#i guarantee you there's going to be a lot more barking after the next three chapters. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sunmoonjune · 4 years ago

Text

like the moon [three]

pairing: poly!ot8 ateez x fem!OC!reader

warnings: blood, cursing, injury, death, mentions of giving up/dying, talk of medical procedure, also probably a lot of medical inaccuracies tbh (google only helps so much xD), I lie about the member’s blood types, angst. there is a mention of the reader’s skin becoming paler/duller than it’s normal shade, but only in allusion to blood draining - it’s not meant to characterize the oc/readers skin tone! idk if it came across that way :(

word count: 4.7k

[chapter two] chapter three [chapter four]

You don’t recall much after Hongjoong pulls you and Yunho apart.

Vaguely you can recall the feeling of someone attempting to drag you out of the cavern. With your body finally giving in to exhaustion once more, your limp form was maneuvered out of the clan leader’s room before Jongho grew annoyed and roughly scooped your body into his arms. You barely remember the feeling of his calloused hands on your skin, but the memory still makes you shiver – touch is still difficult to process.

The next thing your hazy mind can decipher is your wrists bound behind you. Rough bark scrapes against your skin and the muscles in your upper arms strain in their locked position. Jongho is certainly not gentle as he drags your wrists into a suitable position, and he binds them together with a long, worn piece of rope. Your chest burns with each inhale, and you can nearly guarantee your ribs have been bruised, if not worse. Bruised ribs would be the least problematic of injuries, and you can only hope they haven’t broken.

You don't struggle as the muscular boy binds you to the trunk of a large tree. You've lost far too much energy to struggle against him now. Or at least, that’s the excuse you tell yourself as your worn body slumps against the harsh bark pressed into your back. With the injuries you’ve sustained and the weakened state of your body, you fear that you wouldn’t put up much of a fight if you struggled. Besides, Jongho is far stronger than you are – at least in a physical sense.

In a fair fight, perhaps you could outmaneuver him in speed or battle intelligence, however you are unlikely to retain enough strength for a ‘fair fight’ anytime soon. The notion is frightening.

You ponder the possibility of giving up. Maybe just once, you could finally let go. It wouldn’t be hard; you could spin some lie that would force Hongjoong to administer the proper punishment. If the result was your death, perhaps you would finally deserve the rest you were never given. Though, even the thought of such a plan was daunting.

For the first time in a long while, you don’t know what will greet you when you close your eyes. Despite that, you finally exhale a deep breath and succumb to the release of unconsciousness.

You don't know how much time passes.

It could have been hours, it could have been days. All you can feel is the consistent, throbbing pain in your ribs and the hammering pulse in your skull. Your vision fades in a blurring manner, and you can safely assume that you are definitely concussed, at the least.

For a few moments in waning consciousness, another member of the camp reassess the ties binding your arms and legs, as well as attempting to give you some food or water. Their endeavors are typically fruitless. Water spills out the sides of your mouth and you can barely surmount the energy to swallow the little liquid that manages to find its way between your lips. The food remains uneaten after your stomach revolts and you regurgitate the first few bites.

Yeosang, the blonde healer, has seen you twice since you’ve been tied up.

The first was to check your bandages, and the second time, he pressed a damp rag against your forehead and checked your vitals. Once he ensured you weren’t in any imminent danger, he did not return. Though you do not know if it was due to his own volition or if he was ordered to stay away. It seemed each time he visited, the eyes of the rest of camp followed him, and he kept his checks brief - likely in an attempt to reduce prying eyes.

You haven’t seen Yunho since you revealed what happened. Although this time, you’re quite sure he keeps his distance due to his own accord rather than their leader’s. It hurts to imagine a world in which Yunho won’t accept you anymore – a world without his love and care. Though it seemed that reality may not be too fictional. He had a new home now - a new family. He probably didn’t need you anymore.

Not in the same way you needed him.

On what you assume is the sixth day since your arrival, another male approaches the tree to which you’ve been tied. You don’t recognize him. His black hair rests slightly damp against his forehead and his skin is golden in the light of the setting sun. A longbow is strung across his back and a quiver is not far from its counterpart.

For a moment, you wonder if he’s come to execute you. Perhaps this handsome man planned to drag you into the forest and stick an arrow between your eyes. Quite frankly, you’re sure you deserve it - no one had ever told you otherwise, spare Yunho of course. Though, you would have liked to see him once more – to intertwine your pinkies and try to tell him you were sorry.

The man stops when he’s a few feet away, as if gauging your reaction. His steps are quiet and planned, and you can tell he’s an excellent hunter. Despite your hazy mind and waning consciousness, his dexterity and careful maneuvering is exemplary of a skilled huntsman. If he was here to kill you, you wonder what he’s waiting for.

When your head sags downwards, too tired to maintain its own weight, he deems it safe to approach. He's gentle, maneuvering carefully and ensuring that his movements are obvious and slow so that you are not frightened of his approach. It’s a little unnerving - no one in the village ever treated you in such a manner. They were never careful, and did not go out of their way to ensure that you were not uncomfortable. In fact, they may have wanted the opposite.

Your eyes slide shut for a moment as you inhale deeply, attempting to control the aching throb in your ribs and the numbing feeling spreading through your arms. There’s the sound of leaves crunching beneath heavy boots and the soft noise of the man lowering himself to your side. He’s quiet for a moment – something you deeply appreciate. When you manage to lift your hazy eyes to his form, you realize his soft irises are on your gazing at you. He remains still for a moment before raising his arms and grasping the wooden longbow.

You jolt.

He’s going to shoot you right here.

You’re terrified. After all the war and death you had seen, after all the injuries and punishment you had faced - you thought you wouldn’t fear this moment. At the forefront of your mind, you had convinced yourself that death may have been better, easier. Perhaps you’d no longer be in pain and you could finally be rid of the mask that shrouds your sight and your mind.

However, now - with the man reaching for his elegant longbow and pulling his quiver to the side - you’re terrified. Death is a concept all too unknown. Despite the pain you’ve felt thus far, an endless darkness is still too daunting to imagine. Your stomach twists painfully and the nausea returns. Your throat swells and the acid pushes at the back of your mouth so painfully you think you can taste it. Heart pulsing wildly, your fingers twitch as they pull at the threads of the rope binding them. It aches to fidget with the tiesi, ribs throbbing in protest and head ringing, but your panic only fuels your struggle.

You want to live more, to see more. You want to watch Yunho experience happiness and bury your sister so she can finally rest. You long to explore and finally be free – to be seen as more than just a weapon - a mistake. You ache to live a life without stone walls and vengeful eyes surrounding your every turn.

As much pain as this life brings you, you want more of it – in the hopes that the good will one day outweigh the bad.

The man must recognize your growing fear as he lowers the bow to the ground, pressing it into the damp leaves. He slides the quiver off his back and places it by the bow’s side. Slowly, he pushes both away from him: a show of good faith.

He’s not going to kill you. At least not now. Not today.

When your shoulders lose their tense position, the man allows a little smile to pull at his lips. Your mind, beginning to slow the frantic pace, barely registers how kind he looks when his eyes soften. You exhale painfully as your muscles return to their relaxed state, hiding an aching wince when your ribs shift. Your fingers feel cold and numb, as well as your feet.

The man is looking at your mask. His eyes, though gentle, feel as though they see completely through the hardened, black material that shadows your face. Your stomach continues to roll with hesitant tension, and you wither under his stare. Shifting your single eye back to your feet, you try not to flinch as he scans the material once more.

The stranger takes a soft, deep breath.

“My name’s Seonghwa,” he starts, voice deep and sweet, “M’the one who found you.”

His voice was soft. The serene sound seems to soothe your aching body enough to allow you to meet his eyes once more. You incline your head slightly – just enough to imply your thanks. He seems to understand the gesture as the edge of his mouth lifts in another delicate smile. It warms your body, but the feeling is confusing. You’re not sure why his expression makes your heart pulse a bit quicker and your skin feel tingly. It must be due to the wounds that litter your body, you cannot fathom another explanation.

“Yunho told us-” Seonghwa hesitates, “told us what he thinks happened. Hongjoong is skeptical. But he’s always been that way – doubtful, I mean. He just wants to keep us safe.”

With your head lowered, you huff at his explanation. It’s the only expression you can muster in response. Though you’re not completely sure why you even express the effort. You couldn’t care less what the others did when they came to check your restraints or attempt to feed you. They obviously didn’t seem to care much either. None were nearly as gentle as Seonghwa appears to be. This man showed you more kindness than nearly anyone you’d ever met, all in the first minute of meeting you. Maybe it’s his sweet inclination, though your heart tells you differently. He's the first one to treat you like a human instead of a murderer or a traitor.

The notion warms your aching heart. He reminds you a little of your sister: gentle and sweet, caring for others even if she had no connection to them.

“I don’t see it that way though. He thinks you could be a killer or an assassin or something.” Seonghwa chuckles a bit, “I think you were just trying to protect your family.”

With a jerk, your head snaps up to meet his eyes. He was the first to see some truth in your story. No one else had questioned why, they simply saw you as a killer in the state you had been. Perhaps the healer might see you differently, but you couldn’t be sure.

The sweet boy smiles softly at your recognition, knowing his hunch was proven correct. He shuffles a bit closer and inclines his head towards yours. You can’t help but wonder how he knew.

“Besides, Yunho used to talk about you. When he first arrived at camp, he was...” He hesitates, as if wondering how to word his answer, “...scared. He wouldn't talk to anyone the first few days. He finally opened up to me after a couple of weeks. He never mentioned your name, though I had assumed it was because he didn’t want people knowing who you were.” He hesitates one more, this time you know he’s afraid to hurt you with his next words. “I never thought it was because you didn't have a name at all.”

You’re able to huff a bit at the notion, though the immense pain you receive at the motion causes you to wince and halt. The sound doesn’t come out, but the soft shaking of your chest seems to alert Seonghwa to your reaction. The image of Yunho being so scared and shy seemed so foreign to you. He’d always been the strongest of your trio. The protector, not the protected.

Laying your head back against the tree, your body sags once more. Your legs are ridiculously stiff from their position folded underneath you but you can’t bring yourself to move them. Besides, the minor stiffness is nothing compared to the stinging in your ribs and forehead. As you inhale short breaths, you let your body relax against the tree, fatigue continuing to take your body ransom. It’s strange, feeling your limbs slowly turn numb and lose their sense of touch. Though, you’ve felt similar before. Many times in the past, you had experienced several infected wounds and injuries that toed the line of death. You had long grown used to the feeling of trivial wounds becoming infected.

Seonghwa eyes you for a moment, wondering if you’ll say something in response. When you don’t and the pregnant pause becomes awkward he speaks again, “Hongjoong hasn’t decided what he wants to do with you yet. M’sorry, you might be out here a little longer.”

He sounds guilty. You almost chuckle, if it weren’t for the tightness in your chest and searing pain, that is. Seonghwa looks at you for a moment and inhales sharply. He finally takes notice of the quick rises and falls of your chest and the heaving breaths, as if it takes an enormous effort to inhale and exhale. There’s a line of sweat across your forehead and he hesitates. A dark and a cool breeze ruffles his hair and goosebumps prick his skin.

You shouldn’t be sweating.

His eyes linger around your closed ones, watching as they wince when you try to take bigger breaths. It isn’t until you shiver once, that he comments.

“Are you alright? Yeosang said you might have a couple broken ribs.”

You crack open an eye with immense effort and manage a glare. You’re in too much pain and far too tired to elicit a response. None of the others seemed to care about your condition. Yeosang only came to check your temperature and make sure you were still breathing, likely trying to gauge if your wounds had been infected.

Seonghwa sighs at your response, “Sorry, I should have assumed.”

Wearily, you close your eye again and rest back against the tree, trying to fight off the shiver that trembles through your body. You’re a little confused as to why you were sweating and shivering at the same time, but you put it off as your body straining against your wounds and the chilly breeze that flutters between you and the handsome boy in front of you.

For a moment, you can feel Seonghwa’s eyes on you again before the sound of shuffling reaches your ears. You can’t force yourself to look back at him as he moves, too focused on trying to breathe properly.

There’s a hand against your brow-line and a huff of breath, “Shit. Have you been losing blood?”

You’re able to crack your eyes open, it’s not much but you manage a glance at your skin. With a shuddering breath and a sinking chest, you realize that the skin of your hands and the beginning of your ankles have a barely-there off color tint to them. Your skin looks duller then it should be, as if the blood was being drained from it altogether.

Heaving a heavy breath out of shock, you startle yourself by inhaling too quickly. Your chest shakes as your body begins to cough. And fuck - it’s one of the most painful things you’ve experienced. Sharp, heavy pain strikes through your chest as you cough. The pain throbs in your ribs and your chest and tears prick your eyes from the excruciating ache. You heave over and attempt to press your tied hands against the apex of your chest. A tear leaks out of your eye as you attempt to get your breathing under control again.

Seonghwa brings his other hand up to your other shoulder in an attempt to steady you. You can’t bring yourself to shrink away from his touch. His pupils are blown wide. The pain shivers through you and you can’t bring yourself to lean back against the tree. You slump against Seonghwa’s body, who had moved closer in your coughing fit. Your body is weak, cold sweats running up and down your chest eliciting the shakes again. It seems the infection you suspected has traveled quicker than you thought.

A pair of warm fingers raise to your neck, placing his pointer and middle finger against your throat to feel the beat of your heart. There’s a muttered curse as Seonghwa realizes how fast your pulse is.

“Fuck. When was the last time you’ve eaten anything?” He asks, attempting to pull your head up to face his eyes. He’s got both hands pressed against your cheeks as he stabilizes you. You manage to gently shake your head as you continue to take short, quick breaths in an attempt to fill your lungs. “Drank anything?” He questions again. Another shake of your head.

His hands are warm.

Perhaps it has something to do with the onset of a fever, but Seonghwa’s hands are gentle and heat the skin of your cheeks in a pleasant feeling. You don’t understand why it feels nice. Touch is so foreign, and you mostly associate it with pain. It’s so strange to feel Seongwha’s delicate hands grazing your cheeks and holding your face.

Another curse slips from Seonghwa’s mouth as he whips his head back towards the main area of camp.

“Yeosang!” He cries. “Yeosang, quickly!”

There’s a moment where you can’t make anything out but the feeling of Seonghwa’s hands against your cheeks. It’s nice. You haven’t been touched so softly since Yunho left so long ago. His hands are rough, especially his middle and ring fingers. It’s likely due to the constant use of the longbow he carries with him. You let yourself get lost in the feel of his hands as you try to think of anything other than the pain in your chest.

There’s a mumbling above you as Seonghwa shifts and a hand is taken away from your skin. Your eyes flutter and you almost pout in the absence of the touch. Though the feeling is quickly once again replaced with pain. Fatigue is still lingering and pounding against your forehead and you have half a mind to succumb to it - if it means an escape from the pain in your ribs.

“Don’t pass out.” The order comes from above your head - Seonghwa again. “Don’t do it. You’re lucky enough the concussion didn’t take you before.”

You huff at him, eyes closed. There’s a part of you that tells you to ignore him and pass out anyway. You struggle to ignore it and keep yourself awake.

There’s footsteps, quick ones. More than one set too. Then, there’s hands on you. A set is grabbing your shoulders and pulling you away from Seonghwa. They're brushing against your forehead, then feeling the pulse at your neck and once more pulling up the shirt on your chest to inspect your ribs. There’s talking, hurried and frantic but all you can hear are indistinguishable mumbles. It’s as if you’re submerged and transported back to listening to a village soldier hurl insults at you as he forced your head underwater.

Shaking off the memory and attempting to come back to reality, you wearily manage to mumble a few words in a terrified plea, “Yun-” an unsettling cough interrupts you.

“Yunho.”

You can vaguely hear Seonghwa reassure you, before there’s another set of hands ripping away the rope around your hands. Then, you’re being lifted. Whoever carries you must be hurried, as you jolt around in their arms.

You must not be carried far, or perhaps you fade between the lines of consciousness, as you’re quickly being set onto a hard surface covered by a thin blanket. There’s a set of hands at your collar before they grasp your shirt at its neckline.

There’s a disgruntled - “San!” - exclaimed before the shirt rips away from your skin. You’re disgruntled at the reveal, and even in your weak state, there’s a half-hearted motion to shield your larger scars from prying eyes. Before you even have a hand raised, your head knocks back and you fall unconscious.

“Fuck!” San cries, “She’s out.” He’s scrambling to pull your shirt away from your chest, eyes scanning your ribcage as he sets his eyes on a bruised section. He lets his hands scan the area before he’s softly pressing his hands against your ribcage, feeling the bone for abnormalities. He curses when his hands confirm his rapid thoughts.

