gave you a drink, plucked right off a server’s tray. With a fancy gesture, he offered you the cup, and not wanting to be impolite, you drank it.

The man asked if you wanted to dance, and while you didn’t, you accepted anyways. You had always been too willing to please people after all. You had started to feel faint and asked to go sit down but he hadn’t let you. You felt worse and worse as the dance continued, so nauseous that you were sure you’d see dinner again and so tired that black was creeping into your vision.

You had spotted Damian a short distance away and you tried to catch his eye. With all your willpower you tried to get his attention, and by some miracle, you succeeded. You gave him what you hoped was an alarmed look, as the young man practically dragged you across the dance floor.

Just as you were about to pass out, you felt yourself falling, but then being caught. You were carried bridal style out of the venue, away until darkness consumed you.

The man was taken away by police for drugging a minor. You had been on bed-rest for a couple days and Damian had stayed by your side the entire time. He swore to you that he wouldn’t leave you alone ever again at a Gala, and he’s kept that promise, but he wasn’t here now.

You knew you had about 15 minutes max to get to your room before you lost consciousness. You looked around carefully to find an older gentleman staring at you, and you identified him as someone you had talked to earlier and probably the person who had drugged you.

You walked up to a group of female singers about your age. “I’m not feeling too well, can one of you help me up to my room please?”

A girl slightly older than you agreed, and she helped you out and up to your room. You debated calling Damian but decided against it. He’d only tell you to stay where you were and hop on a jet over here. He didn’t need to worry about it since you were safe in your room. Just to be safe, you locked your door using the deadbolt and pulled the chair under the handle so no one could get in. With no energy to spare you collapsed on your bed.

[scribble-blog]

CONTINUATION!! part 1 here

“Please,” the unknown hero begged again on the screen. “Paris needs your help. I need your help. Ladybug- wherever she might be- needs your help.”

Jason pauses the video. “So what do you actually want me to do, B?”

Bruce stood up. “We need someone there, to monitor the situation and keep us informed. As CEO, Tim can only stay so long; he’ll be with you for the first three weeks, which we hope will be enough to find the missing hero. From there, the mission is yours. Help the local heroes as much as you can, do what you can to bring down Hawkmoth.”

Jason stalled a minute and examined his fingernails; a habit he picked up from Bruce, even if he didn’t want to admit it. Especially because he knew Bruce only did it in his persona as Rich and Unfathomable Bruce Wayne. How dare the man accidentally pass along a habit that he literally only used to deflect people? Not that Jason didn’t use it for the same thing- but that was entirely beside the point.

“And why can’t Boy Wonder the Latest spend some time in France?” Jason looked up at him. “Or Dick, who would probably literally flip at the chance to take even more heroes under his wing? Hell, You’ve got Cass doing work overseas- redirect her to Paris.”

“We can’t displace Cass,” Bruce sighed. “What she’s doing is too important. Dick is unavailable, and Damian-“

“Yeah, no, I shouldn’t have even-“ Jason almost laughed. “Demonspawn doesn’t play well with too many others.”

“No,” Bruce said, and Jason could almost hear how frustrated he was with that fact. “I need you there, Jason. I wouldn’t ask otherwise.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” Jason grumbled. “Fine. I’ll go with the Replacement and fix up Paris. Not like I had plans for tomorrow.”

“You’d better clear up your calendar a bit further than that,” Tim said from behind him. “I’ve been looking into this since Bruce sent me the video.” He handed Jason a picture, one that sent a chill down his spine. “Yeah. Recognize her?”

The printed photo was of a teen girl, dark hair parted into two pigtails, blue eyes mirthful as she hung off of someone’s shoulder, the darker skinned arm extending from out of frame to hold her up. Jason knew her immediately.

Marinette Todd. Marinette Dupain-Cheng. His estranged younger sister.

“What the fuck,” Jason said quietly, “does she have to do with this? And how the fuck did you know?”

“She’s not in your files anymore, but you’re still in hers, Jason.” Tim replied softly. “And she’s got everything to do with this. Because as far as I can tell…”

He trailed off, reaching for the nearest screen, pulling the picture up easily. And then he pulled up a photo of the missing hero. Jason’s heart skipped a beat, and he could feel himself freeze.

“Marinette is Ladybug,” he breathed. “Marinette’s been a superhero for three years, and now she’s been missing? For months?” He wanted to run. He wanted something to attack. He needed-

To find her.

He needed to be in Paris.

“Tim,” Bruce said reproachfully. Jason spun towards him.

“You weren’t going to tell me til I got there, were you, Bruce?” Jason spat, furious and terrified and empty. “What gives you the fucking right?”

“I didn’t know-“

He didn’t know,” Tim echoed a split second behind Bruce. “I swear, Jason. And I didn’t know there was anything wrong until today.”

Jason growled. “I’m leaving. You can meet me in Paris, Drake.”

He left, emotions boiling beneath his skin. Marinette flashed in his mind, the last time he saw her, in the arms of the baker couple who adopted her. She hadn’t seen him, of course. The last thing he could give his sister was letting her live happily, even if it was without him. He’d been nine, and she was five, and mom had just died and she’d been so hungry but the orphanage wouldn’t take him, with his record, he knew, and-

He shook his head. Thinking about how she’d cried for him after they’d brought her home, thinking about all the nights he’d spent lurking outside their house until they moved back to France and he’d breathed a sigh of relief that she’d be safe-

No. No, no, no. He knew the villain in Paris could use emotions, he couldn’t-

He took a deep breath. He’d find her. He’d go to Paris, he’d find her, and then he’d kick Hawkmoth’s ass to kingdom come.

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[verryberriess]

Accept Me As Your Valentine’s | Rowaelin Oneshot

This is the first fanfiction I’ve ever written!! Thanks to my bestie @maastrash for the encouragement and helping me out :D I hope you guys like it!

Rating: T, mild swearing

Summary: February 14 was the one official day at Greenbriar where an individual could offer chocolates, flowers, or small gifts to someone they admire or want to express pure feelings towards. And Aelin had spent all night making chocolates for a certain someone...

Note: There is potential for the side stories to be written out ... let me know what you think!

February 14. Valentine’s Day. A tradition celebrated around the world where gifts and flowers are exchanged between lovers in order to express a physical act of love. Gifts didn’t have to necessarily be exchanged between lovers, however. Many, in fact, are exchanged between close friends and offered to those whom someone admires.

At Greenbriar High School, Valentine’s Day had become a popular school event over the years. February 14 was the one official day at Greenbriar where an individual could offer chocolates, flowers, or small gifts to someone they admire or want to express pure feelings towards. It was the ultimate event of courage for girls and guys of all classes to attempt a confession towards the person they admired from afar. The hope of having one’s feelings returned often came at the expense of high-end chocolate carefully wrapped in gold foil imported from Switzerland and Belgium or opulent custom-designed pastries from French patisseries.

Rowan Whitethorn, Aedion Ashyrver, and Fenrys Moonbeam were some particular individuals whom many girls had intended to present their chocolates to on this special day, for the reason that these men were the most eligible bachelors of Greenbriar High.

School legend claimed that a couple years ago, alumni Lorcan Salvaterre, infamous for his ruthless and dark manner, had actually started dating someone after she had presented chocolates to him on this particular day. As a result, most people reasoned that if the notorious Lorcan could be swayed by some certain chocolates on Valentine’s Day, there was certainly some charm in the event that had provoked such a miracle.

Amidst the bustling student body, Aelin Galathynius stood in front of her locker and stared down at what she clutched in her hands. A tiny, golden, heart-shaped box she had purchased from the local art store for her homemade chocolates. She had even put in the effort to tie a little bow across the box to complete the aesthetic. It had taken her all night to prepare her chocolates. Although she was certainly talented in consuming large quantities of the physical manifestations of cocoa heaven, they were absolutely a pain to produce. Cooking was not in her favor.

She remembered last night’s events where she burned her first batch of cream and chocolate in the bowl, and in her second attempt, somehow the chocolate had managed to never melt. She stirred for one whole hour for the mixture to turn liquidy as the recipe called; it was apparent that after she had Googled the approximate time it took for chocolate to melt under this process, she knew she had to start over again. Hence, third time's a charm when she followed an easier recipe.  

In the end, she had successfully made chocolates-- or well-- it was as chocolate as chocolate could be. Her chocolate turned out lumpy, with unusual grooves and warts sticking out in various directions. Perhaps that was due to the almond shavings she had added for an artistic touch? Were truffles supposed to carry such a discoloring? She compared her outcome to the one in the article. Ehh.

Aelin took a bite out of one of the six chocolates that had survived her horrific cooking venture. “Hmm,” she mulled over its unusual taste. It was definitely edible. But did it taste like the usual chocolatey decadence she was so accustomed to? Big no. Even if it was chocolate. Even if she was the ultimate chocolate connoisseur who would probably consume any form of chocolate in the world. What she had concocted was a big mistake.

Aelin couldn’t afford to waste any more heavy cream. The jar of cocoa powder that she had gotten earlier that day was also almost out. And it wasn’t like the general store near her operated 24/7. Carefully assembling the remaining five chocolates in the box she had acquired on sale just for tomorrow’s occasion, she wrapped a golden ribbon across and pulled the ends tight.

She couldn’t reason how so many of her fellow classmates had thousands of dollars to spend on chocolates that carried high risk of being rejected. Actually, maybe that was the best form of action anyways, since her truffles didn’t exactly turn out how chocolates were supposed to. But, in reality, this was all Aelin could afford. She lived in the most underprivileged neighborhood in the area and rode on the bus for an hour to get to school everyday. Some days after school, she worked a part-time job to pay for her rent. She was sincerely thankful for being able to attend Greenbriar High under a full scholarship despite the air being polluted by rich snobs and bigots. Nevertheless, Aelin was most thankful for the best friend she’s ever made in her life there. These chocolates were for him, after all.

He better be thankful. Aelin was on the verge of hand-writing letters to thank each chocolate company in the country for their honorable service. She had a newfound appreciation for the treat.

Aelin peered out of her locker to look over her shoulder at an onslaught of girls and boys. The crowd was immense. She hadn’t realized the extent of the school event’s popularity until now. She witnessed some groups exchange treats with each other and heard others talking animatedly about who they would offer theirs to. But the majority of the crowd was focused around a certain group that everyone had aspired to give their chocolates to. Rowan, Fenrys, and Aedion walked as a group through the hall, conversing with each other, stopping intermittently to interact with brave souls who tried to give them chocolates. Fenrys looked like a balancing act. He carried stacks upon stacks of chocolates and sweets within his arms. The pile seemed to grow with each passing second. Aelin feared for all of the treats that would scatter across the school if he ever toppled over… she just hoped she would get there in time to maybe steal some for herself? Aedion carried a few chocolates himself, but most of them were probably hidden inside of his bag, since it was looking extra stuffed today.

She watched as a girl, holding luxury chocolate bars Aelin would have died to get her hands on, approach a notable tall, silver-haired, pine-green eyed individual. He only carried his backpack on his right shoulder-- any sweets he may have received were out of sight. The girl blushed, determinedly held out the chocolates, and shyly insisted, “Rowan, please accept these chocolates!”

Rowan looked upon the unassuming girl and the chocolates with disinterest and replied, “... No.”

With encouragement from her friends to try again, the girl piped up assuredly, “If you could just-”

Rowan cut her off, “I’m sorry, but I can’t accept these.”

The crowd around Rowan and the girl didn’t seem to decrease even with Rowan’s apt rejection. In fact, it only seemed to get bigger. Of course Rowan would reject the chocolates though, reasoned Aelin. He was never big on sweets. But maybe he would accept hers-

Before Aelin could reconsider, she saw Rowan reject yet another person across the hall. This time, he rejected a guy who had wanted to thank Rowan for his help from some extracurricular activity.

No. This is stupid, thought Aelin. If he didn’t accept someone’s chocolates meant to thank him for his help, what were the odds of Rowan accepting hers? They weren’t that close, were they? She had wanted to thank him for being a good friend to her. He was one of her closest friends at school. He had introduced her to the rest of his group and allowed her to meet Lysandra and Fenrys. Why did she feel like she needed a better reason to present him her chocolates?

Aelin shoved her chocolates in her locker and collected her books for the school day.

When she walked into Second period, she scrambled to her seat and shrunk into her chair and focused on a peculiar spot on her desk. It was not long after until Rowan walked in and made eye contact with her. Immediately, his resting bitch face morphed into a grin, “Hey, Fireheart!” Rowan made his way towards Aelin’s seat.

Aelin looked up from the all-too interesting black dust speck and carefully crafted her response, smiling smugly, “Buzzard! I’m surprised you’re not carrying a mountain of chocolates with you.”

Rowan smirked, “Well, I have my own agenda to account for today.” Rowan peered at Aelin expectantly. Aelin only stared back. Was he trying to communicate telepathically with her somehow? She would have to remind him again that it wouldn’t work. “But I’m also wondering-- “

Before Rowan could finish, their teacher walked in and silenced the room with her eerie screeching throughout the class. Rowan, about to quickly tell Aelin something, hastily turned back around towards the board at the lecturing tone of their teacher, who reminded him that class had already started.

Aelin was confused. But she figured he would tell her later. They sat at lunch together with the rest of their friends anyway. During the entirety of the class, Aelin couldn’t help but wonder what he was going to ask her. He looked at her as if he was expecting something, but he also looked hesitant to ask her about whatever he wanted to ask. His idiotic face was too much for her to think about right now. What did he expect from her? Chocolates? No, she was still on the brink of destroying those utter atrocities. She had yet to decide whether she still wanted to give them to him, but considering the way he acted towards everyone else who tried to give him something, she was leaning to not.

Towards the end of class, Aelin packed up her bag and readied her materials for her next class. Next period she had to turn in a paper before class started. Otherwise, it would be considered late.

When the bell rang signaled for Passing period, Rowan turned back around in his seat to approach Aelin again, but she remarked, “I’ll see you at lunch! I have a paper to turn in!” and ran out of the classroom.

At lunch, she found the usual table already occupied by her friends who were already discussing intensely about the events of their day so far. It was apparent that everyone already had dozens of boxes of treats set out before them. She sat down next to Lysandra and inquired about her friends’ large collections, “How do you guys already have so many chocolates?  It’s literally lunch and we only sat through three periods of the day so far,” Aelin was seriously concerned with the popularity of her own friends. With their collection alone, they could feed a whole nation. The total costs of all of the gifts themselves could probably amount to the entire GDP of England or something.

“Well, Aelin, it’s all because of my infinitesimal charm. It’s also a little process I like to call, ‘accept and accept’” replied Fenrys jokingly.

“No, I’m specifically wondering why YOU, of all people, have been offered chocolate!” Aelin grinned back. She loved joking with Fenrys. But now she wondered why she ended up empty handed. No one had offered her anything yet. Maybe she had been too much of an oddball at school to make any sort of formidable impression among her peers. Was she too unapproachable? She watched the exchange between Lysandra and Aedion. She guessed that eighty percent of the gifts that Lysandra received were from Aedion. It would have been nice to receive something too…

Next, she observed Rowan. He had resigned from any conversation to focus all of his concentration on his food to ignore Fenrys, who kept berating him with a small box of special hazelnut chocolates Fenrys had gotten from Russia. That especially looked appetizing. “Come on, Rowan! I ordered these a few days ago just for you! They taste just like Nutella!”

Rowan grumbled something incoherent and concentrated harder onto his food.

Fenrys eyebrows furrowed. He turned away from Rowan to face Aelin. An idea must have hit him because soon his disappointed expression morphed into that of a devious one. Aelin waited to brace herself for whatever rambunctious idea that Fenrys had apparently come up with. “So Aelin, would you mind-”

The movement was so fast, the whole table fell silent at the abrupt speed that had been displayed. Rowan had swiped the hazelnut chocolates from Fenrys, tucked them besides his lunch, and resumed eating. Aelin was shocked about what had just happened. Lysandra and Aedion, who had paused their conversation, both resumed their exchange. Their talking had seemed to lower even more so in volume, almost to that of whispers, discussing whatever between themselves that had to be kept a secret from all of them. Expressions coy, they traded little smiles and light touches between each other. Fenrys’ only response to Rowan’s reaction was a gleeful smile of victory. He continued to badger Rowan as they both ate.

Aelin scrutinized the little box of chocolates that Rowan had kept next to his lunch container. Damn, she really wanted them. She was so ready to accept them from Fenrys if Rowan hadn’t stolen them away. As if he sensed her watching his chocolates, he gracefully gathered them closer towards himself, out of her reach. Aelin huffed in resignation. There was no way she could attempt to steal the treats now.

While everyone had an endless supply of chocolates, where were hers? She was the ultimate chocolate connoisseur. She was the most qualified to be receiving chocolates. This kind of school event was made for her! She should have been receiving all sorts of things now. She knew she wasn’t exactly the nicest person in the school, nor a typical rich kid that could lure others to be her friend, but she wasn’t a fiend! Consequently, her own source of chocolates from this day were the chocolates that she had made herself… and while those things were chocolate, under her jurisdiction, they were not qualified to be considered as such. To top it all off, she hadn’t even made those chocolates for herself.

She looked out at the other tables. A group of girls cheered as they exchanged little boxes with bows tied atop. She saw another guy blush and shyly present a heart-shaped box to another girl. Groups mingled and high fived each other as they handed out treats to each other. Aelin’s felt an unpleasant tug in her chest as she observed students carry out the gift-giving event.

