#hawks: 'so anyway here's a bag with the remains of the man I killed inside'

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 240: PLIFF

Previously on BnHA: Shigaraki “Thanos” Tomura gleefully reduced an entire city to dust while laughing maniacally. You know, villain things. He almost turned Re-Destro to dust as well, but Re-Destro got around that by chopping off his own legs. Like it was no big. I still haven’t quite managed to process that yet. Anyway, so everyone was real impressed by Tomura at this point, because how could you not be, and to sum things up, Re-Destro basically accepted him as his lord and savior and handed the Meta Liberation Army over to him. So now Shigaraki Tomura, noted crazy person and heir to All for One’s empire, who has just upgraded his quirk so as to be able to destroy basically anything within an unknown range without even having to touch the thing directly, and who has also pledged to destroy the entire world, has an army. And he also has Gigantomachia, who was watching him all hearts-in-eyes while he did his thing. So all in all this has been a very productive arc for the League of Villains. And meanwhile, the League of Everyone Else may want to think about changing their name to “League of People About To Be Incredibly Fucking Screwed.”

Today on BnHA: The League of Villains, in what is clearly the best rebranding move since New Coke, renames itself the “Paranormal Liberation Front”, a.k.a. PLF, a.k.a. PLIFF because that’s what it instantly became in my head and you can’t stop me. Among PLIFF’s Finest is newly initiated member Hawks, whose mystery bag is finally confirmed to have contained exactly what we all thought it was going to contain. I don’t even want to talk about that. I’m still in denial. But also weirdly thrilled. I’m terrible. Anyway, so Hawks is all “:) we’re fucked,” agreeing with the consensus the general fandom has come to over the past week, and palling around with his new best friend Dabi as he frantically tries to come up with some kind of plan. Maybe the heroes can try rebranding themselves as “the Supernatural Emancipation Cavalry.” That wouldn’t really solve anything, but it’d be funny to watch the villains come to realize they’re being mocked. Sorry but y’all brought this on yourselves.

(All comments are my unspoiled reactions from my initial readthrough of the chapter. I did a quick edit for grammar and clarity immediately afterward, and added a few ETAs in the process, but aside from that there are no changes.)  

so I received an ask from a very kind anon warning me to be careful of spoilers for this chapter. thank you, anon! rest assured that I have been very cautious, and am pleased to inform everyone that I’m diving in spoiler-free this week. so bring on your Kacchan hero names, your Best Jeanist heads, your new Deku quirks, and whatever other twists you want to toss my way, manga. but especially that first one. this arc has been fantastic, but now that it’s wrapping up, I miss my kids and I would like to check in with them soon. they grow up so fast and time is precious

so apparently the title for this chapter is “Power”, which could mean lots of things, but I imagine it’s not something that bodes well for our heroes. honestly does anything bode well for them at this point. they’re not having much luck on the boding front

oh cool, a time jump! so this is apparently now one week after “the deadly battle.” wow, way to sum everything up in the blandest terms possible while still being accurate. like, yeah, that is what it was, but somehow it doesn’t quite communicate the full magnitude of what actually went down, you know?

anyway so the town basically looks like it got hit by a fucking meteor

new crack theory that a time-traveling Shigaraki Tomura is what actually killed the dinosaurs

wow would you fucking look at this

I guess this is the BnHA version of “an unfortunate training exercise”

also I like how they didn’t think it would be believable that one sleepy boi could cause all of this destruction, so they amped it up to twenty fucking guys instead. sob. why did they even bother giving Tomura an army. he is an army

lol the bullshit continues

“reporting to you live from Deika City, an innocent and wholesome country town in no way affiliated with an extreme right-wing quirk supremacist movement, where citizens recently found themselves victims of an entirely unprovoked attack by no fewer than twenty, and definitely more than six, villains. the brave citizens proceeded to fight them off, and definitely killed them all and didn’t surrender to them and elect their leader as their new god. also the president of Detnerat just happened to be there. just coincidentally. he definitely was not the one who instigated the entire thing. when asked for comment, Mr. Yotsubashi responded, quote, ‘nonsense, I’m no hero. would you call a man a hero just because he fought off an army of villains alone and selflessly sacrificed his own legs to ensure that justice prevailed? would you call that heroic? poppycosh. that’s just the kind of man I am. I wouldn’t call myself brave. ‘humble,’ maybe. ‘handsome’, perhaps. but a hero? no. I’m just an everyday, all-around good type of person, that’s all.’ so there you have it. truly a courageous figure. a gallant example of truly stellar fortitude and virtue. we need more Yotsubashi Rikiyas in these trying times. back to you, Jeff”

anyway, so the media in BnHA. fairly gullible, huh?

so now the report is concluding with a statement that the investigation is still ongoing. uh huh. damn they really got away scot-free with all this, huh

and we’re cutting to a close-up of sushi! oh my god. Compress have your dreams finally come true at last

yesssss oh my god. I’m so happy for him

(ETA: on my second read-through I paid attention to try to see whether or not Compress had finally gotten a new robot arm, but it’s impossible to tell. he’s only using his right hand here, and later on when he goes on stage with the rest of them he’s wearing his usual trenchcoat and gloves. I’m just gonna assume he finally got the upgrade he wanted, though. nice to see you so content, Mister I-Ran-Around-A-Lot.)

excuse me, what, Dabi? he didn’t even do anything?? as opposed to you, who basically just set yourself on fire and glared at Frogurt for half a dozen chapters?? don’t hurt yourself climbing back down from that high horse you punk

lol what

I don’t even have to scroll down to the rest of this page to immediately know this is some bullshit. she’s not dead. out of everyone in the League she’s probably third most important after Tomura and Mr. You-Didn’t-Even-Do-Anything above. her quirk is too plot-critical for her to actually be dead. you’re not gonna kill off the ONLY GIRL IN THE LEAGUE OF VILLAINS, either. Horikoshi who do you even think you’re fooling

ah, yep

Togaaaaaaaaa omg. I’d hug you but you’d stab me. but I’m so happy to see you my precious baby girl

and it actually makes sense for Twice to be mourning the clone, though, and I’m glad they showed it. because he of all people understands that the clone is the person to at least some degree. like, it’s nice that he doesn’t just view them as disposable and he respects them. he’s so nice omfg

anyway so it looks like he’s back to being crazy though

oh well, it was nice while it lasted. at least he doesn’t appear traumatized anymore. and he has a boyfriend now too. where is Giran anyway

now fucking Skeptic is walking in like he’s on the set of a fucking sitcom

[canned audience laughter]

nice touch on the following page with Hanabata starting to refer to Re-Destro as “The Supreme...” before catching himself and amending it to just “Re-Destro”

oh wow

damn, LoV, y’all went from poverty straight to the .01%. talk about an upgrade

oh my god there’s a secret passage

oh my god it leads to a secret basement

trying not to think about the last time we were in a secret villain basement. this isn’t like that. relax. that arc is over now. deep breaths

holy shit

this is like the fucking Mines of Moria. complete with a Balrog. jesus christ

omg look who got himself a BRAND NEW SUIT AND TIE ENSEMBLE oh shiiit

is that a fucking fur-lined coat. Shigaraki Tomura has officially upgraded to KHR Villain status. what a little shit. I adore you, you son of a bitch

and I thought he destroyed all the hands?? come on dude, I know it’s like your signature look, but I was hoping we were going in a different direction from here on out. ah well

wow, Horikoshi

just once. just once I would like this man to leave a plothole unaddressed for more than one page. god I love this manga

anyway so they’re fully lampshading the fact that this one hand somehow miraculously survived, and they’re all “I guess it’s his trademark, huh?” yep, that’s right. his lewk. now be quiet, you two. which of us is doing the recap here

so now RD is up on stage showing off the weirdest fucking wheelchair I’ve ever seen, and singing Tomura’s praises

it’s remarkable how quickly his ego adapted to his brand new role as head of Tomura’s PR. he almost seems to be enjoying this more than when he was the leader

oh shit??

A NEW NAME?? oh my god. edge of my seat. can’t wait. take it away boys

LOOOOOOOL what

sob this makes it sound like they do ghost investigations. is there a League of Villains Buzzfeed Unsolved AU. this is what happens when you put the otaku in charge of the name

just. why paranormal. they thought it sounded cool?? and am I really supposed to type out PLF and not pronounce it like “pliff” in my head moving forward?? yeah, that’s not happening. you guys are now PLIFF. congratulations

thank god they’ve still got Tomura to lend legitimacy to this whole ridiculous operation. god, there’s something I never thought I’d say. Tomura why are you now the part of the League -- excuse me, PLIFF -- that I actually take the most seriously. god

y’all heard the man. whatever we want. this is happening. just remember kid, you gave me permission

holy shit you guys is that motherfucking Carvel!?!? I was staring at the panel all “WHO IS THIS” and wondering if they’d somehow brought Kizuki back to life, oh my god. I’m fucking dying send help. he looks like Galaxy Express 999. my brain is short-circuiting

anyway so everyone is all HOORAY WE LOVE THIS and they’re all cheering

HOMBGLKDF

DSLFKSHDLGK HEY BOY, HOW ARE YOU LIKING BEING A MEMBER OF THIS NEW HERE VILLAIN CULT. WHERE’S THE FUCKING BAG, HAWKS

SDFKSJDLFKSDLKFH A FLASHBACK AHHHHHH

I CAN’T TURN THE PAGE OH GOD NO SOMEBODY ELSE DO IT

OH MOTHERFUCKING SHIT

my jaw just. fucking. -- -----------

okay Hawks. fucking explain. how did you do it. is it a fake?? surely it’s not the real deal?? oh god, the memes have now become terribly real. I have no choice but to embrace this with even more stupid jokes and memes as a coping mechanism or I’m gonna lose it

but for real, they didn’t seriously do my boy Jeanist like that. Paramount Optimal Jeanist did not survive a point-blank attack from motherfucking All For One just to get shanked by Hawks so that he could get good with PLIFF, only to be, and I quote, “too late...!”

(ETA: and on readthrough #2, Dabi does indeed bring up the fact that this might not actually be Jeanist’s corpse. “setting aside the issue of whether he is who you say he is...” so even he acknowledges that shenanigans could be afoot.

but he seems convinced it’s a real body at the very least. though did it never occur to you that he could have just picked it up from the morgue, dude? that’s gonna be my go-to theory for now at any rate.)

is now a good time for me to bring up something I’ve been wondering about for a while, which is how Bakugou is going to take this? yes, Bakugou. “okay makeste, I know he’s your favorite and I know you miss him, but what kind of mental cartwheels are you doing in order to make this situation with Hawks and PLIFF somehow relate to Bakugou Katsuki, whom we last saw twenty fucking chapters ago, and who has absolutely nothing to do with this?”

well I’m glad you asked, and you see, it’s because (a) the internship, and (b) because we already know Katsuki blames himself for at least one hero’s downfall as a result of what happened in Kamino, and I could easily see him having a similar response to Best Jeanist’s injury and subsequent disappearance. like, we already know this shit is all over the news. and Bakugou knows Jeanist personally. and so now what with him being missing, I can’t help but wonder if he’ll blame himself again for being the reason Jeanist was there at Kamino, and lost a lung, and so forth

and I realize this tangent is coming sort of out of left field, but seeing as this arc is finally wrapping up, and we can expect to cut back to the U.A. kids again soon, I just figured I’d bring it up now, because we’ll see if I’m right or not shortly

anyway. so let’s get back on topic. best dead Jeanist. oh god

but it seems like it did, at least, finally convince Dabi of Hawks’s sincere villainous intentions. so we have that one minor win, I guess. congratulations Hawks, now you know about the secret villain basement and their new rebranding. was it worth it you bastard

oh shit. actually, maybe it was. because now he understands just how incredibly screwed they are sob

so he doesn’t know for sure about the Noumu yet. so Tomura still has that little ace up his sleeve. fucking great

but him knowing about the Detnerat thing is big, though. so now the heroes know not to trust any of their equipment, or any of their lackeys like fucking Slidin’ Go. that’s something, at least

and you gotta love the whole “equal to, if not greater than” bit, sob. never in my life have I ever seen something so egregiously understated. “Shigaraki might be more powerful than the heroes at this point” yeah, you think!? god

holy shit Re-Destro calm the fuck down

Tomura’s telling him to get lost, and he’s immediately making himself scarce lol. good riddance

and Tomura is now kneeling dramatically and pounding his fist on the floor. okay

hey

I take offense, sir. “League of Villains” had a timeless air about it. and more importantly, you couldn’t abbreviate it to the sound that someone makes when they plop down tiredly onto a couch

oh shit!!!!

THIS LAST PAGE HAD BETTER BE A TERRIFYING PANEL OF THE HIGH END NOUMUS, OMG. I’M HOLDING MY BREATH

GODDAMMIT IT’S JUST ANOTHER SEXY CLOSEUP OF TOMURA’S FACE

I mean, can you actually call it that at this point? can you actually “grant” something to someone if they already have more of it than they know what to do with?

but I mean, we know what he really means though, so fair enough

oh ffs now he’s saying “but first there’s something I’d like you to do for me” oh my god enough with these side quests!

he wants him to transport something, apparently. ARE YOU HATCHING SOME NEW SCHEME oh gosh

oh my god and meanwhile Hotwings is becoming canon right before our eyes holy shit

of course!! he’s fucking thrilled!! everything is just!! so great!! right now!! :)!!!!!

oh my god Hawks

“Endeavor, and everyone” I see what you did there kid

(ETA: and as far as I recall, Endeavor doesn’t even know about his undercover mission yet. I wonder how he’s going to react when he finds out. your adopted son is now best friends with your presumed-dead son! and in mortal danger omg.)

wow. wow. and that’s the end of the chapter. fucking shit

so! lots to process! Hawks really did it! the absolute madman!! and Dabi fucking loves him now, which is great, if you like things that inevitably end in tragedy. then that’s great for you. but otherwise I guess it’s not so great

so I wonder if our next arc will be the Undercover Hawks Antics arc, or if we’ll be getting back to Deku and the gang. I’m guessing the latter because it’s been a while, but it’s definitely exciting to see this particular plotline finally advancing and becoming more intricate

so basically I have no idea what to expect next week. which is amazing. I’m so fucking excited. now if Horikoshi could just leave us all a little pity disclaimer clarifying that no Jeanists were actually harmed in the making of this chapter and that it was all CGI or some shit, that would be great :/

[hopelesshawks]

Official Accounts Part 27- Think Fast

Summary: (y/n) was perfectly happy remaining anonymous, even if her best friends were all pro heroes and she worked under THE Hawks. Handling the technical aspects of hero work from the background suited her just fine, thank you very much. That goes out the window when suddenly her twitter blows up thanks Denki and the famed no. 2 hero is asking her to run his own official twitter as a result

If you don’t want to see Official Accounts content blacklist #hopelessoa

Warnings for alcohol and recreational drug use

Masterlist

Hawks watches somewhat apprehensively as you put solo cups, mixers, and multiple handles of hard liquor out on your counter. “You look more terrified right now than I’ve ever seen you before facing a villain,” you point out. “I trained my whole life to fight villains. This is new. How many people did you invite?” He asks incredulously. “Just the Baddies,” you shrug. “All this is for just seven people?” “Technically all this and more, Kacchan’s bringing beer and Mina’s bringing white claws. Don’t worry we won’t finish it all!” you assure him before briefly pausing. “We probably won’t finish it all,” you correct yourself. At seeing the continued hesitation in Hawks’ face you stop your preparations for a moment and turn to him. “Hey I can call this whole thing off if you want,” you offer, but he shakes his head. “No, no don’t do that. Beneath the nerves I’m excited I promise. Plus what would people think if the great Hawks chickened out of a simple little party?” “I’m more worried about Keigo right now than Hawks.” “Keigo will also be fine.” “Ok, but you are more than welcome to stop drinking whenever. We won’t pressure you to get drunk if you don’t want to.” “I am older than you, yknow. You don’t have to baby me.” “Older yes but I, dear Keigo, am the more experienced and wiser one here.” “Well then, oh wise one, why don’t you show me the proper way to take tequila shots.” “I’ll grab the limes.”