Yeosang is at your head, already propping your head and scanning your body for symptoms and running through treatments categorically based on what he finds. “Cyanosis, cold sweats, abnormal breathing-” he’s muttering under his breath as he rushes away from your body to rustle around the med-bay for what he’s looking for.

“She’s shattered ribs five through seven on her left side,” San’s speaking as he scans your chest, “likely brute force - there’s no puncture wound. Short breaths and chest pain are obvious, but there’s no signs of infection in any exterior wounds, so her symptoms are affiliated with something internal rather than external. It’s gotta’ be her rib cage, maybe a rupture of the spleen or-”

He’s cut off by the med-bay door slamming open and a head of dark hair appearing in the doorway. Yunho’s heavy steps enter the room as he lunges for your bedside.

“What happened?” He cries, “What the fuck s’going on?”

His eyes are moving faster than his brain can collect information. All he sees is your dulling skin and the nasty bruises on your rib cage overlapping with past scars. He grasps one of your limp hands and presses his lips against the back of your fingers, heaving panicked gasps.

Yeosang is the one that whips around this time, his hands holding a hollowed tube between his fingers and a small scalpel in the other. “Pneumothorax,” he murmurs as he moves things off tables in his rush to find something, “I’ve seen it before: brute force related trauma, air surrounding the lungs due to broken or shattered ribs. Cyanosis is a big tell, but I should have seen it sooner-” He’s mumbling rapid information under his breath as he continues to search for something.

San huffs a surprised breath and Yunho turns to him, “What the fuck is he talking about, s’wrong with her?”

“Her lungs are collapsing,” San replies with wide eyes. The wind is knocked out of Yunho’s chest as his head turns back to your limp body. His pulse quickens and his stomach turns anxiously. He can hear the beat of his heart in his eardrums, the sound muffling the rest of Yeosang’s frantic mumbles.

“What does that mean?” Yunho tries, frantically, “Is she going to die?” Yunho’s head is racing and his heart feels tight in a way that makes him sick. When his eyes shift from San’s frantic hands to your unconscious form, Yunho feels the bubbles nausea in his stomach grow. It transforms from a flicker of a wave to an anxious storm, forcing bile into the back of his throat as he takes in the battered state of your form. It’s not the first time he’s seen you injured like this, but each time feels somehow worse than the last.

He’s only just gotten you back – he’s unsure if he’ll be able to handle losing you again so quickly.

San shakes his head as he quickly gets up to join Yeosang’s side, “Not if we can help it.”

The two healers begin rustling through various supplies strewn across the table top and shifting through drawers as quickly as they can. Yunho doesn’t pay much attention to their search, knowing his efforts would only get in the way. Yeosang and San work very well together - especially under pressure. Interrupting their focus to ask questions would only slow them down.

“One of her shattered ribs probably pierced it. Air is leaking into areas where it shouldn’t, and we have to drain it.” Yeosang fills in, “We need to puncture her chest to filter out the excess oxygen and let the tube inflate her lungs naturally.”

“I need something to sterilize this!” San cries over Yeosang, “Get me some alcohol or something, Yunho please! There’s no time to heat this up but it’s the best we can do. We’ll have to keep a close eye for infection when this is through.”

Yunho hesitates, taking another look at you before San is yelling again.

“Yunho! Now!”

Then he’s on his feet and racing out of the med-by door. His heart hammers in his chest and pounds in his ears, but Yunho obeys San’s command. The usually gentle healer does not shout under most circumstances, so Yunho knows a firm command from San is essential. There’s a moment of silence after Yunho departs the medical cavern, then Yeosang finds all the materials he needs and is quick to deposit them at your side.

“There’s going to be a lot of bleeding, San. The second the tube is adjusted, I need you to put pressure on the wound. We’re gonna’ have to leave the tube in, but we should be able to staunch the blood to give us enough time to cauterize the wound around it.”

San is nodding along as Yeosang speaks, his mind already seeming to know exactly what his partner would say. In moments like this, it seems as though the two healers operate on the same wavelength. They shift simultaneously and move before the other commands, as if they know exactly what the other is thinking.

“I’m ready for a transfusion if she loses too much blood. There’s no telling what her blood type is, but I can get Woo here if we need it – he's the only O negative donor in camp.”

Yeosang nods and starts preparing his tools as Yunho races back into the room. He’s got a bottle of the strongest alcohol he could find gripped in his fingers, and he shoves it into San’s hands as soon as his feet halt. San immediately uncaps it and begins pouring it over the scalpel and the other instruments in front of the boys.

Yeosang looks back over to San with a question in his eyes. “Ready? I need you with me.”

A quick nod.

Then Yeosang plunges the scalpel between your ribs.

Bonus:

San: You’re losing too much blood! What’s your type?

Reader: tall, dark hair, carries an axe.

Yunho: ...

Yeosang: Your blood type, you idiot!

note: damn Sannie, you’ve known her for a minute and you’re already ripping clothes off?? jk jk xD anyways pls forgive the many medical inaccuracies here, it was difficult to find some injury that seemed severe but not too severe,,, if that makes any sense. my search history is probably a little weird from everything I googled for this lol

next chapter

Taglist: If I forgot anyone pls message me! I’m so sorry if I did :( let me know if you guys change urls and want to be tagged as something else too!

@verseoks @multilovee @jenduexie @slfmint @smallfrye @istgcyj @delightfulturkeypainteroaf @sanslostairpod @2504-life @hwas0ng @yourgalxy @exo-xing

#ateez x reader #ateez x you #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #yunho x reader #mingi x reader #yeosang x reader #wooyoung x reader #san x reader #jongho x reader #ateez imagine #ateez headcanons #ateez au #poly!ateez #poly!ateez x reader #polyamorous

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costellos · 4 years ago

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author’s note: I like to think that this takes place shortly after the gang realizes that they’re in love! I also wanted to take a more harem route on this (bc this blog is all about self indulgence, duh) so there are more mentions of the boys getting jealoooous ꉂ(´艸`●) anywho, I had a blast writing this and I hope you have a blast reading it!!

❥ ┋ ❝ bucci gang & how you know that they’re in love!

bruno bucciarati.

tries not to make it obvious that he’s assigning more missions with you. Bucciarati tries to sprinkle in assignments where you work alone when he can; those days, he’ll tag along in the car just to spend a little more time with you. this infuriates Fugo to no end.

(you can’t help but notice Fugo being unusually snarky at most everything Bucciarati says during the ride.)

he starts to ask for your opinion on how to handle new missions. part of it is because he genuinely values your take, part of it is to spend time alone with you. ↳ “ah... I see. you make a valid point there. I’m glad that I came to you first, you always have such valuable insight.”

Bucciarati had always requested an update after a mission’s completion, but recently, those conversations seem to go longer. he asks more details about the mission, if there was anything interesting about it. if you mention you got hurt, he’ll ensure you get the best care Italy has to offer.

like a true gentleman, he always makes time to walk you home at night. you live on the opposite side of time from him, and despite your protests, he insists that it’s fine. ↳ “please, [Name]. I’d rather do this than wake up tomorrow to find that something happened to you.”

sometimes old ladies will giggle if they see you and Bucciarati on walks together. if you ask what they think is so funny, they’ll comment that it’s so nice to see him finally making time for relationships.

he’s smooth about brushing them off, however. he calls you a good friend, but subtly hints that he’s interested in entering the dating world.

unofficial first date: he takes his time walking you home after a meeting. casually suggests that you should walk along Naples’s port. after all, it’s a warm summer night. why waste it? he would let you carry the conversation since he loves hearing your voice, and would only chime in as he sees fit. you note that throughout the entire night, Bucciarati has a smile on his lips.

leone abbacchio.

obviously not as rude as usual. he’ll still make snippy comments at you as he sees fit, but he also offers praise (a concept that you’re not quite used to yet). with enough time, those snippy comments turn into teasing. ↳ “jesus, [Name], you want three shots? was Mista really that unbearable to partner with this week?”

once that happens, he’ll direct his comments to the others. he’s ruthless when it comes to insulting the others’ attempts at wooing you (especially if it’s Giorno). Narancia will be the first to object, calling him out on trying to impress you too.

he’ll just shrug when this happens. it’s not his fault that their motives are so apparent.

anyway, Abbacchio has always been the type to put the mission before anything else. but during a particularly rough stand battle, you notice that he made the extra effort to guarantee your safety. though you do try to confront him, he brushes it off. ↳ “we wouldn’t have been able to advance without you. fight harder next time so I don’t have to save your ass again.”

you can’t help but notice the slight pink on his cheeks. caught red-handed, it seems.

if you’re going on a mission by yourself, Abbacchio will take the time to stop you and wish you good luck. brief and straightforward, nothing too fancy.

he’s willing to do things if you ask. before he’d tell you to ask someone else, but now... he might scoff or sigh or do nothing at all, but he’ll still accept.

surprisingly, he becomes the most comfortable to be around when things get quiet. Abbacchio is a firm believer that strong relationships don’t need to have mindless chatter. if you don’t have anything to say, he won’t push it, and that’s okay. no awkward silences will come from him.

unofficial first date: he invites you back to his place after a meeting. it’s raining and he doesn’t live far. he would make you any drink you fancy, but would be especially amused if you requested alcohol. it’s a casual affair; talk a little, watch some TV if that’s your thing. would let you stay the night if you wanted to! he wouldn’t make it weird, though. he’d just make his bed for you while he takes the couch.

giorno giovanna.

he starts talking to you more than anyone else in the gang. you took Giorno as the kind of person who won’t speak unless spoken to during moments of peace, so to have him casually start conversation with you feels... odd. but not uncomfortable.

he’s not fond of fighting for your attention amongst the gang. hence, he tries to make small yet meaningful impressions on you. he’ll order your usual at Libeccio if you’re running late (you didn’t even tell him what it was, he picked up after countless meetings) or leave you your favorite dessert at your doorstep on your days off (he remembered it from an off-hand comment).

on that note, Giorno starts leaving little things around for you, such as a single flower on your desk. small gifts that he knows would make you happy, even if for a moment. he himself gets happy thinking about your smile.

he would compliment you if he found it appropriate (usually for your fighting), but now he compliments you on everything. just in quieter ways. ↳ “you coordinated this plan flawlessly, [Name]. I truly wonder if there’s anything you can’t do.”

surprisingly, he also starts teasing you. nothing major, he just starts being more friendly toward you. his nonchalant exterior melts for something more familiar. ↳ “you must really like the rain. that’s the third time this week you’ve forgotten an umbrella. it’s alright, though, I brought one for the both of us.”

he’s honestly a pro at handling Abbacchio’s accusations. he plays it cool, saying that you’ve both gotten closer lately. he emphasizes the “closer” part, though. it might be considered sadistic on his part, but he enjoys watching his superior get annoyed.

(which, of course, irritates Abbacchio a lot.)

unofficial first date: he asks you to accompany him to his campus; apparently his school has rare frog species in the bio labs and he needs to observe it “for reference.” walks you through the biology department and shares what he knows about each species present. he loves amusing you with neat little fun facts, but he loves seeing your face light up at the cute little creatures more.

guido mista.

he’s the first to compliment you. about anything, really. how well your new shirt fits you, how your skin looks a little brighter today. all of it is genuine, and all of it is to see you smile just from something that he said. Giorno comments that he’s being overbearing.

(he retaliates by saying that there’s no harm in being nice to another teammate. Mista tries to be nonchalant about it, but he’s actually embarrassed that he’s that easy to read.)

he’ll follow you around everywhere. if you say that you’re going to run to the corner store before the meeting starts, he’ll tag along. if you mention you’re going to Chiaia this weekend to go shopping, he’ll casually mention that he’s going there too and that you should meet up.

the Pistols start paying more attention to you. they’ll dance around your shoulders, play on your hands — anything to get your attention. Mista gets flustered when this happens and barks at them to come back. ↳ “oi, what the hell do you think you’re doing?! leave them alone!”

this rarely works, though.

(Mista never even gets the chance to confess that he loves you. the Pistols do it before he can. because of that, he would likely be the first to confess to you.)

he’s a sucker for pop culture. if he hasn’t watched it, he’ll tune in to any movie or TV show that you like. he’s desperate to get closer to you so there really isn’t a downside to this, even if he doesn’t like it. he’d then talk about it to you, discussing plot elements and whatnot. ↳ “whaaaa? okay, okay, okay. back up. so he purposely killed himself to force his kids to come together?”

unofficial first date: the most traditional out of the gang. he asks if you want to join him to watch a movie starring your favorite actor / actress. would pay for your ticket too, obviously. he tries to play it cool, though! just going as two friends.... yeah...... friends...... he won’t pull any funny business but he’d love to discuss your thoughts on the movie afterwards.

narancia ghirga.

Narancia is the most obvious about his feelings for you outside of Mista.

for one thing, he starts saving a seat for you next to him at Libeccio. Narancia gets defensive if anyone tries to take it. Bucciarati has to intervene by asking him to stop and let you sit wherever you want preferably next to Bucciarati himself.

likewise, he sits really close to you. like, shoulders-almost-touching close. he’d back away if you ask, however.

he’s bad at taking criticisms from the others (he would be the worst if it wasn’t for Fugo). if he gets called out by Bucciarati, he’ll sink in his seat and pout. if anyone else does it, he’ll challenge them and call them hypocrites. it’s an uncomfortable situation.

when that does happen, he’ll scoff and say that you should leave with him. ↳ “ugh, I can’t stand this place. c’mon, let’s go somewhere else.”

he’ll invite himself to your missions if he can beat Mista to it. insists that you need backup and that Aerosmith can guarantee your safety. after all, his stand is meant for detecting threats.

if he does manage to tag along, you notice that Narancia starts showing off during missions. not only does he fight more aggressively, he also has Aerosmith do all sorts of flashy moves.

he looks up to you so much. he sees you as a role model of sorts, often thinking what you would do in certain scenarios. it helps him rationalize situations and keep his cool under pressure. ↳ “okay. relax. what would [Name] do...?”

unofficial first date: he asks if you’d like to see something cool after shopping for snacks post-meeting. from there, he leads you to the rooftop of a nearby residential building. it’s a struggle to get up there since you have to climb an array of pipes and balconies to reach it, but he helps you up. it’s quiet on the roof, and you can peacefully talk about life with nothing but a couple sodas and the stars above you.

pannacotta fugo.

always volunteers to drive you to your missions. any more time with you is time well spent. Mista catches onto this quickly and will promptly tease him anytime Fugo offers a ride.

on that note, he gets really defensive if someone teases him about wanting to spend more time with you. hands down, he’s the worst at handling others calling him out. it might trigger an outburst regardless if they were joking or not.

oddly enough, however, he immediately relaxes if you so much as clasp his shoulder. part of it is that your touch is so gentle he can ease up. part of it is he’s embarrassed for losing control in front of you. he gets flustered afterwards. ↳ “I’m sorry you had to see me like that. let’s move on.”

he’s more patient with you than the others. he hates repeating himself, but you notice that he doesn’t seem to make an issue when it comes to you (much to Narancia’s chagrin).

if you’re going on a mission by yourself, Fugo makes the effort to stop you before you head out. he’d ask that you be careful and that if you need any help to let him know. however, he tries to cover that up and say that he knows you’re capable.

likewise, he’s a lot more doting on you now. he’s the first to check up on you following a mission. if you’re hurt, he wouldn’t hesitate to tend to you (not before chastising you). ↳ “tch. I told you to be more careful, and this is how you respond? you really are hopeless... but I’m glad that this cut isn’t anything major.”

he detests how the others act around you. how Mista and Narancia are always inviting themselves to your missions, how Bucciarati is quick to walk you back home, how cool Abbacchio is around you despite his own feelings... Fugo wishes he could be more forward with you, but he knows that’s just not who he is.

unofficial first date: he asks you to accompany him to the archives of a library. it’s for “research” he claims, to look up something relevant for the next mission. he would show you all the dumb records that the library contains. he loves sharing something so small with you! but he loves it even more when he can make you laugh. feeling something other than anger is an event he can only experience with you.

#bucci gang #jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #golden wind #giorno giovanna #bruno bucciarati #leone abbacchio #guido mista #narancia ghirga #pannacotta fugo #headcanons #captainfishiebishie #special thanks to captainfishiebishie for reminding me of those prompt!#this was a challenging prompt to tackle but I'm satisfied with how it came out :^)#also props to anyone who knows what show I referenced in Mista's blurb.....#it's a Netflix original that I'm WEEPING over right now #toya whisks u away

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iamjungkooked · 5 years ago

Text

All In

Synopsis:

Jeon Jungkook is everything you have ever desired in a partner. He’s kind, passionate, funny, honest, warm and every positive adjective in the dictionary. He totally gets you and you get him. He seems like the perfect guy for you, except he is dating your best friend. What could possibly go wrong?