But as Aelin turned her attention back to her own table, she had realized that her friends had exchanged chocolates without her. She watched Fenrys play Jenga out of the boxes that he received and Lysandra and Aedion in their own world. Rowan only kept Fenrys’ chocolate, but that was because he had turned down all of the other gifts throughout the day. She looked at the collection of chocolates that Lysandra and Aedion scattered around them on the table and zeroed in on two tiny red-wrapped boxes of hazelnut chocolates that have been imported from Russia.

Aelin frowned. Suddenly those hazelnut chocolates didn’t look so appetizing anymore. Nor any of the other chocolates that she had seen exchanged today. She couldn’t control the feeling of her lips starting to tremble or the sudden deep tugging in her chest that felt like a million bricks had settled atop her chest. She tentatively rose from her seat at the table. Her long bangs shielded her misted eyes from the group, fortunately covering her face as she remarked shakily, “I just remembered I had an assignment due next period. I’ll see you guys later.”

As Aelin stood up, about to leave, Rowan called, “Wait, Aelin, you’ve barely touched your food.”

Aedion chimed in, “Yeah, you should eat at least a little bit, Aelin. We still have three more periods to go.”

It was true. Aelin had just gotten back from class and knew that she’d only sat for a few minutes. She had barely touched her lunch. But the gnawing in her gut diminished her usually ravenous appetite. Aelin pulled on a smile. It was strange how exhausting it felt to force her lips to tug in a motion that was so effortless and natural to execute only moments before. She couldn’t see the group’s reaction, but responded, “I’m suddenly just not hungry anymore.” She pivoted herself around so as to not face the group and walked out of the cafeteria in haste.

It was bad enough that sometimes she had felt like an outsider at her own school. But the feeling only solidified today as she truly realized the reality of her position. She interacted and got along with her classmates well and participated in class, and although she was not as close to her peers she wanted to be, compared to herself and her usual group, it hit her that one of her classmates had passed out goodie bags of candy corn to everyone in the class but her. She didn’t realize it until the end of class when she asked her classmate why everyone held the same goodie bag. It didn’t bother her that much because she was eager to go to lunch… but now it was at the forefront of her mind. And now? She felt like an outsider to her own lunch group.

Her footsteps thudded through the hall. They sounded louder than usual, as if she were the only one walking through them. There were a few people loitering the hallway, yet they felt so far away. This small stretch of space that usually felt so narrow and crowded now felt like it could stretch for miles. All Aelin could hear right now were her footsteps. Everything else was muted. Her thoughts whirled, a simultaneous mess of gibberish and nothingness and everything at the same time. Her steps carried her to her locker, where she now beheld the little, golden, heart-shaped box. She didn’t have the heart to throw out the hours of work that she put into the little monstrosities, but…

Rowan had been offered chocolates that had probably cost more than her whole month’s rent. Fenrys’ were from Russia for fuck’s sake. If he had trouble accepting even his own friend’s presents, what were the odds of him accepting hers? It’s not like she was any different as a person compared to her friends. But even so, what did she have to offer? She was poor. She walked in rags and everyone else lept in riches. Aelin felt the tears that she fought so hard to suppress well up and stream down her face. If she could physically put a price on how much she felt she owed Rowan, the number would be in the thousands. Millions. What did crippled, deformed chocolates amount to compared to the things that these daughters and sons of millionaires could afford and buy without even batting an eye?

Rowan had given her so much. So, so much. Friendship. Laughter. Dessert... And something else she was so afraid to put into words. She knew it in her heart earlier when she began thinking of what to gift him. She knew what she had felt when she tried to make the chocolates over and over again. She knew what she was trying to convince away from herself when she stood at her locker this morning and watched Rowan reject gift after gift.

But she wouldn’t admit it now. Couldn’t. She was far too stubborn. She tightly gripped the box in her hands and closed her locker door. She gripped the box so hard the cheap cardboard repaid her in wrinkles and a large, thumb-sized dent. The box looked so worn. Its cover was dented and soiled with the scent of salt; the bow she so proudly tied together flopped, weighed down from its damp ends, saturated by her tears.

Aelin smuggled the box into her backpack and slid down the wall of lockers to settle on the floor.

-----

She avoided the group the rest of the day, but she often saw Rowan in the distance. During class, Aelin once looked out the window and saw Rowan casually standing a few meters away from her classroom. As if he sensed the instance she noticed his presence, he immediately walked in the opposite direction of her classroom. During Passing period, she would often see Rowan walk in her direction. But when she saw him nearing, she took a detour. She was successful in avoiding the others the whole day, but somehow it was as if Rowan was everywhere.

At break, she noticed that when she walked to her spot, Rowan was already there, so she walked away quickly. But when she went to another room, it was like he appeared out of nowhere. Today, to her dismay, it seemed that he was just always within her vicinity.

After school, she made up her mind. This would be the last time she would interact with any of them. This would serve as her final good bye, and a big “fuck you” to Rowan’s asshole rejections.

She walked outside of the school to the spot they usually meet up at to walk home together. As Aelin neared, she scowled at a line that had seemed to form. But a line for what? Her eyes traced the direction of the line to its head. Who would have thought. A line to present chocolates to Rowan Whitethorn. It seemed as though many people had acquired the same idea as she had. But now, the energy in the crowd that had gathered felt even more intense than that of this morning.

The line consisted of both girls and guys. They lined up one after another. A tall, athletic guy Aelin knew as Jasen presented a large box of Japanese candy and asserted, “Hey Rowan! The basketball team all pitched in to buy this for you. We really appreciate you for helping us in our championship game.” Rowan wasn’t officially on the team, but secretly subbed in the last quarter, he had ended up scoring the winning basket. “Hopefully we can play again sometime,” Jasen smiled.

Rowan replied lamely, “... I hate mushroom-shaped, matcha flavored konpeito.”

The group of guys that encouraged their friend to approach Rowan argued amongst themselves. “Why did you give him those? Did he seem like a mushroom-shaped, matcha-flavor konpeito type of guy to you?!”

A girl with brunette curls and sun-kissed skin came forward, “Rowan, I’ve always wanted to thank you for helping me last year. It really meant a lot to me, and I don’t want anything in return, but it would make me really happy if you could accept these…?”

Rowan inspected the chocolates and flowers she held out to him and examined the brunette’s face. The crowd was silent, eagerly waiting for his response. Will he accept them? He would actually be an asshole if he didnt, thought Aelin.

“Sorry, I don’t think I remember helping you, so I can’t accept these.”

The girl insisted, “It’s Lyria. You helped deliver flowers to the hospital with me to my parents last year.”

“Oh, well, Lyria, I’m sorry, but it’s just that I actually don’t remember you… so,” Rowan shifted uneasily.

“Buzzard,” Aelin cursed at Rowan’s bad memory. He was actually the worst.

The line increasingly reduced as he rejected person after person. No matter the reason, no matter how intensely they felt about him, Rowan rejected them. But also after each rejection, came an energy of rejuvenation as the next person somehow felt even more fired up to present their gift. The courage was astounding.

“Sorry-”

“Sorry-”

“Sorry-”

“Sorry-”

“Sorry, I-”

After what seemed like hours, the mile-long line had dwindled to nothing. Rowan had accepted absolutely no one’s gifts. But the crowd remained, eager to see who would bravely face him next. This event had in some way transitioned into a spirited competition of who could possibly get Rowan Whitethorn to accept their gift. This competition would forever be embedded in the yearbooks. The energy was wild. It was legendary. No one so far had accomplished this feat. Aelin could tell people had lost any sense of unease. No matter one’s status or wealth, everyone had been rejected just because. And by the time the line had dwindled down to twenty, not one had felt shame in approaching him, no less in offering him their gifts in fear of rejection.

Aelin looked around. It seemed that there was no one else who wanted to approach him. They were all defeated. They only waited for the next person to advance toward him. She sucked in her feelings and walked down towards him in an air of pridefulness. No matter, she was just going to do what she had to do and go about her life.

Although the path towards him was only a few feet, it seemed like she had walked for an endless number of miles. She had turned her attention towards the ground as she walked, so, so hesitant to take the next step. But her mind fought to keep her walking towards him. She needed to do this for him. She needed to do this for herself. It was like everything was muted again. The chatter surrounding them faded to a dull white noise and as she looked up towards his face-- as he commenced to close the distance from where he stood all those dozens of times students tried to propose to him. His pine green eyes met her turquoise blue. She couldn’t deny the sudden intensity in them, compared to the obvious disinterest that he had shown to others time and time beforehand. His mouth firm, but in awe as if struck by her presence. There it was, his usual, idiotic Buzzard face.

Now, they stood only a few inches apart. She glowered at him and he bored his eyes back into hers. They were so close Aelin could smell his scent of pine and snow. She didn’t know what to make of his reaction, because they had only just stared at each other, as if the first person to speak would shatter the electric energy that peaked in the atmosphere, as if the other person would explode into pieces just from their speech alone. Aelin was addicted to this energy whenever she was with him. When they were walking home together, when they hung out at each other’s houses, or when they had bought each other ice cream and devoured them on the flowery grass at the park. No, Aelin was mistaken. She could never say goodbye to Rowan. She could only ever welcome him back into her life, welcome back an even stronger relationship than they had initially formed.

But, when she finally chose to speak first, “Rowan, I-”

At the same time, Rowan uttered, “Fireheart, I’ve-”

Aelin’s cheeks noticeably burned. The realization of what she was doing finally had caught up to her. Her face burned even hotter as if she was branded by the 350°F heat of a thousand ovens baking chocolate chip cookies. As she looked at Rowan’s face, she couldn’t help but feel relieved at his instant blush as well. “You go first,” Aelin said.

At Aelin’s command, Rowan proceeded, “I’ve been waiting for you. Since this morning, I just-”

But Aelin was too impatient. She had steeled her mind from any sort of rejection. She primed herself and wanted to get it over with, so she took up the heart-shaped box she held in her hands and cut him off, “No!”

Rowan immediately stopped himself and looked at her, bewildered.

This was the first time Aelin would let herself acknowledge her feelings. At this realization, she had wanted to let him know. She wanted him to know her feelings. As she replayed her interactions with him for the past five months she’s known him in her mind throughout her classes today, she knew that she had to use today to finally get her feelings out. She would hurt afterwards, but at least he would know, because every little thought of hers had been crashing down on her lately. He was on her mind everyday. She would hurt but Aelin knew she had the ability to slowly put herself back together again.

And so, Aelin took her stance.

She exhaled harshly,

And aggressively shoved the box against his broad chest.

The crowd around them was stunned at this sudden development.

“When I first came to Greenbriar, I never expected to form close ties with anyone. But it was you who had worn down the iron walls I had so carefully crafted up, because of your stupid, stupid idiocy, and I,” Aelin paused, “And today,”  She took a deep breath, “Today I really wanted to get rid of you and Fenrys and Lysandra and Aedion from my stupid life because I-- I felt hurt.” Aelin closed her eyes to collect herself.

“Fireheart, I can-”

“No, I need to say this… Just, let me get this out… please.” Aelin regained her composure and started again, “When I thought about cutting ties with you guys, I recounted all of the memories we made together in these five months alone. I have never felt so happy in my life before I came here, and I realized it was because of everyone. And then I remembered those times you picked me up in the middle of the night and took me to this beautiful, beautiful spot to admire the stars. I recounted how I knew my heart began to mend so slowly; it was so slow, but it was healing, and I knew it was only because I was with you. So I realized I could never say goodbye. Not ever. ”

“So,” She picked a crease on Rowan’s shirt to focus on, looked up into his eyes, which crinkled  back immediately in response, and shouted at him, “Rowan, I like you! Accept my chocolates!”

Rowan peered down at her. A visible blush painted his cheeks and the corner of his lips quirked upwards into a small smile. Rowan closed his large hands around Aelin’s small ones, gently taking up the marred heart-shaped box from her hands, and pulled Aelin into a tight embrace. He enclosed her within his arms and held her tight, as if he feared she would fly away from him. In response, Aelin instinctively leaned into the crook of his shoulder. Rowan bent down to bury himself within her hair. They fit together perfectly. He couldn’t get enough of her, and she, him.

Rowan pulled back from her hair to face Aelin, grinning, “Fireheart, of course I’ll accept your chocolates.” Without letting Aelin out of his embrace, Rowan tugged on the ribbon of the box and popped one of the chocolates in his mouth. “Mm, as expected from my Fireheart. They don’t taste like chocolates at all.”

Aelin glared back up at him as Rowan licked some of the remnants from his finger and continued, “But, Miss Chocolate Connoisseur, this is truly unacceptable.”

“What now?” Aelin sunk in deeper into his embrace.

Rowan reached into his pocket, “You’re simply not qualified to be the one giving out chocolates. It’s demeaning of you.” He pulls out a key and slips it into Aelin’s palm.

Aelin’s brows furrowed in confusion and inspected the key that Rowan placed in her hand, “Are you trying to ask me to move in with you or something? I think that’s a bit fast, don’t you think? You didn’t even kiss me yet.”

Rowan’s cheeks burned further, “It’s the key to the Godiva store in downtown. You can enter the store and take whatever you want, whenever.”

“Even when it’s closed?”

“Even when it’s closed. And on that note, I’m sorry for how you felt today… I know I hurt you, I was supposed to give you this key this morning,” Rowan looked away and whispered, “Yesterday, I... threatened the whole student body to not gift anything to you because,” Rowan spoke even more softly, so that only Aelin could hear, “Fireheart, you’re mine to spoil. I want you to know that I love you. Out of every single person in this school, out of every single person on this earth, and perhaps even the universe, you’re the only person I would accept chocolates from. The only person I’ll concede to, fall for, and let my heart be stolen from.”

Aelin looked at him and traced the swirls of his tattoo with her eyes, like she had done a thousand times already whenever they were together. She felt her heart swell. It was healed. Her heart had fully healed. Its tiny cracks mended and now the weight of her heart that initially only served to weigh her down made her feel so so light, she was afraid she would accidentally soar into the sky. So, Aelin stood on her tiptoes, reached up to grab at Rowan’s hair to pull him down at her level and muttered, “Territorial bastard,” before crashing her lips onto his to feel the electricity between them once more.

[afipiafelis]

Original Work - Steam Punk Maid X Master Reader Insert Story - World Building

Reality or Fantasy?

Fantasy "I-can't-believe-it's-not-Europe" world.

Technology Level?

1920s-1930s level

Vibe?

Steam Punk: Clean steam energy has replaced coal. This energy is harvested from minerals obtained through mining. However, like our real would nuclear energy, the process to make and dispose of the minerals does create pollution. Not unlike our imperfect real world, most of this is exported to poor countries.

Peace or War?

Post-war: To obtain access to the minerals needed to run her steam factories, the ruthless queen of your homeland fought a vicious war against another nation. She won, but the costs were high.

The male population between 18-35 was devastated by the war. Amputees and disabled veterans are exceedingly common. Mental health problems (shell shock) are rampant.

What the what?! Why is this monster in power if she's a colonizing tyrant?!

First off, she wasn't queen until her husband and his entire family "mysteriously died all in one night". That should give you an idea of how this crazy train's enemies fare.

The queen is forcing the country to update from coal energy to clean steam by hook or by crook. By importing minerals to power her factories, she has exported pollution. This raises the quality of life for her subjects.

By implementing social programs (the dole and veteran's medical care) and providing jobs with modern work hours (8-10 hour shifts with 4 days off every 2 weeks), she has become the working person's hero.

Nobles strongly dislike her because the rise of the middle class means they "can't find good help" (read: servants who they can treat like slaves).

TLDR: Cause she bribes people into complacency and murders her enemies.

Gender Roles?

For a long time, men were expected to be the family breadwinners and women managed the home. Inheritance is passed to sons but can pass to married daughters if there are no sons. Widows may retain the property. Unmarried women cannot inherit.

Recent events have called all these practices into question.

With the widow queen's questionable (read:"Oh dear? My husband's whole family is dead? How unexpected!") rise to power and the men off at war, women took over factory work. While the labor is intensive and demanding, it pays infinitely better than the "service" (servant) work. Most working-class girls see her as a role model despite her tyrant behavior.

Religion?

The temples are run by Clerics. Worship services occur on a weekly basis with prayer before meals and changes from day tonight.

There are numerous gods (The Ones Above) and their ethereal disciples (The Guardians). There is only one force of evil (The One Below) and its minions (The Dark Ones).

The gods can have gender (though not all do - some are genderless). The One Below is genderless.

Most of the country is religious, but piety is often a guise for poor behavior (especially amongst the nobles). Working-class people are more likely to actually believe and follow temple teachings as it gives them hope of a better life. The rich have no such motivation.

The main male character is sacrilegious at best.

Sexuality?

While the main pairing is a female x male, heterosexuality is not the only standard. Homosexuality, bisexuality, pansexuality, asexuality etc are all considered to be equally acceptable. Heterosexuality and asexuality are the most common in your country.

The country the story takes place practices monogamy due to religious teachings. Sex outside of marriage is considered "improper" in polite society but times are changing slowly. Asexuality is considered to be a less sinful way of living and looked upon with favor by many.