You and Keigo might have gotten the tiniest bit carried away with your pregame so by the time the rest of your friends come knocking at your door you’ve already got a buzz going. As you swing the door open Denki and Mina are grinning back at you, Denki with an impressive bag of weed and Mina with the promised white claws, as the other three wave from behind them. “Let’s get fucking plus ultra in this bitch!” Mina yells and the rest of you reply with similar enthusiasm as you usher everyone inside. “Hawks and I already started so you guys have to catch up,” you tell them as you unlock your phone and toss it to Kirishima to pick the music.

At the start of the night you made a point to stick close to Keigo so he’d always have a familiar face to rely on if he got overwhelmed or didn’t feel like talking anymore, but as the drinks kept flowing you were delighted to find he seemed to be doing just fine on his own. In fact, Denki genuinely seemed keen on getting to know him more and the rest of your friends were just as welcoming. Soon it felt just like any of you all’s usual hangs and it wasn’t much longer after that that everyone was properly drunk. Soon Mina had somehow convinced Bakugo and Kirishima to back her up in an impromptu round of karaoke while Shinso and Hawks watched on from the sidelines. Denki sidles up next to you, throwing one arm around your shoulder while holding a perfectly rolled joint in his free hand. “Shall we head to the balcony?” he asks with a grin. You throw one more glance Hawks’ way to double check he’s doing well and when you see him burst into laughter as Bakugo and Mina fight over something inane, you feel something warm spark in your chest. “We shall,” you confirm before letting him guide you over to the glass door and opening it with a flourish.

There’s a chill in the air but the alcohol flowing through your veins means you barely feel it as you step onto the balcony and lean across the railing, Denki joining you as he pulls a lighter from his pocket. He places the joint in his mouth and then lights it with the kind of ease that comes from experience before taking a large hit and passing it to you. The two of you pass the joint back and forth a few times before Denki finally speaks up. “So how’s the little arrangement going so far?” he asks. “Better than expected to be honest.” “Have you guys talked about what happened yet?” “Not explicitly. He told me... a lot... about his past so I kinda get it now? but not about the night it went to shit.” Denki hums in acknowledgment. “How are you doing in general after everything that happened?” he asks. “I’m fine Denki.” “(Y/n)...” “I mean it. Don’t worry about little ol me.” “I’ll always worry about you.” “And I, you. Now stop killing the vibe. This is supposed to be a party remember?” Denki laughs at that as you move to sit on the railing of the balcony.

Keigo has to admit he’s pleasantly surprised by how tonight is going. He had worried about dropping into the middle of your friend group and spending the whole night feeling like an intruder but instead all of you have welcomed him with open arms in spite of everything. Between that and the alcohol he’s feeling more uninhibited now than he ever has his entire life. “I should’ve done this sooner,” he declares as he takes another sip from his solo cup. Next to him Shinso laughs, “damn right you should’ve.”

“Hey Kacchan!!” he suddenly hears you call. When he looks over he notices you sitting on the railing of the balcony. That can’t be safe, you have to be at least as drunk as he is and the joint you’d been sharing with Denki has burned pretty low so you’re definitely high too. “Think fast!” you shout and then you’re letting go and leaning backwards until you’re falling, the bright grin on your face never faltering. The blood in Hawks’ veins runs cold as he watches you disappear from sight. The muscles in his back twitch on instinct but barely any of his feathers have grown back yet so he. can’t. save. you. He can’t save you and he’s starting to panic when he notices Bakugo launching himself over the railing, the sound of explosions loud in the quiet night. Hawks jumps as he feels a hand land on his shoulder and turns to find Shinso giving him a reassuring smile. “Sorry should’ve warned you. She does that a lot, especially when she’s drunk,” Shinso tells him. “What? Falls off buildings?” “Yea pretty much.” “What?” “It’s a trust thing. The first time she did it was to prove a point. She knew he’d catch her. Now I think she just likes the feeling of falling while crossed.”

Bakugo reappears over the balcony with you giggling on his back completely unharmed and Hawks releases a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding. “That’s a lot of trust. When’d she start doing that?” Hawks asks. “I’m actually not sure,” Shinso replies, “yo Mina!” “What?” “What year did (y/n) start the whole ‘think fast’ thing? Second or third?” Mina walks over to join the conversation, plopping down next to Shinso. “Uhh I think it was third year after they started dating” she says. Shinso shoots her a look and elbows her but it’s too late. “They dated?” Hawks asks. Mina’s eyes widen in realization but it’s too late to take it back so she instead says “I’m gonna get more to drink!” and jets back off to the kitchen. Shinso rolls his eyes. “Yea, they did. In the end they decided they were better off as friends though, especially because Bakugo was a lot less mature then.” “That’s why she gets away with calling him Kacchan.” “Yea, probably. That was years ago now though, I don’t think anything’s happened between them since. I wouldn’t worry about it,” Shinso assures him before excusing himself to go talk to Denki.

Hawks knows it’s not his place but he can’t help but feel jealous now watching you tease Bakugo about getting slower as he lectures you on being an idiot. “I’m not an idiot!” you pout. “What else would you call someone that intentionally falls off a building?” he seethes. “Was there any chance you would have let me hit the ground?” “Obviously not, dumbass.” “Well there you go! Perfectly safe!” Bakugo sputters, his cheeks reddening, before finally grumbling “I’m getting another drink,” before walking away. This only makes you laugh harder. “Love you Kacchan,” you tease after him. “Fuck you!” he shouts back.

He’s one of your best friends. He’s one of your best friends. He’s one of your best friends. The phrase plays on a loop in Keigo’s head in a desperate attempt to quash the jealousy burning through his chest but he can’t help it. How long had the two of you dated? “Longer than the two of you did,” his brain unhelpfully supplies. His thoughts are interrupted when Kirishima drops down next to him with two beer cans in hand. “You look like you’re pretty deep in your head and (y/n) would kill me if I let you stay that way. Ever shotgunned a beer before?” Kirishima asks. “I didn’t realize I was that easy to read,” Hawks says as he takes one of the offered beers. “Typically you’re not. Watching you in action? You’re totally inscrutable dude, it’s super manly! But when you’re with friends you shouldn’t have to worry about that. Anyway, let’s not talk heavy shit man, am I teaching you to shotgun or not?” “Fuck it, why not.” “That’s the spirit!”

The party eventually reaches its natural conclusion as exhaustion starts to overtake even the effects of alcohol. Not to mention, your friends are keenly aware that unlike you and Hawks they actually have to get up and be out for work tomorrow. Hawks isn’t surprised when you give each of your friends a tight hug goodbye. He is surprised when the same offer is extended to him. It’s almost scary how perceptive your friends can be. When Mina’s hands get a little too close to where his wings should be he can’t help but flinch and immediately she adjusts. The rest of your friends make a point to avoid the area. Bakugo and Kirishima are the last to leave and it takes everything in Hawks not to let his jealousy show as you hug Bakugo goodbye. He’s once again shocked when Bakugo goes to hug him but he soon realizes that it’s not necessarily done to be friendly. “Take good fucking care of her bird brain. Cause if you don’t? I will,” he whispers harshly. As the two pull away from each other their eyes lock in a silent challenge until Kirishima calls from the hallway “Bakubro let’s go! Taxi’s here!” “I’m coming Shitty Hair relax!” he shouts back before finally breaking eye contact and heading out the door with one final wave in your direction.

Author’s Note: The party was honestly pretty built around the “think fast” scene. Once that idea came to mind it refused to leave. The Bakugo stuff well 👀 what can I say I like ✨drama✨ also I felt a little bad that Bird Boy stole the fic I was gonna write for Bakugo from him. Originally I was gonna have Hawks’ jealousy be unfounded but then I saw an opportunity and decided to run with it oops

Taglist [open]: @cathy8taffy @katzurras @grumpyfroggies @captaincyberqueen @itskindofafairything @420-uwu @someweirdshitman @oliviasslut @the-adzukibean @a-fucking-sero-kinnie @ladyzayismultifandom

[hitsuackerman]

Unpredictable (Overhaul x Reader) pt.19

a/n: so... uhh... nothing much happens here but the last part is worth it :’) i guess? hope ya’ll like this nonetheless! 

warnings: this cannot be read solo

Links: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13, part 14, part 15, part 16, part 17, part 18, part 20

Masterlist to my other fics: here :)

Overhaul’s waiting list: @jjk-biased @infinite-universe-love @dirtypride @blackymomo03 @azzie @purple-rabanito​ @meximorrita @awesomeee19​​ @celestial-kanzakii​ @laure-lo​ @team-wang-puppy​ @aydience-world​ @choros-main-hoe​ @colorseeingchick​  @but-kairis-not-that-smart (i cant seem to tag again :( hope this lands in your timelines!)

Two days since that fated encounter with Chronostasis, you were now left with a vacant rest day. And where better place to spend it than with Dr. Hanayaka. Setting an appointment with him, as he liked to call it, you were tasked to help with the blood pressure for each patient he had. Luckily, his schedule wasn’t that straining.

“So you mean to say, his henchman met with you in secret?” Gei asked and raised an eyebrow. With his stethoscope resting on his shoulder and white coat on, it was sometimes hard to believe that this flamboyant man was a well respected doctor. “And handed you trash man’s sim card?”

“Yeah. I’ve already checked the contents of the sim and there’s not a lot to go on.” Aside from your messages, the contents of his inbox were that of an average man’s. Expecting some tea about his trade or even important numbers of other villains, you had to think whether or not Chrono deleted some or not.

“And what about that plan of yours, hmm?” Gei fixed his eyelashes before staring back at you. “What if it backfires and Chrono takes the blame?”

“He won’t. My instructions were clear and I set a time frame as well. Just something to please the heroes for setting me up.”

“You movin over to the dark side, baby girl?”

“Just balancing things out.” You shrugged. “Levi made it clear that they shouldn’t interfere with my relationship with Overhaul. Even though I’m on justice’s side, I still want to tip the scales a bit due to personal reasons.”

“Wouldn’t your badge and title be removed if they found out? And why in Todrick’s name are you so chill with this topic?! Are you certain you don’t have a bug on you?” Your friend eyed you down so quickly. Worried that policemen might end up barging inside his office.

“Don’t worry. I’m wearing new clothes so there’s no way they can. Besides, I’m being as cautious as ever. Seriousness aside, I do have some information you might want to feast on.” You smirked at the mental image of a maskless Chrono.

“Spill…” Gei shifted in his seat and leaned in closer. The look on your face only meant one thing.

“Okay, so Overhaul’s right hand man was the one who met me right? Well~ He took off his mask and I will have to admit the man looked hella fine~”

“Describe! Describe!”

“For starters, he has bluish-gray eyes. Though he looks like he wants to kill a person right there and then, he probably could since his jaw was rather prominent. His voice without the mask is different too.” You watched as Gei listened with such focus. “But, if I were to be honest, describing him doesn’t do him good. He looks really handsome.”

“Why is it always the villains who look good?” Gei commented with a pout. “Hawks aside, because that man is something else, but they just hit different you know?”

“That’s true. Shame they have to wear those masks, though.”

“On the contrary, I think it’s good that they do. Otherwise they’d have to endure the wrath of fan girls.”

“Right. Also feels good when they trust you enough to show what’s behind the mask.” Nodding at your own statement, the memory of having lunch with Overhaul came back. With no given warning, he took off his mask and casually drank water. Realizing that he had done it on purpose, a tiny smile formed on your mouth.

“If you miss him that bad, just call him.”

“He changed numbers and I’m not that desperate to ask Chrono for it. Nao said in due time he’ll contact me but the chances of that are negative.”

“Honey, it’s the modern era. Women aren’t as shy as they were before. If you want something, go and get it. If it is a guy’s new number, then go ahead. It’s not just men who make the first move. And besides, I think Overhoe would be surprised if you just suddenly ring his doorbell.”

“You do realize, I do not have the same confidence as you.”

“Fake it till you make it, boo.” He snapped his fingers in a z-formation.

“You’ve been watching Soopernatural again, haven’t you?”

“Okay, first off, Jenred Padackles is a god and I would worship his feet. Second, that show has references to everything and you can’t deny that.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Standing up from the sofa, you stretched your limbs. “Anyway, I gotta scram.”

“Where you headin’ off to missy?”

“I have to meet up with Nao regarding the Fukuo Kai case.”

“But it’s your day off. Get a life and do something else other than work, (n/n).” Gei threw a pen to your direction but you dodged it effortlessly. “Don’t make me tell your father.”

“It’s only for a few minutes. It’s in preparation for tomorrow.” Not bothering to wait, you exited the room and sofly closed the doors to his office. Time spent with Gei was always an eye opener. However, it still wasn’t enough for you to stoop so low and ring his doorbell.

Making your way out of the hospital, you took a quick stop to the vending machines and chose a cold cafe au lait. Perfect for the hot and humid weather Japan had to offer. Feeling the cold liquid running down your throat was amazing and within seconds, you downed the whole drink. Tossing the empty bottle to the recycle bin, a gust of wind caused you to lose balance.

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes.”

“I have a meeting to attend to Hawks.” Hawks took his visors off and ruffled his wings. Offering to buy him a drink, he chose a tetra pack of  apple juice. Walking to the vacant bench, you followed him and decided that perhaps his visit would be worth it. “So what did the bird hear today?”

“Twice and Toga Himiko.”

“League of-” Then it hit you. “I see. Since when?”

“Yesterday. One of my informants saw them entering the base and left late at night. They didn’t look too happy about it, though.” Lowering his headphones, he ruffled his hair and stared at the clear blue skies. “Do what you will with this information. Just thought I’d let you know.”

“How and why do you even bother?”

“I work for the HPSC dove. If I don’t want them getting in my head, I gotta kick their crotches first.”

“That’s not the best analogy.”

“Still works though.” He winked and put on his headphones and visors back. Standing up, he offered a hand and you accepted it. Tailing you, Hawks was now opening the door for your car. “And one more thing, another of my birdies caught the scent of the quirk erasing bullets nearing its completion stages. Probably 80% now.”

“That’s fast.” You had to admit.

“Heard he’s been pissed. Be careful baby bird.” Hawks closed your door and saluted before flying off.

80%? That was enough information to speed up the Shie Hassaikai raid. Reaching out for your bag, you took the burner phone you recently purchased and reread each message the both of you exchanged. With two League of Villains now part of the yakuza, the possibility of casualties was much higher now.