The four times you get the wind knocked out of you by Jeon Jeongguk

Genre: Angst (a lot of it) + mild smut + a li’l bit of fluff but mostly angst

Pairing: Jungkook x female reader

Word count: 13.1k

A/N: a huge thank you to you if you read this. Any kind of feedback is appreciated ❤️ I hope you enjoy it!

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

So far there have been two times in your life where you have gotten the wind knocked out of you. The first was when you saw your favourite band in concert for the first time ever. The second is when you see Jeon Jeongguk across the room at your best friend’s party.

{3 years ago}

Standing in the corner of the room, you scan the crowd that has filled the house. As you continue your examination, your eyes catch a stranger across the room. He’s got a beer in one hand, and with the other, he is running a hand through his hair. To say you feel unsteady on your feet and can’t breathe would be an understatement. Immediately mesmerized by his smile, you find it hard to take your eyes off him. He catches your gaze across the room, and you immediately lower your eyes. Fidgeting with your phone, you leave from the crowded living room and make an escape for the front yard of Mina’s house, which is the only quiet place.

The night is silent, save for the sounds of crickets chirping into the distance somewhere. You amble quietly towards the tree in the yard, which is yours and Mina’s favourite spot. Dusting off the roots that protrude from the ground, you sit down and rest your head against the bark.

“I thought I saw someone heading in this direction” the nameless stranger from before makes an appearance, almost making you lose your balance even though you are sitting.

“Hi” you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear

“What are you doing out here leaving that awesome party?” he chuckles as he sits next to you, drawing his knees to his chest.

“It’s too loud. Not my kind of scene” you play with your hands in an effort to detract from the nervousness.

“Thought I was the only one”

You shake your head. “I took you for the parties-are-my-thing- kind of guy”

With eyebrows raised in surprise, he looks at you. “Really? What makes you say that?”

“Only the people swarming around you, and just your general aura. I guess” you shrug.

“Hmm” he nods in thought. “I am Jungkook, by the way” his hand crosses the gap between you, and he holds it in front of you.

You look at his hand for a moment, before sliding yours in. “I am y/n”

“Nice to meet you” his lips stretch in that perfect smile, which is capable of breaking hearts.

“So, if parties aren’t your thing, what do you like?” he asks after a moment of silence.

“Nature, books, Netflix of course, and people watching”

He laughs at your response and nods his head. “I haven’t met a single person to date who doesn’t like Netflix. But people watching, now that is something I haven’t heard before”

“I mean, you would have to be some kind of a monster to not like Netflix. People watching is a weird name for it, but more like observing my surroundings. People more so than other details.” you chuckle at the ridiculousness of it. “The human condition is very fascinating”

“How so?” his interest piques.

“You can learn a lot about someone just by looking at them. I don’t mean giving them a once over, but really observing them”

“So what did you learn about me?” he grins with a twinkle in his eyes.

“You are confident given your posture. Definitely an extrovert, since you just struck up a conversation with a random stranger. You keep an open and inviting body language, which tells me you aren’t afraid of showing your true self and letting people in. What else?” you pause in thought. “That is all I can think of right now”

“Was I just a part of the crowd or did I happen to strike your fancy? I saw you looking at me”

“Oh that…” your lower your gaze partly in nervousness and partly in embarrassment. “I am sorry if that was weird. I was looking around the room, and I saw you and just…” you trail off.

“It’s alright. I am happy you did. Otherwise, I would never have come up to you and I never would have known how intelligent and fascinating you are”

You didn’t expect him to respond like that which eases your nervousness, allowing you to gather the courage to look at him. “You are good at giving compliments. Thank you” you smile at him, heart beating slightly faster than usual.

“Actually, thank you. For saving me from boring conversations” he motions his head to Mina’s house. “I am glad I met you. I have seriously never met anyone like you”

“I have never met anyone like me either” your lips stretch into a grin.

“What do you gather about them?” Jungkook points to presumably a couple in the making sitting on the steps leading to the house.

“Why don’t you give it a shot?” you prompt with a crooked grin.

He mulls the offer for a moment. “Well…” he pauses as he studies the couple. “She’s leaning in, so she’s definitely interested. He might be interested but he’s put a little bit of distance between them. So maybe he’s not sure about her. She’s touching his arm, and she just threw her head back and laughed so she’s totally into whatever he said. Either that or she likes him so much that she’s just laughing at whatever. He’s fidgeting with his hands, so maybe he’s nervous” he looks to you for confirmation. “How am I doing so far?”

“You are a pro at it Mr. Jungkook”

His smile widens. “The effect of hanging out with intelligent people” he winks.

You chuckle and shake your head. “It’s funny isn’t it?”

“What?” he turns to look at you.

“It takes a lot for two people to be together. There are so many layers and so many complexities and so much drama involved. There is no guarantee that we’ll be happy once we find whatever we’re looking for. Yet, we’re all desperately searching for the one person who can give us the validation we need without even knowing where we will end up. It might be a good person or a bad one, but we never stop. It’s like actively looking for heartbreak, and that possibility is somehow better than being alone”

“Everyone wants to be loved. I don’t think it’s the feelings that we crave or even physical contact. I think it’s the fact that someone is choosing us for who we are. You know the whole package of good, bad, and ugly. That is why we have so many dating websites now. Everyone wants in” he replies looking at the couple who is still sitting on the steps.

He gets you. You can actually have a proper conversation with him. He’s the whole package too. He’s smart, and from what you can tell a genuinely kind guy. He’s not just a superficial guy, like many others you have met before who only want to talk about interests and hobbies, and likes or dislikes because those are the topics of conversation when you first meet someone. God forbid, you actually dig deeper and try to unravel the many layers of human personality.

“Do you want in?” you question.

“I-” he’s interrupted by Mina, who is approaching.

“Y/N!” she squeals and you move to stand up, but Jungkook is already offering you his hand.

You slide your hand in his and nod your head for a thank you.

“Oh my god! Thank god you guys met!” she exclaims. “I was so scared to introduce you guys to each other. But the universe took care of it for me” she looks heavenward and sighs.

You can smell the alcohol on her breath. Mina is a typical social animal. She’s got tons of friends, and whenever the occasion arises she hosts parties . Of course, like any other extrovert, she is constantly embroiled in the painful cycle of relationships. She’s had so many boyfriends over the years, you can’t even count anymore. Ever since you met her in grade 1, she’s always had someone she’s either crushing on, or she’s in a relationship with. She is the perfect example of people suffering from “love syndrome” as you like to call it. But she’s also your best friend because, despite everything, she will fiercely defend you if anyone hurts you, and she’s always there for you. She’s been through thick and thin with you and in the 2 decades of friendship, you have gone through a lot with her.

“What do you mean?” your brows knit together in confusion.

“Y/n, this is Jungkook. He’s my boyfriend”

You blink at her owlishly because there is no other way to respond. You never thought there would be a third time when you would feel like you have been sucker-punched. But this is it. This is the third time in your life when you felt like the wind was knocked out of you.

By the end of the night, all the fantasies you had built in your head about marrying him, having a cute family together, and living a cliche suburban life came crashing down.

Because Jeon Jeongguk is your best friend’s boyfriend.

*********

{Present day}

“Please do it!” Mina begs folding her hands, following you around like a child needing attention.

“No!” you shake your head as you pick up the cleaning agent and the cloth and head over to the table that was occupied by a group of high school students. Mina follows you to the table. You begin cleaning the mess the kids made.

“Why!?” she questions.

You can’t give her the real reason. So you settle for the whole I-don't-have-time-to-date-right now spiel. But there is only one reason why you don’t want to date: Jungkook. As hopeless, and wrong it is to have a one-sided love for him, you just can’t seem to invest in anyone else. As much as your instincts and reasoning contradict this stubborn desire of yours, you still can’t seem to detach yourself from the insufferable feelings.

He is, after all, Mina’s boyfriend. So that should make things easy. But not for you. It’s been three years since Mina and Jeongguk got together. It was three years ago you when your pining for him began and it’s three years later and you are still stuck in the same place. Sometimes being around him is suffocating. Sometimes you hate him for being the reason behind your inability to move on. It’s been three years and you have not understood what it is about him that appeals so much to you.

At first, it was the fact that you could have genuine conversations with him. But then you met Kim Namjoon, who is your ex-boyfriend. It was surprisingly easy with Namjoon. You could talk about the most superficial to the deepest things in the span of one conversation. Namjoon managed to stimulate your mind in a way most people can’t. Yet, it didn’t work out because of your inability to invest in the relationship. But you did end up getting another best friend out of it.

Being with Namjoon made you realize that it’s not that you could have genuine conversations with Jungkook that made you like him, but it was the unfathomable truth that you just liked him. That was all there was to it. Love without a reason is the hardest to grasp and it was no wonder you are having difficulties understanding your emotions.

“Bullshit!” Mina yells, startling you with her shrill voice. You turn around to face her.

“Bullshit? My choices are bullshit for you?”

“Yes. You have been doing this for so long to yourself that you can’t even see what you are doing is not good for you” she stares at you unyieldingly.

“If you really knew what I wanted, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. In fact, we wouldn’t even…” you feel the anger which is prompting you to act this way.

“Wouldn’t even what?” she folds her arms against her chest, and motions her head at you.

“Look” you sigh. “I have had a long day Mina. I can’t get into this and trust me it’s better this way” you begin to walk back to the cash counter and shut the tiny gate so Mina can’t enter

She is relentless in her pursuit of you as she follows you to the counter and leans against it. “Why can’t you just go on one date with Hoseok? He’s a perfectly nice guy!”

“Because I can’t date!” you reply.

I only want your boyfriend, which makes me the biggest bitch in the entire world.

“It’s not that you can’t. It’s just you don’t want to and I want to know why. I am not forcing you, babe. I am just worried for you” her brows furrowed together in concern.

“I am sorry Min. I love you but please drop this” you open the cash drawer and begin counting the bills.

“No. This has gone on forever” she digs her heels into the ground to prove to you just how serious she is.

You drop the bills you were holding in the cash drawer, and slam it shut. It’s good that the cafe has closed early because you can actually leave. You turn around and go to the back where you know Mina can’t follow you. But you can still hear her rambling by herself, which she does when she is pissed. You roughly take off the apron and instead of hanging it on the hook, you leave it on the floor. At this point, you just need to get away from her. Grabbing your coat from one of the other hooks, you go back out the way you came in.

Of course, Mina is still there, but she’s sitting in one of the booths, her eyes glued to her phone. You walk past her towards the door and hear her calling out. But instead of turning around you walk right out and take a right on the street. You have no idea where you are going, but you are too wired to try and figure it out.

You put in your headphones and pull the hoodie over your head. The sound of music instantly soothes the anger that had built up. You turn around to make sure she is not following you and when you find yourself on the street alone you let out a long exhale.

You don’t see it because you were somehow too busy gawking at the cobbled sidewalk, but you end up bumping into someone.

“I am so-” you stop midway because it’s none other than Jeon Jeongguk.

“Hi, stranger” he steadies you by putting his hands on your shoulder.

“Sorry I didn’t see you” you pull out your headphones and shove them in the hoodie pocket.

“Are you okay? You look a little stressed”

How he always knows what you’re feeling, you’ll never know. That is one of the things you like about him. You never have to say anything to him and he always knows how you feel, which at times makes you wonder if he is aware of your feelings towards him. If he is, then there is nothing worse and more embarrassing than that.

“Can’t hide anything from you, can I?” you sigh and look heavenward, and stretch your neck to the right.

“No. I know you extremely well” he rubs concentric circles on your arms, and that is when you realize he had been holding you the entire time.

“Your girlfriend and I just got into a little argument and I might or might not have been completely unreasonable and by default a bitch”

“Another date?” he questions, his hands still on your arms as he switches to gentle stroking. You almost want to move away, put some distance. But you like the feeling of him touching you too much to do that. At this point, all you want to do is, collapse in his arms, and let him hug all the negative energy away. But you can’t. It’s absolutely and completely wrong. Even wanting that, makes you feel like you are the worst human being to ever exist. You have to grapple with so much guilt every day that it’s a true wonder you still have the ability to feel the whole spectrum of emotions.

You remember he asked you a question and nod. You don’t even need to ask how he knows. He’s Jeongguk and he’ll always know. So, why you aren’t together despite being so perfectly in tune with one another, you don’t know.

“I am exhausted” you mumble, feeling your lip tremble and a lump form in your throat. It’s the worst possible moment to cry but he’s standing right there in front of you. You already feel too much from your conversation with Mina and now Jeongguk is there and you can’t help it. Loving him is the worst thing ever. It’s like drugs. You know they are bad for you, yet you can’t give them up. You realize what you had told him on the night you first met about human- beings actively looking for heartbreak.

The irony of that statement hits you because you are doing exactly that, despite telling yourself you never would. First guilt, then hurt, and now self-betrayal.

“Hey” he whispers in a soft voice, which makes it even harder to hold your tears back.

You sniffle as they fall one by one. You tuck your chin into your neck so he can’t see you. You should not be crying in front of your best friend’s fucking boyfriend. But there you are, doing exactly that. It almost feels cheap because you feel like you are forcing him to react in a way that he shouldn’t because he’s Jeongguk and he’s nice and he’ll do whatever he can do to comfort you. So knowing him you know what’s coming next.

Sure enough, he wraps one arm around your waist, and with his other, he gently pats the back of your head. You bury your face in his chest.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to” he continues to gently caress your hair.

You sniffle again and press your face in his chest further. He doesn’t say anything and holds you. But he shouldn’t because Mina isn’t there. It’s too intimate.

You sniffle again and remember how wrong this is. “I am sorry” you pull away from his arms.

Jeongguk almost looks shocked, and a little bit disappointed too. Maybe you are being delusional. He nods and slides his hands into his jean pockets. Neither of you say a word and stand in the middle of the sidewalk unable to look at each other.

“A-anyway” you croak. “You should go check up on Mina” you offer a weak smile.

His lips push into a thin line. “Take care y/n”

You walk past him, your arm brushing against his. A few steps down the sidewalk you look back and see him disappearing into the corner and then he’s gone. That's’ when you finally break down.

Why does it have to be him?

*********

Mina hasn’t spoken to you in 24 hours which is a record for her, considering she is a chatterbox. You don’t know how to approach this new development in your friendship. If anything, it strengthens your resolve of preventing Mina from knowing your feelings. Because if she is this angry when you refused a date with another guy, it’s easy to imagine how angry and hurt she would be if she knew your feelings.

The only person you can think of at the moment for help is Jeongguk. But you will be damned if you ask him. You need to stay as far away from him as possible and figure your life out because you have decided you cannot be a pathetic loser for the rest of your life. So the only way to kill two birds with one stone is to do what you are about to say.

“I’ll meet Hoseok” you glance at Mina and then pretend to flip through the magazine.

It’s silent. That is not what you were expecting. You look up to confirm if she is there and that she heard you. She is present alright. But she’s frozen at the spot, and she is staring at you with the eyes of someone in complete disbelief. If they open any wider, you are sure her eyeballs will pop out of their sockets.

“Are you serious?” she moves so quickly, you don’t even register she is sitting next to you on the couch.

“Yeah” you close the magazine.

“Oh my god. I never thought you would say yes!” she wraps you in a hug so fast that you both end up toppling over and you hit your back against the couch.

“I’ll go” you pat her on the back.

“Yes!” she squeals and sits up, allowing you to do the same. “Well, since I know how much you hate going on first dates, I already invited him over for dinner tonight” she looks at you with anticipation.

“How did you know I was going to say yes?”

“I know you better than you know yourself, honey” she laughs.

“That is true” you laugh with her.

“I cannot wait for you to meet him y/n. He’s so sweet and I am already imagining your cute babies together!” she exclaims and wraps you in another hug.

*********

Mina left the house to go get groceries. She wasn’t exactly a good cook, so obviously, Jeongguk was going to come over and cook for everyone. He was going to come anyway since Mina had arranged a dinner. He was perfect in every way possible. Mina was such a lucky person to have found him. He was lucky to find someone as caring as her too. The only unlucky person is you, who is stuck with horrible unrequited feelings.

It comes as no surprise that Jeongguk arrives earlier at your place. The weather suddenly takes a turn for the worse with lighting and thunder making a sudden appearance in the sky every so often. You can hear the wind howling outside the window. Jeongguk enters the house completely soaked.

“Oh my god Jeongguk” you exclaim and sidestep quickly to let the poor man in.

“I am okay” he sneezes.