Given the post-war losses, the queen is pushing marriage or nonmarried coupling because she needs to repopulate her country. She is heavily campaigning that child-free living is considered "slothful". Your loyal subjects should be baby-booming. Whether they are yours biologically or yours by adoption: get yourself some kiddos.

Older noble families still consider pregnancy outside of wedlock shameful and, unfortunately, they still control the social and political circles. However, this is not due to some religious mandate. This is because children out of wedlock could call into question who is to inherit. We must know where the money goes.

Polygamy is considered by clerics of your country view as sinful. Why? Because only The Ones Above are righteous enough to "do it right". (If you're thinking they are rather hypocritical - yes, that would be the point.)

The Holy Nation of [name pending] (a separate country) views drinking, sex outside of marriage, any nonheterosexual cisgendered couples as sinful and worthy of punishment. They don't drink. They don't have fun. They think they are better than everyone. (Read: Nobody likes them.)

Other countries (Franxxland) practice open relationships. Your wife/husband and side lovers can be the best of friends and not being married is common. Polygamy is accepted widely. However, this openness comes with a price. Pansexuals and bisexuals suffer discrimination if they want a monogamous relationship (Read: "If you like all genders you must like everyone with a pulse, right?"). Asexuals are treated as aberrant. [Please note: the author thinks both of these views are a load of crap].

[alovesthis]

All Things Must Pass - Dean Winchester CHAPTER ONE

Dean Winchester x Female!Reader Fic 

Fic Summary: Reader, her sister Stevie and the Winchesters reunite after not seeing each other in a few years. Ever since Dean told her to leave him and his issues behind, reuniting wasn’t what you expected it would be like. Hunting, past feelings, memories and a life threatening situation that was placed upon Dean Winchester creates tension between you two and everything else. 

Warnings: None? Angst, Flashback

Word Count: 5.3k

CHAPTER ONE

Hunting was difficult, and sometimes exhilarating even. It was everything and it was a life you were born into. There was no running from it, at least that’s what you were taught; no leaving it all behind without a guilt of innocent lives in danger you know are always at risk. This was the life of you, your sister and the Winchesters. It was the life of your family in the past. The four of you shared similar stories and childhoods and even knew each other since you were all kids considering everyone's parents were hunters. 

It was rare though, you and Stevie seeing the Winchester brothers. Growing up through the years and raising your sister after the death of your parents was rough, but bumping into the boys and John was rare. When John wasn’t around, the four of you had spent time hanging out, or working on a case or two together. But when you all did meet up, it was like time hadn't passed. The two of you were the oldest of your siblings so you always looked out for Sam the same way Dean looked out for Stevie. But the way you both watch each other's backs, the shared intense gazes...there was always something there that the two of you could never even begin to explain. 

Flirting was a thing that always happened back and forth between Dean and you. It started when you were kids, teenagers, and it never stopped. At first it was just cute and a way to distract each other from the horrors of hunting but then as you got older there was some tension that both Sam and Stevie so obviously saw. 

There was jealousy among both sides, as Dean would see other girls and you would be seeing other guys. But neither of you said anything, because you were just kids trying to find some type of normalcy in an unconventional life you shared. But that’s also when the very rare hookups began that started out platonic but turned into something more as both your feelings lingered between each other. It wasn't spoken but it was known that Dean felt something more and so did you. 

And those feelings you two felt was nothing you could ever imagine in a life like this. Feelings like this could never be pursued in a hunters life, as Dean would think. You often wondered why couldn't they at least give it a try?

But losing people by the hands of a vampire, rougarou or a damn demon did make it worse to feel love for someone. It was bad enough the two of you had a younger sibling to protect, so there was never any mention of trying, not a word came out of you to let Dean know you wanted something, wanted him. 

You hadn’t seen them in a while, especially Sam. He left them to join college and Dean had stuck to hunting with his father, even after he went missing. When John was missing, Dean called you and Stevie to help him and Sam search for a while, but eventually he pushed you away to keep you and your sister safe once things got more dangerous. You protested his demands then obliged but never stopped helping or looking for their dad. It was the least you could do since John helped you and your sister when your parents died all those years ago. 

And ever since that night Dean told you to leave, you hadn't seen them again. But tonight you would have no idea you'd be encountering the Winchesters again. Without any idea of the weight they were about to lay on you.  But here you are in Upstate New York, just shy of seven at night, getting ready to solve a case after you and your sister finished a hunt with werewolves a few days ago, just states away. 

The diner is blaring, filled with Christmas music playing, families, couples and teens talking over it. It’s stuffy from the heat blasting from the vents and crowded diner. The holiday season was upon everyone, the overbearing christmas decorations and the big glowing multicolor string lights hung throughout the walls of the diner. A few stray strings of tinsel lay on the checkered floor. Sam and Dean sit in a booth, the Christmas lights shining on them as they discuss a case they've been seeing through.

Dean checks out one of the waitresses that walk by him as he smirks to himself as Sam coughs trying to get his attention. He just turns his head at his brother and shrugs laughing before he takes a sip of beer.

“Back to the case, yeah?” Sam smiles as he types away on his laptop after handing over a file to his brother. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Dean takes the file with aggressive force, exhausted from previous cases. “Let’s just hope this one doesn’t attract a certain woman psycho.”

“Bela?”

“That bitch is all types of nuts.” 

“Yeah well,” Sam shrugs, “we’ve got some important things to focus on Dean. Like vampires?”

“So, let me guess. The usual? Dead bodies poppin’ up at night all around town, drained of their blood and teeth marks on their necks?” 

Sam looks at him dumbfounded, “Sorta. Except some victims end up staying alive in a hospital.”

“There’s always a catch.” Dean gulps down some beer and rolls his eyes.

“Always.” 

You and Stevie walk side by side make your way to the diner counter without any idea you'd be seeing anyone you would know — even the Winchester boys. New York was a place you loved, because it reminded you how big the world is, and whenever you felt small growing up in a small town, the city made you feel like you could take on anything, be it monsters, ghosts or even your own issues. 

The last time you saw them was a few years back at Bobby's when you needed his and the boys help in finding your sister after a hunt went wrong. Thankfully they were there for you and like always, everyone worked well with each other.

Stevie shrugs off her faded large black jean jacket and drapes it over the back of the seat as she grabs two places at the counter. Your hands are still in your leather jacket pockets, still cold from the rainy and freezing atmosphere of Upstate.  

"Those damn werewolves the other night...god it really tired me out." Your sister says sighing once she sits down on the cushioned seat. 

"Yeah well we got the job done, that's how we do. On to the next." You smile smugly, turning your head to speak to a waitress. "Can we get two beers over here? Thanks."

"And two plates of fries!" Your sister adds.

Shifting around to lean your back against the counter, you peer out to the people sighing in annoyance. It was either too many people for your liking or you were sick being in these diners and even the road bars and being hit on way too much by men of all ages. It was rare to actually take a night off and get one of the men or women back into your motel for the night as Stevie hung around somewhere else.

But when you did get that night off, it was a great way to wind back and forget about the real shit that no one else but hunters can imagine.

Just as you were about to finish scanning the room you feel your sister nudge you. Turning back around to the counter you see your beer waiting nice and cold, water slipping down the bottle just waiting to be drunk. Drinking together was celebratory for your sister and you, and the only time you drank was whenever you beat the monsters with her. Other than that, you'd never drink.

“So,” Stevie begins, “Are we here for this vampire hunt or another one of your breaks?”

After gulping down a drastic amount of beer, you place it down on the counter then rest your elbows on the counter, as you stay leaning against it. 

“If I’m lucky, maybe both.” You say sarcastically, raising your eyebrows up and down before rolling your eyes. “Nah, whenever we finish this hunt I thought you might like to do some tourist bullshit in the city. We deserve some bonding time that doesn’t involve hunting.”

Stevie gasps dramatically, “No motel hookups for you? That’s surprising.” 

You laugh and hit her arm with the back of your arm. 

“I don’t even need to doubt that you’re my sister. Anyways, yes we deserve an actual break. One that doesn’t include drinking to get drunk or waking up with a person you don’t even know.” 

Stevie smiles and raises her beer bottle to you. 

“To a well deserved break.” 

You roll your eyes and grab your beer once you turn around, “To a well deserved break.” 

Just across the diner sitting in a booth, Dean shifts in his seat once he eyes the back of you and your sister from afar, standing at the counter with your backs turned. The leather jacket clings to your body just like the light blue jeans you wear. He bites his bottom lip almost as if he was in agony as his eyes were glossing from the top of your head to your back and down to your ass as he checked you out.

He doesn’t know it was either of you, but all he sees are two hot women from behind and he slammed his beer down in smiles.

“Dude.” Sam looks up at his brother once he stands up from the booth.

“Sam, we are in freaking New York. The chicks out here know what they want.”

He fixes his jacket, popping up his collar and takes a step forward. 

“We’re on a hunt! Besides, don’t be a creep, there’s families here.”

“Never stopped me before.” He slaps Sam on the shoulder. “There’s two of them and two of us. Let’s get some, Sammy!” 

Stevie and you are drinking beers and discussing some book the two of you finally finished reading -- this was your favorite thing you and your sister shared, other than hunting, books were a good way to escape your harsh reality as a hunter. 

“I don’t understand why she had to end up with him.” Stevie rolls her eyes. “I get the time period of it all, but surely she could’ve fucking been the one to end that gender role of marrying an asshole of a rich guy and be her own person? She was smart!”

“I don’t think that’s what it was about.” You say, tilting your head and looking around as you think about the book. 

“Well, she didn’t have to marry him!”

“Well, she did.” You pat Stevie on her back in sarcastic comfort. 

“It’s called Pride and Prejudice! How did that end up having a happy ending?” Stevie practically yells as she complains about Jane Austen’s book. 

“Alright there, calm down.” You laugh. “I’m sure we can find a new book where the main girl doesn’t fall for a man and stays on her own.”

“Or better yet, falls in love with a woman. Could it kill these writers to have some or decent representation?” 

“You’re not wrong there.”

“When am I ever wrong?” Stevie pridefully says, as she stuffs her face with french fries. 

Before the conversation went further, you hear heavy footsteps coming from behind you. You were beginning to hope it wasn't anyone trying to hit on you or your sister and that it was just someone trying to order food or their check. 

"So uh, what's the deal? You two best friends, sisters?" A gruff voice asks, attempting to flirt as he lets out a laugh. "My brother and I have a booth if you wanna join us, or you know a motel room eventually."

"Dude." You hear another voice say. "Seriously?"

"Uh- not together. No, nope that is so not what I meant."

You furrow your brows and let out a chuckle, turning around coming in contact with those wide greens eyes you know. The guy's cocky smile fades and his mouth goes ajar.

"Well shit, Sam and Dean." You raise your brows as your heart starts to pound just a tiny bit faster than normal. It's Dean. “Hi boys.”

"Hitting on women in a diner? Have you finally hit a low, Dean?" Stevie jabs at him, smiling and looking at Sam. "Has he?"

Her head tilts to Sam and they both laugh as they embrace each other in their arms for a warm, welcoming hug while laughing.

Dean is still stuck frozen once he has the realization it's you. Still in shock at the fact that he had embarrassingly flirted with the person he hadn’t seen in two years, someone he was a complete jerk to. Your eyes don't leave him and you both weren't so sure how to greet each other since the last time you saw him.

"Dean, I know you want to protect me but you forget I do the same thing you do. How can you be so stubborn?"

"Because I can't lose you and it's best that you go. This yellow eyed demon is no joke," he says your name and pleads. "If I can make sure you go, I can make sure that you and your sister are safe."

"But we're all family." You argue. "And family stays together, fights together."

"Family doesn't let family die."

"Which is why we won't leave you and Sam to do this on your own." You make a point but Dean shakes his head. "So that's that then? Won't let me help find your dad, the one who saved me and my sister's life? I owe it to him to help."

"He wouldn't want you to help."

"You don't know that."

"Of course I do! If my dad doesn't even want us looking why would he want you to risk your life?"

"Don't you see it Dean? You just said it yourself, don't be a hypocrite and don't you dare push me away. We've been through too much together, let me help. I love you, okay? I love Sam and I'd do anything for you guys."

"We can't keep doing what we're doing. I don't want to see you dead for me or for my dad." 

Dean looks away as tears form in his eyes as he tries to ignore the three words you told him. 

He rubs his hand over his face and through his short dirty blonde hair.

"I don't want to hurt you, but I'm doing this to keep you safe."

"But you are hurting me, Dean. My heart -- listen, please don't push me out. I'm a goddamn hunter this is what we do, it's just another case."

"It's not just another case. It’s better you're hurt and far away from me than dead because of me."

You look away from his eyes once the memory of your last encounter with him pops in your head. A smile forms on your face as your sister leaves Sam's embrace and nudges Dean in his arm to hug her. Dean looks away, pulls your sister in and smiles.

You roll your eyes at Sam's huge smile then engulf him in the biggest bear hug ever. You take a step back to lean against the bar again not wanting to embrace the guy who hurt you— the guy who was a hypocritical coward that night, even though you wanted nothing more to be in those arms again.

"It's good to see you. What's going on?" Sam says, pulling away and waiting for your sister and you to explain.

"How long has it been?" Dean clears his throat to pull himself together as you feel his eyes on you, but you're not sure how long you can stand it.

"Been too long." You smile sadly at him. "We just finished up a case back in California, bunch of werewolves."

"And you're here in Albany now, why so far?" Sam asks.

"Besides wanting to see the city again, I hear there's some vamp activity around town, so we figured to take a quick beer break and then dive right into research." Stevie explains.

"Well look at that." Dean smiles at Sam before glancing down at you and your sister. "We're already on it."

You furrow your brows, "aren't you gonna let us join you boys? For old times sake?"

You're not sure why you said it, because seeing Dean was something you weren't so sure you wanted. Of course you missed him, of course you wanted him back in your life...but knowing Dean, he'd be too stubborn to let that happen. But your thoughts were shaken by Dean accepting the offer.

"Hell yeah, let's do this and get this son of a bitch."

"There could be more than just one, Dean." Sam says, as Stevie and you laugh.

"Then...let's get these sons of bitches."

"Sam, I have so much shit to tell you." Stevie grabs Sam's arm and pulls him away towards the booth as she pats Dean on the shoulder when she walks by him. "Let's let them catch up."

You catch on to what your younger sister is doing, acting like she's in her teens again and playing matchmaker. You scoff as the two of them head back to the booth and geek out over previous cases they wished they could've done together. See those two were like the closest friends you'd ever seen, and despite Dean practically kicking you out and pushing you away, Sam and Stevie kept in touch.

"Those two," Dean sighs as he tries not to be awkward. "When are they gonna get together, am I right?"

Taking a step back to lean on the counter of the bar again, your brows furrow and you cringe at the thought.

"What? I'm serious."

"Dean, my sister is not into Sam."

"Oh come on, look at how she looks at him."

The two of you glance over at the booth to see them smiling brightly at each other, her eyes wide as she seems to be telling him a story. You scoff and lift the beer up to your mouth and scoff. Dean leans next to you, staring with a questionable look.

"Gosh, you are so damn oblivious. You think you'd know someone practically your entire life and they don't know..."

He looks at you trying to understand, his eyebrows raised while his mouth goes slightly agape.

"My god Dean, she's into women!"

You stare at Dean's face as he's trying to figure it out, then frowns while nodding his head while with a small smile.

"Makes sense."

"Oh does it now?" You laugh. "And how exactly does that make sense?"

"I'm just saying, I mean there was that one time she got mad at me for checking out a college chick. She knocked me in the face, remember? I thought it was because I was supposed to be focusing on the case, but I guess not. Maybe she was jealous-”

"My god."

The conversation ends in laughter, awkwardly of course, as you both stand there at the counter drinking and letting your siblings catch up. You are beginning to feel overwhelmed by his presence and you try and take a few steps forward before he catches onto your wrist with urgency.

"Listen," Dean starts as he says your name. "The last time we spoke-"

"We don't need to talk about it." You get out of his soft grasp , down your beer then slam it on the counter.

"But-"

You smile bitterly, "It's all good! Once this case is over you don't gotta ever see me again like we discussed."

And with that, you walk towards the booth where your sister and Sam hang out eager to get the night and case over with.

Most of the night in the diner goes smoothly as you all get caught up with each other's lives and the cases you've been on since the last time you saw each other.

"How's uh, life been going?" Dean raises his brows in your direction as he stands up and sits in your side of the booth, after you sit back down from letting your sister out of the booth. Sam and her go to grab more beer for the four of you, leaving Dean and you alone yet again.

"Like always it's been...well you know how it is." You roll your eyes. "Been chasing cases and never really stopping."

"Looks like you were stopping tonight."

"Having a drink before another case? I don't think so. The last time I stopped hunting it wasn't so fun."

"Why's that? Finished all the beer in the town you were in?"

"Very funny Dean."

He sits back in the seat and rests his arm on top of the booth which are a few inches away from your shoulders. You shift in your seat, feeling uneasy because of the awkwardness. That, or because of the fluttering butterflies you got when he was near you. 

"Hey, I'm just saying. Our breaks don't get to be fun, or even relaxing. Lucky we get a few hours of sleep at most, or something else." He wiggles his brows. "There wasn't anything fun to do besides hunting?"

"After the last time we saw each other...you know. Us hunters don't get breaks, remember? I kept working case after case, drinking even though I didn't like it I even went back to motels with different people I would never even talk to again."