Within minutes, you were now on the road. Fingers tightly wrapping the steering wheel. Your thumb bouncing with growing guilt at choosing to hide what Hawks had just said. Of course this wasn’t to ensure his victory, it was to even the field, right? It was the pettiness taking over you and Nighteye going against his words. It had to be.

Turning towards the precinct, you saw your designated parking area. The basement parking was a bit crowded today.

Heading towards the meeting room Tsukauchi had prepared for the small info sharing, you greeted fellow coworkers and kept conversation till you disappeared around the corner. Not too long after, you were now fiddling with your fingers. Basking in the silence till the doors opened revealing your partner and Shinezu. Both men took their seats and commenced the meeting.

“So, Shinezu will be tagging along.” He nodded at your coworker who seemed to be trembling at the thought. “It’ll do you good, Shinez. Trust me.”

“I-I know, Tsukau-kun.” He adjusted his tie, loosening it a bit. “I just think I’m not cut out for this mission you know? I do better behind the scenes.”

“While I believe that’s true, the 4th division works best when you’re around.”

“That’s true.” You agreed. Shinezu may not be the most social cookie out there but his brain was close to Namase. He also had the knack of coming up with solutions when things went wrong. All he needed was to amp his social skills. “We all know the 4th division leader is weak for you.”

“Not t-true.”

“All too true. You’ll be fine, Shinez. Have I ever lied to you?”

When the raven-haired man finally nodded his head, Tsukauchi cleared his throat and relayed the plans for tomorrow. It was the standard undercover data gathering in your books.

“So, to recap, the 4th division will be handling the snooping and we’ll remain on guard should all else fail?” You repeated the information given. Tsukauchi scratched his chin and nodded. Confirming that you had fully understood his message. “All this should happen within 5 hours. Got it. That’s quite cramped but manageable.”

“5 hours was the only allotted time I could fit in.” He scratched his nape and looked away. “You were right when I had to take it slow with my cases.”

“I’m not one to comment~” Waving the conversation aside, you stood up and the others followed.

With the short meeting now over, Tsukauchi and you were now seated in the break room. Cups of coffee present as you exchanged more information about your days and current mission. For a brief moment, despite him not being a part of the Shie Hassaikai Raid, you wanted to pour every single information you had just gained from Hawks. The lingering guilt was much more present now.

“You’re spacing out.” He snapped his fingers in front of you. “You alright?”

“Aside from the growing problem of trashman, I’m fine. Just a lot on my mind.” Taking a sip from your coffee, the usual taste of bitterness was strong today. “Nothing to worry about~”

“You should go home, (n/n). I already took up a portion of your time. Any more and I might drown from embarrassment.”

“That’s gross. Even coming from you.” Kicking him from under the table, the two of you laughed before chugging the remaining drops of coffee. “I will take that offer though. Need me some beauty sleep before shit happens again. See ya!”

Hours had passed and you were now stuffing your face with chips. He was right when he said you had purchased too much but you weren’t complaining. The movie playing now was one of your favorites, Prisoner. Gake Jyllenhall was divine in this movie. It was always the twist of the movie that kept you watching it over and over again.

“I wonder if we had watched this… would the wall pinning  happen?” You thought out loud. Shaking your thoughts away from him, you stopped the movie and stored the chips.

Now that you were settled in bed, Overhaul’s jacket rested on top of you. By now, his scent had disappeared and was now replaced by yours. Grabbing your phone, you opened the messaging app and clicked on a certain conversation. Rereading his messages was not the best idea but at least you would be able to relive whatever memories you had created.

Glancing at your desk calendar, in just two months time, you would meet him again. Would things still be the same? Or would things go back to the way they were? Tucking your phone under the unused pillow, you willed yourself to sleep and surprisingly succeeded.

Waking up not so refreshed happened again. But, nothing out of the ordinary. Not being a morning person, you dragged your body away from the bed and began the necessary clothes. Deciding to just buy breakfast, it took you less than an hour to lock your doors and head over to the parking lot.

Making your way up the steps, you met up with Shinezu.

“You look like shit, Shinez.” You teased him. “Take a chill pill.”

“I already did. But it’s still not working. This would be the first case in a while where I’ll interact with others.” Leading the way, the both of you were now walking through the empty hallways. The sounds of your footsteps muffled by the cheap carpeted floors. “How do you guys even manage to survive situations like these?”

“By taking it one step at a time~” Not the best advice for someone who’s socially challenged but it is what it is.

Opening the doors for you, the both of you entered the room and took your designated seats. A bunch of people from the 4th division were now present. Tsukauchi had not yet arrived but it was still early so it was excusable. Exchanging a few small talk, you caught up with what the 4th division was up to till the doors finally opened.

“Good morning everyone.” Tsukauchi greeted. Feet glued to his spot. His eyesight focused on you. “Before we head out, we have a special guest joining us.”

“Holy shit.” Shinezu uttered under his breath.

- - - - -

a/n: shits bout to go down again! I would like to take this time to thank each one of you who take the time to read this! Unpredictable was supposedly a 10 chapter story but we bout to reach 20 now! i cant really respond to your comments as much but i read all of ‘em and they always make my day :’) my schedule has just been very hectic these days huhu and yeas that ends my rant~ see ya’ll next week! :* and yes, the waiting list is still open :)

[crqstalite]

crossroad.

a majority of this was done during a writing sprint (edit, half of it was) but i couldn’t just let it fade away! so instead, because i’m still upset about anders [and i miss bethany + fem!hawke], here’s a post!da2 work for you and me.

word count: 6,083.

-

“are you afraid? of what lays after all of...this?” bethany’s voice. reyna tries not to jump, but inevitably, she does. her sister is no longer in her circle robes, instead dressed down with her hair tied back, “the gallows are gone, the circle is gone, meredith is dead, orsinio is dead...”

“please, bethany. for the love of andraste do not panic.” reyna tries not to snap at her, but she does it anyway, picking through what things she can fit in her pack. the red scarf she’s donned around her neck comes undone, and she pulls it away roughly before shoving another shirt away, “donnic and aveline are staying here, and you’re staying with them. you’ll be perfectly safe, there’s no reason to be afraid.”

“i-” bethany hesitates, then resigns to sitting on the bed, picking at her sleeve, “i asked if you were afraid, not what i was going to do after all of this.”

“you know what i intend to do,” reyna yanks the suitcase out from under the bed roughly, the latches clicking open as she flicks a bandaged hand over one.

“running away from kirkwall into the night isn’t a plan, rey.” bethany responds in a nagging tone tinged with genuine concern, folding her legs on the bed, “it’s an escape route.”

“and that’s exactly what i need, whether you like it or not,” reyna responds, folding a shirt away into the bag at her side. she’s avoiding bethany’s deep brown eyes, the same ones that she knows will be crying out to keep her from leaving, or to force her to leave sooner. but reyna has made her decision, she can’t come back from this, “the templars will sniff me out soon enough. and because they can’t use me as some example of a mage gone rogue with the chantry’s brand, they’ll kill me for this.”

bethany doesn’t answer after that, and they sit in silence.  she feels bad about talking to her like that, but she has to. bethany is twenty five now, she isn’t a child like when they first arrived in kirkwall. she can handle herself, should anyone give her trouble and aveline isn’t around to protect her. 

it wasn’t an option she liked, but she trusted aveline with her life -- no matter how much they squabbled before over morals and reyna’s own questionable actions towards the templars as of recently. bethany would be safer here under the protection of the guard captain than with her on the road.

“you’ve been here for two days, and you said you’d leave earlier this week.” bethany’s voice is quiet when she speaks up again, the jangle of keys in her hand when she gives them to her, “what are you waiting for?”

reyna bitterly chuckles, “are you trying to get rid of me too, dear sister?” she asks, remembering how aveline had advised the same thing to her. kirkwall was still reeling after she’d hidden out with the vallens for a bit to let it blow over long enough to trek home without suspicion. the others...they’d be safe. they couldn’t go after fenris, they wouldn’t know of his involvement and merrill and isabela would be out of town within the month on isabela’s ship. and varric?

varric always had a way out. she didn’t know how this time, everyone knew he was involved with her, but he assured her he’d find a way.

she still sat up, waiting for the cellar door to open those two nights she spent in her own home since then. and yet...it doesn’t. it remains closed, and locked.

did he wear it that night?

“no! no of course not, reyna if i could go with you--” bethany cuts herself off, a frown on her face when reyna rises from her knees, pushing the half empty case back under the bed, “you know that i would. i just...don’t want you caught. everything is so...crazy right now. why are you staying so long?”

“it doesn’t matter. i’m leaving tonight, less templars out and the guards will be able to get me out of the city before knight-captain rutherford even knows i was back in hightown.” reyna shrugs, retying the scarf around her neck. the sun was due to go down in just a bit, the sky still playing with colors of a deep pink and the black encroaching upon it. the guards would switch into their night shift soon.

“that’s...not it.” bethany follows after her as reyna throws the pack on over her shoulder, “you know that’s not what it is.”

“why are you so desperate to know?” reyna quips back, biting her lip to keep from yelling. she knows why, she knows exactly why she’s still here and not heading for the hanged man to sail with isabela. and yet..it’s still stupid to admit out loud. it’s beyond foolish, and the same thing that got her mother in trouble before she was born, “surely you don’t intend to gossip with isabela.”

“reyna...” bethany gives her a look that’s reminiscent of leandra’s, and she cringes back from it. she knows bethany is only concerned from her safety, concerned about her, but she’s more concerned about her’s. and that hurts. reyna was the reason they even had to be careful, the reason bethany had to change her name and cut her hair. and yet, here she was, still caring about her foolish older sister after it all.

it infuriated and wounded her at the exact same time. bethany’s hand brushes her shoulder as she pauses at the door frame, and reyna tenses at the touch against her bicep. why why why had she done all of this? she could’ve just let meredith go on her tirade, turned a blind eye. they had such a nice cushy house here in hightown, and now the amell estate would surely be passed over to some other templar allied noble once everything was in order. they would’ve won and lost their mother’s childhood home within a decade. 

but no. she’d let her own interests blind her to the real goal. she couldn’t stay incognito long enough to let herself even enjoy it.

“reyna, please. just tell me, that way i can help. that way i can find whatever it is you’re looking for.” another beat of silence, “i know you don’t like talking about what bothers you, or makes you angry for my sake and everyone elses’ sake but sometimes people genuinely want to help you. i want to help you.”

“like how meredith helped the mages?” she asks coldly, and bethany’s eyes are startled and hurt but the words keep pouring out of her mouth, “like how orsinio  helped the mages? like how i -- how i helped anders? you can’t help me, bethany.”

her sister freezes, a grimace on her young face as reyna tries not to look over her shoulder before turning on her, “like how i put everything aside to stand behind him when he needed me? and i cost kirkwall their circle, their knight enchanter and their knight-commander? like how i helped kirkwall?”

“you did help!” bethany argues, reaching out to take her hand. reyna snaps it back, “you helped so many people while you were here!”

“at what cost! at what cost did i help everyone back in ‘34, and then lose mother to a blood mage? at what cost did i help by keeping you out of the deep roads, and then losing you to the gallows? at what cost did i help anders, and then lose the chantry because i was so goddamn blind?!”

“you weren’t blind! you wanted to help us, and you did. you can’t apologize for that reyna-”

“i’m not apologizing! i’ll never sodding apologize for what i believe in, but riddle me this bethany -- do you think the chantry would be a smoking crater if i had said no? if i’d denied the idea that i could split anders and justice? do you think we’d have to leave if i didn’t want to help the mages so goddamn bad that i costed us our place in kirkwall?”

“that’s not your fault. you stood up for what you believed in, you stood up for me!” bethany cries, “that’s not your fault. none of it is. it’s-it’s...”

“it’s anders’. that’s what everyone says, right?” reyna runs a hand through her hair, feeling her hands begin to shake the way they do when she doesn’t feel okay, when she doesn’t feel right. her mother had always been able to calm her down but now she can barely speak.

“no. no it isn’t.” bethany avoids her gaze, “you said you believed in him. believed in what he said. believed in what was right.”

reyna throws out her hands around them, “is this what is right, bethany? templars hunting me down, everyone forced to leave because of me and him? was it right that i let what made me happy blind me to what was the truth?”

“i-”

“no! it wasn’t! i can’t defend my actions, i can’t defend his. i can’t defend how i hunted templars down and then pretended to figuratively wash my hands of the blood that was spilled when the chantry came down!” she’s breathing hard, her chest tight, “i can’t defend anyone’s actions -- there was no compromise, but was any of it worth it just so i could have one more day with him!?”

she doesn’t know where her words have gone. but they’re not there anymore. none to pull on. nothing else to say lest she reveal why she’s still here, nothing left to say that she hasn’t already said twenty times over, nor anything she can say that won’t sound like she’s complaining about the mess she got herself into. 

bethany’s eyes glimmer with sad understanding, once she is no longer taken aback by her outburst, “you’re waiting for him. you still think he’ll come back.”

reyna is silent. she knows if she denies it, bethany will pick her apart until she falls apart.

her sister shouldn’t have to listen to her like this. shouldn’t have to pay for her mistakes.

“you believed in him at some point, you cared about him and you were happy, i know you were. and you didn’t want to stay in kirkwall even before all of this. i think the words you used were even ‘these four walls can’t hold me anymore’ the last time you visited.” bethany’s demeanor is soft compared to her own, gently pulling her gloves on, “you...i’ll stay here with you if i have to. reyna if you still love-”

“no! i don’t!” a fire burns inside her as her hands tighten into fists at her side, anger climbing up her throat to choke the words out of her, “i don’t! do you really think that-”

“would you still be here if you didn’t?”

that gives reyna pause long enough to keep from punching the wall next to her. there are holes in her room from earlier, days before bethany had managed to make it out of the shithole of the gallows through varric’s assistance. scars are still just barely healing on her knuckles, and they’re splitting open again from just how hard she’s folded her hands into balls at her side.

“no. you wouldn’t, because you care. you would’ve skipped town already if you didn’t.”

“he used me, bethany. he knew what he was doing and he still did it! would someone who loved someone else really do something like that, without their conscience betraying them?” reyna walks further away from her sister, making to descend down the stairs, “would he still give me all that goddamn praise for what i was doing for the mages in the circle if he really loved me?”

“reyna, you’re not even thinking anymore. of course he loved you-”

“how would you know!” at the bottom of the stairs, reyna whirls on her sister, a fearful look in her matching pair of dark eyes before she even registers it, “how would you know bethany? nobody knew, absolutely no one knew not even me! i’m supposed to be the bloody champion of kirkwall and instead i kept an apostate in my home for upwards of three years, and assisted with destroying the chantry at the same time! all because i thought he cared about me, and i just ignored all the warning signs! i should’ve known, i should’ve said something -- said anything and yet i didn’t because i couldn’t! i was weak and i’m paying the price for it now!”

her eyes sting with unshed tears, frustration taking precedent and building up in her tightening throat, “if he really cared about me, he would’ve told me! that’s what we did, that’s what we always did! i was willing to risk my neck for karl, i was willing to help get a group of apostates out for him, ‘oh hawke is always ready to help’, sodding irresponsibly stupid old me, right?”