“Yeah. Totally” you roll your eyes and take the bags from him and leave them on the kitchen counter. “By the way, Mina went to get groceries. I guess she didn’t inform you”

Jeongguk sighs and shakes his head. “As usual, she did not”

You hurry to the bathroom and grab a spare towel for Jeongguk. You hand it to him and he runs it through his black locks, which fall over his forehead. “I am going to wash up before I catch a cold” he sniffles.

“But your clothes…”

“Mina’s room” he supplies.

Your heart sinks. Of course, Mina has a spare set or two of his clothes. He is her boyfriend, you remind yourself.

“Right” you smile halfheartedly.

Jeongguk turns on his heels and disappears into the bathroom. While he’s gone you arrange the groceries on the counter so it’s easier for him when he’s cooking. You know you shouldn’t do nice things for him because it only makes you more attached. But somehow when you see him every resolve you have ever built goes out of the window.

{2 years ago}

“I wish I had met you before I met Mina” Jeongguk muses in his drunken state as you support him. If you knew holding him up would be such a nuisance, you would never have let him drink this much. Mina is a similar story if not worse. By the time you get into the taxi, Mina is already asleep and snoring away and Jeongguk is softly mumbling something you cannot make out. Shutting the backseat door, you get into the passenger seat and give the driver the address to your apartment which you share with Mina.

The car starts moving and you look back to find Jeongguk’s and Mina’s limbs entangled with each other. You chuckle and face forward, hoping that getting them into the apartment would be a better experience than getting them into the taxi. You arrive fairly quickly.

The taxi driver was kind enough to lend you a hand with Jeongguk, after you settle Mina into her bed. You give him an extra tip for kindness because you couldn’t have supported Jeongguk all by yourself, especially since people tend to feel heavier when they are asleep.

After paying for the taxi, you enter the apartment and take your shoes off at the entrance. You can hear Jeongguk rambling something in his sleep once more, and go to check on him. Throwing your purse on the coffee table, you crouch down and take his shoes off. Then you collapse next to him, feeling like all energy has been drained out of you.

Jeongguk snuggles up to you, which causes your breath to catch in your throat. “Jeongguk” you try to push away his arm from your waist, but he has you locked in. Even in a drunken state he’s that strong.

“Jeongguk” you call him again, hoping this time he would let you go.

“Just stay like this” he mumbles. “You smell good”

“I am y/n. Not Mina”

“I know. I am drunk but not that drunk” he tightens his hold around your waist and snuggles further into the crook of your neck. “Please. Stay. I like you y/n. Don’t leave me”

The moment he utters those words, you forget to breathe. He’s completely wasted and he won’t remember any of it which means you shouldn’t react to it at all because it’s meaningless. Yet, your body reacts. Your heart quickens, stomach tightens in knots. Out of guilt you glance at the partly closed door of Mina’s room.

“No you don’t. You’re drunk” you manage to say as you turn to look at him. His eyes are closed and he’s half asleep yet he insists he isn’t that drunk.

“I know you think I am wasted. But drunk people don’t lie y/n. I like you and I wish” he stops. “I wish really badly that you and I…” he trails off and the sounds of his heavy breathing fills the room. You look down at him sleeping soundly and only one thought occupies your head.

“Why does it have to be you Jeongguk” you whisper to yourself, closing your eyes and letting slumber take you.

The next morning, you wake up alone with a blanket drawn over you and Jeongguk isn’t there.

*********

“Y/n” you are drawn out of reverie by Jeongguk’s voice. “Where are you lost?” he asks.

You blink away the thoughts in your mind and focus on him. “Uhh.. nothing. I was just thinking about something”

“You think a lot you know?” he chuckles as he moves behind the kitchen counter and starts washing the vegetables and laying them out on the cutting board.

“It’s a disease” you reply with a smile of your own. Grabbing the water jug, you pour yourself a glass of water. Being parched around Jeongguk is like an occupational hazard because loving him somehow has become your full-time job. You are in the midst of taking a sip when-

“But that’s what I like about you” he replies in a mindless manner, all focus directed at chopping the vegetables that he doesn’t even look at you.

You choke on the water, followed by a coughing fit which immediately grabs Jeongguk’s attention. He rushes to your side and begins stroking your back in a gentle manner. It only makes you cough harder because that what happens when he touches you; whatever you are feeling in the moment is amplified ten times more.

“I am okay” you croak heavily, grabbing your throat.

“You scared me for a moment” Jeongguk shakes his head. “You good?”

You really want to ask him what he meant by his earlier statement, but that will only cause you to spiral. You will dissect it to the point of driving yourself nuts. When it comes to him, you are back to being a fucking teenager. It doesn’t really get much worse than that.

“Yeah” you clear your throat and stay at your spot while he turns his back to you and resumes chopping the vegetables and you-- well-- you stay you.

“Hey” Jeongguk looks at you over his shoulder. “Did Mina mention anything to you?”

“Like what?” you question, suddenly curious.

“We just had a little fight. So, I thought she might have said something to you”

“Surprisingly enough she didn’t. Would it matter if she told me?” you prod further and move closer to where he is standing.

Jeongguk abandons the knife and his intention to prep for whatever he’s making as he does a 360 turn to face you. “It matters what you think” he shrugs. “To me” he adds whilst leaning his back against the kitchen counter and scrutinizing you in a most intense manner.

You stare at this lovely man who stands in front of you. A man you love so much, that you don’t know what to do with your feelings. A man who makes you want to cry every time he’s around because everything is hopeless. In fact, if you could, you would cry right now because when he’s around there is always a tight feeling in your throat which you have to keep swallowing down.

“Why do you always say things like that?” suddenly things become much more serious. You can feel it in the air.

He’s silent as he regards you. You wait, feeling the weight of it as every moment passes.

“I am not supposed to say this. Hell, I am crazy for even thinking this but I have wrestled with this for so long” he scratches the nape of his neck.

Don’t Jeongguk, You scream inside your head

You have an inkling as to what he’ll say.

“Don’t” you shake your head before he even opens his mouth. He looks at you and you know he understands what you mean.

“So you know” he steps closer, and you take a step backwards.

“No” you whisper. He takes another step forward and you take another backwards. “I didn’t know. Until now” the words fall as another whisper through your lips. He moves forward, and you move backwards.

“You?” he questions. “Do you?” he prods. He doesn’t even need to complete the question because you know what he’s asking. You have waited for this moment for three years. You clearly never imagined it would happen so suddenly, nor while he was still with Mina.

“Will my answer change anything?” You continue your little dance as you step back again while steps towards you.

“Maybe not” he speaks so softly, it’s almost at the edge of a whisper. The only sounds in the room are that of the refrigerator and the sound of the heating system as it turns on.

“We shouldn’t be doing this” you look him in the eyes. That is when you realize how terrifying it is to look in someone’s eyes and see how they feel.

“I know” he takes his final step forward and has you pinned against the kitchen counter. He places his hands on either side of you on the white marble. “Is it bad that I want to” he leans in and his lips hover so near to yours, that you can almost taste his signature strawberry scent.

You know what you should say, but it’s not easy because you want it too. Maybe this is your chance. Maybe if you just say ‘no’ now it will put an end to all those painful feelings. It’s right at the tip of your tongue. You can’t believe you are actually considering it. But then an image of Mina flashes to your mind, which pulls you back into reality.

“Yes, it’s bad. We can’t. No matter how much we want to. We can’t do it. We’re good people” you lick your lips as your eyes bounce to his lips.

“What do I do?” he whispers against your lips. “You make me want to be a bad person y/n” he caresses your cheek and reaching up your hands clench onto the material of his shirt.

“ It’s only a moment. It’ll pass. I know you won’t do it, no matter how strongly you feel about this. You’re a good person Jeongguk.” your voice cracks because you are so close. You are so close yet so far from him that it breaks your heart for the millionth time and tears well up in your eyes.

“And that’s the problem isn’t it?” he bites his lip. He rests his forehead against yours and closes his eyes. For the next few moments, your breathing even out and matches with his. You stand there trapped between his arms, trying your best to soak this feeling because it will never happen again. The fact that you are doing this simple thing is wrong on so many levels you begin to feel the guilt creep up. You begin to feel ashamed of yourself for even letting him this close but goddamn it, you want him so bad you can’t help it.

Taking a deep breath he pulls back and steps backwards, putting some space between you.

You smile at him.

“How can you smile at a time like this?” he muses softly, eyes resting on you.

“Just knowing how you feel is enough. It’s more than enough Jeongguk”

He regards you in silence, his eyes bouncing from your eyes to your lips and back again.

“I am already feeling weak y/n. Don’t be that nice. I might just kiss you”

“And knowing that is enough. You’re with Mina and I could never do that to her. I know you would never do that to her either. Maybe one-day karma will bless us with something good” you pause. He waits in silence for you to continue. “Just not today”

He nods very slowly. “Just. Not. Today” he repeats softly.

*********

You, Mina, Hoseok and Jeongguk sit on the circular dining table. If there was ever a slim chance that you could skip one moment of your life and go to the next, it would be this one. Never have you felt so awkward. It’s not Hoseok. It’s not Mina. It’s Jeongguk. It’s the way he looks at you when you speak to Hoseok. It’s the way his eyes tell you to stop when you laugh with Hoseok. When you told him the first night you met him you were good at reading people, you meant it. Because you can read him like a book right now. His halfhearted smiles, listless eyes, closed-off body language clearly express his disinterest in the entire evening.

He hasn’t spoken a word to Hoseok the whole time. Jeongguk has only glared at Hoseok or completely avoided looking at him. You glance at Mina and Hoseok who are completely immersed in their conversation. It leaves you and Jeongguk. But you won’t say anything to each other. Not after admitting you like each other in the vaguest way possible. It’s because you can’t be together that makes it awkward.

Mina and Hoseok are immersed in their conversation which leaves you and Jeongguk to do the same per social rules. But it’s too much, too soon. You can’t even look at him properly without wanting to cry. But somehow knowing his feelings has lessened the burden of your own feelings.

“Y/n” Mina puts a hand on yours. “Help with the dishes please” she motions her head to the kitchen

You comply, but only after glancing at Jeongguk. He shakes his head signalling you not to go because he’ll be left alone with Hoseok. You mouth ‘sorry’ to him and follow Mina into the kitchen.

“So. What do you think of Hoseok?” Mina questions as she puts all the plates in the sink.

“He’s…. Nice” which is true. But he isn’t Jeon Jeongguk and therein lies the problem.

“Do you like him?” Mina turns around to look at you, and places her palms behind her on the counter and leans against it.

You should say yes because it’s the only way you’ll move forward. But since you have been hit with the disease of stupidity all you can manage is a shake of your head. “ I am sorry”

“I know. I can tell” she smiles.

“I know I shouldn't bring this up because this is about me and not you. But did you and Jeongguk fight?”

“He told you?” she doesn’t even try to deny it.

“No” you lie. You wouldn’t throw him under the bus. “It’s the way you are with each other today. You are distant from each other”

“Goddamn, you and your people-watching skills” Mina sighs. “I am not going to lie to you y/n. Things are not the same anymore. We’re trying. We are trying so hard to get back to the way things were, but you know that connection you feel when you get together with someone? It’s just not there anymore. But we promised we wouldn’t give up on it and try to make it work”

Unsure how to feel about it, you offer a halfhearted smile. On the one hand, you should be happy your best friend is working for her relationship, but on the other hand, this means that you might actually get your chance with Jeongguk someday. You try to shake the latter thought away because it is wrong. No, in fact, it is immoral for you to think that way about your best friend’s situation like that.

Just then Hoseok strolls into the kitchen. “Everything okay ladies?”

“Yeah. Actually, I need to speak with Jeongguk for a moment if you two will excuse me” she smiles at you knowingly before she leaves the room.

Surprisingly enough you don’t panic. Normally, you would be internally freaking out, trying to think of every which way you could get out of this situation. But you’re not doing anything like that. It’s probably because you know how Jeongguk feels now and the element of the unknown has been erased from the equation. Now that you know, you don’t have to kill yourself over and over again for thinking it’s just you. It’s him too which makes it easier to move on because now you should. It feels like closure. Not to move on, would be akin to sabotaging their relationship. And a saboteur you are not.

“Jeongguk seems like a nice guy” Hoseok muses as he looks down at the floor.

“ Yeah. He is” you clear your throat, definitely surprised at him for bringing Jeongguk up. It’s not exactly a first “date” topic of conversation.

“Let’s be real with each other y/n” his eyes move from the floor to you. “You and I are both not interested in dating each other. I can tell by looking at you. I also know that something is definitely up with you and Jeongguk”

“No-” you try to speak but he raises his hand.

“Don’t worry I won’t tell Mina” he reassures you. “Since I know that about you, it’s only fair I tell you that I feel the same way about Mina as you do about Jeongguk”

“What!” you look at him with raised eyebrows.

“I have liked her since the first day we started working together. We talked about a lot of things and I just felt this connection with her. But she told me she has a boyfriend, so I let it go. But working at the same place and seeing each other 5 days of the week doesn’t exactly make moving on an easy task” he sighs.

“I can understand that” you offer in agreement.

“So, I am in the same position as you except I don’t think Mina feels the same way about me that Jeongguk does about you” a corner of his mouth rises up in a sympathy-smile.

“No” you shake your head vigorously as if that will change his opinion. “You have got it wrong. Jeongguk doesn’t”

“I see the way he looks at you y/n. It’s the way I look at Mina. Love doesn’t know what’s right and what’s wrong and our bodies respond to it without us even noticing. I don’t think he knows it either. He looks at you the way a connoisseur of art looks at paintings. Bad metaphor, but it’s true”

“I honestly don’t know what to say to that because anything I say will be wrong” you huff through your nose as your shoulder slouch.

“It is tricky. But it is what it is. We can’t change how we feel any more than a cow can learn how to fly” he chuckles.

“You really have a thing for metaphors don’t you?” the corners of your lips stretch into a smile.

“What else can a man do but pull out bad metaphors in a situation as dramatic as this” she shrugs casually in his defence.

“I agree. Don’t worry I’ll keep your secret too” you reply. You are in no position to interfere with this matter because you are doing the exact same thing as Hoseok. You would be the last person to throw Hoseok under the bus because you totally understand him.

Silence befalls, but it’s the comfortable kind of silence because now you both know each other’s deepest secrets. And that makes you more than friends. So you feel comfort in knowing that you are not the only one. Not that it makes the guilt feeling creep back into the shadows.

Just when he is about to say something, your attention is stolen away by the sound of what seems like arguing. You can clearly distinguish when Jeongguk is speaking and when Mina is. Hoseok and you share a look before treading a few steps closer to the entrance of the kitchen.

“Well, why the fuck are we even here then?” Mina shouts.

“Because we wanted to try didn’t we? Goddamn it!” Jeongguk replies in an equally loud manner.

“I can’t do this right now Jeongguk”

“Me neither” Jeongguk replies.

Then you hear the sound of the door slamming shut. You and Hoseok look at each other, clearly aware of how sour the situation turned very quickly. Both of you make your way to the living room where the sounds were coming from. The closer you get, the sound of sniffling gets louder.

“Oh Mina…” you hug her and she cries on your shoulder. You gently stroke her back and let her cry it out. Because God knows this is the least you can do to be a good friend because you haven’t been a good friend to her at all.

“You- you h-h-heard that didn’t you?” she chokes in between sobs.

“I am sorry. But we were in the kitchen and we could hear everything” you squeeze tighter around her waist as her body wracks with violent sobs.

She pulls away from you and wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. She glances at Hoseok and then at you. “I am sorry you guys had to see this”

“It’s alright” Hoseok interjects as he sits down on the other side of Mina.

“Where did Jeongguk go?” you ask Mina.

“I don’t know” she sniffles and Hoseok hands her a tissue that she uses to wipe her nose.

“I would ask Hoseok to go, but they don’t know each other. Is it alright if I go check up on him?” you ask Mina for permission because it’s the right thing to do.

She sniffles again. “He’s probably off somewhere crying his eyes out too”

You chuckle at the thought of it because it sounds sweet. “Thanks, Min” you kiss her cheek before standing up. Glancing at Hoseok, you nod at him and does the same in understanding.

*********

“Hey stranger”

Jeongguk turns around to face you. The wind whips through his hair, making his hair stand up in every direction. He turns back around. You approach him slowly with your hands behind your back. You pause next to the bench on which he is sitting and watch as he stares mindlessly at the black sky twinkling with hundreds of stars.

“I thought I would find you up here on the roof” you glance at him but he’s still preoccupied with looking at the sky. You take a seat on the other corner of the bench, ensuring you put plenty of space in between.

“I guess you know me as well as I know you” Jeongguk deliberates.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” you turn to look at him, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as the wind blows through your hair.

“It would just complicate things even more” he shrugs and fidgets with his fingers.

“Does my being here make you nervous?” your eyes flicker to his fingers and then to his face.