Dean furrows her brows in question, "Different people?"

"I tell you all that and that's what you take from it? Dumbass."

"Sorry, I just didn't-"

"Know. That's alright, I never told anyone. I didn't think it made a difference from who I am, you know? Anyways, besides being bisexual Dean, I was a wreck. My sister really helped me but I don't think I'm over things."

He leans forward and reaches his hand out for you.

"Listen-”

"Dean, I'm serious when I say we don't need to talk about what happened. It's over with and after this case I was-"

"Look, my dad died." Dean begins to explain but you cut him off again.

"I heard," your head drops down and away from his gaze, but your hand finds him on the table. "I'm sorry I didn't call. I took it serious when you told me to stay away."

"It's alright, I guess I kind of deserve that." He shrugs. "But I need you to listen to me when I say the things I said to you then.. you didn't deserve me yelling in your face and saying harsh shit. I just wanted to keep you and your sister safe, away from that demon."

You raise your head and turn back to look at him in slight disbelief.

"I've handled a demon or two before Dean."

"Not this one, this one had yellow eyes and was too powerful and dangerous. I couldn't get you mixed up with that and I couldn't put you at risk."

"But why Dean? I really don't understand why you wanted to push me away?"

You were too scared to admit to yourself that maybe it was because he really did love you. Although it was unsaid, you both knew the feelings you held for each other were real and they were there. But to say it out loud? That was something else.

He stutters but words don't come out.

"Forget it." You say, as you see Sam and your sister walking back to the booth.

"I do want to fix things." Dean quickly says before his brother and your sister come back to join you guys.

Your eyes stay fixed on him as he drinks away the beer and plays around with the new plate of fries you know Dean and your sister wanted. The conversation gets away from the both of you, and instead Sam and your sister spend the most time talking and occasionally poking fun at Dean and his moments from the past.

The four of you leave the diner and make it back to a motel not so far from where it is. You drive the truck you've had for a few months with your sister in the passenger seat, following the impala to the motel.

"So, did it feel awkward?"

"What?" You ask your sister glancing from her then to the road.

"Seeing Dean again." She shrugs. "I mean the last time we saw them, he basically screamed and kicked your ass out on the curb."

"Our asses." You say. "That was what, two years ago? It didn't... feel awkward... it just felt sad. I'm sure you felt the same."

"Yes, but that's different. I'm not sad like how you are because I'm not the one who's in love with one of them."

"I'm not in love with Dean." You sigh in annoyance, even though you know she's right and made a good point but you wouldn't ever admit it.

“I never said Dean.” 

You scold at Stevie and grip the steering wheel tightly,  “My statement still stands.” 

"Sure." She mutters.

You pull up next to the impala in a parking space and roll your eyes as you grab your bag and make way to get a room for your sister and you. As you all get settled down in your rooms, you meet back in the Winchester's room and pile on the books and research. All in unsettling silence or an occasional info dump from Sam or Stevie, you and Dean would steal glances at each other. After an hour or so of research your sister and you took a vending machine break and let the boys read this time (the last time you worked on a real case with them, you were stuck with the pile of books so it was only right).

A bit later you came back into the motel and the atmosphere between the brothers were off as Dean looked agitated and a bit exhausted. Without figuring out what was happening like you used to do, you let things go and decided that you and Sam would leave and pick up food for everyone, leaving your sister with Dean to research more through books and the laptop.

Sam decided he wanted to drive, so he took the keys to the Impala and Dean didn't even protest against it. Once the two of you arrive back at the twenty-four hour diner, Sam orders inside a bunch of mixed foods; breakfast stuff and coffees for everyone just in case you all wouldn't get a chance to eat breakfast in a few hours. The two of you wait outside for the food, holding paper cups of coffee as you stand by the impala.

"What's up with Dean, Sam?" You lean on the impala as Sam and you wait for the food you're picking up for everyone. "Eager to have us join this case and work together? What's next, singing kumbaya in a bar or around a damn campfire?"

Sam looks down on the ground for a moment as if he's hesitating, thinking of a way to tell you without being the one to break your heart.

"You know how Dean is...protective." Sam says as you nod your head.

"Oh I know," your eyes go wide, "which is why he doesn't seem like his one hundred percent self tonight."

Sam stays silent for a few minutes, as you were staring up at him painterly waiting for him to answer.

"Well?" You plead. 

"His time..." Sam is hesitant, unsure if he should be telling you his brother's truth. "His time is running up and he did it for me."

"Time is running up? What the fuck does that mean?"

"He made a deal with a demon."

"He made a deal with a goddamn demon?" Your pulse begins to quicken as your face scrunches as panic rises in your throat. 

"He's got a year to live and if he tries to stop it he'll die right then and there."

"A year?" Your voice trembles as your words barely make it out your mouth. Backing away from Sam you hear him try to console you but your hand goes up and he stops walking.

"What a way to reunite.” You close your eyes and shake your head. “Fuck.” 

Your mind is racing with thoughts and your heart begins to break, knowing that Dean and you might never get a chance ever.

"Wait, is that why he let us join this case?"

Sam nods with empathy, "Probably. I think this is probably a way to make amends with you, make things right before he you know...dies."

"Fucking dick." You scoff. "So he just thinks just because he's gonna die that I'll forgive him? Why is he so selfish?"

"Look, he took a deal with a crossroads demon. My life, for his. I'm upset, angry too but you know how Dean is."

"Yeah he's a dumbass." You sit back onto the impala and bite your lip to stop yourself from crying.

Sam scoffs, "yeah, he is. He did it for me but I just can't help but feel like I need to save his life now."

"Can we?" You ask him quickly. "Is there anything I can do to help, to help save him before his time is up?"

"We could hunt the demon down. But look, I know Dean wouldn't want me anywhere near this, and if he finds out that you know, things will be different."

"As if it isn't already."

"I know it hurts and I know all about what happened, trust me I've tried talking to him about it. I know he's only got a year but if he wants to be at peace with the people in his life the least you can do is hear him out. I'm serious when I say give him-"

"I'll listen, but I want to talk to him." You stand up and make your way to the passenger side and open the car door, resting on top as you wait for Sam.

"About it all, everything."

"Yeah, okay. But what about the case?"

"We'll work in teams. Watch out for my sister, she'll watch out for you. Dean and I will go together and I'll talk to him then."

You sit down in the car and slam the door, slightly cursing to yourself that it might've been too hard. But then you remember Dean isn't driving — he won't know. Sam gets in the car and starts her up.

"He'll try and talk you out of it all. Dean...he's pretty adamant about wanting to be saved. If he.. if he even goes near trying to get out of the deal, he'll die. We all know how he is, with or without this deal he's protective and never wants people he cares about to get in danger because of him. And I agree with that sometimes.”

You stay quiet. 

“Look, you're family and I can't let you and your sister just let everything go and help us."

You furrow your brows at him almost as if you're about to scold him, but also because you're starting to feel worried.

He says your name, “just because I'm not the one you love doesn't mean I won't be as protective as him. Talk to him if you want, just know his mind is pretty much set on this deal."

You look down in your lap and play with your fingers as you anxiously think about Dean's deal and wanting to talk to him. After Sam explains that he's pretty straight on the deal, it makes you nervous to tell him you know. You nod your head then turn to look out the window as he begins to drive back to the motel. The more you began to think, the more worried you were on how you were going to focus on this case and even muster up the courage to confront Dean about the past, his deal and the things unresolved between the two of you.

--

TAGLISt: (if you wanan be added just let me know and I’ll add you to future chapters!!!)

@akshi8278 @deanswaywardgirl @canonboobs @vikkiwalker

[recurring-polynya]

Request: RenRuki; Mad Scientist!Renji shocks Frankenstein Monster!Rukia with electricity to test the endurance of Mikasa's heart

I am not quite sure who you mean by Mikasa-- I am guessing either Masaki or Hisana? I really enjoy making Renji into Byakuya’s beleaguered minion in any universe, and I was extremely charmed by the idea of the latter, so that’s what I went with. I supposed this is a little less “Mad Scientist” and a little more Ticked-Off Postdoc, but a crumbling castle on a moonswept cliff? In this economy??

CW: Some detailed discussion of building a monster out of body parts. It’s not intended to be scary or gross, but just wanted to be on the safe side.

Read on ao3 or ff.net

🧪   🧠   ⚡

I should have finished my dissertation, Abarai Renji thought to himself, irritably rubbing at the nicotine patch under the collar of his shirt.

Education-in-perpetuum was a rich kid’s game, though, and when he’d had to choose between a paying entry-level gig at Kuchiki Biotech or a continued monk-like existence grading freshman papers and scrubbing out the autoclave, he’d followed the money. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time, working in industry. Eating food that didn’t come with a seasoning packet, living in an apartment that had both heating and air-conditioning, the indescribable luxury of a monthly transit pass. Yeah, it stung a little when Kira and Hinamori sent selfies of themselves at that conference in Berlin, and later, in their stupid graduation get-ups, but after seven years of working his ass off, of being on time every day, of covering his ink and minding his manners, Renji had been noticed by Kuchiki Byakuya himself, the reclusive CEO of the company.

“You were a student of Dr. Aizen Sousuke?” Kuchiki had asked, his cold grey eyes skipping past Renji’s carefully knotted tie and spotless lab coat to linger on his bandana and the cover-up smudges that protruded from beneath it. “The cephalopod neurophysicist?”

“That’s correct.”

“His work on artificial chromatophores was stunning.”

Right. That.

“Er, the camouflage stuff wasn’t my area of interest, but I have a couple of friends in that area if you’re--”

“You studied nervous system regeneration. But you did not graduate.”

Renji had tried not to look surprised, because his supervisor had warned him that Byakuya liked to try and surprise people and then judge them for being surprised. Byakuya had probably just dug up his resume from HR prior to this interview. “That’s right. Well. About the nervous system thing. I did graduate, just, y’know, ABD. That’s not even true, I wrote about half a dissertation. Maybe two-thirds.” His mouth snapped shut. Kuchiki Byakuya definitely did not want to hear about his two-thirds of a dissertation.

“I read your article in the Journal of Zoological Neuroscience, the one about using a donor octopus brain to reanimate a dead specimen? I assume you wrote it. You were listed as second author, but it was not rife with Dr. Aizen’s usual bloviations. It was excellent work.”

Renji had failed in his attempts to keep from looking surprised.

“I am starting a special project that could use a man of your expertise. Dr. Shirogane spoke well of your time here, and felt that you were ready to take on the role of primary investigator.” Byakuya looked at his extremely expensive watch, as though he were already getting bored of this meeting. “It is a small project, a one-man project, and I am afraid it will not produce any sort of publishable results. In fact, I will require you to sign a number of non-disclosure agreements, should you accept. But it is a very important project to me, personally.”

Renji could still remember the excitement, the feel of his heart stuttering in his chest. He imagined telling Kira and Hinamori about the personal project he was doing for the wealthiest biotech entrepreneur in Japan. He felt smart. He felt important. He felt like industry was finally paying off for him.

Two days later, he found out that this project involved grave-robbing.

It turned out that Kuchiki was a widower. His wife had been a kind, beautiful angel who had died of complications from cystic fibrosis at the tender age of 34. Despite everything, her heart has been very strong at the time of her death. So Kuchiki kept it, y’know, like a normal person. And then he found one of his employees, a guy with big muscles and no family and a lot of student debt, and asked him to make a new body to put that heart in.

That was three years ago. Since then, Renji had acquired his own sub-basement laboratory and a used pick-up truck. He had a lot of middle-of-the-night meetings with Kuchiki, where he got used to delivering absolutely deranged progress reports in a calm and conversational tone. He’d taken up smoking again, but then he had to quit because Kuchiki didn’t like the smell. He stopped seeing most of his old friends, in favor of his fabulous new friends, like Isane, the nervous assistant mortician at the hospital, and Hisagi, who worked down at the funeral home and drove a hearse like it was a Shelby Cobra. His new best drinking buddy was a guy named Akon, who worked over at Kurosutchi Heavy Industries and was building some sort of cyborg daughter for his creepy boss.

And now he had her.

Maybe she’ll turn out to be better than a dissertation, Renji thought, contemplating the girl-thing floating in an antifreeze bath in his sub-basement lab.

She was small, in part because the original Hisana had been small, but also because regrowing the nervous system had been the hardest part, and the less he had to grow, the better.

At first, he’d put a fair amount of effort into making her look like Hisana, but Byakuya never seemed to give a shit about stuff like that, so Renji started to take a few liberties here and there. An athlete’s limbs (well, more like three different athlete’s limbs) gave her a lean and powerful build, instead of the wispy slenderness of her predecessor. He’d been very picky about the eyes, but his patience had paid off when he scored a stunning pair from Ishida, a bitter med student who had a part time job in the university’s dissection sample acquisition department. They were deep blue, nearly verging on purple, like a starless sky. Renji wasn’t very good at suturing at first, and the big, clunky stitches that held her mismatched parts together were a little jarring. Renji had come to rather like them, though. She wasn’t a perfect, flawless angel. She was a pile of lost potential, cobbled together and given a second chance, and he liked that she wore that openly on her skin. If she didn’t like it, well, he could always offer to take her down to his tattoo place.

The only thing Byakuya had objected to was the brain.

It was a criminal’s brain, or at least that’s what Byakuya said. The brain had belonged to a teen girl who’d been caught shoplifting, and in her attempt to make a break for it, darted into traffic. It was extremely fresh, though. The girl died in the hospital and Isane called him right away. By the time Byakuya even found out about it, Renji already had the brain nestled in among the little baby human-octopus hybrid nervous system he’d been growing, so there was nothing to be done. Renji had assured Byakuya it would be fine, she wasn’t going to remember anything about her old life anyway. He did not mention that he’d done a fair bit of petty theft in his youth, and he’d turned out… well. Never mind.

He’d turned out to be an insane person, actually. A person who flaunted the rules of ethics and nature. He was an actual, real-life, mad scientist (ABD). Well, assuming all this worked.

In the morning, Byakuya was expecting a demonstration. The demonstration. The part where Renji pulled a lever and sent enough voltage surging through that precious little Kuchiki heart to bring Byakuya’s new sister to life.

He’d run and re-run all the individual organ tests. Reviewed his check list three times. Read and re-read all his notes. It was either going to work, or it wasn’t. If it worked, he was a genius, a mastermind. Kuchiki would give him a pat on the back and a big bonus and he was also going to start addressing Renji as Doctor Abarai, dissertation be damned.

If it failed, Renji was going to be lugging his belongings to the curb in a cardboard box.

It was now 2:16am.

If he went home, he’d just stare at the ceiling for four hours, but at least he would be able to shower before he had to face his moment of doom.

You could just do it, he realized. Pull the lever. Pull it right now.

Byakuya would be pissed, of course, he wanted to be there for the Big Shock, but if it worked, he’d be so happy to have a living, breathing, undead sister that he’d probably overlook Renji jumping the gun. If it didn’t work, Renji would have those four hours to troubleshoot.

The more he thought about it, the better the idea sounded. He honestly wasn’t real sure what kind of mental capabilities, if any, his monster girl was going to have. If she woke up spitting and clawing, he was okay with that, but Byakuya might not take it so well. Yeah, it definitely made good sense to give her a boot up now, so there were no surprises in the morning.

Renji stood up, and strode over to the portable generator he’d rigged up over the weekend. His hand hovered over the switch. He was gonna do it.

No.

In a minute.

He walked back over to the cold tank and plopped down in the chair sitting next to it, where he often sat when he had Serious Thinking to do. She floated serenely an inch under the liquid, her pale skin tinted blue, her hair floating in a cloud around her face. The cold was necessary to keep her organs in stasis, and it’s not like she could feel it, but he felt a little bad about it anyway.

“Hey, there,” he said softly. “It’s me. Renji. We’ve been through a lot, you and me. I’m gonna turn you on, in a minute. I’m not sure how it’s gonna go. I’ve been kind of a screw-up my whole life, but you seem pretty perfect, so may we’ll even each other out.” He chewed the inside of his cheek. “Another guy is gonna come by in the morning. He’s rich and powerful and has, like 17 cars. He’s gonna be your brother, and if you can be a convincing enough person, he’s gonna treat you like his sister and you’ll be set for life. But I want you to know that even if you’re a failure, even if you try to eat my face or something, that I always liked you. Hopefully, I’ll still get to see you a lot. But if not… I just wanted to let you know that I’m only giving you up ‘cause I gotta, not ‘cause I want to.” He breathed out through his nose. “Kuchiki’s probably gonna give you some flowery princess name. He’s never told me. But a while ago, I started thinking of you as ‘Rukia.’ I don’t really know where it came from. I think it means ‘light.’ So if you don’t like whatever name he gives you, you always got that one to fall back on.” He slapped his knees and stood up. “Enough of this! It’s time for you to get up.”

Once again, Renji stood, gripping the on switch in one sweaty hand. “Here goes nothing,” he declared, and flipped it.

First, there was a hum, which gradually raised in pitch until his ears rang. The needle on the voltage gauge climbed steadily. A few wisps of Renji’s hair began to stand on end. Rukia’s body bucked.

And then, with a loud crack, all the lights went out. Fuck.

Of all the things he had double and triple checked, the power supply to the generator had not been one of them. Renji groaned, and scrolled through his phone, trying to find the damn flashlight app. He only had 6% battery, which meant it was going to last about sixteen seconds. Fortunately, his lab was on an isolated circuit, so hopefully, he hadn’t knocked out power anywhere else in the building.