“you’re not stupid, you’re not stupid reyna.” bethany bypasses the near shove she gives her sister and instead wraps her arms around her waist, holding tight, “you loved him. you did. i know what losing carver and losing mother did to you. and i know i couldn’t be here for you. i wish i could’ve been. to help you through all of it but i couldn’t. i trusted anders to stay with you, i trusted him to keep you grounded. you weren’t weak. you were stronger than any of us.”

reyna is shaking, her hands stuck at her sides as bethany buries her head in her shoulder. she’s hurt, she’s very hurt by all of this, feeling like she’s been stabbed twenty times over with her own blades when anders had admitted to the crime with a resigned tone of voice, sitting hunched over away from her. expecting death, surprised she did not grant it even at the cost of fenris’ trust. she was aware nothing would change if they didn’t do anything drastic, she’s not wounded by that. she’s destroyed on the inside because he didn’t tell her. 

she trusted him with every part of her. told him things that no one would ever hear come from her lips. things she hadn’t even told herself before. they had each other’s backs for years, and that was where the line of trust snapped.

where did she go wrong? 

was this her fault? because she’d come off as too much? would he have told her if she pressed him for why his demeanor had changed instead of dealing with everyone else’s problems?

she thought she’d meant everything to him. neither of them had anyone left but each other. he’d been there when her mother died, had consoled her to the best of his ability when bethany had been taken. 

and yet?

and yet that still wasn’t enough. it wasn’t enough to trust her. it wasn’t enough to let her say ‘i trust you, and i’m with you’.

love is a strong word for someone who immediately lost all claim on it regarding her. 

but?

she would lie if she said there was nothing left for him to possibly reclaim someday. a long time from now, maybe a lifetime.

but not never.

“he did one shitty job of it.” she chuckles darkly, resigning to put her arms around her sister. knowing that this will be one of the few times she even gets the chance in the next few days, weeks, months and maybe even years, carefully as she chokes out her name, “bethany.”

“yes, sister?” 

“i don’t...i don’t think he’s coming home.” that breaks a part of her inside, blinking a few times up at the dark ceiling to keep herself from falling apart completely -- why was her sister even still here? she had bigger things to worry about than her washed up older sister, the ex-champion of kirkwall, “as much as i might wish it, i don’t think he will be.” 

“he told you he loved him in the gallows, right before orsinio went mad, you know. he was terrified, he was focused exclusively on keeping you alive when we fought meredith. i don’t think i ever caught him with his eyes off of you.” bethany says, gently untangling herself, “maybe it’s not worth atonement in your eyes. i’m not sure. but...” her eyes dart to where the hall ends and the cellar begins a turn later, “maybe he will come back to you.”

does he deserve her forgiveness for that? at all? just because he still loved her before then? because he’d looked her in the eyes, the corners of them crinkling with a look of adoration, of sadness, and had promised her a world where it wouldn’t matter if they were together? how undeniably warm his hands had felt in her’s when their fingers curled together shortly before the ensuing fight against the templars?

she doesn’t know.

she’s so angry that she genuinely wants to hit something. wants to yell at someone, anything. sit someone down and explain why there is a wildfire burning her soul from the inside out, why she so desperately just wants this all to end. wake up from the nightmare that has plagued her for days. will most likely haunt her for the rest of her life.

but she’s also hurt. so makerdamned hurt. where did the trust even go, did it run off or was it never there to begin with? was it worth destroying herself again, on the run with surely thedas’ most wanted mage only because she thought he cared for her?

is that what she wants? or was that decision already made for her?

was it foolish? was it foolish to wait and wait and wait even though she knows the chances of him coming back are slim?

she’d understood -- had said that she knew they’d never be like any normal couple. that she’d have to run, because apostates would never be free. and yet, she’d taken the plunge. had accepted her fate.

all reyna can say is, “i don’t know.”

bethany nods, playing with the deep black curls their mother had given her, before stepping past her, “it’s dark out now. i can’t stay here any longer, sister. donnic will get worried and come out looking for me.”

“i-i know.” reyna responds, squeezing her eyes shut and shaking out the limp curls in her hair from the braid she’d worn earlier, bethany padding closer to the door and pulling her heavy cloak off of the hook, “bethany--be careful.”

“i will. i promise.” bethany says, “as long as you do as well. they will not be friendly to you on the road. anders may not have a phylactery but-”

“they know what he looks like. i know that. that’s to say he even comes by later, though,” reyna takes a breath, trying not to antagonize her sister, “but i will.”

bethany waves, a sad smile on her face before the large door closes, the sound reverberating through the foyer. her calming presence is gone, and reyna feels the cold beginning to seep in her. now that bethany has left, she doesn’t have to pretend she’s okay to keep her sister from worrying more than she already has done. she sadly chuckles, bethany had gotten that from their mother -- a worried hen for all her chicks.

that was supposed to be reyna, watching over her sister. keeping her safe from the templars, keeping her alive. bethany wasn’t supposed to have to come to the estate just to check on her. but she’d been so busy trying to change something that had weathered the pattern of time that she’d neglected everything else. her friends, her family.

herself.

the fire warms her bones to the best of it’s meager ability, her hands regaining feeling. it was a cold night out, she’d have to wear one of her thicker cloaks when she finally left.

this wasn’t how it was supposed to end. and yet here she was, spending the last night in her family home. she says an apology to her mother under her breath, an apology to gamlen even, an apology to her grandparents, an apology to bethany, to carver, to her father. 

she’d failed every single one of them.

reyna doesn’t break down. she knows if she does, she won’t ever leave. she’ll just stay here and be sad and cry about the things she can’t control. and she doesn’t have time for that.

she’s supposed to be the strong one. she can’t be that if she’s bawling like a baby.

inevitably, she spends another two hours in the estate, bordering three and eyes barely open while she stokes the fire every few go arounds. she’s ready to leave, bag over her shoulders and conscience weighing down on her like a brick. but she wanders the house instead, listlessly and without a true purpose.

admiring everything they’d earned after so many years. brushing a hand against her mother’s portrait when she stops in the main hall just outside the room that has been locked since her death. the same brown eyes they all shared staring back at her, a small smile that reyna wants to see again. there’s a smaller one of carver she’d had commissioned years ago with her first allowance from the expedition, and it sits next to her’s. she was supposed to have bethany, father and herself done at some point. a family of portraits once they’d properly settled into the estate.

and then she’d gotten busy, and never finished the task.

she hates to say that she used to wonder if she’d get anders done as well, if they ever solidified what they used to have. she pulls her eyes away from the younger leandra, descending the steps again and making sure all the doors are locked. donnic and aveline are the only two with keys to the estate besides anders and bethany. she would not let the templars have her home if she still had any say about it.

she’s near the front door, cloak donned dutifully around her shoulders and gloves donned, daggers hidden in sheathes on her thighs when she hears the distant sound of a door open and close. her whole body freezes, fearful that it’s an intruder. a templar maybe, they’d found the secret entrance to the cellar under the house. it wouldn’t be the first time, and she should’ve known it wouldn’t be the last. of course it would be the day that she intends to leave.

seizing, she pulls her daggers out, gripping the handles with shaky hands before pushing herself up against the wall leading down the hall. she’d left the door open, what a foolish mistake.

boots. the sound of boots against the carpet. quiet, soft. they aren’t trying to announce their presence, but she doesn’t want to take the risk to look over her shoulder into the inky darkness. she recognizes everyone’s footfalls. she had to, that was part of her training while she lived in lothering and it had saved her life more than a few times since she’d moved to kirkwall.

and terrifyingly-

-she recognizes these. the ones that accompany a long night in the clinic, ones that accompany a proper hunt in the city for mages to help escape.

a quiet voice.

a tired voice.

a resigned voice, calling out for her in a way that shatters her before he steps into the light of the fire, “hawke?”

after a moment, she falls apart. tears bubbling up in her eyes as she turns the corner from where she’d pressed herself up against the wall in preparation.

a staff that isn’t quite regulation, and the black robes she was sure were still stained with blood from a week prior.

the amber eyes she couldn’t say no to, hands that had been tangled with her’s only weeks ago.

“anders.”

he doesn’t look well. not at all. exhausted, eye bags looking darker than they had since he’d moved in with her. hair tied back hurriedly, his own robes barely tied properly.

but, there’s a cloak around his shoulders, straps from a pack as well. dark black to surely hide himself from the templars that are swarming darktown like flies on fruit. she doesn’t ignore that it’s the same one she’d given him two years ago in the dead of winter, worn, but she still recognizes the hawke crest over his heart. clear as day, and worn proudly.

or it had been, when it had been given when he’d first moved in and leandra had suggested the gift, as they and bethany both owned one. her mother had even bothered her to get his name stitched in beneath the crest, though she didn’t. 

she’s glad, she’s not sure if she could take that. not now.

“you’re here,” she responds, biting her tongue not to launch into something she’ll regret, “then you still have the key.”

“you gave me it. i would not simply lose something so important,” that grits against her nerves in a way she can’t explain, though he hesitates to step forward towards her, “you are free to have it back, as i suppose you’re leaving the city according to varric.”

“is this not also your home?” she asks bitterly, forgoing the fact she’d said not to tell anders when she was leaving, “or did you forget somehow in the last few months?”

reyna feels childish when she notes he doesn’t even seem angered by the accusation, just...sad. not the sort of sad where he’s begging for forgiveness at her feet and trying to guilt trip him, but the kind of sad one can only have when they’ve reached rock bottom.

“what do you want me to say, re-hawke?” and yet again, there is no anger behind the words. no deep seated frustration. reyna doesn’t know how to respond to someone who isn’t yelling at her for some reason or the other. she can deal with anger, she can yell at anger rightfully. apologetic...she doesn’t know what to do with apologetic, “if you wish for me to go, then i will. i won’t force myself where i am not wanted.”

she can’t bite them back fast enough, “you betrayed my trust, anders. you took away my right to choose when you lied to me for why you needed all of those ingredients.”

“i know.” is all he offers.

“i know?” she parrots back to him, “if you knew, if you bloody well knew then why even bother? why even accept that sodding key, why stay here? you can’t hide behind the excuse that you knew you would hurt me in the end. there must have been a part of you that knew this wouldn’t end well for you, for us.

“was there ever an us, anders?”

“yes!” something in him snaps before he pulls himself back together, “there always was, reyna. there always was, and that was never in question.”

the question is on the tip of her tongue, but she knows she will never get a proper answer. not one she doesn’t already know, “you thought i wouldn’t support you in this, so you didn’t even take the chance.”

“admit it, you wouldn’t have. no one we know would’ve. and i do not blame you.” anders nearly chastises her, “i could not take that chance to drag you into this. it would be my burden to bear.”

“i am not a child, anders.”

“i know.”

“then you would’ve known that i would at least hear you out. that i would’ve listened. that you didn’t have to play this game of secrecy with me,” she will not beg for an answer if that isn’t what he intends to give her. she is not pathetic.

“you would’ve stopped me. this was something i had to do.”

“would i have? i supported you everywhere else. nearly got myself killed for you. was that not enough to solidify that i was yours, that i would always be with you no matter what?”

when she can not find anymore words, pointedly looking at him instead, he slips the twine that the key hung on from around his neck. worn, but obviously well taken care of. it’s not even scratched upon further inspection. he holds it out her, in a similar fashion that she had given it to him earlier this year. twinkling in the dying light of the fire, spinning gently in a circle, “tell me to go, reyna.”

she hates the way he says it. as if he has already accepted that she will kick him out properly this time. how her name doesn’t sound like sugar on one’s tongue, it instead sounds like the salty tears that had poured down her cheeks for days after the chantry incident. thinly veiled frustration, barely veiled sadness.

she could tell him to go now. there’s nothing keeping her from doing so. it would be significantly easier if she did, in fact. travelling lighter, and she didn’t have to watch for templars nearly as often because an apostate wouldn’t be with her. she could support herself. she was not helpless.

it’d be that easy. just a few words, and she’d be free to leave this cursed city.

then go, anders. i don’t want you here anymore. you’ve destroyed what we had in favor of forwarding your own political agenda. you used me! you used my trust to do all of this, and now you have the audacity to come back and give me my own key back like you actually care what i think of you? you used my love for you. you twisted and tore us apart to something unfathomable. you have no right to be here. this is not your home any longer.

a fire roaring. intoxicated with adrenaline, wandering hands. happy looks, the roll of one’s eyes at another’s antics. the feeling of being a pair, the emotions she could never replicate with another.

he used me!

the warmest look in amber eyes as their lips fit together, tasting of lyrium and metallic blood.

her hand is shaking just out of the corner of her eye, she can grasp it now. it’s warm as she takes it from his hand. carefully. slowly. the twine has nearly frayed in so many places, yet knotted together again and again with dexterous hands she could only credit to him.

she knows what she has to do. the fire inside blazes and she opens her mouth to speak, setting her face. this isn’t something she should just back down from.

yet...

the words don’t come. 

they fail her. 

instead of anything else, even managing a curse or two, she moves her other hand to take his, pressing the key firmly back into his palm, curling his fingers back over it. inhaling, she wonders if she’s making the right decision. is this worth it? should she even begin to take the chance? the chance she could never have another life, never rebuild what she once had?

is it worth it to try and rebuild the shattered pieces in front of her, the scars reopening and bleeding from when it had first broken?

she remembers a vase she and her siblings had broken as children -- her mother’s in fact. blue, glittering in the dying sunlight of the evening when it had broken.

chipped. but not beyond recognition. the bigger pieces were still intact. it was glued back together with the help of their father before their mother was any the wiser.

it will hurt to put the glass back together if she chooses to pick them back up.

exhaling, she finally looks up at him. thinly veiled shock, surprise greets her instead in his expression, “don’t.” is all she can say, lest she actually let her emotions get the better of her.

reyna knows the wish that she could be alone on the road was real, was tangible. but she can’t. not after losing her father, losing carver, losing bethany, losing her mother, slowly losing the people around her to her own mind. not now. not when she knows that she still cares about him. not when there is one person left in the world like hum.

“reyna, i don’t deserve this. you know that much better than i do.” he tries to give it back to her, but she only clutches his hand tighter.

“keep it.” she nearly orders before softening her tone, “please.”

he considers his words, “if..you wish.”

reyna is quiet again. then she is really doing this, a wave of sadness passing over her. she is leaving, with the one person that caused the need to. but the person that she still has fractured trust from, the person that was her first, and if she let’s this progress, her last.

“i will not try to explain it again. you know my reasoning, reyna. and i am truly sorry for the pain i have caused you,” he admits quietly, “i can say a million things, but you would still find faults. and i can never truly apologize for what happened.”

“you can’t,” she agrees, wrapping her cloak around her lithe figure tighter, “you’re right on that front.”

he’s not phased by her response, “i am not asking to be taken back. i know i have foolishly thrown away what we had.”

“again, you are correct,” she rubs the fabric in between her gloved fingers. she hesitates again, knowing what she says now will make or break whatever this is, “but. why are you here then? if you know?”