“Yes,” he replies in a soft, almost inaudible voice.

“Do you want me to leave?” you question, heart thumping in your chest waiting for his answer.

He remains silent, still playing with his fingers. Still not looking at you. So, you take that as your cue to leave. You get up and pivot on your heels, about to leave when you feel his hand hook around your wrist. You turn to look at him and he shakes his head, pleading with his eyes as they bore into yours.

“‘Stay” he manages to say.

So you sit down. Silence falls and both you gaze at the sky. Even silence with him isn’t terrible like it is with other people.

“Hey, do you want to go get coffee?” Jeongguk turns to look at you.

“Now?” your brows rise in question

“Yes. Coffee Monster would still be open”

You mull it over for a moment. How ‘right’ would it be for you to get coffee with him when Mina is downstairs in a sad state? Not at all. You should be with her because she is your best friend. You should be the one consoling her right but Hoseok is doing that for you. He’s there when you are not. Instead, you are on this roof with Jeon Jeongguk; the last person you should be alone with given your predilection for him, seriously considering if you should take him up on his offer.

“If you are thinking it’s wrong for us to be alone like this. Let me remind you we are friends too” Jeongguk poses with a shoulder shrug casually.

“Okay. Let’s get coffee” he manages to put you at ease. It is enough for you to agree.

*********

Just like the world is starved for love, it’s also apparently starved for coffee. There is some kind of coffee place at the corner of every block. It’s ridiculous. You walk side by side, hands warming in your pockets, occasionally glancing at each other but not exchanging a single word. Jeongguk kicks his feet as he walks, and you copy him, making a game out of it. Maybe for this one night, he can just be your friend, and you don’t have to feel guilty about your feelings for him.

You arrive at Coffee Monster, and like the gentleman he is, Jeongguk opens the door for you.

“Thank you, kind sir” your lips widen in a smile

“No problem m’ lady” he tips his head graciously.

The smell of coffee wafts to your nose and you inhale it all in because nothing like coffee to make you feel better.

“I’ll go get our drinks” he offers kindly.

“I want-”

“An iced caramel macchiato, with soy milk, and extra caramel on the top. I know” he smiles.

How does he always do this? It warms your heart every single time and makes it that much harder to let go of him.

“As usual, you’re right” you mirror the smile.

He goes to the ordering counter, while you go to find a spot to wait for him. You pull out your phone and send a quick text to Mina.

You: Mina are you doing okay?

A second later your phone chimes

Mina: yes, I am okay. How is Jeongguk?

You wonder if you should tell her you are getting coffee with him just to be transparent. But then you decide against it because what if she takes it the wrong way? You don’t want to upset her more than she already is.

You: Yeah. He seems to be doing okay 😊

Mina: Okay, love. Take care of yourself and him 🤗

You look up to find a girl next to Jeongguk, with long brunette hair, and modelesque features, chatting with him at the pickup station. She’s leaning into him with a suggestive smile on her face, gently touching his arm and throwing her head back as she laughs at something he says.

Your brows furrow as your watch from afar, feeling a little hurt. But then you notice Jeongguk hesitate and step back a little. Just as she leans in, he leans back and tries to put space between them. You watch as he taps his foot on the ground and angles his body slightly away from her.

You approach them with a grin. “I thought you ran away with our coffee’s” you stand next to Jeongguk, wrapping your hand around his arm

Jeongguk looks down at you and immediately grins. “I would never”

“Who is this?” you question as you look up at him.

“She just wanted to talk” he shrugs casually. The girl frowns at the sight of you, clearly unable to hide her dislike.

“Are you a friend?” she asks

“I am his best friend” you squeeze his arm tighter and he takes it as his cue. He wraps an arm around your shoulder, the one you had been holding onto and pulls you in closer. “A little more special than a best friend”

“Oh… alright” her face falls, and her previously self-assured demeanour disappears and so does she.

You wait for her to get out of sight before separating yourselves from each other.

“Thanks, y/n” Jeongguk smiles at you.

“I am sorry if that was weird. I saw you getting uncomfortable so I thought I could help you out” your gaze lowers to the ground.

“No. It was actually nice” he partly pulls his lower lip between his teeth.

“Damsel in distress” you tease him.

“The biggest damn one you will ever meet” he grins

“One iced and one hot caramel macchiato for Jungkook” your conversation is interrupted by the barista.

Jeongguk picks up both the cups and hands yours to you.

“Are you copying me now?” your brows knit together in a mock frown.

“Did you know that people who like each other, tend to copy each other’s actions?” he says casually but then a second later he realizes what he has just said isn’t so casual after all. His smile disappears into a thin pursed line of his lips as he avoids looking at you.

“Yeah. We like each other, so what? We’re friends” you try to lighten the mood but somehow it just gets more awkward.

“Right” he nods and takes a sip of his coffee. “Friends” he scoffs.

*********

You walk the same path you had come from. Both of you are silent again, avoiding eye contact with each other as best you can. You try to distract yourself by studying your surroundings but your mind is still preoccupied with Jeongguk’s proximity and the occasional brush of his arm against yours.

“How was Mina?” Jeongguk glances at you.

“As well as can be expected. She was crying” you bite your lip.

“Shit” he exhales. “I am the worst boyfriend ever”

Hearing that word from him is like reality slapping you in the face. Your relaxed demeanour vanishes and you tense up because it triggers the return of guilt. You should seriously not be here with him.

“Fuck. I am sorry y/n” he stops in his tracks. You are forced to do the same but you would much rather keep walking. “I should not have said that. I am sorry” he turns to face you and you do the same.

“It’s fine. It’s true so it doesn’t matter how I feel” you shrug casually tying your best to pretend you are not affected by it.

“I care about how you feel. I have since that first night we met. I mean, fuck. Why couldn’t I have met you before I met Mina?” he laments.

“You can’t do anything about how I feel. You cannot even do anything about how you feel so what’s the point in talking about this?”

“But why can’t we?” he runs a hand through his hair. “I mean, what is so wrong in talking about this. About us?”

You scoff. “Us? Jeongguk there is no us. There can never be an ‘us’. It’s not happening”

“Wow” he looks at you with raised eyebrows. “So, you won’t even stop for one moment to talk about it?”

“What is the fucking point Jeongguk?” you look at him wide-eyed.

“For fuck’s sake y/n. It’s been three years. Three whole fucking years we’ve been skirting around each other. We have been tiptoeing around our feelings for one another for so long, we have forgotten what it feels like to be any other way. I mean I can’t remember a single time when being around you wasn’t a painful reminder of what I could have had with you. The least we can do is talk about it!”

“It’s not fair to Mina!” you exclaim

“It’s not fair to us!” he matches the loudness of your voice.

“You’re right. It’s not. It’s not fair that you’re with her and not with me. It’s not fair that we both have to go through this endless cycle of pain and hurt. It’s not fair that we both have to keep silent about all this. But Jeongguk, that’s how it is. That is our reality and we have to accept it”

“Bull-fucking-shit!” he responds.

“You think it’s easy for me to watch you be with her!” you pause to swallow the thick lump of emotions that has risen to your throat. “I have been heartbroken so many times you have no fucking idea. But what’s wrong is wrong. Loving you is wrong. It just is. I can’t change that. I desperately wish I could. I wish I could say to you that it was right. But it’s not. You are my best friend’s boyfriend Jeongguk. She loves you. I can’t get in the way of that” your chest heaves and falls with effort

Jeongguk blinks owlishly at you. “You love me?”

Shit

“I- I. No! No, I don’t love you” you shake your head as if you are trying to convince yourself more than him. You look at the cemented sidewalk because God knows you can’t look at him.

“Then look at me and say it” he steps towards you.

“You should go home to Mina”

“Shut up” he takes another step forward and you can feel him towering over you. “Look at me and tell me you don’t love me”

You choke on a sob and press the back of your hand against your lips.

“Look at me y/n” Jeongguk presses.

You shake your head in response.

“Please”

You shake your head again.

“The only way to get over this is to tell each other how we feel” he steps towards you once again, and places his hands on your shoulders and presses his forehead to yours. “Please look at me” he whispers.

He pulls back to look at you and you finally find the courage deep within yourself to look at him too.

“I love you” he exhales and closes his eyes, waiting for your response.

Something breaks inside you. Whatever inhibition was holding you back vanishes the moment you hear those three words from him.

“I love you too” you reply before you can even think about it. The weight of those words you had been carrying around for three years lifts. You feel light like a load has been taken from you. Your tense body relaxes, and your frantic breathing begins to even out. There is a sense of relief beyond all the other layers of emotions you feel. If you had known you would feel so much better after telling him, you would have done it years ago.

*********

As it turns out moving on isn’t exactly easy.

As it turns out, you still love Jeon Jeongguk

As it turns out, Jeon Jeongguk still loves you.

It also happens to be that Jeon Jeongguk is still with Kim Mina and you are back to square one.

But not completely because one single revelation is about to change things.

“You did what!” you blink at Mina, slightly unable to comprehend what she said.

“IkissedHoseokandthenweslepttogether” she mumbles quickly and avoids eye contact, pretending to be busy doing something on her laptop.

“I am sorry” you crouch in front of her. “You kissed Hoseok and then you slept together?”

She nods, shutting her laptop and hiding her face behind her hands.

“Mina! Oh my god!” you fall on your butt.

“I know. I know” she whines and topples over on the couch, still hiding behind her hands.

“I thought you and Jeongguk were trying to work things out” you look at her wide-eyed, hardly able to believe it.

She finally reveals her face. “We are, or were. But things have been different between us. Since that fight we had when Hoseok came over, Jeongguk been different. I mean I can’t say I am hurt because I am not. He’s avoiding me and to be honest I am relieved he is!” she whines. “That night when you left to go check up on Jeongguk, Hoseok really helped me and then he told me he likes me and then he leaned in for a kiss and I kissed him and then we slept together. That night I realized I like him too” she rambles to explain herself.

“Then why in the world did you try to set me up with him?” your face contorts in confusion.

“I just thought that pushing him towards someone else would force me to move on. And I knew that if it happened to be you, I wouldn’t act on my feelings” she exhales. Oh, this is the worst thing ever”.

You knew all too well what she meant and the fact that she would back off if Hoseok got together with you makes you feel even worse because you couldn’t do the same with Jeongguk. “Do you love Hoseok?” you question.

“I guess. I mean I am not sure. But I do know I don’t feel anything with Jeongguk anymore. I feel suffocated around him. I love him y/n. I do. I truly do and I only want the best for him. But I am not in love with him anymore”

“Does he know?” you ask.

“I don’t think so” she shakes her head.

Just when you thought things would start getting better, they just got worse. You love Jeongguk, Jeongguk loves you. Mina doesn’t love Jeongguk anymore, and she thinks she likes Hoseok. But Hoseok definitely loves her and you don’t know what Jeongguk feels for Mina.

Your head spins just thinking about it. “I need water” you announce from your position on the floor. You stand up slowly to avoid getting dizzy because lord knows you are on the verge of fainting. You slowly retreat back to the kitchen and pour two glasses of water. You head back to where Mina is and offer her one glass.

“So what now?” you ask once you had your fill of drink.

“I guess I have to talk to Jeongguk. Because we can’t do this” she sighs and so do you because who knows what is going to happen next?

*********

{3 weeks later}

The clock strikes at 8 pm. Mina isn’t home. She’s working late and you hope to God she isn’t fooling around with Hoseok because she and Jeongguk broke it off only three weeks ago. But you cannot control her life any more than you can control your own. Besides, she has the full liberty to make her own decisions as an adult. All you can do is make sure she doesn’t do anything that will harm or hurt her in any way.

You flip lazily through the channels, with your feet propped on the coffee table. All you need is a glass of wine in one hand and you would be the advertisement for a lazy Sunday. It’s been too long since you have had the apartment to yourself. The quiet save for the sounds of television is exactly the kind of relaxing environment you need. Sometimes solitude is the best company one can have.

Your stomach grumbles as a commercial plays on TV depicting the perfect, juiciest steak you have ever seen. So it is naturally a given that you abandon your perch and head to the kitchen to fix up some food. Rummaging through the refrigerator all you find are a few eggs, some asparagus, a carton of milk, a loaf of bread that is expired and some apples. You really need to go buy groceries.

You look through the pantry to see if you can find something. You find a bag of chips hidden in the corner so you settle for it. You drag your feet across the marble floor and make your way to the living room. Settling down back in your spot you turn up the volume.

Just then the bell rings and you get up with a sigh and make your way towards the door. Through the security system monitor you see Jeongguk standing on the other side of the door.

“Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit” you panic because you are in no shape to be seen by Jeongguk in your PJ’s, with dishevelled hair, and bits of chips on your shirt. You run back to the living room and fix the coffee table, and shove the bag of chips underneath one of the cushions. Running to your room, you quickly take off your PJ’s and grab whatever comes into your hand as you throw open your closet. It’s a white shirt and you grab a random pair of jeans. The shirt gets stuck on your head because in a panic you end up trying to put the sleeve through your neck. Once you figure out the shirt mess, you fix your hair up in a ponytail, while another bell rings at the door.

“Coming!” you shout and race to the door skidding to halt right in front of it. You take a few deep breaths and compose yourself as you place your hand on the doorknob. You unlock the door and try to put on your best smile.

“Hey! Come in” you usher him inside.

He hangs his jacket on the coat hanger by the door and goes to the living room.

“Do you want anything to drink?” you ask as he settles on the sofa with a thud, and you proceed to the kitchen.

“Water will be good” he rubs his face and rests his neck against the back of the couch. “Do you know where Mina left the box of my stuff?” he calls out.

“In her room!” you call out and hear faint footsteps going in the direction of her room.

You go back out into the living room with a glass of water and leave it on the coffee table for him. Just then he comes out carrying a big brown box of his stuff and he leaves it by the door under the coat hanger.

He comes back to the living and you notice he’s staring at you with raised eyebrows.

“What?” you question, patting your cheeks and your face to see if you have something on your face.

“Your shirt is on inside out,” he says and presses his lips together to hold in his laughter. But you can see his chin quivering, and his eyes getting glossy.

“Fuck” you look down and sure enough it is inside out. You collapse onto the couch grabbing one of the cushions and hiding your face behind it.

You hear him break out into laughter and feel the sofa dip beside you. He continues laughing for a good minute and for the duration you ensure to keep your face hidden behind the cushion.

“I am sorry” he chokes out between laughs. “It’s too funny”

“Yeah. My misery is obviously funny” you mumble against the cushion

You look up to find him bent over his knees, holding his belly. “ Sorry” he laughs.

“It’s your fault” you pout at him.

“Me?” he points to himself, chest still heaving with the effort of laughing.

“Yes. You showed up so suddenly, unannounced I didn’t want you to see me in my PJ’s and bedhead hair”

“You didn’t have to do that you know?”

“Yes, I did. You would have never let me live it down if you saw me like that” you try to suppress a smile.

“That is true” he nods.

He looks around the living room and peeks his head into the kitchen.

“Have you eaten yet?” he questions.

“I was actually going to buy groceries. We’re out”

“Let’s go then” he stands up and offers you his hand.

“You want to come with me?” you look at him in question.

“How could I ever miss the chance of grocery shopping with you? It’s so domestic” he grins, clearly enjoying the idea of domesticity more than anything else.

“I’ll just go fix my shirt” you tell him to wait and within thirty seconds you are out and by the door

“I didn’t know you wanted to do this so bad” you ask him as you crouch to the floor and tie shoelaces.

“I am a free man now y/n. I can finally follow my heart” he offers you his hand and once you place your hand in his, he interlocks your fingers and leads you out.

*********

The mart is close by so you and Jeongguk decide to walk. The whole way there you walk hand in hand, swinging your arms like children and laughing for no reason other than pure excitement.

You arrive at the store and you are about to let go of his hand to grab a shopping cart, but he pulls you back and shakes his head. Instead, he grabs the cart with his free hand and maneuvers it like he’s done it a hundred times.

“I am not letting go of your hand” he squeezes tighter.

“I can see that. But you know it’s a little impractical” you motion to the cart which is going sideways instead of going forward. He fixes it so it movies in a straight line

“I have wanted to do this since the first night we met. I have wanted to spend time with you for so long, so now I am going to make up for it. No matter how weird, crazy, or impractical you think it is” you walk hand in hand around the store.

“It’s only been three weeks since you and Mina broke up” you remind him. “Isn’t this too fast?”

“A month, technically. Anyway, one, we broke up mutually because we both fell out of love with each other and fell in love with different people. Two, it’s not fast for me because I have waited years for this. Three, I want everyone to know how I feel about you. In fact, I want you to know how I feel about you because I am sick of hiding it”

You stop in your tracks and tug him by his hand towards yourself. “How do you feel about me?”