He had his phone pointed the wrong way when he turned the app on, and it immediately blinded him. “Ah, shit!” he exclaimed.

As he was blinking the stars out of his eyes, he heard a splash and he realized that he might have actually managed to bring Rukia to life before the generator died. He dashed over to the bath frantically. If she tried to get her own oxygen mask off, she might drown. Renji scanned liquid with his flashlight, but it was murky with bubbles. He couldn’t see anything. Had she sunk down to the bottom? He was practically leaning over the tank when he felt a hand on his arm that was so frigid that it burned, even through his lab coat and the shirt beneath it.

Slowly, Renji panned his already-dimming flashlight around, keeping it pointed at the floor, in part, so he didn’t blind her as he had himself, and in part because… well, because…

“Hi,” he said, as a pale face swam into view.

“Hi,” she repeated in the exact same inflection.

She could talk. She had speech, or at least repetition abilities. Renji wanted desperately to take notes, but he was frozen. “How do you feel?” he asked.

Those big, dark blue eyes blinked at him. “Cold,” Rukia replied.

[justlightlysedated]

this one is over 7k of untitled goodness, where michael left with alex after graduation:

Alex is sitting down on the living room floor surrounded by blueprints trying to figure out the different ways that one would be able to sneak into some rich douchebag's new mansion even with the new security they bought, just to prove a point, when Michael walks into the room, holding his phone in his hands like it's a ticking time bomb.

Alex tilts his head at him, letting the papers go to put his hand over the semi-permanent mark in the shape of Michael's hand that he has right over his heart, to gauge his emotions.

The touch blows the connection wide open, and all Alex can feel is panic and sadness and just a little bit of nostalgia.

He pushes the question into Michael's head, and his head snaps up, eyes darting to Alex.

"Isobel just called," he says, licking his lips and moving further into the room, carefully stepping over the blueprints to drop down on the edge of the coffee table. "Remember how you said that you would prefer to get dental surgery than go to our high school reunion?"

Alex sighs and drops the blueprints on the floor, temporarily forgetting his plans to make his boss suffer and then crawls over to Michael leaning his arms on Michael's knees and looks up at him.

"Why are we going to Roswell?" He asks, wrinkling his nose when he says the name of his home town.

Michael looks at him and then rolls his eyes a little, "I can go by myself-"

Alex makes a rude noise at the back of his throat.

"-but," Michael continues pointedly. "You'd just follow me."

Alex doesn't deny it.

"Why are we going to Roswell?" He asks again more pointedly, not letting Michael change the subject.

Michael sighs and sits up straight, dragging hands across his face and into his hair.

"Liz is back in town," he says. "And Max broke the rules, and saved her life."

Alex doesn't know why that's such a big deal since Michael had broken the rules not even an hour after they left Roswell.

"But now he wants to tell her the truth, and Isobel is scared he's not going to be able to stop himself from telling her about Rosa."

Alex leans back on his heels, letting his arms fall from Michael's knees. 

"Right," he says. "Max still hasn't told her the truth about what happened that night."

Michael sighs.

"It was my idea to take the blame-" he starts, but Alex is shaking his head, and lifting a hand to stop him from speaking. He really doesn't want to rehash this argument right now.

"Okay," Alex says. "Let me call Gabe and we should be there in a couple of hours. Call Isobel back and tell her you're on your way, and while you're at it call Max and tell him that the one he needs to tell the truth to is his own sister."

Michael just gives him an exasperated look, but calls Isobel while Alex gets to his feet and goes to where his phone is charging.

He calls up Gabe who works with him at Lockedpick Inc, a security firm and is an ex-airman who owns his own airplane and owes Alex his entire life and then some.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?" Gabe gripes as he answers the phone.

Alex lets his silence speak for itself.

Gabe sighs and groans and Alex can hear him sitting up in bed. "Okay, hit me with it. Please do not tell me that you already figured out how to break into the Salpeter Mansion. Gregory will be insufferable for a month at least."

Alex rolls his eyes. "I'm working on it, but that's not why I'm calling. I need a ride to Roswell."

Gabe is silent for a long moment. "You do remember that we live in the middle of nowhere Russia."

Alex rolls his eyes even harder. "You do remember about the Petersmith Debacle."

Gabe starts to curse him out, but Alex can hear him getting out of bed.

"We'll meet you on the strip in an hour," he says.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Gabe is saying as Alex is hanging up the phone. "You didn't say anything about loverboy-"

Alex exhales and turns to look out of the window. All he can see is white, and it's comforting. He really doesn't miss the sepia, dull tones of the desert. He really wishes that there was some other way to help than to go to Roswell, but he already knows that Michael will go because Isobel asked, and Alex is helpless but to follow Michael anywhere.

He feels arms wrap around his waist and then the heat that Michael is constantly exuding before he plasters himself against Alex's back, burying his face into his shoulder and mumbling something into the fabric of his shirt.

Alex just leans back against him, and sighs.

"We'll come back home," Michael says since he can feel what Alex is feeling. "We're not going to get stuck in Roswell, okay?"

Alex just sighs again and closes his eyes and tries not to feel like they're making a big mistake going back.

-

Isobel was obviously expecting Michael to be alone when she agreed to pick him up at the airport at noon, and she really must not have been expecting Alex from the way her mouth dropped open when he pulled his sunglasses off his face to say hello.

"You're Michael's husband?" She demands, looking at him a little incredulously.

"Technically," Alex responds. "We are partners."

"We're not exactly married," Michael says at the same time. "I just told you that because you were mad that I missed your wedding and afraid that I was going to end up alone for the rest of my life."

Isobel gives Michael a look and turns back to Alex, "Everyone thinks that you died."

Alex winces. 

"The important people don't," he says, and walks around her, pointing towards the car that he can see idling where it's not supposed to be idling, but no one seems to notice it.

"Is that our ride?" He asks, and Isobel just eyes him, a little distrustfully and nods. 

"Why don't you go put your bags inside while I greet my brother properly?"

Alex just rolls his eyes and looks to Michael, who turns him at the same time and nods his head once.

Alex nods his head back and takes the duffel bag that Michael had been holding and walks around Isobel to the car.

He's only settled himself into the backseat, when Michael opens the door and slides into the car right beside him.

Isobel stalks to the open driver's door, and glares at them sitting in the backseat.

She pulls the car away from the curb, and gets into traffic in a way that tells Alex that Michael was definitely the one to teach her to drive.

Alex turns to look at Michael who gives him a look like he knows what Alex is thinking and doesn't think it's fair.

Alex just shrugs, "The Ming Job."

Michael sputters indignantly, "Those were extenuating circumstances. You got shot!"

Alex just shrugs, and looks back to where Isobel is staring at them with narrowed eyes instead of looking at the road.

She looks upset that she can’t have the conversation that she wants with Michael on the way into Roswell, and Alex just sighs, again.

“I know the truth,” he says and Michael makes a low noise as panic begins to sneak into Alex through the bond. 

“It’s been ten years,” Alex says to him. “And we have an honesty policy since we can’t really lie to each other, so she’s bound to realize the truth sooner or later if we’re going to be around her for more than an hour. And she’ll be mad that you didn’t tell her.”

Isobel pulls off on the side of the road, stopping the car suddenly enough that both Michael and Alex jerk forward.

Michael complains, but Alex looks to Isobel who is turned around and staring at Alex intently.

Alex just looks back at her serenely.

“Izzy, don’t,” Michael says once he realizes that she’s trying to get into his head.

Her gaze breaks away from Alex and falls to Michael.

“I wanted you here because I need someone to help me convince Max that it’s a bad idea to tell Liz Ortecho the truth about us, but you’re just as bad as he is.”

Michael sputters in protest and Alex leans forward in his seat getting Isobel’s attention.

“First of all,” he starts and Michael sighs and drops his head backwards, looking up at the roof of the car like it’s going to help him. “Michael was dying so it’s not like we had many options.”

Isobel gives him a shocked look. “What do you mean he was dy-?”

“Second of all,” Alex continues talking over her. “Michael and I have been in a relationship for ten years. I would’ve found out the truth eventually. And third of all, why don’t you ask Max what really-”

Michael reaches forward and covers Alex’s mouth with his hand, cutting him off.

Isobel turns her glare on Michael who just smiles back at her while moving backwards with Alex.

Alex just sighs and rolls his eyes before he licks against Michael’s hand, who raises an eyebrow at him like he’s amused that Alex thought that would work.

They're all interrupted by Isobel's phone ringing.

She turns to answer it, and makes an annoyed face.

"I already said that you could have your stupid booth at the reunion, DeLuca. I'm in the middle of-"

Isobel stops speaking and then looks to Alex suspiciously before she pulls the phone from her ear and hands it over, "She wants to talk to you."

Michael drops his hand from Alex's mouth, and Alex reaches forward and grabs the phone from Isobel's hands.

"Hello dear," he says, and Maria just makes an amused noise.

"Did you bring the German sweets that Mom likes?"

"Fuck," Alex says, and looks to Michael who tilts his head like he's thinking about it and then shakes his head. "This trip was kind of last minute. But I did send you a package from Spain two days ago. It should get to you by this weekend."

Maria hums, "So if you weren't planning on coming for the reunion, why are you coming back?"

Alex rolls his eyes at her weak attempt at casual. "That information is classified."

"I will figure it out," she says. "You will come to the Pony tomorrow or I will put a curse on you."

Alex sighs, "Fine, but I'm going to complain the whole time."

"Snob," she says. "Now please pass me along to her majesty so that I can make sure you get here in one piece."

Alex passes the phone back to Isobel, who has a considering look on her face and hangs up the phone without talking to Maria.

“So you’re the one who sends me the packages,” she says like she finally figured something out that was bothering her.

Alex makes an amused noise.

“If you think that Michael remembers his own birthday, let alone that you share a birthday early enough to actually get you something for-”

“Yes,” Michael says interrupting them. “I’m a terrible gift giver who forgets birthdays and anniversaries, can we please actually get to Roswell before Max decides he wants to tell everyone?”

Isobel just rolls her eyes and turns back to the front of the car, pulling back into traffic.

Alex turns to look at Michael who is already staring at him and raises an eyebrow in question.

Michael just makes a face.

“Stop being like that,” Alex says rolling his eyes. “You would’ve done the same thing if it was me.”

Michael just drapes his arm around Alex’s shoulder and tucks him into his side.

Alex goes along willingly, dropping his face into the crook of Michael’s neck and closes his eyes.

-

Alex doesn’t mean to fall asleep, but when Michael moves, like his arm is asleep, and Alex startles awake, he sees the Welcome to Roswell sign passing the window.

“Welcome to hell,” Alex mumbles, and Michael’s makes a noise in agreement.

Isobel scoffs from the front seat. “Roswell isn’t that bad.”

Both Alex and Michael give her matching looks of incredulity.

Isobel drives into town, and she looks like she’s looking for someone, and Alex isn’t surprised when she stops the car in the middle of the street and hisses, “There he is.”

Alex can make Max out drinking from a milkshake, while Liz tells him something that must really tug at Max’s heartstrings because he lets the straw go and moves closer, an intent look on his face.

Isobel leans on the horn hard, making it beep loudly, and it startles Max and Liz apart, who turn to the cause of the noise.

Alex ducks down, but before Michael can, Isobel is yelling as she gets out of the car. “Hey Max! Guess who came home for the reunion!”

Michael sighs, but gets out of the car, pushing at Alex, who sinks down even lower in his seat.

Once he figures no one is looking too closely at the car, he leans back up to snoop, and very nearly melts at the sight of Michael and Max hugging tightly.

Alex knows that Michael misses Isobel and Max, but they’d made a choice and so far, life has been very good to them.

While they reunite, Alex looks around for Liz, and finds her, throwing the milkshake cup away while pocketing a plastic sandwich bag with the straw inside of it.

Alex wonders if he should warn the siblings that Liz is going to find out no matter what they do. But he’s pretty sure that there is no way to stop that particular train from leaving the station.

He just hopes that by the end of it they'll be able to minimize the damage. He doesn't think that Liz will tell anyone about the aliens, but things might go sideways if she finds out the truth about the night that Rosa died.

Alex had reacted badly when he found out. He can only assume that Liz will be ten times worse.

"Alex Manes," Max says in a shocked voice and Alex just turns towards the door that Michael had left open and smiles, waving a hand.

"In the flesh," he says, and then looks to Michael who can't seem to keep still and then back to Isobel.

"Maybe there's somewhere private that we can take the rest of this conversation?"

Isobel nods her head, and pushes Max into the passenger seat while he protests and asks what conversation.

Michael gets back into the car, and tugs Alex into a swift, chaste kiss, filling him up with the bubbling happiness that is pouring out of him.

If only for this, Alex thinks as he opens his eyes and looks at Michael who is watching him with a sweet smile on his face. Everything will be worth it as long as it keeps making Michael smile like that.

"I love you," Alex says in German.

"Love you too," Michael responds in the same language.

Alex just kisses him again.

"Alright, stop being gross," Isobel says. "I can't drive if I have to barf."

Alex rolls his eyes but leans back in his seat and ignores the way that he can feel Max watching them.

-

Isobel takes them to her house. Her husband is working and it was the closest place to drive to since Max lived out of town.

While they go sit down in the living room, and Isobel offers everyone drinks and does her level best to procrastinate, Alex leans back against the wall, right near the entrance that leads to the kitchen and stares.

"Aren't you supposed to be getting everything ready for the reunion?" Max asks when Isobel turns once again to Alex to ask him if he wants something to drink.

Isobel just sits down and gives him a look, "I have Daisy picking up the slack while I deal with you."

Max just gives her a look. "There is nothing to deal with."

"Yeah, so you weren't just going to tell Liz the truth before we interrupted you?"

Max's look goes even more intense and his eyes dart to Alex quickly and then to Michael, whose poker face is atrocious.

Alex sighs as the bulb goes off in Max's head.

"Wait," he says and turns fully to face Michael, who is looking at Alex like a deer caught in the headlights, panic edging into Alex's consciousness.

Alex just presses his hand over the mark and pushes all of the steady calm that he can at Michael, who visibly relaxes and turns to Max.

"He knows," Max demands, and he sounds accusing, which is not on.

Before Michael can answer, Alex does, "Yes, I do. It's what happens when you're in a committed relationship with someone for more than ten years. Something I'm sure you can't relate to."

Max turns to him, incensed, but Alex can feel Michael’s mild amusement seeping into him, so he’s not exactly worried.

“Who exactly do you think you are?” Max asks, rhetorically, gearing up to probably say more, but Alex just holds his hand out.

“I’m Alexander Manes, but most people just call me Alex.”

Max glares, and Michael snorts, while Isobel turns to him.

“You said that it was extenuating circumstances, that Michael was dying-” She starts.

“Michael was dying?” Max interrupts her, turning to Michael.

“What exactly happened?” Isobel says talking over her brother.

Alex licks his lips and looks to Michael, who is staring back at him, and shrugs before Alex can send him a questioning look, meaning that he doesn’t care.

Alex just turns back to Isobel, who is looking between the two of them with narrowed eyes, but turns her gaze intently on Alex when he turns to her.

“We’re not entirely sure,” Alex starts. “The best we could figure was that you were all connected and when Michael got too far, the connection snapped and rebounded, and I guess your species can’t survive without it, because Michael basically formed the connection with me on instinct. We have to reform the bond every time it starts to fade or else the same thing happens."

"So when you say you have an honesty policy it's because he's literally inside of your head," Isobel says, and she looks kind of intrigued like she didn't know that they could forge that kind of connection, especially with a human.

"It goes both ways," Alex says, and both Max and Isobel give him looks that he can't quite read, but before anyone can say anything, the front door is opening, and someone walks inside.

Alex turns to Michael, who pushes himself to his feet and is across the room, to stand in front of Alex in the time it takes the person to walk into the room.

Alex doesn't recognize the guy, but Isobel just stands up to greet them with a kiss, saying, "Baby, hi! I didn't know you were getting out early today?"

Michael's shoulders relax minutely, but he's slightly on edge, and Alex is definitely on edge. This is exactly the kind of thing he wanted to avoid, being seen by anyone who might recognize him and get back to his father.

He peeks around Michael and relaxes minutely when he realizes that it's not someone that he knows, but only just because the second Isobel's husband's gaze sweeps over him and Michael, Alex feels a shudder go through him, and he oddly feels like he's being watched, even though he knows there is no one else but them in the room.

Michael reaches out with one hand, and Alex moves until he's pressed up against his back, hooking his chin over Michael's shoulder.

They both look at Noah with the same look, and Alex can tell that it unsettles him a little.

"I just forgot a file I need in my office here," Noah says slowly, looking back to Isobel. "Who are your friends?"

"Oh," she says, and turns to Michael and Alex and gives them an odd look, before turning back to him. "I know you haven't met, but this is Michael and his husband, Alex."

Michael lifts a hand in hello when Noah's gaze darts back to them, but Alex can tell that he's not exactly setting out the welcome mat.

Noah's eyes narrow for a split second before his face clears, and he smiles at them, but Alex still feels like someone is holding a piece of ice against the back of his neck.

"Nice to meet you," he says. "Isobel talks so much about you. I feel like I already know you. Well, at least one of you."