“i...was not going to ask to travel with you, but to say goodbye. i was unsure if you wanted to see me, or if you were even still here to be entirely honest, but i wished to try,” he pauses, “i will always care for you, reyna. even if it is no longer reciprocated.”

and that is it. it sounds terribly final, as if he is ready to leave right that very moment. he has not made another advance towards her, but his eyes crinkle into a sad smile. one that is all too reminiscent of the same received that fateful day she’d first met him.

a rush of anxiety takes her heart hostage before she speaks again, turning over her shoulder to walk towards the door. she can’t face him when she’s on the brink of a breakdown, “you always did assume so much, anders.” reyna muses.

she doesn’t watch his reaction, but she can hear him walking ever closer, the sound of his staff dragging along the ground doing nothing to hide his presence from her, “will i see you again?” he asks hurriedly.

another blink. another halt of her thought process.

she can’t do this. she was supposed to be strong. but she isn’t. he’s too much to her, he’s been too much to her. how much he gave her, material and emotionally. she’s not ready to rip that away.

it wouldn’t be the same.

everything is still much too raw. too painful to touch. but no one said she had to touch an open would right then, in that very moment. another time, when it was easier to treat. allowed time to heal.

“it would be a crime if you did not,” she puts a hand on the knob, cold through her gloves. it’s nearly entirely dark, now that the fire is gone and the moonlight is shining through the window to illuminate the room, glinting off the steel of hids staff, “tell me, anders.”

“anything.” he answers, careful, calculating. gauging her reaction.

“can--” she turns over her shoulder, tears building in her eyes as she awaits his response, “can you still give me a world like the one you described in the gallows?”

he’s rendered speechless for once. then, recognition flashes through his eyes, as if he is remembering exactly what she is talking about. then, a nod, “i can surely try, if you allow me the pleasure.”

reyna pulls her hood up over head. considering, overthinking at this point, before taking his hand with her free one. this would not be perfect, far from it. she still has anger boiling just underneath the surface. they will both be hunted, unless they should leave the free marches. she is signing away any chance at a normal life.

she squeezes his fingers in her’s tentatively, “then let us find it, yes?”

[linkspooky]

he flies he lies  hawks realizes that he has been telling the truth to the villains and lying to the heroes / For @villainmonth /edit by @inumaqi fic by @linkspooky

“Listen I want you to trust what I’m about to say.” “Those are some pretty serious words you’re saying…” 

♘

If you have wings, you should fly. That is what Hawks always believed. Feathers were designed by god to catch the air, they did not fall, they floated down. He could pluck one of his feathers, throw it into the sky and watch it dance. 

That was what freedom looked like. But looks were deceiving. His quirk manifested at four years old. He still remembered, terrified of the bulges that had formed on his back, but they could not afford a doctor. Trash that littered the floor, and parents that did not look his way because they considered himself like the garbage that piled up, something that needed to be thrown out. Hawks remembered thinking several times as he looked up at the sky, if he could escape to the sea or the sky, he would have flown away from here in an instant. His pain was prolonged for an entire month as something budded from his back. It felt like vines were growing out from him, and he felt every single thorn as they snaked out in the layers between his skin, and wrapped around his spine. He was cut, again and again, inside and out. Then one day, the skin on his back broke. He woke up with two long rivulets of blood streaming down from both sides of his back, an injury that made him look like an angel who had both wings ripped away from his flesh. Then at his upper backs, two large bones had emerged covered in feathers. 

On that first day he pulled those feathers old with a pair of rusty gardening shears out of fear because he did not know what was happening. A mess of blood, and feathers, and two wings plucked raw, but they grew back. It was when he spread his wings for the first time, that he realized he could not leave the ground. There was nowhere for him to fly. Nowhere he could escape to. 

♘

Hawks always had a feeling that he was lighter than air. That there was not enough of himself to fill up his own body. Birds needed to be that way in order to fly, their bones were hollow, and their lungs took up most of their body mass filling them with air. He had the same feeling, nothing inside of him, deep down to his bones. 

Wherever he walked his feet didn’t touch the ground. He was not flying so much as floating, transparent, hollow, he simply hovered there like a ghost with no substance. It was easy for him to smile, because there was no feeling behind the gesture to him. 

When he was younger he never smiled, he found no reason to, and one day he noticed the adults around him were a bit softer on him if he forced the muscles in his face to pull back his lips. Whatever was inside of him, he was sure it was not a hero. Not like All Might, never like him. He was hair, feathers, talons, scars, and bones. He was all of that, and he was still nothing. He was the blood in his body, but maybe only air flowed through his veins. There were holes in his bones. No, there were holes in Hawks. The air simply passed right through him. He was someone who was simply there. He was there and yet not there. But Hawks used this quality of his. Useless children were like trash piling up in the Takami Household, they were knocked down to the floor, and then they were eventually thrown away. He could smile when he did not feel like smiling. He could always continue to smile, even when there was no reason. He just needed to keep flying. Fly up, up, and up. And forget about crashing down back to earth. 

He just had to keep smiling, even now. That was what he told himself, as Jeanist turned his head back to look at him. “It’s rare for you to come visit me like this.” “How are you feeling?” Hawks, dressed like a model, his hair combed back and feathered, his wings stretching to relax. He took nothing seriously, he never had so much as a heavy thought cross his mind. Burdened by nothing, carefree, that was the “Hawks” that he showed to Jeanist. “Much better than before!” “Didn’t you ask that old lady over at UA for help?” “Unfortunately, she can’t recover something that has already been lost.” 

Hawks knew that already. For example if you sever a limb, an arm, a leg, or maybe your own heart. It’s impossible to recover, the only thing left is the phantom pain from something that is no longer there, and a feeling of missing something. 

Nothing held any weight for him. Not even a human life held that much in his hands. What he was about to do did not show on his face at all, not even a twitch of regret and Hawks wondered for a moment if he could do this and feel nothing if he was someone really worthy of being called a hero. 

Heroes saved other people. Hawks could not save anyone, not even himself. 

“Even with a missing lung, we humans can continue to live. I’ll probably go public with this soon. There are many awaiting my reformation.” “I see!” 

Liar. Humans could not continue to live. They were so fragile. They died so easily. That always weighed on his mind. The more weight he had, the harder it was to fly. When he saw butterflies, all he thought of was their fragility. He could let a butterfly land on his hands, and at any moment, tear both of his wings from his body and rip them to pieces, then scatter them like a flower. The faint beating of a butterfly’s wings. The paper thing wings, the fragile line between life and death, so easily torn up and full of holes. It moved in time with the quiet murmur of his heart. His wings flexed and spread behind his back. 

He always wondered when his feathers grew, why they turned from white to red. His feathers were bleeding, red with streaming blood. His feathers were burning, red as the flames. 

Like a white flower. Spilled blood would dye it red. It would glow red with flames. 

“That’s quite unfortunate.” Hawks wore, a predatory smile, a bird about to devour carrion. He held his sharpened feather in his hand cutting his fingers on the edges. He was killing someone already as good as dead. He felt nothing, but also he felt -fragile.

More scared than the butterfly. His bones were hollow and soon they would shatter like glass. 

He was not flying, not at all. His feet did not touch the ground because he was hanging in suspension. The rope tightened around his neck, but he took a step forward off the chair to fall. The wind whipped him back and forth. All he could do was sway, and hope when this was all over someone would take his body down. He died by slow suffocation. He was free, surrounded entirely by air, and he could not breathe.

Hawks knew, killing Jeanist would be as good as killing himself. In that moment he would die. But, he would not be allowed to die either. Even after sacrificing his life there was more he could sacrifice, more the hero commission could take from him. Hawks thought it was funny, he never thought he had much to begin with, no connection to his name, no nest to roost in, and nothing inside of him but hollow bones and yet somehow the hero commission always took more. Being a hero was all he had. He brought the feather up, and slashed it behind Jeanist’s back, killing him like a coward. But, he could not call himself a hero anymore.

♘

The only piece that matters on the board is the king, the rest are all considered disposable. In shogi a player could still win as long as their king remained. Hawks was a useful knight, even a general, but he was someone who could never become king. A king had worth, and he was damaged goods, recycled and put to use by the hero commission after his parents threw him away. He flew through the air, trying to forget the body he had stuffed in a bag. If Jeanist was still here, if he could hear him, Hawks could only say that whatever happened to him in the end would be far worse. 

He saw this image in his dreams so many times. His feathers burning up in front of him, he watched them combust. They fell away from him like glittering stars. Sparkling, sparkling, sparkling. His wings melted and he realized he could no longer fly. Without wings he would just be a broken thing, a damaged kid. When would it be his turn to fall apart? When would it be his turn to crash back down to earth? It was as inevitable as gravity. 

Then, there was no flying. There was only falling. Maybe he never once flew. Maybe he was just falling slowly. Dabi’s skin is torn up and sewn together from pieces,  and he smiles even though it rips his lip. Hawks wonders if it’s painful for that man to smile too, his eyes linger on the lips as he tihnks of his own. His every smile was a lie. To live here, he needed to breathe lies. “I’m curious why this guy? You could have picked someone lower on the list.” 

Hawks just needs to tell another lie. The Hawks in front of Dabi right now, is someone who sympathizes with the cause of the villains, an unwitting pawn, but also too valuable a piece to throw away. 

He smiles and realizes nothing. He knows nothing. He does not know who his real enemies are. 

“Because he was useless.” 

That was his own voice. “Useless heroes get thrown out.” He heard the sound of his own voice. Why was he... “They’re only worth the results they can produce for the commision.Despite everything he’s done for them, the second he became a burden they would have let him take the fall anyway.” 

Why was he telling the truth? Lie to the villains, deceive the villains, report back to the heroes. The mission was so simple, except for this one complicating factor. A knot in the rope he tied around his neck. Dabi will laugh at him. Just like in front of Endeavor, just like with the hero he killed, he will play it all like one big joke. Dabi is just a murderer. To kill people he must have felt nothing at all.

Just like me.

Hawks feels himself grinding his own teeth when he did not mean to. His mask is cracked, and Dabi was going to see him for what he really was. He was going to die now, burned up in Dabi’s sun. He saw Dabi reach his hand forward and closed his eyes in anticipation. A hand. On his shoulder. Someone holding him, touching him. He was touched and he did not break, even though he was fragile. Heavy, far too heavy. “We don’t do that here.” Dabi said, his fingers clasping, tightening around him. His hands are, so unbelievably warm and birds are cold blooded animals. “Don’t worry so much, you look like the kind of useless guy that’s always worrying.” “No way, you’ve got to have brains to have the headspace to be worrying. I’mlike a chicken with his head cutoff.” “Yeah, whatever.” Dabi said, not believing him. “You’re such a shitty liar.”

♘

He was a bad liar. Those words remained in his head, even after he left Deika city. Back on his home turf, he took up roost in a high place. Whenever Dabi asked him to meet he always picked somewhere up high if he got the choice. So idiots prefer high places, huh? Dabi would mock him. His head was empty now. He wanted to cut his head off and throw it into the sky. Maybe then he would finally become a bird. He was thinking of that, and he was thinking that they sky in front of his eyes seemed endless. But there was nothing to see. He jumped down and wondered what would happen if he did not spread his wings. He would fall, obviously. And then he would splat. But after that he would be free. He just needed to let go and fall. He had been waiting his whole life for the rope to snap.

He was born with wings. He had no idea why. There was nothing in the sky. 

He spread his wings out to catch himself at the last minute, and the people around him clapped and cheered. As he landed on a stop sign, a child asked him. “Hawks-san, what’s it like to be a hero?” “You save other people.” “I bet you can save anyone! I’ve always wanted to be a hero, is it fun? Are you happy?”  His hands. Bright red. Jeanist’s blood. He shoved them in his pockets. “Mm, being a hero is all I ever really wanted -” His mouth moved. He was the one talking. And somebody else’s voice came out. He could not hear his own voice anymore. A lie.  “I’m really happy like this.” You’re such a shitty liar. 

[thorne93]

Stan Lee University (Part 17)

Prompt: What would the Avengers be like in college, more importantly, what would they be like if Y/N existed around them?

Word Count: 3331

Warnings: drama, language, welcome to fluff town

Notes: This is based on a HC from @carryonmyswansong. They helped brainstorm and write part of this series. In this AU, no one will have powers, everyone is a normal human. Beta’d by @carryonmyswansong

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

January tenth, and Stephen was set to be back home. Due to your excitement, you couldn’t sleep in, so you woke up fairly early. You got a little dressed up, and ran up to the airport to eagerly await his arrival.

Finally, after an hour, his plane landed. You’d been watching the board like a hawk, anticipating an early landing. 

You waited at the departure terminal, barely able to contain yourself. You hopped from one foot to the other, glancing to every single face that passed by. You tried looking over people’s heads until finally, there he was, in all his glory.

In an effort to keep from squealing, you waved your arms excitedly. He smiled at you and waved back before walking more quickly to meet you. As soon as he was within reach you slammed into him, knocking the wind out of him. 

“Jesus,” he gasped as you clung to him.

“I missed you,” you said defensively. 

“Clearly, that’s why you’re trying to kill me,” he joked, his arms wrapped around you. 

“You should know by now that’s how I show affection,” you teased, still squeezing him. 

“Alright, maybe we should go get my luggage?” he suggested.

You moped and sighed. “Fine.”

He laughed. “We’re about to share almost every day together.”

“But I’ve missed you.”

He took your hand as you two walked, kissing the back of it. “I know.”

“I read all your letters. Twice,” you informed, a little sheepishly.

“Glad you like them.”

“I loved them. They’re on my nightstand. I read one a night before I go to bed.”

“I’m you’re only source of literature? That’s sad,” he noted.

You laughed. “Not for long if you keep that up, asshole.”

The two of you grabbed his luggage, got him loaded into the car, and you drove him straight to his house. 

“Well, here you are,” you noted, getting a little sad. You hadn’t met his family yet, and you didn’t know if he wanted to do it just yet. 

“Yeah, here we are,” he echoed. “Hey, do you think you’d have time to come in? Meet the folks?”

“You...actually want me to meet them?”

“Do you need your hearing checked? Is that not what I just said?”

You looked towards the front door. “Well, yeah, but I wasn’t sure if you were ready or if we were ready or…”

“I’ve met pretty much all of your family. You’re important to me, so I think it’s time my family met you.”

Swallowing, you nodded.

He started to retract his statement. “Look, if you aren’t up to it or don’t want to, I won’t force you. I just thought it’d be nice…”

You slowly bobbed your head. “Okay, yeah. Let’s do it.”

“Cool.” He jumped out of your car and grabbed his bags from the trunk. You grabbed his carry on and followed him inside the house. “I’m home,” he called out, but no response came at first. He walked into the kitchen and found his mom and you assumed his brother. 

The woman looked to be middle aged, a short dark brunette bob, and she was wearing a brown blouse, tan slacks, and gold jewelry. His brother was blonde, in a checkered button blue button down with a red tie and nearly white pants. 

“Ah, there he is, back from New York,” his brother noted.

“London…” Stephen corrected evenly.

“Welcome home, darling,” his mom greeted kindly. “Who’s this?” 

“This is Y/N,” he introduced. “My girlfriend. Y/N, this is my mom Beverly and my brother Victor.”

You extended your hand, shaking both of theirs. “It’s so lovely to meet you both. Stephen’s told me all about you.”

“Really? We haven’t heard one word about you,” Victor noted.

You pursed your lips, unsure how to respond.

“That’s because you’re never around,” he snapped. “Speaking of, why are you here?”

“To talk to Dad, but he’s in his study on the phone. Wanted to run an idea by him,” he informed. 

“Right,” he remarked. 

“How was your trip, dear?” Beverly asked, trying to stop the feud between them.