Jeongguk stares at your eyes and then your lips. “Fuck it” he mumbles and he presses his lips to yours. His hands enclose your waist and he pulls you in further. You rest your hands on his shoulders and melt into the kiss. It’s everything you imagined it would be and more. He feels like home and never in your life have you felt calmer than that moment. No heart racing, no tight knots in your stomach. Nothing. Only a sense of calm that washes over you as he holds you in his arms and spills all his love into the kiss. It is tender and soft. His lips are warm against yours, and his kisses are even warmer. He pulls back to look at you and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Perfect” he murmurs as he cups your cheeks. Then he kisses your forehead, your left cheek, right cheek. He plants a soft kiss on your nose followed by a quick peck on the lips.

You giggle like a little girl. “I did not take you for the romantic type”

“I’ll show you just how romantic I am” he entwines your hands once more and hurriedly leads you out of the grocery store.

*********

You are completely pressed between the wall and Jungkook as he kisses you. You gasp as his lips trail down your neck. He stops to look at you, as if for confirmation.

“Just kiss me” you pull him in by grasping the fabric of his shirt and he doesn’t hesitate.

He lifts you up, and you wrap your legs around his waist, kissing him as if you will never have tomorrow with him. He leaves gentle kisses everywhere and you don’t know if you have ever felt this euphoric in your life ever before. Every part he touches is left in goosebumps and tingles.

“I love you” he breathes against your lips as he captures them again in a kiss.

“I love you too” you gasp as his hand traverses down your abdomen.

And love you, he does. It’s an indescribable feeling to be wrapped up in each other, limbs tangled, soft kisses left here and there. His hands never rest for a single second because he wants to explore every inch of your body. He wants to know you in a way no one has ever known you before. You lose count of how many times you come undone as you lie in his arms and he shows you how much he loves you.

*********

The next morning Jeongguk acts like a baby and doesn’t let you get out of bed.

“One more kiss and I promise I’ll let you go” he whines and grasps your wrist and tugs you back into bed. You are helplessly pinned underneath him.

“Fine one more” you tap his lip with your index finger. He pushes your finger away and his lips are onto yours once again. Unlike the first time he kissed you, this feels more rushed like he’s scared he that he’ll never have another day with you.

“I could do this all day long “he mumbles as he pulls away.

“Unfortunately for you Mr. Jeon Jeongguk. I don’t have all day to do this” you shove him and he falls on his back on the bed.

“Yes you do” he sits up on his elbows and stares at you with a suggestive look in his eyes. “Round 2?” he questions.

“No more rounds Jeongguk. I have to go back to the apartment and figure stuff out” you pull your shirt over your head. You sit at the edge of the bed and put your pants back on. The bed dips behind you and you feel Jeongguk’s arms enclose around your abdomen and his chin rests on your shoulder. He kisses your cheek gently.

“There is nothing to figure out” he whispers close to your ear.

“Yes. There is the matter of telling Mina about us” you place your hands on his arms and lean into his chest.

Jeongguk sighs and digs his forehead into your shoulder. “I know” he mumbles.

“So” you pat his arms. “Let go of me so that I can go and figure it out for us. Plus it’s her birthday in 2 weeks and I want her to know before then to save everyone any drama that might occur because of us.”

“Us” Jeongguk muses. “I like the sound of that”

*********

The silence weighs heavy in the air. Mina is chewing on her lip as she deliberates what she has been told. She mumbles and nods to herself which kind of scares you because she only does that when she is angry.

“Say something” you look at her in concern.

“Well, there is nothing to say y/n. He loves you and you love him. I am just mad for not seeing it sooner. I should have picked on it” she sighs in frustration. “Looking back at it, to be honest, I don’t think we ever loved each other” she muses the last part to herself.

“I am a terrible friend, aren’t I?” you try to swallow back the tears.

“No!” she moves closer to you and wraps one arm around you. “If anything, I have been a bad friend to both you and Jeongguk. We should have broken it off a long time ago”

“Doesn’t make me feel any better. I know you loved him. But I still had these feelings for him. I swear to you I tried my hardest to forget about him. I even dated people I shouldn’t have dated just to distract myself from Jeongguk. I thought maybe I would meet someone worthwhile and I would forget him. But I couldn’t and I am sorry. I am a terrible person and a worse friend”

“I am not going to lie. It’s a little bit weird. I mean you and Jengguk. It feels strange to even say it and I am going to need time to adjust to it and it’s not because I am hurt or disappointed in both of you. I am perfectly okay with you guys dating because Jeeongguk and I were over a long time ago. We just held on because we were too scared to hurt each other” she pauses to look at you and you nod for her to continue. “But I have no feelings for him. It’ll just take me time to get used to seeing you with him just because I dated him too once and now he’s with my best friend. I hope you understand”

Of course, you understood.

“Thanks, Min” you wrap your arms around her in a hug.

“I am happy for you babe” she squeezes you gently.

*********

Jeongguk’s late.

He’s not winning himself favours by being late. You tap your foot on the footrest of the barstool impatiently, quietly sipping your drink. A sports bar was the last place you wanted to be at, but of course, Mina wants to celebrate her birthday at a place that serves booze. You sigh and signal the bartender for another cocktail. You had no clue Mina knew so many people. But then again she is a social butterfly so there are close to one hundred people present. Somehow she even managed to get a small section of the place cordoned off for her birthday party.

You look at your wristwatch, and the clock keeps ticking. Yet there is no sign of Jeongguk. You crane your neck to check the entrance but it’s as empty as ever.

“Where is your boyfriend?” Mina makes an appearance from her tight schedule as she has to keep floating around between different groups of friends she has.

“What boyfriend?” you scoff, annoyed by Jeongguk’s tardiness.

“Ooh” Mina winces. “He’s in trouble” Mina looks over your shoulder. “Speaking of” she motions her head towards the entrance and none other than Jeon Jeongguk is approaching you with a grin on his face. “That’s my cue” Mina leaves.

“Hi, there stranger” Jeongguk props himself up on the seat next to you.

“Hi” you avoid looking at him and keep your eyes affront.

“So what is a beautiful girl like you doing sitting alone at this bar?” he leans into the palm of his hand as he looks at you, a grin simmering at the corner of his lip.

“Waiting for my boyfriend” you sip your drink.

“Well he’s not a very good boyfriend if he’s making you wait”

“Clearly” you turn to face him.

“Hmm. How about we remedy that?” he offers you his hand.

“Are you making a pass at a committed woman?” you squint your eyes at him

“No. Just asking you for a walk outside” his lips curve into a smile. “Besides, I am a better man than your boyfriend”

“I think all men are the same” you slide your hand into his and he helps you down the stool. You then let go and walk past him towards the entrance.

Outside it’s dark. Cars and buses are passing by and the street is really busy.

“Are you still mad at me?” he slides his hand into yours and interlocks your fingers.

You huff. “I am not mad at you”

“You look mad” he turns on his heels and tugs at your arm to bring you closer and then wraps an arm around your waist. “I am sorry I was late, but I was getting this” he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a tiny red ring case.

“Are you…” your blink furiously as you glance between his face and the case in his hand.

In answer, he opens the ring case and you find one silver ring, embedded with his name on it.

“Jeongguk” you look at him as tears well up in your eyes.

He takes hold of your hand pulls out the ring and slides it onto your ring finger. “It’s a promise ring”

“A promise ring?”

“Jeongguk..” you whisper as your vision gets blurry. “I don’t have a ring” you choke on a sob as tears stream down your cheek. “But I promise that I will be honest with you every step of the way, I will offer you my unconditional support in whatever you choose to do, and that I will love you till the day that I die”

“I promise that each day I spend with you, I will love you. I will choose you every day knowing that you aren’t perfect. I promise I will give this relationship the best of me, and that I will honour your heart and your feelings for the rest of my life” He uses his thumbs to wipe away the tears on your cheeks.

“You remember when we met the first night at Mina’s house party?” Jeongguk holds both your hands in his as he faces you.

“Of course”

“Do you remember you asked me if I want in?”

You nod again because every single detail about that night is still fresh in your mind.

“Well, I want in. I am all in. With you” Jeongguk dips his head and places a chaste kiss on your lips.

And that was the fourth time in your life you felt like the wind had been knocked out you and it was always because of Jeon Jeongguk.

End.

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detroitbydark · 4 years ago

Text

Title: Tell Me That Your Soul Lies Now

Relationship: Sev/OC/Scorch

Warnings: Mention of blood and needles used in medical care

Summary: A Stowaway complicated what should be an easy night.

A/N: Based on a HC that Sev and Scorch both end up at Kyrimorut and adopted to Walon Vau. Love, Family, and the ties that bind come into play. I hope you enjoy!

The Midnight Duke was an unassuming Corellian life class transport, a pre Clone Wars relic retrofitted to meet clan Vau's very particular, discerning tastes.

Quick, fast, and armed to the teeth it got the job done ferrying Walon Vau’s adopted sons from one bounty to the next. The sons themselves were more than competent to take it from there with efficiency and expertise bred from a jar on Kamino and a lifetime of training by one of the most ruthless Mandalorians to ever exist.

Dust settles in a thick layer over the Duke’s matte black hull. Its exit from the outer rim asteroid belt had been… dicey and it would need a new coat of paint in the coming days.

It had a lot of things, typically a dead body in storage wasn’t one of them.

“Fek!”

“Wha-“ Scorch barely misses his brother’s arm as he snaps back a step, exposing the open cargo hatch for inspection with a put-upon indignation only he was capable of. There’s a duffle of ordinance, kit and-

“What is this?” Sev’s growl reverberates through his buyce accusingly. Scorch eyes the curled up figure draped in a thick layer of clothes reminiscent of the mining colony they’d just left.

“People-cicle.” What the hell did he expect him to say? He hadn’t stored a body away. He was in charge of the bounties. The heads of the two marks had been in the bounty bag which was now very empty and in need of laundering because A. Trandoshan blood stank to malachor and B. Human blood was just messy.

“Maker if I know.”

The sun over Kyrimorut was quickly beginning to sink down into the mountainous waste to their north and with it went the warmth of the late season day. They just needed to finish post mission once-over and they could take the speeders the five kliks from the airfield to the warmth of the karyai and a hot meal.

“Maker,” Sev growls again, “Buir is not going to be happy about this”

Buir. It still felt wrong to call the Sarge anything but Sarge. Scorch was sure he’d get used to it eventually. Sev had, oddly enough, but Scorch didn’t really question his vod’s rush to accept their former trainer as his father. The sullen commando had always sought Walon Vau’s approval. It was no worse than the vode of Skirata’s clan and their hero worship of their Kal’buir.

“We’ll dump it off and be done with it,” Scorch offers, “Animals will take care of it and that’ll be- wait.” A quick blink through his HUD menu brings up an advanced heat scan.

Sev toes at the body with his boot. “What am I waiting on?”

“They're still alive. I got a vital readout. It’s not much but-“ The two clones stand shoulder to shoulder staring at the prone sentient.

“I slot ‘em and we pretend we never saw a thing?”

“The old man’s gonna know either way. Not sure what gets us in more trouble.”

At his side, Sev grunts. Wal’buir knew things. It was uncanny and downright terrifying. As cadets they’d never been able to get one by the old Mando - not that Sev had ever tried - but Scorch had plenty and had more than a few scars to prove he’d been caught.

“Kriff.” Sev lets out an uncharacteristic laugh. “Bring it back and Skirata will probably adopt it.”

Scorch can’t help the grin that spreads across his face, “or marry it off.”

“I’m not gonna carry it.”

The argument that he’d saved both their shebs earlier is about to leave his mouth when a small feminine whine rises from the half frozen sentient. “Well that settles it”

“Marriage,” they both agree in unison.

It’s been a while since he’s been around a woman not already wed or destined to be wed to one of his extended family. Suddenly the idea of carrying the unfamiliar being doesn’t seem so off-putting.

At least it wasn’t the bounty bag.

———

Buir was going to let them have it. Sev could handle the dressing down from Kal Skirata but he wasn’t sure he could handle it from Vau.

His stomach twists in knots. The early signs of panic, the ones he was intimately familiar with - brought about by the only father figure he’d ever known - were beginning to make themselves known. He can feel his heart rate picking up. The thick nerf hide sticks to each finger as his palms begin to sweat in his gloves.

He wouldn’t have been able to get away with slotting the grubby stowaway and dumping the body, of that he is sure, there was no good way to keep it clean. Either the Duke or he were going to be covered in it and the water pumps at the strip had gone out a week before. They’d brought the replacement back but it would take one of Kal’s boys to plumb it up.

“Ordo’s going to have kittens.” Scorch’s voice rings clear through his comms.

“Yeah, Bes is pregnant with what...” He rattles off the names of the clans ad in his head and begins assigning them to parents. “Number three?”

“Yeah, he’s always got a kad up his shebs when she’s carrying. This is going to royally piss him off.”

Sev watches as Scorch readjusts the woman in front of him. She’d started shivering after they’d yoinked her from her spot in storage. Still hadn’t woken but It was a good sign. Her body seemed to actively be trying to warm up. They figured they’d help it along and wrapped her snugly in a thermal sheet from the emergency kit. Before Sev had at least been able to see her nose, a set of dark brows and fluttery lashes, nothing too unlike those some of his sister-in-laws had, now it was only the closed lids of her eyes visible. For all intents and purposes she looked like a bantha wrap he’d gotten from a food cart last time they’d been on Coruscant.

Per the limited data from their HUDs she probably wasn’t in much better shape. She seemed stable, but it wasn’t guaranteed even with the vheh’yaims medical center and the clan’s skills she’d survive the long haul. They’d spent two days in hyperspace and she spent that time in a minimally heated interior storage compartment. The bloody marks along the hatch’s interior showed that she hadn’t had as comfortable a ride as they had. It was another thing they’d need to clean up but it could wait a day or two.

There were no ration wrappers, no canteens of water in the hold with her. They’d looked.

Hypothermia was her biggest issue but dehydration wasn’t far behind, and the ease with which Scorch had lifted her left him to believe that malnutrition had been an ongoing issue. The bulk of her was the thick rough clothes the miners had worn.

“We take her to Wal’buir before Skirata gets his turn. Let buir decide what to do.” The speeders rumble to life as they take off from the small airfield and head in the direction of home.

It takes less time then he remembered to cover the distance from the airstrip to the sprawling compound they called home.

“Look,” Scorch notes merrily, “they left the lights on for us.”

By the time they’re pulling up to the vheh’yaim Sev feels his breath coming rapidly.

“Maybe the old man’s having some ti’haar with the neighbors?” Scorch sounds hopeful as he pulls his buyce off one handed and clips it to his belt. “We get her into medical and then have to explain our fek up. Mij should still be here.” He hopes aloud that the family doctor was still rotating through before heading back to Enceri.

Mij Gilamar was a good a doctor as any clone commando, null, or trooper could ever hope for. If their guest made it through the next few days she’d do good to thank Gil.

Sev throws his leg over the speeder and grabs for his kit and the bounty bag while his brother jostles the woman into a better hold. The lights shine through the low windows peering into Skirata clan’s karyai and Sev can imagine his buir sitting by the warm fire drinking the potent Mandalorian liquor and busting Kal Skirata’s gett’se about something.

“Su cuygar Ad’ike.”

Or not.

Both men snap to. Instead of “Sir” an acknowledgement of “Buir” is barked. If Vau notices the near comical response he doesn’t let on. His golden eyes are narrowed firmly on the package in Scorch’s arms.

Sev isn’t sure he’s ever seen his brother lost for words and Scorch must decide today wasn't going to be the day.

“We brought a present. Heard Kal’buir is trying to settle Mereel down. Think this will work?”

Vau, emotionless stony Vau, stands for a moment before the hint of a sly smile flashes at the corner of his mouth. Sev’s heart jumps. The smile falls away with such quickness that had the man himself not trained him to be the best, Sev would have questioned if it had ever been present to begin with.

“Shall we get our guest set up? Maybe you boys can explain how you managed to bring home a stray while we do?”

Yeah they we’re in trouble. He can hear Scorch gulp through his comms as Vau turns away and heads towards the main entrance of their home.

Growing up with so many brothers, child soldiers who were destined to grow up too soon, Sev had never been privy to concepts like privacy. It shouldn’t irk him that eyes follow them as they enter the vheh’yaim, following their father through the one of the many different spokes off the main karyai toward medical. The low flicker of fire light catches on the rich golden plates of Mij Gilamar’s beskar’gam.

Without much more than a tired sigh, the silver haired Mando finishes his drink and rises from his spot near the fire to follow.

Sev finds himself thankful that even amongst the faces like his own, Ordo Skirata’s was not present. He wasn’t in the mood to hear what Kal Skirata’s golden child would have to say. He’d have to hear it eventually but he hoped he could at least grab a shower and hot meal before he had to deal with the Null.