Before Michael or Alex can respond, he turns back to Isobel. "I'll just get my file, and you can get back to your visit."

He kisses Isobel again and waves to Max and heads further into the house.

Michael takes a step forward and Alex lets him go to follow Noah's procession through the house.

"What is wrong with you two?" Isobel asks.

Alex turns to Isobel.

"Nothing," he says at the same time that Michael does.

Michael moves to sit back down, and Isobel starts to talk about the reunion and how glad she is that Michael could make time to visit them, making Alex snort.

Like she hasn't seen Michael in ten years, when Alex has in fact followed Michael to France whenever Isobel has gone there on vacation.

Noah leaves, giving his wife a fond look and barely looking at anyone else, for which Alex is grateful for.

He barely hears him start his car when Max's voice cuts through the air, tight with anger.

"You didn't come here for the reunion, did you?"

Michael just shrugs. "Isobel asked me to come."

"To convince me that it's a bad idea to tell Liz the truth, when you've done the same thing?"

Michael bristles immediately defensive, "I never said I would do that."

"And besides," Alex says interrupting them. "Liz is already going to find out. She's a biomedical engineer. Who has a sample of your cheek cells."

Max looks confused for a moment, before an almost fond, but exasperated look falls over his face. "She stole my cells?"

Alex doesn't bother to answer him, "And before you consider telling Liz the truth, shouldn't you think about telling Isobel the truth?"

Michael sighs, long and loud and exasperated and lets his head fall against the back of the couch.

“The truth about what?” Isobel asks, turning to Max as Max turns to Michael.

“You told him?” Max demands.

Michael just sighs again and Alex rolls his eyes.

"That's not the point-" Alex starts, but Max just talks over him.

"You thought you had it all figured out," he tells Michael. "You tell Isobel you're the one to blame and then just disappear without a care, leaving me behind to deal with-"

"You weren't talking to me!" Michael snaps back, sent to his feet by the bright hot heat of their combined anger. "And Isobel could barely look at me, so sorry for choosing to leave with the one person who wasn't avoiding me!"

"That's not the point," Max says a little mockingly, making Alex bristle. "We made a promise and you broke it first, so don't you sit there and tell me that you're trying to protect-"

"I came because Isobel asked me to come and I missed you guys, but I guess that was a one way street, huh?"

Max looks like he's about to say something else, but Isobel's voice rings out, sharp, "Max!"

Max just snaps around to look at her, and then makes a gesture like he's washing his hands of them, and walks out of the house, Isobel hot on his heels.

Alex looks to Michael who turns to him and gives him an exhausted look.

Alex pulls his phone out of his pocket and pulls up the Uber app.

-

Jim Valenti's cabin is a little dusty from misuse, but Alex has squatted in worse places. At least there is furniture.

Alex sits on the couch, propping his leg on the coffee table and sighs as it takes the pressure off.

Michael drops down to sit beside him, leaning forward and rolling Alex's jeans up to get at the pin and unlatch the prosthetic, carefully taking it off.

Alex just leans back on the couch and moves when Michael settles back, draping one arm around the back of the couch, making Alex fall a little into him.

Alex settles his head on his shoulder and exhales.

"We have to talk about Noah," he says, and Michael groans.

"Can't we just pretend that he's not setting off the Spidey Senses? I really don't want to get into a fight with Isobel too."

"Okay," Alex says, tabling the conversation for later. "Are we going to go to the reunion?"

Michael hums in thought and Alex sighs.

"It might be fun," Michael points out.

Alex frowns, pouting up at the ceiling. "Dental surgery might be fun. Going back to see all those assholes would be torture, and a sure fire way to alert my father that I'm not dead."

Alex can feel Michael rolling his eyes. "No one actually thinks that you're dead. It's just a rumor. And you're a professional thief with connections all over the world, your father can't hurt either of us and get away with it. Gregory would have a fit if you got hurt, and you're enough to protect us both."

Alex's frown deepens and he just grabs Michael's left hand.

Michael just threads their fingers together.

"You're not taking this seriously," Alex says, sitting up, and turning to face Michael.

Michael gives him a fond, exasperated look, "You're taking it too seriously."

"Guerin-" Alex starts, and Michael just tugs, until Alex falls against his chest, and kisses him.

Alex kisses him back, leaning heavily against him.

Michael tucks his fingers around Alex's ears and cups his jaw and slows the kiss down, rubbing their lips together and licking into Alex's mouth and dragging it out until Alex is almost desperate with it and ready to climb into Michael's lap.

It's then that Michael pulls away, keeping his hold on Alex so that he doesn't go anywhere and pressing their foreheads together.

Alex inhales deeply, and opens his eyes.

Michael is staring right back at him, and he smiles a little before speaking.

"Don't push me away," he says, and Alex wants to protest, but Michael just gives him a look and Alex has to concede the point. “We’re in this together. So together is the only way we’ll get through it, okay?”

Before Alex can respond, Michael’s phone rings.

“That would be Isobel,” Alex says, and moves so that Michael can take his phone out of his pocket as he gets to his feet.

“It took her longer than it did in Paris,” Michael notes as he answers the phone.

“She didn’t have Max to distract her then.”

Michael just rolls his eyes and says, “We’ll be at the reunion don’t worry,” as he walks towards the kitchen.

Alex just sighs and leans back against the couch, staring at him as he goes, a thoughtful look on his face.

-

Alex leaves Michael and Isobel talking in hissed whispers and goes to find Maria. She’s sitting by herself, sipping something that looks red and fizzy from a straw as she people watches.

He sits down across from her and she turns to him and her smile goes from her Customer Service Grin, to a genuine smile.

"Didn't expect to see you here," she says, setting her drink aside.

"Isobel asked Michael to come," he said and shrugged, holding his hands out across the table. "How does this work exactly?"

Maria just gives him a long look, tilting her head to the side before she reaches for his hands and looks at them intently. 

She presses her finger down the length of his palm and his hand twitches.

She looks up at him and then her eyes flicker over his shoulder.

"You should get out of here before it's too late," she says, looking back at him and signaling over his shoulder. "Before she gets him the matching boots."

Alex furrows his brow in confusion and turns to see that Isobel is stepping away from Michael, after setting a cowboy hat on top of his head.

Michael looks at Isobel dubiously and then his gaze finds Alex's and he raises an eyebrow in question. Alex just shrugs, and turns back to Maria, who just lets his hands go.

Alex smiles at her and pushes himself to his feet.

He shakes his head as Michael walks towards him, an exaggerated swagger in his step.

 Alex just raises an eyebrow and Michael just barely stops himself from walking into him. 

"Hey there, darlin,'" he starts, exaggerating his accent. "What's a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this?"

Alex snorts, "Does the cocky cowboy swagger ever work for you?"

Michael just shrugs and leans in a little bit closer, "I don't know. Is it working for you?"

Alex takes him in, eyes dragging from the top of his head and down.

Michael smiles, preening under the attention and turns a little. "I'm going to go get a drink. You're welcome to join me."

He walks away, and Alex watches him go with an amused smile on his face.

He turns to see if Maria is busy or still free, and finds Isobel sitting across from her with a frown on her face as she looks down at her phone. 

She types something up and then puts her phone away and wordlessly puts her hand down on top of the table, looking out into the crowd.

Maria who seems to be pretending that Isobel doesn't exist, slowly slides her hand over and overlaps their fingers together.

Alex blinks at the display, and wonders if Maria would answer if he asks, when his phone starts to vibrate in his pocket.

Alex pulls the phone out and rolls his eyes at the display before answering the call while walking and looking for somewhere that would give him a little bit of privacy.

Alex puts the phone to his ear and before he can say anything, Gregory is talking.

"Please explain to me what you are doing in America, and not just any place in America, but exactly in Roswell, your blackout zone?"

Alex sighs and ducks into what looks like a storage room, full of stacked chairs.

"Hello Alex. How are you Alex? I'm done having my temper tantrum because you could be in danger and I actually care-"

"I'm going to send Sheila to pick you up instead of Gabe," Gregory threatens, and Alex stops speaking immediately.

Sheila is a good pilot, if you're in the middle of a warzone.

"Now, answer the question please."

"I'm at my high school reunion," Alex says, resigned.

Gregory is silent for a second. "I distinctly remember you saying something about dental surgery whenever the subject came up."

Alex rolls his eyes, "Michael-" he starts and Gregory stops him with a scoffing sound.

"Of course," he says and then hangs up the phone.

Alex just rolls his eyes again and slips his phone back into his pocket turning around and jumping slightly when he finds Michael standing behind him.

 He frowns when he realizes that Michael is staring at him, but over his shoulder and he turns to catch the projection of a picture featuring him and Liz and Maria all laughing together in one of the booths at the Crashdown.

“I was expecting you to follow me, so when you didn’t I followed you instead,” Michael says as Alex turns back to him.

“Obviously,” Alex says, staring at him for a second, at the way that he seems to be avoiding Alex’s gaze, and Alex wonders what the hell could have possibly happened in the less than five minutes since he last saw him.

“Everything okay?” he asks, and the question is enough to startle Michael into eye contact. 

His gaze drops from the slideshow back to Alex, and he frowns, making Alex frown.

“What is it?” he asks, and takes a step closer to him.

Michael holds his hands out automatically, and Alex slides his hands into them, squeezing their fingers together tightly and pulling himself closer.

“Nothing,” Michael says unconvincingly.

Alex just stares at him in silence until he cracks, which takes all of five seconds, at most.

“Isobel said something that Max had mentioned earlier, and it’s that I wasn’t here. I left, and it seems now that while I thought they didn’t want me around anymore, they actually needed me more than ever.”

“Do you regret leaving with me?” Alex asks, already knowing what the answer is going to be.

“Of course not,” Michael says, feverently, tugging Alex in even closer. “I just hate this feeling like I abandoned them.”

Alex shakes his head. “You made a choice, using the information that you had at the time. It’s not your fault that you didn’t know what they were thinking.”

“I know,” Michael says, and he sounds a little frustrated, and Alex frowns some more.

“Then what’s the problem?” he asks.

Michael stares at him for a moment before shaking his head. “There isn’t one. I guess being here made me think about how different life would’ve been if I had told you no.”

Alex makes a face as that as the thought crosses his head.

“I don’t know,” he says. “I can’t imagine having a life without you in it. And if you had told me no, I would’ve gone with my Plan B, which-”

“No,” Michael says. “That’s not something I want to imagine. Do you think I could’ve convinced you to stay instead of joining the Airforce?”

Alex bites down on his lip. “I don’t know. I’d like to think that you would be able to convince me, but my father-”

“Yeah,” Michael says nodding his head. “I don’t want to think about this anymore.”

Alex licks his lips and inclines his head slightly.

He exhales and squeezes Michael’s hands before he lets them go and wraps his arms around Michael’s shoulders, smiling when Michael slides his hands around Alex’s waist.

“There is one thing,” he says in a low voice, and Michael sways closer like he’s leaning in to hear him better.

“I’m thinking about you and me and a reunion, ten years coming,” he continues, and Michael tightens his arms around Alex’s waist, pulling their bodies flush together.

Alex tilts his chin forward, and Michael leans in even closer dragging their noses together.

“You should kiss me,” Alex says, and Michael is nodding his head, his curls brushing across Alex’s forehead as he does. “Like it’s been ten years since the last time.”

Michael pulls back a little and looks deep into Alex’s eyes and Alex looks back at him not hiding anything.

Michael lets him go, and Alex wants to protest, as he lowers his hands to his sides, but before he can, Michael just stares at him, and it’s almost like that’s what he’d been imagining this whole time, living a life without seeing Alex, and he just moves, digging his fingers into the back of Alex’s neck, and crushing their mouths together hard.

Alex inhales sharply, but he moves into the kiss, dragging a hand into Michael’s hair and biting against his mouth.

Michael goes even more aggressive which he doesn’t really get aggressive with Alex, unless Alex has almost died, but he digs his fingers harder, and his kiss turns desperate and hungry, and Alex whimpers low in the back of his throat, tugging harshly against his hair, holding on for the ride.

Michael kisses him until Alex’s head is spinning, and he barely remembers where they are, and then he presses their foreheads together, breathing roughly, and keeping Alex close.

Alex licks his lips, and leans heavily against Michael, running his hands up and down his back and hopes that even if everything starts to fall apart around them, that they’ll never lose this.

-

Alex is startled out of sleep by his phone vibrating across the table.

He moves from where he'd been sleeping tucked beneath Michael's arm, face practically squished into his armpit.

He considers murdering whoever it is that is calling him, and considers even calling up Gregory for support when he grabs the phone and sees that it's a number that he doesn't know.

The area code is for Roswell, so Alex just exhales roughly before he grabs the phone and answers it right before it goes to voicemail.

"Who is this and how did you get this number?"

There is a surprised hesitant silence over the phone for a few seconds and then a slightly familiar voice says, "Alex?"

"Hmm," Alex says humming and dropping back down on Michael's chest, making him groan as the move startles him awake. "I've never met another Alex before, but there's a first time for everything."

"What?" The voice says and the confused tone is more familiar. "Wait. No I mean, I was asking if-never mind. It's Kyle. I got your number from some files that dad had on you."

Michael moves until Alex falls back onto the sheets and then he drops his head into Alex’s stomach, pulling the sheet over his head as he grumbles sleepily.

“Yes, I figured,” Alex says as he pats Michael’s head gently. “Is there a reason you’re calling so early in the morning?”

“It’s almost noon,” Kyle says.

Alex just stays silent and hopes the unimpressed vibes reach Kyle wherever he is.

“Okay,” he says a little slowly. “I wouldn’t be calling if it wasn’t important. But I need to ask, would it be worth it to ask your dad for help?”

Alex makes an offended noise. “Not unless you want to be blackmailed.”

Kyle just sighs. “I kind of figured you would say that, but this issue is pretty sensitive and I-”

“Why don’t you come over, and bring some coffee,” Alex suggests, and Michael lifts his head up, letting the sheet fall off as he looks at Alex, who raises an eyebrow at the sullen expression on his face.

“Where are you exactly?” Kyle asks. “I only know you’re in Roswell because Liz told me that she saw you at the reunion.”

“I’m staying in your dad’s old hunting cabin,” Alex says and then hangs up the phone before Kyle can ask or say anything else.

He drops the phone down on top of the bed and groans.

--Alex is woken up by Kyle who calls him and asks him how worth it would it be to ask his dad for help

--Alex tells him to come over, only for them to be interrupted by Isobel because she found Liz and Max, experimenting

--Michael and Alex just look at each other, and come to an agreement, Alex will deal with Kyle, Michael will go help Isobel deal with Max

--Alex and Kyle find the bunker, and while Kyle goes to find out where his mom put the letters, Alex tries to figure out how much his father actually knows, goes to the OTHER bunker while his dad is busy at the drive in

"Liz has a handprint on her chest," Kyle starts.

"Jesus Fucking Christ," Alex says.

"My dad always said if you see the handprint go to Manes, but I'm beginning to think he meant you and not your dad."

--While Alex is doing that, Michael finds out that Liz already knows an alien killed Rosa, tries to get Max to tell Isobel only for Max to find out that they had sent Liz away, Michael calls Alex to give them a ride, and they tell Isobel the truth while Max talks to Liz

--Alex finds out that his job provided the security equipment for Caulfield and asks for the blueprints

--Isobel and Noah fight and then she fights with Michael, and Michael takes old doubts to Alex, about Alex staying only because they have a bond, and Alex tries to alleviate his fears

--Alex is just going to put Caulfield aside and now that the secrets are out in the open and calls Gabe to see when he’s free, but before he can bring it up, Isobel injects herself with the serum and Michael has to help Liz figure out how to help her

--While he does that, Alex decides to check out Caulfield, and he goes with his team on a reconnaissance mission to find out what’s going on

--He ends up arguing with Gregory and they’re in the middle of trying to figure out what to do when Michael gets back from another unsuccessful day at figuring out how to help Isobel

"I don't have time to argue about this, Guerin," Alex snaps and then shuts his eyes tight. 

Michael barely waits a second before he says, "Leave," voice barely shaking.

Alex opens his eyes, and Michael turns to everyone else, "Are y'all deaf? I said to leave, now."

When no one moves, surprised by the turn of events, Michael rolls his eyes and then narrows them, lifting a hand and pushing at them until they all leave, amidst protests.

Someone, most likely Gabe, asks if they should leave them alone in there, and starts going on about the last time that they left Michael and Alex alone while they were having a disagreement had ended up with them having to burn the couch.

Michael closes and locks them all outside for good measure and then turns back to Alex.

“You’re letting your father get into your head,” Michael states, and Alex just exhales roughly and starts to pace agitatedly.

“We talked about this-”

“That was before!” Alex snaps, turning to look at Michael, who looks expectant, like he’s waiting for Alex to say more, and Alex just breathes in deeply and turns and starts to pace again.

--

[weekendwarriorblog]

THE WEEKEND WARRIOR 6/25/21: F9, WEREWOLVES WITHIN, THE ICE ROAD, FALSE POSITIVE, I CARRY YOU WITH ME and More!

Well, June is quickly coming to an end, but that means it’s officially summer. No, for real this time. Summer started June 21, and that means we have the latest attempt to revive the box office, and really, if this doesn’t do it, then we’re sunk. Doomed. It’s over, and Jeff Bock, the Streamer Relations guy, has won. We’re in the endgame now. Go to the movies this weekend, and don’t let Jeff Bock win!