“Cold, drizzly, informative,” he rattled off and you couldn’t help but frown slightly. Stephen told you something new every day, telling you all about his time at the hospital. But he gave his mom three words? You knew they weren’t close but this house felt just as empty as when his family wasn’t here. “I was wondering if Y/N could stay for dinner? Thought she could meet Dad…”

“Well, I suppose so,” his mom sighed as she picked up her wine and nursed it.

He just looked at his mom and his brother and then shook his head slightly, gesturing for you to follow him upstairs to his room. The two of you began unpacking his things. 

“Jesus christ,” he groaned, clearly agitated as he threw pants into his dresser. “I wish for fucking once they could be decent.”

You remained quiet.

“Victor, I get. He’s always an ass. That won’t change. The only thing he cares about is black credit cards and cars to match.”

“Was… he always that way?” you wondered.

“Shit, I don’t know. We weren’t really close growing up. We got even further apart after… after Donna died.” 

“Maybe he can’t stand the idea of being close to anyone, for fear he’ll lose them. So if he makes himself distance and cold and aloof, he won’t have to face any pain if something happens.”

Stephen stopped unpacking for a second and sat on the bed. “Yeah, maybe. Hell, I don’t know. It just -- you’re the first person I really give a shit about and they can’t give you two seconds. Hell, your whole family talked to me, asked about me. My mom didn’t even ask for your last name, how I met you, or anything.”

“Could you just tell her? Without an invitation? Maybe she doesn’t know what you do and don’t want to share.”

“It’d be a moot point, I honestly think all girls sort of present themselves the same to her. So she doesn’t care.”

“If this is true, then why am I here for dinner?”

“Because you’re important to me, you’re going to be around, I figured they might want to know who’s coming in their house.”

You nodded. 

“And your Dad?”

He scoffed. “Fuck, Dad won’t even notice you’re here.” with that, he got back up and continued unpacking while you helped.

“You know, when a family loses a child--” 

“Don’t,” he slightly warned. “I’m not trying to be a dick, but I know all about the grief cycle, how it affects families. Just please… don’t give me the brochure version, alright?”

You nodded. “Alright.” You weren’t hurt. It wasn’t your place to lecture or “analyze” them, but you thought Stephen might appreciate the practical approach. But this was an emotional issue, logic wouldn’t do here. 

“It’s just… I know it hurts. I know. I miss her every single day, and I feel like it’s my fault she’s gone, but… they seem to forget they’ve got other kids. Everyone just went their separate ways after she died and I hate it.”

“That happens a lot with families.”

“Yeah,” he said with a humorless laugh. “Just don’t get why. Isn’t that the time to come together? To be together? To bond? I mean, you already know our time is short here and we never know when the day is going to be our last… Seems like they’d want to make the most of our time.” 

“Not everyone can focus on what they still have. Sometimes it’s hard to look past what you lost.” 

“That’s definitely true,” he agreed with a nod. “Well anyway, enough of the Strange pity party. Let’s just try to get through this night.” 

All you did was nod, seeing as you weren’t sure what else to say, or that you should say.

In an hour and a half, Beverly texted Stephen telling him dinner was ready. 

The two of you descended the stairs where you met his father, a balding man who already had his attention fixed on a tablet. You and Stephen sat on one of the long sides of the table, while Victor sat across from you. Beverly sat on one of the short ends, opposite her husband. 

Beverly was still bringing the food to the table when Stephen piped up, “Uh, Dad, I’ve got someone I’d like you to meet,” he noted. 

A grunt came from his father, he didn’t bother to look up. 

“Dad… Did you hear me?” he asked again.

“What?” he finally asked, seeming to snap out of his own head. “Ah, you’re back from… Europe. How nice. How was it?” 

“Fine. Great. Learned a lot. Anyway, I want you to meet Y/N, my girlfriend.”

His eyes slid to mine. “Nice to meet you.”

“Is this one going to stick or should we just wait for the next one?” Victor wondered.

“Would you even notice the difference if there was a next one?” Stephen snapped and you just reached over and slowly grabbed his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. He took a deep breath and said, “Well, dinner looks great, Mom.”

“Thank you,” she said, sitting down.

“Yes, thank you so much,” you said, turning to her. 

“Not a problem.”

Everyone began to dish food onto their plates, but you waited until the family had gotten theirs. 

“Anything interesting today, Dad?” Victor asked.

“Looks like the DOW is down,” he noted in a gruff.

“What a shame, hey, I found out some good news about that stock you invested in last week.”

“Mmm, good, send me a report in email,” his dad ordered before taking a sip of his water, his eyes still never left the tablet. 

Victor seemed to suppress a sigh as he worked on his food. 

“Uh, Mrs. Strange, this food’s great. Have you been cooking long?” you wondered.

“Just since Eugene and I got married,” she informed. 

“Oh, interesting. And Eugene, you work in finance?” you asked, turning your attention to him.

“Yes.”

“If the DOW is down, how will that affect your business?” 

“Poorly.”

“Oh, well I’m sure it’ll look up soon. What with the way the low interest rates that are about to hit on the market.”

Suddenly, his dad put his tablet down and looked at you. “Come again? You know stocks?”

“I dabble. My mom’s a bit of a risk taker. She likes to gamble, but she likes to gamble using stocks.”

“And you think it’ll go back up?”

“Oh, sure, just look at the trend it’s been in,” you informed, launching into the past four months of data, comparing it to other trends. Eugene asked you several questions and even Victor seemed to want to test your knowledge. 

“That’s impressive, Y/N. Not many people your age know that sort of knowledge. You thinking about finance for a career?”

“No, uh, actually going to medical school like Stpehen here, but instead of neurosurgery, I’m interested in psychiatry.”

“I bet you’ll do great in that. It’s a shame though. I’m sure I could get you a spot on our firm now, with your knowledge. You wouldn’t make a lot at first, but if you stuck to it, I’m sure I could get you some promising figures.” 

“Thank you, that’s very kind, but I am happy with the path I’m on. If that changes, you’ll be the first to know.”

“Yeah, Dad, Y/N diagnosed a patient that we were having trouble with in London. She saved her life. Works down at that clinic with Dr. York now as a consult.”

“Is that so?” he asked, his face beaming as he nodded, smiling at you. 

“Yes, sir,” you stated. 

“Well, it’s clear you’ll do just fine no matter what avenue you pick. Good for you.” 

“Thank you.” 

The rest of the dinner was eaten in comfortable silence before everyone disbanded and seemed to go their own ways. You and Strange got up to his room and he shut the door.

“My dad has ever talked to guest that long, ever. I don’t even think he talks to the cable repair guy that long.”

You shrugged. “What can I say, parents love me.”

“I didn’t know you knew stocks.”

“I didn’t know your dad was in finance.” 

“Is there anything you can’t do?” 

“I apparently can’t make the best pizza sauce,” you joked. 

“Well that’s true. I guess I have that over you.” 

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

The next couple of nights, Stephen came over to your house to meet your family officially. They all gushed over him and everyone but your dad gave him a hug. Your mom sat with him and practically learned his whole life story in one sitting. Everyone was hanging on his every word, all while you just held his hand and stared at him in awe. 

They all seemed to really enjoy having them around and he smiled quite often while he was at your house. 

This weekend, Stephen was packing for his dorm. You two got dorms next door to each other this semester and you were thrilled. He was taking a break to shower though, so you two could go see a movie. 

You decided to go wander around the house while he did that and you ended up out in the backyard where his mom was. 

“Hi,” you greeted as you came up beside her.

“Oh, hello there,” she returned as she worked on a little garden bed. She had white shorts, a sun hat, and a blue shirt on. 

“What are you planting, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Bachelor buttons, hopefully they’ll come up in time for spring.”

“Oh, I love those.” You glanced around the garden, noting the different vibrant colors. “Oh, your wisteria is gorgeous.”

She smiled. “Thank you. It’s one of my pride and joys.” 

“It’s stunning. Would you like some help?” 

She looked up at you, a curious expression on her face. “Sure. You can start digging the hole for the canna lilies, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind at all. Where would you like it?” 

“Right over here is fine,” she said pointing about a foot away from the area she was working on.

You picked up the shovel and sat it where she pointed it. “Right here?”

“That’s just fine.” 

With that, you got to work, digging easily in the soft soil.

“So how did you and Stephen meet?” she casually asked as she unpackaged the bubled plants. 

“We were actually physics partners for lab,” you informed. 

“Oh, well that’s nice.”

“Mhm. We seemed to hit it off. He came to my pre-med club, and we became good friends.”

She made a noise of admiration. “Mmm, all good loves come from good friendships. It’s a great foundation.”

“I think so too.”

“And you’re going to medical school too, hmm?”

“Yes, ma’am, that’s the plan.”

“Will you go where Stephen goes?” 

This question threw you for a loop for a moment. 

“Oh, I’m not sure. We haven’t really discussed it at all,” you informed honestly. “We’re still only juniors so we’ve got a little bit of time.”

“Right, absolutely,” she agreed. “Well you seem like a very sweet, well to-do young lady.”

“Thank you very much. And Stephen is a great man. You and your husband did a fantastic job raising him. He’s very sweet, brilliant, and funny.” 

She paused and looked up at you. “That’s a very kind thing to say, thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.” 

“He’s lucky to have found you. He’s been so closed off from everyone since… well… I don’t know if he told you about the accident.”

You were done digging so you sat the shovel down and sat down in the grass across from Beverly. 

“About Donna? Yes, he did. I’m so very sorry for that. I know my words don’t help, but, know it pains me to know that tragedy hit your family.”

She nodded. “I appreciate that. Ever since then, he’s been so… isolated. I wish I could reach him. He left his old school, all his friends… At least he’s closer to home now, but he still wants to live on campus. I guess I can’t change that.”

You gave a soft, half smile. 

“You seem to be good for him though. He smiles a lot more now that you’re around,” she mentioned. 

“I hope so.”

“Do you know if he’s… happy?”

You bit your lip as that was a loaded question. “I… know he misses his sister every day. And I know he feels responsible. But he misses you all,” you remarked carefully.

She sighed. “I miss him too.” 

“What’s going on out here?” Stephen asked as he walked up.

“Oh, just girl talk. Me and Y/N here were getting to know each other a little better. She’s helping me plant some flowers,” she informed with a kind smile at you. 

“That’s dangerous. Alright, Y/N, let’s go,” he said quickly. You got up and dusted your pants off.

“I hope I helped,” you said sweetly.

“You did,” she assured, and you weren’t sure if she meant the gardening or with her son…

As you two got in Stephen’s car he said, “You don’t have to do that.” 

“Do what?”

“Try to bond with her. If it makes you uncomfortable--”

“I like trying to get to know you’re family,” you assured. “I think it’s nice.” 

“I’m glad someone thinks so.”

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

The two of you went to the movies and when you returned, you said you had to use the bathroom. Suddenly, Beverly spoke to her son.

“I like her, you should bring her around more often,” she noted as she worked on chopping carrots.

“I’m sorry, what?” he said, as if he didn’t hear her. 

“You heard me,” she informed evenly. 

“Wh--Well, alright, I will.” 

“Good. I think she’s a good addition to the family.”

At this, he smiled and nodded. “I think so too.”

“She doesn’t just lock herself in your room like some of your old friends and girlfriends did.”

“No, she’s not like any of them at all.”

“Which is a good thing,” she sternly noted. “Why don’t you have her and some friends over next weekend, you know, after school starts? A little party?”

“And… Dad’s okay with that?”

“I’m sure your father would be delighted to have some energy back in this place.”

“Alright, I’ll see what I can do,” he promised just as you exited the bathroom. 

You greeted Beverly and offered to help her with dinner but she declined so you two went into the living room. 

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

Time around Stephen’s family was tense at first, of course, but you tried to balance time between your homes. Friday nights you went to your house, Saturday nights at his place, then you alternated on Sundays. 

It seemed that when you were around the Strange’s the atmosphere sort of picked up. You made sure to check in on Beverly every time you came over, seeing if she would like help around the house or if she she just wanted to talk. The few times Victor popped up, you tried to be kind to him as well. Eugene was always thrilled to see you and eventually you made your way from talking about stocks to horse racing to bartending to economy. He always seemed really intrigued with what you had to say and took you very seriously. 

Stephen always thanked you for being patient with them, and he thanked you for seemingly helping them get out of their rut. Eugene no longer locked himself in his study, unless he really had a lot of work to get done, and Beverly seemed to not grab a glass of wine every night with dinner. 

For whatever reason, your presence seemed to instill a new hope, a new energy into the house. 

And for the first time in a long time, they enjoyed spending time together as a family.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[honeycut-a-blog]

❤💦😢💔

LOVE  &  SEXUALITY  QUESTIONS!   /   ACCEPTING.

❤  HAVE THEY EVER BEEN IN LOVE?

i  wanna  say  …  yes  and  no.    yes,   because  there’s  definitely  been  times  in  her  busy  life  where  she’s  brushed  with  serious  romantic  inclinations  for  another  person. 

but  also  no,   because  she’s  never  really  allowed  herself  to  fully  chase  after  those  notions. 

like,   here’s  the  thing.    love  is  a  real  bag  of  shit.    it  is.    it  is!    it  feels  good,   looks  good,   but  it’ll  change  you  completely  and  you  just  gotta  deal.    sit  in  your  little  carseat  with  your  fuckin.    little  idiot  goldfish  crackers  and  your  stupid - ass  baby  cup  for  babies  and  let  that  bitch  ride  out.    that’s  exactly  how  it  is.    it  completely  takes  over,   you  know,   just  busts  up  in  here  and  you  aren’t  even  prepared,   deer  in  the  headlights,   pants  down,   tits  out,   you  gotta  fuckin  deal.

but  it’s  not  that  easy!    it  never  is.    love  is  intrusive  as  fuck  and  often  overpowers  all  rational  thinking.    when  you’re  in  love,   that  person  is  always  gonna  be  the  only  thing  on  your  mind.    you  do  stupid,   impulsive  things  for  them,   maybe  to  protect  them  or  save  them  or  even  just  to  hold  the  smallest  bit  of  their  attention,   without  really  considering  the  consequences  or  what  it’ll  do  to  you  in  the  aftermath.    or  you  feel  the  need  to  tell  them  every  little  detail  about  you,   all  your  secrets  and  your  stories,   and  it  physically  pains  you  when  you  don’t.    you  just  wanna  give  up  everything  you  are  to  that  one  fucking  person  and  they’re  free  to  do  with  it  whatever  they  want.    kill  you  with  it,   even.    at  that  point  you’re  probably  wishing  they  just  would.

and  then  there’s  hawke.    hawke,   with  all  the  pride  in  the  world.    with  an  absolute  fortress  built  around  herself.    with  nothing  left  to  lose  and  yet  everything  left  to  lose.    hawke  has  never  experienced  any  of  that.    she’s  never  wanted  to  give  up  all  her  secrets  to  one  other  person,   never  sought  to  sacrifice  her  own  happiness  or  reputation  for  anything  smaller  than  the  greater  good.    never  wanted  to  turn  herself  completely  inside  out  until  there  was  nothing  left  to  hide  from  them.    she  has  way  too  much  dignity;   stubborn  as  shit,   very  secretive,   very  careful  about  who  she  lets  into  her  personal  life  (  the  real  one,   anyway.   girl’s  got  a  little  black  book  thicker  than  the  bible.  )    

if  she  were  to  ever  fall  in  love,   it’d  just.   man  it’d  just  tear  her  apart.   p  much  erase  everything  she  is  as  a  person  and  build  a  whole  new  woman  out  of  what  she  feels  for  someone  else.    it’d  be  fucked  up  and  she  actually  can’t  even  fathom  ever  being  like  that.    that’s  not  to  say  she  doesn’t  know  how  to  love,   cuz  she’s  not  cold - hearted,   but  she’s  just  …  scared  of  it.    either  she’s  afraid  of  the  day  it  really,   really  happens,   or  she  doesn’t  think  it  ever  will  happen,   not  entirely,   not  fully.    it’s  not  her  biggest  priority  either  way,   but  i  think  that  if  you  could  be  someone  hawke  loves,   someone  she  really,  really  loves  and  trusts,   then  it’s  like  …   a  whole  victory  on  its  own,   and  you  better  be  prepared  for  her  acting  weird  as  shit  when  she  finally realizes  it  too.