Scorch elbows him in the side and Sev casts him a questioning glance. “In your head again, vod?”

“Just worrying about Ord’ika.”

“I would be less concerned about Ordo,” Vau remarks casually, “and more about me.”

To their left, Mij Gilamar huffs out a laugh as he motions for Scorch to lay the patient out. “Let’s worry about the aruetii first shall we? Where’d you pick this one up?” the doctor asks as Scorch begins to help him liberate her from the thermal blanket and then layer after layer of thick and dusty fabric.

“New asteroid mining station in the outer rim, Kappa Black,” Sev offers, “and we didn’t know we even had her on ship.”

It takes gett’se to openly admit that in front of his training Sergeant but Vau says nothing.

Scorch picks up where Sev leaves off as the last layer of outer clothes is tossed aside. Sev had been right. There really wasn’t much to the woman underneath the bulk of gear.

“We picked off the bounties. Cake walk.” The demolitions expert chirps happily but Sev can hear the well hidden undertone of anxiety in his voice. “We got in. We got out. Didn’t stop to sight see.”

Vau looks down his nose, glancing slowly from one to the other and then to the girl being hooked up to tubes and monitors. “It appears you didn’t stop to check your ship over either.”

“We had to leave in a hurry. She’d tucked herself behind gear,” Sev explains, knowing it wouldn’t be good enough, “We-“

A cry rises up from the bed as the woman’s eyes shoot open. He knows panic when he sees it.

“Fierfek!” Mij curses as his recently placed central line is caught along the bed and yanked from her neck. Fluids flow freely, mixing with a steady stream of blood as the doctor grabs for gauze and fights to press it against the puncture.

“Some kriffing help would be good,” he grunts as he manages to dodge a fist.

Sev steps in. He manages to grab both wrists in a single movement, pressing them to the bed as her lower body twists and her legs kick out. He tries to judge his own strength, his hands swallow her wrists.

“Restraints are in the drawer.” He hears Mij but his eyes are focused on the woman under him. “No! The other drawer.”

“Sorry Doc, gotta lot of drawers here.”

Sev ignores his brother as a leg swings wildly his way, its knee connecting with solid beskar along his back. She doesn’t even flinch. Sev positions his body over hers, swinging a leg over her hip and looping his feet over her thighs. She doesn’t stop fighting.

“Stop!” He snarls down into her face, voice coming out gruff and modulated through his buyce. Stark blue eyes focus in on him as she suddenly goes deathly still. They stand out against the warm tan of her skin, only a shade lighter than his own. Her hair is a tangle of unkempt curls and knots. She looks feral and wild, bears her white teeth like an animal. Sev adjusts his grip as she begins her fight again, thrashing and bucking under him.

“I said stop!” He snarls again, and something changes in her eyes. Fear flashes. Her snarl turns into a frightened “o” of surprise before he feels her muscles begin to go slack underneath him. He glances to his side in time to see his buir remove the hypo from her arm.

Mij grunts. A bead of sweat glistens at his grey temple. “Always prepared, right Walon? I hope you took into account her body mass because I don’t feel like dealing with a heart that doesn’t want to beat.”

Vau smiles, holding up the still half full syringe and flicking it lightly with a well manicured nail. “This isn’t my first time. Now Sev’ika, please climb off our guest and let’s try this again,” the black armored Mando says calmly.

———

“I don’t like it. It’s too convenient.”

Scorch rolls his eyes behind the mirrored visor of his buyce. Ordo Skirata has made himself known shortly after Mij had gotten their little stowaway stabilized. She’d be sleeping off the worst of her hyperspace sickness. If she did decide to wake again they could all be secure in the fact that Scorch himself had tightened down her restraints.

The hot brand Doc found behind her left ear had answered more than a few questions she wouldn’t be able to answer for a while. A slavers mark denoting property of the Mining Guild. Between that and her poor condition, Scorch couldn’t blame her for hopping the first ship off the asteroid belt she could find.

It did make them thieves technically, but he had strong feelings about people being property and it really hadn’t been the first time they’d creatively acquired something. He’d tried to ask Sev his opinion but he didn’t seem much for banter after they’d found the brand. Even Wal’buir had seemed a bit more disgusted than usual.

Then Kal Skirata showed up at the med bay door with his eldest in tow and a few of Omega’s commandos, Niner and Fi, trailing behind.

And now the adults were talking and it was his job to shut up .

“It doesn’t matter if you like it or not at this point,” Mij was saying firmly, “I’m not about to put a sick girl out.” His eyes flash challengingly to the Skirata clan head. “There’s nothing you can do to change my mind about it either, Kal.”

For his part, Kal Skirata has been fairly quiet, standing to Ordo’s side with his arms crossed loosely over his chest and a contemplative look on his face. Every now and then Scorch would catch old Kal’buir trying to sneak a peek at their acquisition. Scorch also noted both he and Sev had placed themselves between the other men and the bed. He could think of a star cruiser worth of smart things to say, but not one could account for the near-defensive position Sev was taking or Scorch’s own flanking of his brother.

“Besany’s pregnant-“

“Oh really?” Scorch can’t help himself. The words just come out because kriff, was Bes never not pregnant? “I wasn’t aware.”

Sev snorts to his side as does Niner hovering behind the Null. Fi barely manages a suppressed smile as Ordo’s eyes narrow. Scorch rolls his shoulders, loosening the stiff joints up. It was always about Kal’s boys. It was always cowing down to Nulls. It got old fast. Next to him Sev’s neck pops as he rolls it.

“You got an issue, Scorch?”

“And if he does?” Sev’s voice cuts in.

It had been awhile since there’d been a good family tussle. It might be time to take it outside and fix that.

“Scorch. Sev.” Walon Vau’s crisp, aristocratic voice cuts through the tension and posturing “Stand down. It’s late and I’m tired.”

Kal tips his head to his Null son. “You too Ord’ika. Everyone is concerned for the safety of the women and children, but if I know your wife she would no sooner have us dispose of an escaped slave as she would one of your deserter vode.”

“We’ve had squads do worse to get here,” Niner adds levelly.

“True, ad’ika,” Skirata agrees pleasantly, taking a step toward the bed. Sev’s sudden step forward seems to reignite the tension as he blocks Kal’s line of sight. The older man casts an appraising look at the Commando and Scorch feels every muscle in his body coil in anticipation. Kal Skirata could play the good natured ba’buir all he wanted, but below the surface he was anything but. He was as cold blooded as it came before you got his family involved, but once you crossed one of his boys Scorch wasn’t sure there was a star system you could hide in that the old Mando merc wouldn’t find you in.

Scorch wasn’t sure where he and Sev placed in the family tree but he wouldn’t be caught unawares if it was time to find out.

“She’ll be our charge,�� Vau says cooly, stepping between the two Delta commandos.

“And if she’s brought trouble with her, what then?”

“We let Sev slot ‘er and Mird will have a nice treat,” Scorch offers as if they were speaking of troublesome roba. The mention of Mird is enough to get a shudder from both Niner and Ordo and a wet sound of agreement from the creature itself as it slinks in between Fi’s legs.

The strill circles around its master’s feet before giving Sev and Scorch a cursory sniff.

“Walon,” Mij Gilamar’s voice is low with warning.

“Lord Mirdalan is an excellent judge of character.” The golden furred creature leaps to the bed with predatory grace. Scorch watches the strill stare expectantly at the sedated woman before turning twice and curling up on her legs. “See?”

Fi, who’d been quietly observing - for once - speaks up after a moment. “It may just be me, but I’m not sure Mird’s approval is necessarily a good thing.”

#delta squad #republic commando #star wars #clone commando sev #clone commando scorch #polyamory #no clonecest

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were-all-idjits-here · 4 years ago

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Still Alive, Part III: Now We Hunt

Summary: While watching the season 7 finale of Supernatural, you’re zapped from your world to a world where everything that happened in the show is real. Sam’s real. Dean’s real. Monsters are real. And so is Purgatory–where Dean’s currently trapped, unbeknownst to Sam. Frustrated by Sam’s lack of trust and motivation, you decide to take matters into your own hands.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: angst, cursing

A/N: the final part of this series. Thank you guys for your patience while I wrote this. Been recovering from burnout due to a toxic work environment, so that’s been making this a bit difficult writing-wise. But hope you all enjoy!

~~Read here on AO3~~

Birds trilled in the trees overhead. The breeze caused the evening light to dance through the forest as you stared at an unassuming spot on the ground. This was where Dean would emerge—whenever he emerged. But who knew how long that would take? You had already wasted a full day and night going to Target and stocking your new backpack full of supplies, getting a full night’s sleep (if things went bad, who knew when you’d have a chance to be well rested again?) and finding transportation all the way from the motel near Amelia and Sam’s to this specific spot. Then nearly another full day to get here. You’d tried to be careful and took out as much cash from Sam’s credit card as you could, but who knew how fast he would track you down?

You sighed and shouldered your backpack full of supplies as you trudged back to the motel you were staying at. It was nearing dark and you didn’t want to be caught out here after the sun set. Plus, you had to figure out a way to contact Dean so you knew how close he was to escaping Purgatory. About 30 minutes later, you let your backpack fall to the floor with a thud, pulling out your new laptop and opening your browser. The library in both towns you’d stayed in weren’t very helpful in figuring out how to astral project without being on top of old lingering magics. The second night you’d stayed at the first motel unfortunately didn’t render anymore visions of Dean. But after some Googling, you had found a YouTube link reading “Astral Projection Music *VERY STRONG*” that would hopefully at least point you in the right direction.

You settled onto your bed and took a deep breath before clicking the link. Ambient music with some strange undertones you couldn’t describe engulfed the motel room. You leaned back against the pillows and closed your eyes. You weren’t sure how long it took, but you felt yourself falling asleep. Your last thought before succumbing was a sinking feeling of disappointment as you realized this music would probably give you the best night of sleep of your life at best.

“Son of a bitch!” a rough voice barked in your ear.

You jumped and snapped upright to smack right into someone’s forehead. “Ow,” you muttered, rubbing at the spot that was sure to bruise later. You jumped as you saw Dean’s face just inches from yours doing the same. “Shit, it worked.”

“You sure you’re not a witch?” Dean asked. He was sprawled out on the ground next to you on top of his jacket, eyes bleary and hair sticking up every which way. You’d have laughed if you weren’t in Purgatory. The sky was darker than the first time you’d visited and the campfire was slowly dwindling. It looked to be a different clearing than last time; this time, he was near a stream, with two other jackets spread out around the fire.

“Um, no,” you replied. “Would’ve given a lot of assholes back home a good scare if I was. Did you find Cas and Benny?”

Dean groaned as he sat up. “Yeah. Benny’s hunting and Cas went further down the river to see if he could figure out which way this portal is.”

“You’ve got the spell ready for Benny?”

“Yep.”

“You found them fast. It’s only been a few days.”

Dean shrugged. “Benny wasn’t too far behind you. Or maybe you showing up changed things. He says he’s gonna take us to the portal tomorrow.”

“Good. What time?”

“No idea. We’re gonna start out first thing in the morning and get there as fast as we can. But make sure you tell Sam—”

You cleared your throat and looked away awkwardly, picking some dirt out from underneath your fingernails. You sighed and steeled yourself. Better to just rip the band-aid off quickly. “I’m alone, Dean.”

Dean stared at you with a blank expression for several moments.

Before he could cut in, you continued, “He won’t be catching up to me, either. He still doesn’t believe me and dumped my situation onto another hunter that was supposed to show up at the old motel I was staying at.” You inhaled deeply. You didn’t like telling him this, but better he knew everything upfront. As big of a fan of the show as you were, you knew how he reacted to secrets. “He…seems pretty convinced you’re dead and there’s no bringing you back this time.”

Dean shifted his still blank gaze to the dying flames. “What about Kevin?”

“I don’t think he and Sam have been in contact. From what I know of the show and judging by Sam’s reaction when I brought it up, Kevin’s been trying to get a hold of him and Sam just hasn’t been answering.”

“What?” Dean looked angry now and you bit your lip, unsure how to continue. You spread your hands in an irritated gesture instead. “You’re 100% positive about all this?”

“Yes.”

“How—”

A loud crashing noise broke you out of your sleep and you cursed under your breath. You glanced around the room—now shrouded in darkness—to see that your backpack had fallen off the end table from where you’d precariously balanced it just before nodding off. The astral projection music no longer played and your laptop screen was dark, making it impossible to know how long ago it had stopped. You wiggled your mouse to see the clock read six in the morning. You weren’t sure how early Dean, Benny and Cas were planning on starting out, or if time even flowed the same in Purgatory. You quickly shot up, stuffed all your spilled belongings and laptop back into your backpack and made your way out of the safety of the motel and into the woods.

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

You sighed as you plopped down on the ground in the very same spot you’d stood at earlier, wondering how in the fuck you had even gotten yourself here. The campers who had originally been here in the show—and subsequently been scared shitless by Dean—trudged off in the distance, grumbling distantly as the bob of their flashlight receded further into the woods. You felt bad for pulling all the asshole-ery you did to make them move, but this really was the best spot to look out for Dean. The sky was beginning to get lighter and the sounds of the breeze and waking birds made you want to nod off again. You did your best to resist, but as the minutes ticked by with no sign of Dean, you felt your eyes grow heavier and heavier.

You hadn’t even realized you’d fallen asleep until you were jolted awake by a loud bang and a blinding white light that forced you to close your eyes again. You breathed a sigh of relief upon opening them and realizing you were still in the woods and not back in your living room. You scrambled to your feet as the figure in front of you did the same, holding your knife out in front of you awkwardly. You stared wide-eyed at the tall, green eyes and dirty face of Dean Winchester. He seemed frozen with his gun pointed at you. You scrambled for something to say but came up short, feeling equally stuck with your knife out in front of you.

“Holy shit, you’re real,” you both muttered at the same time.

You heard the safety of Dean’s gun click as he slowly lowered it, tucking it into the waistband of his pants. He looked around, his shoulders just barely slumping as he realized you really were alone. He turned his attention back to you and raised an eyebrow. “Did you help me escape Purgatory just to shank me as soon as I got out?”

“What?” You felt some of the tension leave your body and realized you were still holding your knife out in front of you. “Oh, sorry.” You tucked it back into the sheath that was attached to your pants leg, noting for the first time the glowing blue light shining from Dean’s forearm.

He followed your eyes before making his way past you. “Wait here,” he mumbled, squeezing your shoulder as he went by. You felt a small thrill go through you at the contact before plopping back down next to your backpack. You watched as he disappeared through the foliage, knowing Benny was waiting for freedom. You sat and watched the sun come up through the trees and breathed a sigh. Even sitting in these woods with no home, no job, not even a guarantee that you’d be alive this time next month, felt better than the despair that had constantly engulfed you in your shitty apartment. You felt like you were finally where you were meant to be. Just being around Dean gave you more of a feeling of home than you’d ever had. You rested your head on your knees, hoping what came next was three days of sleep. You were mentally exhausted after everything that had happened.

A hand gently shook your shoulder and looked up to see Dean crouched next to you, his arm now bandaged. You hadn’t even heard him coming. “Thanks, kid,” he said, looking just as tired as you felt. “You got a motel room near here?”

“Yeah,” you replied, gathering your legs under you. Dean stood, offering his hand. Another small thrill ran through you as you took it and Dean seemed surprised as well. You stood and stared at each other for a minute, hands still clasped. Although he looked worse for wear, you knew he’d been through worse. His green eyes weren’t as intense as before and all the energy seemed to bleed out of him as he sighed, closing his eyes before giving your hand a final squeeze. Your trance broke and you let go, leading him through the woods to your motel room.

Once away from any prying eyes, you ordered food while he showered. Although you hadn’t done anything to warrant a shower, hot water sounded divine and felt even better. You emerged from the bathroom and sighed in contentment, laughing when you noticed Dean scarfing down a hamburger while trying to fit several fries in his mouth at once. “You’re gonna choke.”

“Ihf hambuwgew ih how Ah go, ih how Ah go,” he replied around a mouthful of food, several morsels of hamburger meat falling out of his mouth in the process. He made an “mm” of surprise, quickly picking them back off his shirt and plopping them back in his still-full mouth.

You shook your head and smiled as you sat down across from him. “Is mine still there—oh, wow, it is.”

“Ah diden loof all my manners in Puwgatowy.”

You gave him a look. “You didn’t have manners before Purgatory.”

“Ey! Littlew shit.”

You laughed and although Dean’s mouth was far too full of food to smile, his green eyes danced with mirth for what was likely the first time since Purgatory. You sat in companionable silence as you dug into your own burger, just enjoying the quiet. It was suddenly interrupted by a loud GULP from Dean and you burst out laughing. “I wish I was getting you on video right now.”