Before we get to the theatrical releases, the 20th Tribeca [formerly Film] Festival ended over the weekend, and it certainly “looked different” as we were reminded every time some local celebrity introduced a movie on the festival’s virtual platform. As far as the movies I saw, a few are mentioned below but generally, the documentaries once again outplayed any of the narrative features, which was pretty much the same with other festivals this year. Besides the Rita Moreno doc that I reviewed last week, I quite enjoyed A-Ha the Movie, a documentary that covers the famous ‘80s “one hit wonders” travails since their first hit album and the ubiquitous “Take on Me.” It’s a great doc that really shows what can happen when you try to keep the band together even when you stop travelling or even talking to each other. Also Bitchin’: The Sound and Fury of Rick James was another great musical doc about a funk/soul singer who I really never knew very much about, so it was quite educational. I also liked 7 Days quite a bit, and that was one of the better narrative films at the fest.

It felt like there were two very different Tribecas. There was one for the elitist journalists who were allowed to attend all the in-person screenings and parties, and there was the one for the rest of us -- where we were just sitting at home watching stuff on our TV sets, just like we did with Sundance and SXSW. And make no mistake, as someone who has been covering Tribeca since Year Two (where I *bought* all my tickets), it definitely felt like I was being pushed aside by the current Tribeca regime who just wants to be seen as something exclusive just for certain people, including as a woke festival catering to the underrepresented (but not really… if that was the case, they would have given free tickets out to people who live in the areas of the city where they set-up their pop-up screenings). I only know a few locals who received the better in-person badge -- pretty much the entire staff at IndieWire, for instance -- but as someone who has covered the festival for years and received a Hudson Pass for the effort, it definitely felt like I don’t really need to cover Tribeca anymore. It’s just not the elite festival it thinks it is, and as far as I’m concerned, it will never be Cannes, it will never be Sundance, and it will never even be SXSW. It continues to be a festival with zero identity that caters to the rich, white New Yorkers that already get special treatment wherever they go. I’m not even sure how much of it even takes place in Tribeca anymore, since the premier location for movie premieres seemed to be at Hudson Yards, which is about four miles North of “Ground Zero,” the area affected by 9/11 that precipitated the need for something like the Tribeca Festival in the first place. I feel that this year’s festival was an even bigger disappointment than last year’s virtual only, but that’s because they’ve finally just given up on the press they don’t feel are worthy of covering them. So yeah, not for me.

It’s hard to believe that F9 (Universal Pictures), the ninth movie in the “Fast Saga.” is finally being released in North America, since I felt like I reviewed it five years ago. Actually, it was only a month ago, but it just seems like forever since I’ve been so busy this month.

In case you have no idea what to expect and wanna know: Vin Diesel is back as Dominic Torreto, and this time we meet another member of his real family, brother Jakob (John Cena), who is now working with the criminal spy organization Cypher. Most of the gang are back, except for Dwayne Johnson’s Agent Hobbs and Jason Statham’s Deckard Shaw, who you may remember went off to make Hobbs and Shaw a few years back. In fact, that last movie was the last movie in the franchise, which was supposed to act as a tie-over between 2017’s Fate of the Furious and F9, which was originally supposed to come out in 2020. Got all that?

Hobbs and Shaw opened with around $60 million in early August, which is generally one of the few weekends in the late summer where a movie could still open big. That was the lowest opening for the franchise in over ten years, because ever since 2009’s Fast & Furious, every single movie has opened over $70 million and closer to $100 million or more. 2013’s Fast and Furious 6 and 2017’s The Fate of the Furious didn’t quite hit a $100 million opening, but still, it’s a pretty good barometer of how big the franchise was in the before-times. James Wan’s Furious 7 still sports the biggest opening with $147 million in early April 2015, hampered by the year-long delay after one of the film’s stars, Paul Walker, died in a car crash a year earlier. Walker’s death may have helped drive audiences to the movie with the same morbid curiosity way as Christopher Nolan’s The Dark Knight back in 2008. (Furious 7 grossed $353 million domestically, which is also a high watermark for the franchise domestically.)

The Fate of the Furious grossed slightly less than the previous two installments and then Hobbs and Shaw ended up with $173 million, which is nothing to sneeze at… unless your movie ended up costing $200 million, which that one did. We’re talking about very expensive movies here, and one presumes F9 is up there in that $200 million range, but it bodes a couple questions. Was the success of the franchise since Fast 5 mainly due to “franchise Viagra” Dwayne Johnson and was that helped by the addition of Statham? With the two of them gone, does that take away from the movie’s potential or do people like Diesel, Tyrese Gibson’s Roman, Ludacris and the other long-timers like Michelle Rodriguez and Jordana Brewster enough to make this an opening weekend must-see?

There might some questions whether theaters in bigger cities like New York and L.A., where F9 would generally do big business, will be as full as normal -- even with full capacity finally being allowed. The other question is whether Universal may have released this movie overseas too far in advance of the States. Think about it. When you start to think about movie piracy and where a lot of that comes from, it goes right to China, and a movie like this at a time like this when people are cautious about running to theaters, well if you walk down the street and someone is selling a copy for 5 bucks, why wouldn’t you buy it? That’s the reason why studios release movies day and date across the globe, or at least they try to. Piracy used to be a big thing hurting the movie business, but that seems to have been forgotten.

Reviews for the movie have been mixed -- I already reviewed the movie over at Below the Line -- but about the same as the last two installments, so those won’t necessarily stop people from going to the movies, since this is a classic summer popcorn movie where it feels like everyone should go see it opening week. Like in the past, F9 will open Thursday night for previews, but it seems to getting more Thursday night previews than normal -- I’ve seen five to six screenings in many locations -- and that might because Universal realizes how important this release is and how many people will be looking to see if it can revive theatrical.

I think I’m going to say that F9 will make around $72 to 74 million this weekend, which takes it back to Fast & Furious days, but I do think audiences will like the movie more than critics, and because of that, the decision to make two more movies will probably be warranted.

I was very excited to see Josh Ruben directing another movie so soon after last year’s Scare Me -- a terrific horror-comedy you can watch on Shudder -- and his latest film, WEREWOLVES WITHIN (IFC Films), based on the Ubisoft game, is just as funny AND scary. It stars Sam Richardson as Finn Wheeler, the new park ranger arriving in the small and remote town of Beaversfield, which seems to have just as much politics and backbiting as the biggest of the cities. He quickly becomes friends with the bubbly postwoman, Cecily (Milana Vayntrub), as she introduces him to the quirky townsfolk… oh, yeah, and there is something brutally mauling them to death.

The premise for Werewolves Within seems fairly simple, and maybe that’s because it is based on a VR game where I assume you have to figure out who is the vampire, so that’s pretty much what’s going on as Finn, Cecily and seemingly the entire town wind up locking themselves up in the Beaversfield Inn trying to figure out who is killing the others. Thankfully, there are more layers built into the ongoing relationships between the townsfolk.

Ruben’s got a lot of things going for his second feature film, the first thing being a super-funny script by Mishna Wolff, but also the amazing cast he put together that not includes Richardson and Vayntrub with some brilliant chemistry but also the likes of Michaela Watkins and Michael Chernus, who can never do wrong in my book. Those two elements alone would make Werewolves Within worthwhile, but Ruben ably takes on the challenges of a much bigger cast than his previous movie and finds a way to keep the viewer constantly on edge and interested in what will happen next, especially to some of the characters who are not as jovial or friendly as Richardson’s Finn.

But what works best about the movie is that there are plenty of unexpected twists, maybe some more obvious than others, and the fact you never really know who might die next or house keeps the movie quite entertaining. It also shows off Ruben’s great skills at combining horror and humor, something that’s very difficult for even the best directors, but when you’ve got it -- as Ruben proved so perfectly with Scare Me -- then you might as well use it to its fullest.

It’s hard to describe how well the humor works without using jokes ala something like Shaun of the Dead, but it’s more of a light-hearted charm that one wouldn’t expect to go so well with the dire situation in which the characters find themselves. It doesn’t hurt that many of the characters are so unlikable that getting their comeuppance adds to that humor. If you’re expecting a lot of werewolf transformations or even werewolves plural, you might be slightly disappointed, but it’s nice that a movie can be its own thing without trying to copy other films in the horror subgenre.

Either way, Ruben is 2 for 2 with his second attempt at comedy-horror, which ventures just far enough away from Scare Me to make me think that he’ll continue to be a great voice in the much-maligned and hard-to-muster horror subgenre.

Werewolves Within just debuted at the Tribeca Festival, and it will be released in theaters this Friday and then be On Demand and Digital starting July 2. I’ll also have an interview with Josh Ruben over at Below the Line a little later today, too, so check that out!

Not getting a theatrical release in the United States unfortunately is Jonathan Hensleigh’s THE ICE ROAD (Netflix), starring Liam Neeson as a truck driver in Winnipeg, whose special skill is driving that truck across the frozen lake up north. When a diamond mine collapses in the very north side of Canada, it’s up to him and a crew of other ice truckers to drive their big rigs across the frozen lake to save the men trapped in the mine.

I quite liked this movie that definitely marks a return of Hensleigh to some of those great action movies he wrote in the ‘90s, like Die Hard with a Vengeance, but this is also a significantly better action movie than some of the ones he’s directed, like the 2004 The Punisher. The sad fact is that I’ve been pretty disappointed with Neeson’s recent film choices, particularly in the last year when disappointments like The Honest Thief and The Marksman managed to get theatrical releases even during the pandemic. The Ice Road is a much better movie, maybe because Hensleigh wrote and directed it himself, but also he had much better source material in the docuseries, Ice Road Truckers, and he clearly did his research into these 18-wheelers on these dangerous trips across iced-over lake that could crack at any time. Hensleigh uses this idea well to tell a story where much of the movie takes place on that dangerous ice.

There are elements to the story that might not work quite as well, such as the decision to have Neeson’s brother Gurty (Marcus Thomas) be suffering from such horrible PTSD that it makes him almost a bigger hindrance than a help on the trip. On the other hand, the movie does have the always great Laurence Fishburne in a smaller role and the real breakout has to be Amber Midthunder, the bad-ass Indigenous Tantoo who proves that she can drive as well as the guys. I also found that Hensleigh’s use of the corporation as the ultimate antagonist in sending these truckers to their potential deaths more for the money than to actually save lives works well to add to what would have been a simple rescue mission.

The Ice Road is a pretty solid (ugh, bad pun) action-thriller that has some elements of other similar movies but then really throws the viewer for a loop with the amazing on-ice truck driving stunt work, that keeps one invested while really putting it ahead of some of Neeson’s other recent action fare.

You can read my interview with Hensleigh over at Below the Line.

Next up are two very different movies that played at the 20th Tribeca Festival over the past week

Heidi Ewing’s I CARRY YOU WITH ME (Sony Pictures Classics) finally gets a theatrical release after getting its Oscar qualifying run way back in December and premiering at the Sundance Film Festival in January 2020! Based on the true story of Mexican immigrant lovers Ivan and Gerardo, who travel from Mexico to New York City and are reunited after decades apart and many struggles to rekindle their romance.

This is an interesting movie for Ewing, best known for her award-winning docs like Jesus Camp, because it’s not an easy story to tell or movie to make, covering a span of decades, and using flashbacks to tell the individual stories of how these two men discovered their homosexuality while surrounded by a toxic culture who hates them for loving each other. We meet Iván as he’s cooking in a Mexican restaurant in New York before we flashback to Pablo, Mexico in 1994 when he’s younger (and played by Armando Espitia), married with a young son, but when he meets Gerardo (Christian Vázquez) at a gay club and the two click, he’s put in a place where he has to keep his sexuality hidden if he doesn’t want to lose his son. As the romance blossoms, Ivan realizes that he needs to go to America if he really wants his culinary skills (he even went to school) to be used, because in Pablo, he’s relegated to being a dishwasher.

Ivan decides to make the dangerous trek across the border with his best friend Sandra (Michelle Rodríguez -- not the one in F9) with the promise to return to Gerardo. Things don’t necessarily go as planned but decades later they’re reunited, and struggle to make it in New York City as restaraunteurs. As you watch their story unfold, you can fully understand why Ewing might want to tell this story, co-writing the script with Alan Page Arriaga, but there are still elements of documentary in this narrative beautifully shot by Cinematographer Juan Pablo Ramírez AMC.

Unfortunately, those elements of documentary are what really confused me, because there are moments in the present day when the real Ivan and Gerardo are playing themselves, but then there are times when the two main actors are made up to look older, and I couldn’t really figure out what was happening at times, maybe due to some of the more dream-like nature of the storytelling.

Even so, Ewing has created a terrific character piece and quite a warm and wondrous love story, even if it’s plagued by violence and discrimination due to their roots and their homosexuality. I couldn’t help but think that I might have liked Moonlight more if it wasn’t told in such a linear fashion, separated into three chapters. By using the flashbacks to keep the viewer fully focused on what’s happening, Ewing creates something more on par with Cuaron’s Y Tu Mama Tambien that feels just as authentic as if Ewing were a gay Mexican herself.

Probably the weakest part is the second act where we watch Ivan trying to get to America, because that’s been done in so many other movies, including Cary Joji Fukunaga’s earlier film, Sin Nombre, and that feels a little less unique or special compared to the rest of the duo’s story.

It’s a shame that I Carry You With Me wasn’t able to build any awards traction, partially due to Covid and the long gap between festival appearances. Either way, it proves that Ewing is a lot more than a “mere” documentary filmmaker, able to mix those skills with that of a sharp narrative filmmaker with a keen eye for storytelling. This is a particularly strong character piece and a beautiful love story based on two real men, unlike anything I’ve seen in recent memory.

Honestly, I’ve given up on figuring what Sony Classics is doing in terms of their theatrical releases. I guess this could be opening in New York and Los Angeles or in more cities. I have no idea, because no one tells me anything. But I also wanted to share the review by my friend J. Don Birnam that he wrote out of the New York Film Festival last year. He has reasons to be able to connect with this material much more than I can, which is probably why his review is so damn good: http://splashreport.com/nyff-film-review-i-carry-you-with-me-an-inspiring-story-of-triumph-by-rarely-depicted-peoples/

Not quite as good is John Lee’s horror-thriller FALSE POSITIVE (Hulu/A24), starring Ilana Glazer from Broad City, who also cowrote the screenplay with Lee. It’s a very different non-comedic role for Glazer in which she plays Lucy, a pregnant woman, who finds her pregnancy turned into a nightmare, as she puts herself in the hands of the nefarious ob/gyn Dr. John Hindle, played by the great Pierce Brosnan, who happened to be her husband’s (Justin Theroux) medical teacher.

Man, did I want to like this psychological thriller, because I think Glazer is just the best in Broad Street, and the fact that she co-wrote this and is trying to do something unexpected out of the ordinary just thrills me to the end. That being said, her character Lucy seems to be a rather standard powerful NYC woman with a good job where she’s better than the rest, who ends up going through a torturous experience as an expectant mother who isn’t able to trust her own doctor. Part of the conflict comes when Julie is told that she is having more than one baby, but she has to choose between twin boys or a single girl, because she’s told that she won’t be able to take all three of them to term.

It’s an okay premise dealing with the many worries that women must have while pregnant, and things get crazier and crazier as Julia begins seeing everything, and while Glazer isn’t bad while playing a straight-up no-humor dramatic role, it’s hard not to see her more as a Debra Messing type when she has her hair straightened out to look different.

The horror elements are decent whether it’s the body horror idea of having a number of dead baby fetuses inside you, which is pretty creepy, and Lee doesn’t do a bad job with the trippier parts of the movie, though I feel like it overuses and leans on the use of blood to step up the horror, and it doesn’t work that well. There are also aspects to the story that feel somewhat predictable only because there are only a few way things can go the way things are set-up.

It’s obvious that Glazer and Lee wanted to make social commentary on the male-dominated field of childbirth with some of the weirder aspects of the movie, like the Stepford Nurses that constantly surround Brosnan’s Dr. Hindle. Having them there smiling eerily always boosts Lucy’s suspicion that her husband might be cheating with one or both of them. Still, there are too many aspects of False Positive (including the fact it was produced by A24) that makes one think that this is another attempt at the kind of “elevated humor” that’s been done so much better by the likes of Ari Aster and Robert Eggers.

Ultimately, False Positive is okay, it certainly tries hard, it’s maybe not quite as good as I hoped or expected of what might have been a perfectly fine vehicle for Glazer. I certainly had high hopes for what she might do with a pregnancy thriller, that this movie just never quite delivers.

False Positive debuts on Hulu this Friday.

From Sweden comes the horror film THE EVIL NEXT DOOR (Magnet) from filmmakers Oskar Mellender and Tord Danielsson, which follows a new stepmom Shirin (Dilan Gwyn), who has moved into a duplex with her partner Fredrik and his young son, Lucas (Eddie Eriksson Dominguez), but they soon learn that strange things start happening that seem to be coming from the abandoned house next door.

I’m always open to see what’s coming from the Scandinavian countries, because there’s been a lot of particularly good genre over the years -- Let the Right One In, for instance -- but I got the impression right away that originality was not going to be in the cards for this one, which immediately has the small boy having an imaginary friend, who you know is either an evil spirit or one of the spirit’s previous victims. Sadly, that’s the case here, and without the originality of some of the original horror films it's emulating, The Evil Next Door just seems like an international copycat.