💦 WHEN DID THEY LOSE THEIR VIRGINITY? 

relatively  young.    although  she’d  fooled  around  before  ( age  13  or  so ),   she  didn’t  have  penetrative  sex  until  she  was  fifteen,  and  with  a  boy  a  few  years  older  than  her  who  made  a  real  bad  first  impression.    she’d  only  been  with  girls  before  that    —    you  know,   experimenting  and  whatnot,   because  she  was  ~ blossoming ~  and  it  was  easier  to go  at  it  with  anatomy  she  was  already  familiar  with.    

😢 HAVE THEY EVER BEEN CHEATED ON BY A PARTNER?

nope.    i  think  it’s  important  to  note  that  hawke  is  not  only  super  noncommittal  in  the  first  place,   but  very,   very  careful  when  choosing  a  real  partner.    she’ll  do  all  she  can  to  avoid  situations  where  there’s  even  a  slight  chance  that  her  pride  could  be  hurt,   so  it’s  not  very  often  that  she  engages  in  a  real  relationship.    if  she  trusts  the  other  person  a  lot  and  has  spent  a  long  time  with  them,   then  maybe  she’ll  go  for  it,   but  again,   that’s  super  rare  because  she’s  kinda  plagued  with  this  incessant  need  to  neurotically  foresee  what  small  things  could  go  wrong  and  how  that  could  affect  her  or  her  reputation.

that  being  said,   if  unromanced  throughout  DA2,   then  she’s  only  been  in  one  other  relationship  in  her  life  when  she  was  just  a  child,   so  it  almost  doesn’t  really  count  (  although  it  really  did  to  her  at  the  time  ).    otherwise  she’s  had  a  plethora  of  fuckbuddies  and  one  night  stands,   most  of  which  were  super  regrettable  coughcoughmeeran  but  no  one  to  actually  earn  the  title  of  her  exclusive  partner  just  yet.    even  so,   i  think  you’d  have  to  have  a  real  death  wish  to  cheat  on  her,   even  incidentally,   and  try  to  get  away  with  it.    hawke  may  fuck  around  but  she  doesn’t  fuck  around,  you  know?    she  might  actually  kill  you.    like,  not  in  a  funny  ha ha  way,   i  mean  that  chick  will  actually,   literally  hunt  you  down  and  kill  you.    it’s  not  only  that  you  completely  broke  her  trust,   but  it’s  a  personal  loss  on  her,   cuz  she  allowed  herself  to  be  fooled  in  the  first  place.

💔  WHAT WAS THEIR WORST BREAKUP?

i  wouldn’t  call  it  a  break  up  per  se,   but  when  she  was  young    —    ten,   eleven    —    she  had  a  little  elven  girlfriend  who  went  missing  one  day.    it  actually  really  fucked  her  up,   and  she  never  did  talk  about  it  with  anyone,   but  it  was  just  …   a  weird  feeling.    scary,  of  course,   but  the  feeling  of  just  standing  by  the  seaside,   looking  at  something  that  was  there  and  now  it’s  not,   it’s  just.    eerie,   right?    like  watching  a  modern  movie  starring  someone  who’s  now  dead.    you  feel  weird.    everything  feels  weird.    not  real,   for  just  a  minute.    that’s  how  it  was  for  her  at  that  age,   and  she’d  never  experienced  anything  like  that  before,  and  it  just  kinda   …   it  drowned  out  the  heartbreak,   being  as  overwhelming  as  it  was.    overwhelming  and  numb  all  at  once.    

they  met  in  one  of  the  small  villages  hawke  lived  in  temporarily  while  she  and  her  family  were  still  moving  around.    the  relationship  wasn’t  anything  too  heavy,   just  the  light  shit  that  children  do,   yknow,   holding  hands,   kissing  playfully.    sharing  snacks.   building  hideouts.    that  shit.    it  was  very  innocent,   but  it  was  still  a  definite,  confirmed  relationship  between  the  two  of  them;  hawke  had  very  seriously  asked  this  little  girl  to  date  her.

being  at  such  a  tender  age,   it  was  really  hard  for  hawke  to  rationalize  what  kind  of  bad  things  happened  in  little  places  like  this.    i  mean,  you  understand  the  little  dangers,   like  who  not  to  talk  to  and  where  not  to  go,   but  you  don’t  really  get  the  big  picture.    you  don’t  get  why  things  happen  the  way  they  do  or  how  they  could  ever  happen  to  someone  like  you.   you  don’t  get  why  people  hurt  other  people.    sure,   it  was  embedded  into  her  at  a  fairly  young  age  that  the  world  wasn’t  a  trusting  place,   but  sometimes  it  was  easy  to  forget  that  little  fact  when  she’d  met  someone  who  made  her  feel  like  it  wasn’t  so  bad  afterall.

the  slavers  came  late  in  the  night  and  docked  their  boat  right  where  the  waves  meet  the  sand,   where  the  girls  liked  to  stand  on  grey  days  and  wiggles  their  toes.    they  didn’t  make  a  sound.    they'd  been  summoned  on  tips,   knowing  exactly  where  to  go.   raided.    left.    gone  by  sun - up.

no  one  knew  that  hawke  had  been  so  close  to  that  girl,   therefore  no  one  had  thought  of  explaining  to  her  what  had  happened.    she  was  just  left  alone  with  that  fear,   standing  there  by  the  water,   looking  at  what  once  was  but  would  never  be  anymore.

when  she  was  younger,   hawke’s  father  made  the  mistake  of  telling  her  horror  stories  of  sirens  and  sea  monsters,   birthing  that  fear  in  her  as  she  always  took  his  word  for  gospel.   she  had  already  hated  the  water  and  would  never  go  past  the  shore,   feeling  that  as  long  as  she  was  still  on  land,   nothing  could  get  her.

in  her  young  mind,   she  rationalized  that  the  sirens  had  taken  her  little  girlfriend  afterall.    they’d  made  the  mistake  of  thinking  they  were  safe,   invading  upon  that  turf,   and  the  sirens  made  her  pay  for  it.    it  was  a  lot  to  swallow  for  a  child.

needless  to  say  she  grew  out  of  that  mindset  when  she  was  older,   but  she  never  stopped  hating  the  water,   never  stopped  being  afraid  that  she’d  slip  in  and  get  pulled  down.    traveling  was  harder  after  that.    she  couldn’t  help  but  wonder  if  they  were  sailing  right  over  the  remains  of  what  once  was,   and  it  made  her  stomach  churn  each  time.    she  got  sea  sick  far  more  often.    even  the  smell  of  the  water  evoked  that  old  sentiment  in  her  gut,   that  sadness,   that  fear    —    and  that  still  holds  true  even  to  this  day,   although  she’s  mostly  forgotten  about  its  origin.

[crowsofareaper]

Heading Down The Rabbit Hole

It didn't take me long to get to 'Mitchell's Auto Repair' mechanics workshop where I had worked for the past four years. My best friend Daniel Mitchell's father owned the workshop, which was just off the beaten dirt track. Norco was a farming town, full of fields and dirt roads. There was only one road in and out of Norco and it was so small that everyone knew everyone else, which meant that everyone was in each other's business.

It was apparently commonly known, that once you lived here, there was never a way out. I refused to believe that and the moment Thomas was as far away from Wendy and this fucking forsaken town, and at the safety of the Medical School in Chicago, then I would be making a break for it myself. Thomas didn't need to know I was going back to Charming. I needed to get answers from anyone who was around when my father killed himself. So as I pulled up onto the forecourt of the auto repair business and kicked the stand of my bike down, I looked towards the office.

I could see through the window that Dan was sat at his desk on the phone, with a customer probably. Sitting back and getting comfortable on my bike, I slipped my hand into the pocket of my jacket and pulled out my heart medication, something I was destined to be on for the rest of my life. I was in good health so I could be thankful for that, but the medication made sure that my heart continued to beat in a regular pattern, to keep a stroke or heart attack at bay. Growing up I was a shit bag, I wanted to punish Wendy, out of pure spite, so I would spit them out when she wasn't looking. Which meant I spent more time in hospital having countless operations to get my heart beat back on track. It forced me to grow up quickly and stop punishing her by nearly killing myself. I wasn't ready to die. I wasn't ready to meet my maker, not yet anyway, not until I had closure. I had managed to drift off, just staring aimlessly at the bottle with the red capsules inside, when a glass of water was shoved under my nose and I tilted my head back to see Dan stood beside me.

"So you preparing to ask them on a date or you gonna take one?"

I quirked a brow before letting out a chuckle under my breath, reaching my free hand to take the glass from him.

"Thanks"

Standing up, I swung my leg over the bike and followed Dan back towards the office, he knew everything about my past, about Wendy, Tara, Gemma and Jackson, he knew everything about the fucked up world I was born into and the rise and fall of SAMCRO. Dan also knew that Charming was the place you went to die, and that meant SAMCRO was the place dreams went to die. But he never questioned my motives about wanting to go back there. He knew I needed answers, the answers to questions the reporters kept out of the papers, or some bent cop buried in some archive. I plonked down on the shabby and torn couch, covered in motor oil and coffee stains, I put the glass down on the table and opened the medicine bottle.

"So what brings you around today? You aren't on the books to work"

I held the familiar red pill up to examine it like I had never seen it before, I really did hate taking these pills on a daily basis. I popped the pill into my mouth and washed it back with the tepid water, grimacing, before shrugging at Dan's question.

"I couldn't stay in that house any longer, Wendy is watching me like a hawk and Nero.... well... he knows something is going on, but he is reluctant to ask questions."

Leaning back against the couch and folding my arms, I watched Dan rake his hand through his hair before folding his arms over his chest, mimicking me and leaning back against the desk.

"You still definitely going back to Charming then?"

His question was sincere, I nodded once as I looked around the office, it was grotty and old, and Laurence Mitchell really didn't get much trade out here. He spent more time fixing the farmers tractors than he did anything else. We would get the odd car come in now and again, usually from someone passing through and broke down, but it wasn't anything exciting.

"I am, I need answers and Wendy isn't giving me them, she knows, but she will take them to her grave, clearly Jax has sworn her to secrecy."

I watched Dan as he pushed from the desk.

"Well.... I have something for you then"

He was like an excitable puppy all of sudden as he walked around the desk and pulled a large folder from the top drawer of the desk.

"What are you going on about man?"

I looked at him questionably as he finally plonked down beside me and put the folder on the small coffee stained table. Curiosity got the better of me, so I sat up and pushed myself to the edge of the grubby couch.

"Well, I did that digging you wanted me to do"

Dan shuffled through papers, I couldn't exactly go digging on my past, Nero checked all my internet access and logins, so I couldn't keep it secret, so I asked Dan a few months ago to go digging on my background and Charming to see what he could find, but since he never came back to me, I assumed he didn't find anything.

"What did you find out?"

He grinned at me as he began.

"Well Abe's.... where do I start?"

I really hated it when he called me 'Abe', it made me sound like an old man. It was bad enough Wendy had given me this fucking name in the first place.

"Well, I went back the full twenty years, turns out that practically everyone who was in Sons of Anarchy when you were born, are now dead, bar a few, mostly all killed because of the orders of your father, or your step-grandfather"

I looked to Dan, I knew most of this, I don't actually remember anyone from Charming, if they weren't family, I didn't remember them, maybe for the best though. But I remained silent as I allowed for him to continue.

"Anyway, I found a guy called Filip Telford, he is also known as 'Chibs', he took over president from Jax, and he is still president of SAMCRO, with the vice being Alex Trager, Tigs? Remember them?"

I shook my head, I didn't remember the names.

"No, have you got photos?"

Dan bounced beside me.

"So glad you asked because I do"

He handed me a photo, it was a photo with around twelve men on, all bikers and all wearing the SAMCRO patch, above each head, Dan had written who they were, and I found Tigs and Chibs quickly, but I still didn't recognize them. I recognized Clay and Jax, but they were family, I had photos of them. Everyone else was a complete blur. I raised my hand and scratched my head trying to think, to see if I could recollect anything, but it had been a long time and I was only a child.

"I don't know any of them, not even the faces."

I kept hold of the photo.

"What else? Did you find out anything surrounding my father's death? Or Gemma's? Tara?"

I knew my father killed Gemma because he blamed her for Tara's death, but I didn't know why. Wendy, nor Nero would go into details or give me a straight answer. Dan tensed beside me.

"Going to the gruesome shit first then?"

He grimaced, as he went through the folder and handed me print out photos of what looked like a crime scene, as I looked closer, a lump caught in my throat, it was Tara, lying lifeless on the kitchen floor of our old home, caked in her own blood, and I whispered under my breath

"Mom..."

The floor, covered in blood, and I looked to Dan for any type of answer. I hadn't seen these photos before. The last time I saw Tara she was alive.

"It gets confusing here Abel, I found that some Chinese gangster types called Lin Traid killed Tara in a home invasion and killed this cop called Eli too, but no one was really bought to justice, as the leader type, was killed in prison and your father...... well.... your father killed everyone else out of revenge for Tara"

My father was a selfish bastard, but a lot of what he did was out of love for his family, no matter how wrong or immoral it was. Hesitantly I tore my eyes from the bloody scene of the photo and looked to Dan.

"Then why did my father blame Gemma?"

I felt confused if it was some other people that had issues with my father and SAMCRO why would he blame my grandmother for what happened? I remembered when I was younger when I harmed myself and blamed Gemma, I remembered hearing her say to Thomas that it was her fault Tara was dead and she didn't mean for it to happen. I knew Gemma was the reason, but no one would tell me or give me firm answers as to why it was her fault. Did she hire these men to kill Tara?

"I don't know, I looked into it, and all I could find was Gemma was the only one who testified that it was these Chinese dudes, but I can't find anything about her being involved with the killing"

I shifted a little uncomfortable.

"But why would she say it was her fault? Why did she blame herself?"

I ran my hand down over my face, my face scrunching up in frustration.

"It was fifteen years ago Abel, are you sure that's what she said? Maybe you misheard, you were five"

I shrugged my shoulders and looked back to the photo, I know my memory was hazy, but I remembered my fathers face that night and the next thing I knew, we were being packed off to this farm,

"I don't know anymore, is my mind playing tricks on me? I've been told so many stories, that I can't even remember clearly, but I am sure I remember Gemma saying that, that I am certain"

I looked to Dan concerned, I wasn't going mad right? Even Wendy and Nero said that Jax blamed Gemma, but both denied that she killed Tara, this is why I needed to go back, to find the truth, someone in Charming knew what happened.