If you’re even a modicum fan of modern horror, you’re likely to have seen many better versions of this movie, which is just kind of bland overall, but constantly resorts to scenes of a woman walking through the house acting scared and the cheap scares that inevitably come. This one even uses the eerie “next day” chapters that have been used in so many other horror movies, including the Paranormal Activity movies.

Mellender and Danielsson certainly come off as capable filmmakers, and they could do far worse than the incredibly dramatic and emotional performance by Gwyn -- the movie does get slightly better as it goes along -- but the feeling that you’ve seen it all before and know what to expect completely detracts from appreciating any of the finer aspects. For instance, there’s some decent creature design work but even that sometimes goes for the expected in terms of the spirit’s look. The filmmaker’s skills are also evident from the use of music and sound design, which is crucial to a movie like this working in any fashion, but it’s hard to fully appreciate it when you feel you know where things are going.

The Evil Next Door just feels like a movie made by fans of the far superior “Conjuring” movies who managed to cop some of the tricks to scare the viewer, but without fully understanding why those movies work due to original characters and storytelling ideas. These are decent filmmakers, but I’d really like to see them do something more unique or original.

If you live in NYC and feel like going up to Harlem, Questlove’s documentary, Summer of Soul, is opening a week early, this Friday at the AMC Magic Johnson in Harlem, New York, and it’s also opening at El Capitan in Los Angeles. It will open in theaters elsewhere and on Hulu NEXT Friday, July 2, so I’ll write more about it in next week’s column.

Debuting on Apple TV+ Friday is Drew Zanthopoulos’ documentary FATHOM (Apple TV+), which follows scientists Dr. Ellen Garland and Dr. Michelle Fournet as they study the whale songs of the humpback whale and try to figure out ways to communicate with them and understand whale culture. Oddly, this is one of quite a few whale documentaries coming out over the next few weeks.

Another movie that I just don’t have time to review just now is Eytan Rockaway’s gangster thriller, LANSKY (Vertical), which stars Harvey Keitel, Sam Worthington, John Magaro, AnnaSophia Robb and Minka Kelly. Worthington is down-and-out writer David Stone, who gets a call from the legendary gangster Meyer Lansky (played by Keitel), who has been of the grid for decades but worth a fortune. Stone meets with Lansky as the FBI closes in on the Godfather of organized crime, and he’s told about Lansky’s time with Murder Inc. and the National Crime Syndicate.

Other movies out this week, include:

SILENT NIGHT (Samuel Goldwyn)

SISTERS ON TRACK (Netflix)

TOO LATE (Gravitas Ventures)

Next week is the 4th of July (on Sunday), and we’re getting FOREVER PURGE (Universal) and THE BOSS BABY 2: FAMILY BUSINESS (also Universal!!?!?)... I guess someone really wants to dominate the box office again, huh?

[a-lockman5]

Things were different now. {Devi x Paxton}

A/N: Whoop! My first attempt at writing Paxton/Devi. Requested! (eeee!) Canonically accurate. I did not proofread so if it sucks I’m sorry. IF I SUCK, I’M SORRY. 

Also checkout my masterlist! Please request more!

Warnings: Fluff/angst, (that’s it, I think?)

“Devi, hi!” her voice came over the receiver.

“Hey!” Devi chimed back. “How’d you get my number?”

“Paxton gave it to me, of course. I have good news; I was accepted to FIDM!”

Eleanor and Fabiola looked at Devi questioningly, but she just shook her head as she rose from the table and went outside. They were at Fabiola’s house studying for their chemistry test.

“That’s amazing, but of course you did! They’d be stupid not to accept you!”

“I’m so happy! We’re celebrating tonight and Dad told me to invite whoever I wanted.”

“Great! You’ve earned it, Becca.”

“Thanks! Do you think you can come?”

“What?”

“Come to dinner! I never could have made it this far without you. You have to celebrate with me!”

“Uhh…”

***

“Who was that? Your mom?” Eleanor asked.

“No, it was my friend Becca.”

“Paxton’s sister, Becca?” Fabiola asked incredulously. Devi had finally told her friends the details of the photoshoot the day Eleanor’s mom left. She’d explained how Paxton did not trust many people around his sister, and that Devi had met her only by circumstance. When Becca needed someone to save her photoshoot for her portfolio, Paxton had few people he felt he could call.

“She got accepted to the fashion program.”

“Yeah, but have you” –

“No, not once,” Devi cut Eleanor’s question off. “I haven’t talked to him since he blew me off after Ben’s party.”

She had not told her friends about the voicemail Paxton left her on her dad’s birthday. She hadn’t even told anyone Paxton kissed her. Things were different now though, weren’t they? After making amends with her mom and spreading her dad’s ashes, Devi found Ben asleep in Mr. Gross’s car. He was waiting for her… he stayed for her to make sure she was okay. She hadn’t considered Shira in that moment like she had the night of his birthday party. Devi had been so consumed by what must have seemed like a small gesture to Ben but was monumental to her.

She’d felt so abandoned by so many people during the last few weeks, but not Ben. Ben Gross. If you’d told Devi a month ago that she would kiss Ben Gross in his father’s car by the beach in Malibu, she’d have died of laughter. Things were different now though. Ben had been there for her, opened his home to her, brought her friends back to her, delivered her to what was probably the most important event of her life to date. If that wasn’t love, what else could it be?

After their moment in Malibu, Ben went straight to Shira to end their relationship. Reportedly, there was no love lost on Shira’s end. Ben did say she’d been surprised, but not particularly upset. After that, he and Devi were together. No real discussion – not that they’d needed one. Ben was texting her the next day, telling her the details of their first date. They’d gone to miniature golf, and then for pizza. Ben actually had the good humor to take her to the pizza parlor where he’d met TheRealPickleRick69. They’d shared a laugh and it was a perfectly pleasant evening.

She’d never had a boyfriend before. She had nothing to compare her first relationship to, but Ben was nice. He didn’t bicker with her in class the way they’d used to. He studied with her during lunch. He brought her gifts every so often. They’d talk at night before bed, but only texting. Her mother didn’t know they were dating, but instead thought they had struck a competitive friendship. It was better that way. They were allowed to spend more time together. Things were different now, but they were good.

“What’d she want?”

“She invited me over for dinner,” she told them as she picked at her fingernails.

“What did you say?” Fabiola asked. Devi didn’t respond, only continued to stare at her hands.

“Devi!” her friends exclaimed in unison.

“You can’t do that!”

“What would Ben say?”

“Listen,” Devi held her hand up, “Becca is my friend, and this is big! How would you guys feel if I blew you off after you got into” –

“Cal Arts”

“Berkeley”

“Exactly,” she nodded at each of her friends’ aspirations. “You guys taught me I need to be a better friend. That means supporting my friend while she goes after her dream!”

“Okay… but what are you going to tell Ben?”

***

“Devi?”

“Paxton, hi,” she tried to say casually.

“Hey, I didn’t” –

“Coyote girl!” Trent appeared in the doorway. “What is up? I haven’t seen you since that rich guy’s party.”

“You saw me in history yesterday, Trent.”

“Oh yeah, that was you!” he laughed. “What are you doing here?”

“She’s here for dinner,” Rebecca said from deeper inside the house. “I invited her.”

Paxton glanced over his shoulder before looking back at Devi. He frowned slightly and his tongue swept across his top lip as he gaze searched hers for a moment. “Yeah, of course, I should have guessed. Come on in, Vishwakumar.”

It reminded her of that party at Trent’s – the one that had ended in Paxton driving her to the hospital. He and Trent had been surprised to see her that night too, but Paxton was much happier to see her then. She stepped across the threshold as she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket.

*Hey, quiz me for geography?*

She had chosen not to say anything to Ben about dinner at Paxton’s. Not that she wouldn’t… she just didn’t beforehand. Things were so new and she didn’t want to start a fight over nothing. Because it would be over nothing. She was celebrating her friend, that was all. It didn’t need to be a big deal. Still, she pocketed her phone again after putting it on ‘do not disturb.’

“Thanks for coming!” Becca enveloped her friend in a hug. “I can’t believe I got in.”

“I can,” Devi said genuinely. “I’d kill to have your clothes in my closet!”

“If I remember correctly, you tried to steal some of her clothes,” Paxton grinned at them. Devi’s eyes snapped to his, and she didn’t know what to say so she just grinned back.

“So this is the Devi we’ve heard so much about!” she heard a man’s voice from the kitchen. When she turned, her eyes met the warm smile of a tall Japanese man and a shorter blond woman kind brown eyes. She saw the resemblance between them and Paxton immediately.

“Mr. and Mrs. Hall-Yoshida, it’s nice to meet you,” she smiled. “I brought some assorted chocolates, my mom would kill me if I didn’t.”

“Yes! I remember Paxton mentioning you are an excellent guest,” Mrs. Hall-Yoshida said, graciously taking Devi’s gift. Paxton’s ears turned pink at his mother’s words.

“Devi, come see my acceptance letter!” her friend pulled her out of the awkward encounter.

Devi read the letter aloud and watched as Becca beamed at her. “This is seriously so cool. I can’t wait to see your work on runways, in stores, you’re one boss woman, Becca.”

“Now, come on, everybody sit. It’s Becca’s favorite tonight.”

“Tacos!” she cried cheerfully.

“We have black beans or tofu if you’re vegetarian though,” Mr. Hall-Yoshida assured Devi.

“I’m supposed to be,” she nodded, “but I’m not always great at doing what I’m told.”

Paxton chuckled at his plate as Trent nodded next to him. “Yeah, this girl tried to wrestle a coyote! She does not follow any rules.”

“Right, my boy took you to the hospital that night, right? Isn’t that when you first met?”

“No, Devi came over before that. They were already hanging out.”

“Yeah, we had to partner up with Trent for a school project,” Paxton said, glaring at his sister. “We spent some time together then too.”

“And then of course, Becca’s photoshoot. The reason we’re all here,” Devi said trying to divert attention from her and Paxton’s… relationship? Friendship? Were they even friends at this point? Ben’s party, the night they kissed, was more than three weeks ago, and Devi never brought up his voicemail after she and Ben got together. They hardly looked at each anymore, even when they were in the same class.

“Devi, we always have fun when you’re here,” Becca told her. “You and Paxton should hangout here so I can see you more.”

Devi felt herself wince. She glanced at Paxton, who was busying himself with constructing a taco with a practiced stare. Did Becca really not know they weren’t hanging out? That would certainly explain why she let her walk right into this awkward evening.

“I don’t see why it has to be me and Paxton, Becca,” she tried to say with good humor. “You and I are the ones that have fun. We’ll just let Paxton keep hanging out with Trent. Who needs him, right?”

Everyone at the table laughed, except Paxton. Devi noticed he’d not looked up from his plate since getting his taco prepared. Was he actually hurt? He was Paxton Hall-Yoshida! He could have any girl he wanted, why was he being so weird?

“Yeah, dude, you don’t need the ladies when you’ve got me,” Trent elbowed his friend. “Mrs. H-Y, will you pass the tofu?”

“I didn’t know you were vegetarian, Trent,” Mrs. Hall-Yoshida replied, passing the tofu down the table still.

“I’m not, but my mom is, and I just have mad cravings for tofu!”

Devi couldn’t help but smile then, and it looked like neither could Paxton. Who knew Trent would be such a good buffer? So many times over the last couple months, Devi wished that Trent was not around and she could just talk to Paxton without having ‘Coyote Girl’ shouted in her face. She knew he meant well, Trent was a nice guy once you moved past his inability to read a room. Besides, it looked like that very same shortcoming would be what made this evening bearable.

“Actually, I will take the black beans too. Thank you for thinking of me.”

“Of course! Honestly, I did not know that many of those practicing Hinduism are vegetarian. My father is Shinto as I was raised. Paxton said that vegetarianism isn’t required in Hindu culture, but it is thought to be a form of body purification. Is that true?”

Devi looked at Paxton again, though he continued to avoid her gaze. When had he learned all that? Did she even tell him she was Hindu? Sure, they talked the day of Ganesh puja, but did she ever actually tell him she was a practicing Hindu? Maybe she did. She did have a tendency to ramble and lose track of her sentences. She finally tore her gaze from him to meet his father’s eye again. “Yes, generally speaking. In my mother’s house, it is expected. It’s not as common as it used to be, but traditionally the consumption of meat is considered sinful and we’re to have a responsibility to limit harm to other life forms – ya know, cows, chickens, goat. Plants are alive too, but my mom doesn’t take to that argument well.”

The table laughed again, and Devi felt herself start to relax. This wasn’t so bad. So she and Paxton kissed one time. Things didn’t have to be weird. She could still be friends with Rebecca and enjoy time in the Hall-Yoshida house. This was nice.

“So how are things with Gross?” She finally heard Paxton’s voice again.

Fuck.

“Uh..” Devi hesitated. She looked at Rebecca, who looked confused at her brother’s question, and then back at Paxton. His face was hard, smooth.. effortlessly cool. “They’re good, actually. I don’t know if you remember, but I got in a really big fight with my mom a few weeks ago. Ben was really there for me. I guess it made sense all along for us to end up together. I’m really happy.” She punctuated each word with an equally cool gaze at the boy she’d pined for for years.

She saw Paxton’s jaw set. “Good. Glad to hear it. You deserve it.”

Silence descended. Devi felt her anxiety spike. Why did he have to bring up Ben? And why did it feel like everyone knew how uncomfortable the situation became when he did it? Why was he trying to ruin dinner?

“Oh, Gross!” Trent said after what felt like an hour of silence. “I saved that dude’s life once! Man, you should have seen the crater on his face that day. Lucky I was there.”

Devi nodded at Trent slowly, not even able to begin to decipher what he was talking about. “Excuse me, I need to use the bathroom.”

“You know where it is,” Paxton shot back, eyes on his plate again.

She didn’t respond. Instead she found herself shut in the bathroom with her back against the door as quickly as she could. A deep sigh escaped her as she pushed her hair out of her face. Maybe she should just go. This was a bad idea. She shouldn’t have come. You know what? No! she thought to herself. I am being a good friend to Becca. Paxton is the one who blew me off. If he’s mad about me being with Ben, then he should have thought of that before not speaking to me for a week.

Devi pulled her phone out of her pocket then and had several missed calls and text messages from Ben.  He wanted to know why she wasn’t answering. It didn’t take long for him to start spiraling. Had he said something to upset her at school today? Did she not need to study for geography? Was she with Fabiola and Eleanor? He thought they liked him, why wouldn’t they let her talk to him? Was she rethinking things with him? Devi rolled her eyes impulsively but felt guilty as soon as she realized. She typed him a quick reply before putting her phone away again.

*Mom took my phone away. I found it but I have to leave it here so I don’t get in bigger trouble. Talk to you tomorrow.*

After washing her hands, Devi returned to the table. Some of the tension seemed to dissipate in her absence, but she still consumed her meal quietly unless she was directly spoken to. It felt safer that way. Trent kept Becca and her parents in stitches, and it almost felt like Devi and Paxton weren’t even at the same table.

After dinner, Becca requested root beer floats for dessert, and was eagerly helping her father. Trent had needed to leave because he had to get his evening workout in. So Devi and Paxton were sat as far from each other as possible on the couch in the living room with the TV on. She was trying not to look at him but she couldn’t help notice his fingers tapping on his thigh. It took her straight back to riding in his car the night of Ben’s party. The night he kissed her – what, at the time, was the happiest moment of her life. Things were different now though. Right?

She looked to his face to find he was already looking back at her. He didn’t look as cold as he had during dinner. He looked vulnerable and there was an emotion in his eyes that she couldn’t pin point. She was going to ask if he was okay, but he spoke first.

“Can we go outside for a minute?”

She felt her eyes widen. “Uh yeah, sure. That’s cool,” she tried to sound aloof, but she failed. The corner of Paxton’s mouth kicked up in a smirk as he nodded briskly and stood.

As soon as the door was closed they both started speaking.

“Paxton, I’m sorry” –

“Look, Devi, I shouldn’t have” –

And then they stopped and looked at each other with what could only be described as matching stupid grins.

“I’ll start,” Paxton said reaching a hand out and grasping her shoulder gently, “but let’s sit down.”

She nodded, letting him guide her to the top step of the stoop where they’d sat together after Becca’s photoshoot. “Devi, I’m sorry. I’ve been a really shitty friend to you. I didn’t know how bad things were with your mom, but that doesn’t matter. I should have been there for you.”

“I should have told you about Ben. I didn’t mean to blow you off, but I didn’t know what to say. We hadn’t been talking, and so many things changed.” Did he flinch when she said that?

“You don’t need to do that. You don’t have anything to be sorry for. So we kissed one time, and now you have a boyfriend. If I wanted a piece of the Devi Vishwakumar, I should have taken it when I had the chance,” he winked.

“I didn’t think…” he grinned at her, much like he had when he found her kicking a locker over a month ago. “You’re joking again.”

“Let’s not let things get weird, okay?” he stood up, before offering her his hand. “At least not weirder than tonight has already been. We’re friends, right?”

“Right, why should things be weird?” She grabbed his hand and felt the electricity shoot through her. It was the same every time they touched. Sure in her mind, things didn’t need to be weird. She wasn’t sure her heart agreed.

Part 2 >>