"Well, Jax killed Gemma and this ex-cop guy Wayne Unser in Oregon, and within twenty-fours, another twelve people were killed at the hands of your father, before he killed himself. He died the same way your grandfather John did"

Dan handed me photos from the scene of my father's crash, the crumpled bike, the blood covering the highway, the dent in the front of the truck, there was a body, but it was too disfigured to make out, but I knew it was my father. He went out of this world the same way his own father did. Shaking my head, I felt the tears running down my cheeks, I was questioning myself, doubting what I remembered. None of the evidence that Dan had tallied with what I remembered, I felt his hand on my back as I wiped the tears away quickly.

"Fuck man"

I forced out a laugh but it really didn't seem convincing, so I changed the subject slightly

"So, who do I see when I go back?"

I tried to move the conversation on quickly and not have him pity me in any way.

"Well, as I said, this Chibs guy and this Tigs guy knew your father, Jackson was president over these guys before his death, their headquarters for the motorcycle club is in an ice cream shop"

He chuckled at the thought before sliding the entire folder in front of me on the table

"I would start there, I guess, they would know who you were"

I nodded at him, that wasn't my first port of call, I needed to go somewhere else first, something that was much more important. All of this was a complete mess.

"This folder has information on all the motorcycle club members that knew Jax, who was part of the Club, their convictions and everything until their deaths. Your father's best friend was Harry Winston, he was known as Opie, two kids, his first wife was killed, second is still alive and living in Charming still, but you know, read when you can"

He offered me a smile before he got up from the couch and I put the photos in my hand down and decided to start from the beginning.

"Thanks for this Dan"

He gave me a nod with a half smile before he headed towards the door. Was I really ready to embark on this? Read up on all these men, the men who stood alongside my father for all those years? I wasn't ready, but I needed to know. I wanted to hate Jax Teller, I wanted to be disgusted with him, but I wasn't, no matter how hard I fought, I just couldn't hate the man that I remembered being the person that protected me, that was the one who kept me safe. Was this really a can of worms I wanted to open? I feared that once I did, there would be no going back and my fate would be sealed. I dreaded the thought that I would go down the same rocky path of destruction and anguish as he did. Was history really going to repeat itself for the third time? SAMCRO Was formed by a Teller, it was a legacy that was hard to shy away from, even after all these years. Or was it an omen, a death sentence? Was the Teller name truly cursed by the ghosts of the past? Yet more questions I needed to answers to. I was already venturing down this rabbit hole, I couldn't turn back now.

[grimdarkandhandsome]

SHAWN

    I was so embarrassed of my laser rifle that first day. I kept switching between clipping it to my belt and slinging it over my shoulder, trying to find a place for it that had minimal impact on my silhouette. Why oh why didn't I just buy the magnetized holster?

    'Everybody inside, children,' said Mentor Antonia as the dropship's big door swung open. 'Quick like bunnies! The Circle army is mustering as we speak.'

    We filed into the dropship, yawning. Quixota was in front of me, heavy-footed in rocket boots.

    'We're not children,' said Quixota. 'Even Eric has stopped growing by now.'

    Mentor Antonia depolarized her faceplate so Quixota could see how unimpressed she was.

    'If you're not children, then stop playing around and win some battles.' She leapt nimbly into the dropship. 'Takeoff in sixty secs.'

    We squeezed in. I remembered my old mentor Lady Dohi, back on Tau Ceti II. She actually called us children too, but she said it in a nice way, I guess. Here in War Training, self-improvement had evolved into hawk-eyed competition. I sat down and strapped in, rifle nose-down between my knees. I was between Quixota and the cyborg, Eric. I didn't know either of them well at all. The ship was cramped with all the armored students, and as we settled in we kept scraping and scratching the already-scuffed paint on the plastic seats. Everything was painted a really depressingly bright green. I pulled my helmet down over my eyes so I didn't have to look at anybody. The CQC girls were chatting irritably about missing winter on their home planet. Our squad was almost all girls, as was typical for our generation. With a muffled roar we rose clumsily into the air, and I watched the jump-jets flicker outside the rear porthole as we flew away.

    We were halfway thru our flight when our wristwatches glowed green, illuminating the undersides of everyone's chins and noses. We were entering the free combat zone. The CQC girls whooped and chanted.

    'Ho! Ho! Ho! HO!'

    The girl across from me looked my way and rolled her eyes.

    'Dionysians,' she remarked, as if this were normal or even a word.

    I intended to ask what she meant, but somehow just gave an awkward gesture of irritation and confusion. 

    She elaborated anyway: 'The opposite of Apollonians.' 

    She was a Light, or maybe Analyst class, tall with neat black hair. She wore a warp suit that made her look like a praying mantis librarian. 

    'I'm Lysa,' she said.

    'I'm Shawn,' I said miserably. 'Nice to meet you.'

    'Hey!' announced someone towards the front with a fusion spear. 'You guys! We are gonna blast those Circle dicks in half!' 

    Her companions cheered. I grimaced. 

    'The pleasure is all mine,' said Lysa, eyes sparkling. 'I see you've brought a laser rifle.'

    I couldn't tell if this girl was making fun of me or not. 'It has really good hip-fire accuracy,' I mumbled.

    'Do me a favor, okay? Hang on to this.' 

    She handed me a silver sphere about the size of an eyeball. It had a little triangle etched into it. 

    'Uh, um, okay,' I said, and dropped it into my satchel with all my other gear.

    'Have you ever been in a ground war before?' she said.

    'No.' I was painfully aware that despite being nine orbits old, I looked more like seven.

    'Neither have I,' said Lysa. 'But I've played a divine buttload of simulations.'

* * *

    Forward Base Rho was too new to have a real name. It had only been captured yesterday, and might well be lost again soon if the enemy mecha column came this way. It consisted of a circular wall, three towers with bomb launchers, two barracks (for seniors and juniors), a bathroom, a bunker, and two picnic tables. A couple battlefield cars were parked outside, caked in red dust. 

    We landed and piled out, blinking in the sun. We had alighted on a vast shallow slope under a brilliant blue sky. Out here in the wastes, the earth was a dry, windblown red, hard like asphalt. Patches of blue-green grass waved like seaweed. The land was very flat, distinguished by craters, ridges, and rocky hills. Downhill, at the limit of my vision, I saw a blue river winding among green fields. It was hot out, but the breeze was cool.

    The local commander unlatched the gate and waved us inside. ('Oi! Munchkins!') He was an older man from the Mecha Corps, with a robotic arm and a familial demeanor. He looked kindof like a broad-shouldered Confucius. He led us to the battlements, for the debriefing. 

    'Hello and welcome, soldiers. I'm Rozome, and, yes, I named Base Rho after myself. The campaign's going pretty good down here, but it all hinges on whether we can deal with the enemy armor in the west.' 

    He pointed towards the plains downhill, where a large plume of dust hung in the distance. 

    'Base rules are "Don't cause trouble" and that's it. I'm in charge of this here base, but your Mentor is in charge of you.' 

    Mentor Antonia bounced her eyebrows. 

    'You guys are in luck,' continued Rozome, tucking his beard into his jacket. 'The enemy doesnt care about this spot at all. You can totally goof off. Before you arrived it was just me and the journalist defending this place.' 

    From one of the gun-towers a skinny young man gave us a half-interested wave. 

    We all gave each other a look. All of us were here for action and career development. Bunking in the desert with no combat and a dozen meatheads? That was just a bad summer camp. I sighed. 

    'Anyway, pretty straightforward. Go ahead and settle in. I'll shout if we're attacked tonight, but 99% odds it's going to be quiet.'

    Mentor Antonia herded us back down to ground level. 'Mission tomorrow at 0900. Recon. No delays.' 

    We shuffled into the junior barracks. 

* * *

    After dinner, the CQC kids crowded onto four bunks for a tedious and noisy game of Never Have I Ever. I was just tossing my satchel onto the top bunk in the far corner when a flash of crimson lightning exploded in my face. 

    'What the shit?!' I probably said, falling onto my butt. 

    In the previously-empty top bunk sat Lysa, grinning. 

    'Hi!'

    'What did you ... do?!' I said, picking myself up again. 

    'I'm testing the teleport homer I gave you.' She tossed my satchel back down to me. 'I'll take top bunk, okay? We can be friends, it'll be fun.'

    'Um. Alright.'

    I put my bag on the lower pillow instead. I mean, at least I could get out the door faster if we were attacked. 

    'So,' said Lysa, peeling off her warp suit. 'What's your plan for tomorrow?'

    'Well,' I said, 'I don't think we'll do any real fighting, but I'll probably just give cover and supporting fire if we do.' I started to take off my armor. 'And you?'

    She pulled an immense Earth Sucks tshirt over her head. 'Watch and learn!'

* * *

    In the morning after breakfast we aggregated by the gate and, after some headcounting, squeezed into the cars. They were big combat models, like particularly bouncy trucks. Four people in armor could fit in the back, with a smaller passenger seat next to the driver. Lysa sat up there, next to Mentor Antonia in the front car. I was in the second car, in the back. 

    To noone's surprise, the mission itself was completely uneventful. It wasn't horrible, actually, because the cars were open-topped in the back. I'd forgotten how pretty terrestrial planets could be. We patrolled a wide perimeter around Base Rho, then split up and went exploring. There were some very nice striped arches in the rock, and actually a few artificial statues. I wondered whether would we have time to try our hands at carving something like that. It was a nice meditation. 

    We got back in the mid-afternoon. It was viciously hot and a layer of boredom was accumulating on our shoulders. Most of the others procured warm beer and retreated to the barracks, so Lysa took advantage of the quiet to teach me chess. Apparently they gave classes on it on her planet (Aurora I). She seemed a little heat-wilted until I killed both her chancellors with one elephant. Then she perked up and became much more competitive. Soon she had two bishops and her queen pointing at my defenseless king, and I had to tip him over. We sat in the shade of the well and she read while I dozed.

* * *

    Wednesday was just as boring as Tuesday, altho Lysa brightened it a little by texting me mocking nicknames for our squadmates. (For example, we named the short girl with the flamethrower Blowhard.) We drove as far as Base Beta on the edge of the sector, but didn't see so much as a bullet hole. 

    Thursday the other girls got fed up and confronted Mentor Antonia. The bravest of them (Blowhard, in fact) knocked on the senior barracks, while her friends hooted and cheered her on. Our Mentor opened the door immediately. 

    'Yes?' She was in simple unarmored fatigues, but she somehow wore them with an air of austere competence. 

    'Yo, we, um ... we would like to submit a command request, sir.'

    She merely raised an eyebrow.

    'Can we, uh, can we engage some of the enemy, sir?'

    Mentor Antonia smiled and looked them over.

    'Okay.'

    'Yo, you're serious??'

    'Yes. Everyone in the cars in twenty.'

    There was much whooping. Even I whooped, quietly. Lysa just grinned. 

* * *

    The sky was a fiery orange by the time we rolled out. The sky was immense on this planet. The CQCs were really happy, punching shoulders and shooting lasers into the ground. Actually, I couldn't blame them.

    We rumbled downhill at a very bumpy pace. We were borrowing one of the bomb launchers from the base towers, which Blowhard was crewing beside me. 

    'Our target,' said Mentor Antonia over the radio, 'is Base Lima, which is currently under Circle control. We're going to do a driveby first, once around. We are going to fall back out of range if they answer with equivalent resistance. If they do not present enough resistance my car - and my car only - will storm the base. Car Two will support or fall back at Quixota’s discretion, while remaining mobile. Over.'

    I pumped my fist surreptitiously. I was in the front car! I was in the van, like furious Achilles. I power-cycled my rifle and double-checked the battery. 

    We killed the headlights when we were ten minutes away. There was a lot of shhing in the back seats. I inventoried: rifle, four batteries, fully loaded cylinder pistol, an ion grenade and a concussion grenade. Time for my first day on the job. 

    Base Lima was supposedly in the center of a big, weathered crater downhill of us. I craned my neck but the crater's edge obscured everything below the base's comms antenna, gleaming in the sun. The enemy had fixed a Circle flag to it. It shuddered in the steady wind, and I thrilled.

    When we crested the ridge, I saw why we hadn't run into any enemies this whole time. We went over it with one of those little jumps that feels like going into space for just a second, and we skidded a little on the red gravel. We descended into a broad basin of red sand, in the center of which was ...

    'Is that ... a golf course?!' I said, squinting in the sun. 

    'I think it's like a big ass little forest, man,' postulated Blowhard beside me. 

    We drove cautiously towards the anomalous patch of green below us. It was at least five minutes away, but it still looked pretty large in area, maybe the size of a small stadium. It had trees, and very bright grass, and a sparkling river. The base's towers gleamed in the middle of the woods. It all looked really great to us in our dusty combat gear. 

    'An oasis!' I heard Lysa shout over the radio.

    'Boss, yo, can we go swimming?' said Blowhard.

    'No, soldier,' said our Mentor.

    'Aww, c'mon sir, why not?'

    'Because there is resistance.'

    And then ten camouflaged figures, just a stone’s throw away, stood up and opened fire. 

* * *

    'The winner is the artist with the more elegant performance.'

    This was my best teacher's motto. Ms Dohi, the Vertical War veteran. She was as tall as my shoulder, and her black hair was half as long as her. Definitely one of those competitive Vega women. And it was easy to see the results. In her office hung her doctorate in Campbellian film, and on her chest hung her Iron Heart.

    'The opening of violence, the introduction of projectile exchange, this is the most primal possible way to begin a narrative. The eyes are widened, the heart is engaged, the knees bend as the audience enters the story.' 

    I did all her assigned reading. Her Narrative Infantry Ops class was my favorite. It really made me see combat from a new angle.

    '...In this framework, then, to engage the foe with the classical honor, with urgency, is to accelerate the close of the ritual. To stand ground in Bushidic valor is to combat not just the foe, but combat itself. A more honest, Coverful attitude to violence is the embracing of covert actions. The soul of taking cover is iterative, a repeating dialectic of attack and retreat. Coverful warfighting is mutual, constructive, and compassionate. Hiding from the foe, engaging in mutual search, killing from behind, these are relationships of respect for the foe's mind, celebration of the foe's agency.'

    Accordingly, when the Circle ambush started shooting holes in the sides of the car, I took five quick breaths and jumped out onto the sand. When I stopped rolling, the cars were roaring away uphill, but at least the dust of their wakes obscured me. Coverful warfighting is about pushing the envelope. Changing the gamestate.

    Lying low on my stomach, I unhooked my concussion grenade and got ready to toss it at my enemies' feet. I only needed to stay unnoticed until it detonated, then I would have the advantage. 

    Unfortunately, in the next instant my concentration was interrupted by a giant

    - BOOM -

    as something unnecessarily high-powered punched a hole in my chest. Everything went numb and I started to fade. The last thing I saw was a Circle girl with big goggles pumping her fist as my own grenade went off in my hand. 

* * *

    T R Y  T W O.

    I woke up in a small bed with thick sheets. I was back in Forward Base Rho. Lysa was there, wearing a dress and writing in a black notebook.

    She smiled. 'Finally, you're awake!'