“I’m glad you’re not. Okay, but listen, I’ve got something serious to say—buuuuuuurrrrrppppp.”

You threw your head back and cackled, feeling tears start to leak from your eyes.

“Shut up, kid, I’m starving!”

“I can tell,” you laughed, meeting Dean’s eyes once again. Despite the sternness in his tone, he was smiling as well. You should’ve felt nervous—you had always had a bit of a crush on Dean, although you liked Sam well enough—but everything just felt easy with the older Winchester.

“But seriously,” Dean continued as both your smiles and laughter faded, “thank you. Benny got out and Cas…um…” He went quiet, his face going solemn and his hand squeezing into a fist on the table.

“I watch the show,” you replied just as quietly. “I know. You don’t have to say anything.”

Dean nodded his thanks and you gently covered his fist to squeeze his hand. He uncurled his fingers and linked them through yours to give another quick squeeze. To your surprise, he didn’t let go and if he didn’t want to, who were you to leave him hanging? You glanced up to find him staring at you, both of you quickly looking away. Your fingers were still entwined and only separated at a series of loud, sharp knocks on the door.

Dean’s face quickly morphed in the same anger you’d seen on the show many times during hunts. “You expecting anyone?” he asked lowly.

“No,” you replied. The two of you quietly got up in tandem and without even speaking, you drew your knife and hid behind the door as Dean pulled his gun from his waistband. The click of the safety sounded deafening in the silence as the knocking continued. You held your breath as Dean slowly unlocked the door before throwing it open with his gun pointed at the intruder.

“Y/N—” you recognized Sam’s angry voice which was suddenly cut short as he saw who stood in the doorway. From behind the door, you saw water suddenly splash onto Dean’s face. He blinked and pursed his lips before wiping the water away from his eyes.

“Hiya, Sammy,” he said, his face a mixture of relief, warmth and resentment. He stepped away from the door to let his brother in.

Sam stared at Dean in shock as he closed the door behind him. The sound of your knife going back into the sheath drew his attention to you, the look on his face making it impossible to tell if he was more annoyed you’d disobeyed orders or impressed that you’d brought Dean back by yourself.

You glanced between the two brothers for a moment before gesturing to the door. “I’ll give you two a minute.” You slipped out and made your way to the vending machine near your room. After scouring the snacks had bored you, you pulled out your phone to look through your meagre contact list. Mainly supervisors, coworkers and a few acquaintances who wouldn’t miss you. The feeling was mutual. You couldn’t deny the satisfaction that ran through you as you deleted everyone’s number but Sam’s. Hopefully, Dean’s would soon be added to the list. You perked up at the thought.

You looked up at the sound of footsteps. Sam Winchester slumped towards you, complete with hands in his pockets and a sheepish look on his face. “Hey, Y/N.”

“Hey, Sam,” you said, not bothering to keep the annoyance out of your tone.

“Look, um…” he scratched at the back of his neck. “I’m really sorry. I should’ve at least looked into it more.”

You sighed. “Well, he’s here now, so…guess that’s all that matters.”

“Yeah…” He sighed. “Dean said he’s gonna train you to be a hunter. You’re 100% sure this is what you want? Lee said he can still get you back home if you want.”

“I’m 110% sure, Sam. I’m not going back there. It was never home for me.”

Sam exhaled sharply once more, glancing over at the now busy street.

“You’re setting a world record for sighing,” you said. “Trust me. This is what I want. If I get myself killed, I’ll only haunt you a little bit, I promise.”

Sam chuckled before nodded. “All right, then. I have to go home to Amelia. I think she’s starting to suspect that something’s up. But Dean’s still in there,” he gestured to the hotel, “and I’ll be seeing you around.”

“What are you gonna tell her?”

“I don’t know. Hopefully I will know by the time I get back home—and thank you for saving my brother.”

You nodded. “Stay safe.”

“Yeah, you too. You still have my number if you need anything?”

“Yeah. I’ll text you, keep you updated on where I am.”

Sam smiled, pulling you into a quick hug. “Welcome to the life.”

You snorted. “Thanks.”

Sam gave you a half smile and waved as he trudged back to the Impala. Dean emerged from the room and made his way over to Sam, holding his hand out. Sam dropped Baby’s keys in his brother’s hand as what you assumed was an uber pulled into the parking lot, idling in front of Sam. Sam and Dean stared at each other for a moment before embracing one last time. Once Sam climbed in, the uber sped off and you made your way back over to Dean. He gently caressed Baby’s paint before turning to you.

“What now?” you asked.

He smirked. “Now, we hunt.”

Tag list: @totallyluciferr @dr7girl @pillowjj

#supernatural #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester #supernatural fanfiction #still alive #sam winchester #benny lafitte #castiel

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batuuprincess · 4 years ago

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WIP Wednesday

Did you ever wonder how it all began? How Rey Skywalker met the future President of the United States? How they fell in love? Well then you’re in for a treat....

The Governor

(A Mr. President Prequel)

Coming to the Archive on March 31!

Click below for a sneak peek!

“Come out to Yavin,” said Uncle Han as soon as she picked up the phone, no hello, no preamble. He’d never been one for small talk. It was one of the reasons why he was her favorite relative. “I’ve got a hot new candidate for governor.”

Rey rolled her eyes. Typical. No hello, but a demand to drop everything and chase him nearly 2,000 miles across the country. She settled onto the bed in her childhood bedroom for what was surely going to be a trying call. “Uncle Han, I can’t just pick up my life and move halfway across the country.”

“You graduated like two weeks ago, of course you can.”

She took a deep breath, sending a quick prayer to the universe for patience. While she loved her uncle, once he got his mind set on something, the devil himself couldn’t make him change his mind. “No, I can’t.”

There was a pause. “What, that boy of yours not want you to go?”

Her cheeks pinked. She’d been with Beau for nearly two years, and still her uncle referred to him as “that boy.” Come to think of it, Aunt Leia hadn’t warmed to him either. Or her dad for that matter.

“No,” she said far too quickly to be believed. She could almost imagine the smirk on Uncle Han’s face. “But I do have a job here. You know, a paying one.”

“You have a job in Yavin, too. And I can guarantee it pays better than that crappy job in Jakku.”

“You got me that job!”

“I know. So I’m well aware of how crappy it is.”

She closed her eyes and leaned back against the pillows. She was going to murder her uncle. There was just no other way about it.

Of course, he wasn’t about to give up. “Come on, you were my best student. I saw your recommendation from Senator Murphy after your internship. We need someone like you on this team.”

It was tempting. Han Solo was the absolute best where it came to running political campaigns. He’d seen three candidates all the way to the White House in his career, not to mention all of Aunt Leia’s campaigns that he’d run in his spare time. But for the past few years, he’d been semi-retired, teaching as an adjunct at the same university as her father. To learn from him (out of the classroom) would be a boon to anyone’s resume. But she still wasn’t buying it.

“I thought you were retired. We threw you a big party and everything.”

“I am retired,” came his gruff reply.

“Could have fooled me,” she shot back.

He barked out a laugh. “You got me there.” There was a pause, and Rey was almost certain he’d hung up on her, conversation over, when she heard a deep breath on the other side of the line. “He’s the real deal, kiddo. The one in a million. I wouldn’t have come out of retirement for anything less.”

She sat up. “Really?”

It was rare to hear praise from Uncle Han, even faint praise. A hundred percent on a test in Professor Solo’s class might earn a “not bad,” if you were lucky. So to hear him speak so highly of someone was rare indeed.

“Really, kiddo. He’s gonna go all the way one day, I’m sure of it.”

Rey took a deep breath. Now she was only dragging her feet for show, and they both knew it. “What’s his name?”

“I knew you couldn’t resist!” There was a gruff laugh. “You’re just like me, a political animal, through and through.”

Though she knew he was right, she’d had more than one fight with her father to that effect, she couldn’t help but be a little annoyed at his smug evaluation of her. “I never said I was taking it. Name?”

“Poe Dameron. Spelled how you think it was.”

“And how do I think it’s spelled?”

“P-O-E.”

“As in, Edgar Allen?”

“As in, Poe Dameron, future president of the United States.” There was some shuffling, and Rey could hear someone murmuring in the background before Uncle Han said, “Listen, there’s a lot going on here, so I gotta go. See you Monday?”

She nearly dropped the phone. “Monday? As in, less than a week from today?”

“Yeah, you got a problem with that?”

“I can’t move across the country in less than a week!” She had research to do, outfits to buy. Hell, she didn’t even know what she’d be making or where she’d live.

“Who said anything about moving? It’s six months and we’ve got a house we’re renting for staffers. Back a bag and get your ass here.”

There was a sharp voice in the distance that Rey would have sworn was her Aunt Leia.

“I mean, Rey, oh favorite niece of mine, please join me at your earliest convenience. As long as that is no later than next Wednesday.”

She sputtered something, which Uncle Han took for agreement.

“Excellent. I’ll send the contract and flight information. See you Wednesday.”

At that he really did click off, the three beeps leaving Rey in disbelief. What the hell had she just agreed to?

See you in a week!

Not caught up? Click here to read the original Mr. President.

#damerey #poe dameron x rey #star wars #fanfiction #coming soon

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imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl · 4 years ago

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Dangerous Love (Pt. 08 of 13)

Pairing: Bruce Wayne (Batman) X Harley Quinn's sister!Reader

Word count: 2.9K

Summary: You're Harley Quinn's sister, Havoc, one of the many villain's of Gotham. But you've been caught, and has been tortured constantly for an year in Belle Reve. But when your think your life can't be anything else than the nightmare you find yourself into, Bruce Wayne, the Batman, takes you in for a project. He has a program to rehabilitate villains, and you're his lab rat. But soon enough confusing feelings start getting in the way. You know falling for Bruce is stupid. But can you keep your heart under control?

<- Previous part (07)

Next part (09)->

{Justice League - DC Masterlist}

Home isn't Always a Place

You're pushed forward, a gun on your back. You step down the ramp, the sunlight blinding you for a while. The headquarters were built here, in some sort of field. There as soldiers everywhere, and they're immediately aware of you. Of course they are, you're a threat. With a gun on your hand, seven bullets means seven men on the ground, crying in pain. You hardly miss.

“Sister!” A yell gets your attention, and you turn to its source. Harley comes running, throwing her arms around you. “So good to see you. Where have you been?”

In paradise. “Same place as I've been for the last year. Isn't it obvious?” Shrugging your shoulders casually, you try not to look to misplaced. Wait. Why would you look misplaced here?

“Well, now we get to have fun and some family bonding.” As she speaks, a soldier walking by gets her attention. “Hey, you. Can you help me with something?” She says in a flirting tone and walks away.

“Now it's a party.” A rough voice says, and you soon recognize the owner.

“Killer.” You greet him with a smile and a quick hug. “Nice to see you'll be here to have my back. Who else is here?”

“Deadshot is arguing with a soldier. Diablo is seated in some corner whining.” He smiles, gesturing at his left. “Long time no see. How's life?”

“Life's fine. As fine as it could be.” You start walking over where Deadshot is, watching as the soldier rolls his eyes. Floyd is gesticulating a lot, which means he's pissed.

“I won't have it like it was the last time. Now go, be a good puppy and tell this to your boss.” He says, turning his back at the man. “Havoc. Hi.” He says, exchanging a glance with Killercroc. “Ready for another stupid mission?”

“It's not like we have a choice, right? I–”

“Listen up, assholes! Your dirty things are in these boxes. So change and let's get the hell out of here. You have five minutes.” A man shouts, and everyone rolls their eyes.

You make your way to your things, and as you expected, your box is filled with your old clothes. All in shades of lilac, purple and pink. As usual, the soldiers just stand around you, not caring too much, as you change. You never liked that. Harley doesn't seem to care, and many eyes lay on her. But you do care. And you care a lot more now.

“Guys. A little help?”

Floyd and Killer grab some of the dark plastic bags that lie on the the floor, as you take a dark purple sleeveless jumpsuit. You move to stand near a wall, and the guys turn their backs at you, holding the bags high so you're shielded from anyone's eyes. They did the same on the first time, and you're very thankful for that.

“Thanks, guys. I'm done.” You tell them, fixing the jumpsuit on your body. The hard material makes you feel strong, like Havoc again.

“You're welcome.” Killer says.

“To the trucks! Now!” A man barks and you have no choice but to do as he says.

All of you go in the back of one of the trucks, together. Harley seems to be the only one excited about it, since she's trying to flirt with a soldier named Tom. You wonder what Joker would think about that. Oh. He's stuck on a bed for the rest of his life. He won't be saying anything, you bet.

As you move through the town, you can't help but think about what you did before leaving the house. The kiss. You can't believe you actually kissed him. What in hell were you thinking? You're very brave to do such a crazy thing like that. And you should've at least stayed to see his expression. To see if he was mad or not. But even if he didn't like it, you trust him enough to know he won't break his promise. He still keep helping you after you beat him up twice, so it's not a peck in the lips that will make him change his mind.

Being sure of this is a weird feeling. Your head is so much clearer now, you're not as scared as you were. And you're liking who you're becoming. This mission is just a inconvenience. It'll be over and you'll head back to the house, back to the way of getting a real life. A good life, a life you'll actually enjoy having.

You stop suddenly, and you're ordered out of the truck. “There's a small group here. Eyes open. They might have put mines here so... Don't blow up.”

You get two guns, one in your hand as you walk the perimeter. Harley stays close to Tom, but it doesn't bother you. You walk near Killercroc and Floyd, your head too far from this place.

“Hey.” Floyd elbows you. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I'm just... Thinking.” Shrugging your shoulders, you need to focus on being casual. “How's you daughter?”

“She's great. Best student of her class and she's in a hella good school. The best of Gotham.” He looks at the sides, making sure nobody is too close. Killercroc is a few steps ahead and he doesn't really care about these stuff anyways. “You will never guess who put her there. And also guaranteed her a good University, any one she chooses.”

“That's freaking amazing, Floyd. Who did all that?” It couldn't be Amanda. She's not that good.

“Batman.” The mention of Bruce makes you blush, your heart aching from his absence. You look down, running a hand through your hair.

“Batman? In like the man you hate with all your strength?”

“How can I hate someone who does that for my kid? No, no. I respect him. Even admire him now, doing this after I tried to kill him half a dozen times.”

“Floyd, he's...” You need to let out out your chest, and having someone to talk about it would be nice. And you know you can trust Floyd, even more now that his hate for Bruce is gone. So the words roll out your tongue in a whisper as you both stop walking. “...Batman is the one helping me... Rehabilitating me.”

“Oh. So the rumors are true. I knew they took you somewhere else, just didn't know where.”

“You two. Walk.” Someone says and you start moving again.

“Yes, he... I'm going well. I...” Floyd looks down at you, raising one eyebrow. “He said it was mostly just me, but he did help. He treated me with kindness, believed me. I don't know how to explain but I'm different.”

“I did notice something was off with you. But I'd never guess.”

“Really? I was trying to keep it cool.” As you speak, three man come from the corner, immediately shooting at you. You duck behind a car, peaking just enough to lay eyes on them and aim. But they're easily put down without you having to shoot.

“All clear!” Harley says, smiling.

“So...” You continue when you start walking downtown again. “I didn't want to come, but he promised me it would be the last time.”

“Uhm... He's making promises?”

“Yes.” You don't get his tone. “He's very kind to me. Unlike anyone else... He even threw me a birthday party.”

“Happy birthday by the way, and sorry it's a little late.” You turn the corner, carefully at first. “How kind?”

“Kind.” What else can you say? That his touch is so soft, so gentle that you couldn't help but fall in love with him? “He... Cares. I think.”

“You fell for him.” Floyd bursts out, and it's not even a question. It's an affirmative. How did he get there so fast?

But you're fast to dissimulate. “What? No.”

“It's called Stockholm Syndrome.”

“It's not like that!” You exclaim. “You know I've been kidnapped before. Twice by the Joker, who kept me hostage for five months... I did spent three of them just to play tricks on his mind and get some of his money but you get what I mean. Batman didn't held me hostage. He spoke to me, helped me get clean of the drugs they used to give me at Belle Reve, he... He won't let the door locked anymore. He wants me to be able to live in society again.”

“I was teasing you. But since you went into great lengths to defend your relationship with him... You did fell for him.”

“Shut up, Floyd.” You mutter, too much on your head. Increasing your pace, you reach Killer, walking beside him.

Your feelings are pretty clear, as much as you don't want to admit it. And hear it like that just makes it even worse. The kiss... All you think is about that kiss you shouldn't have given.

You're thankful when the action starts, because you have something else to focus on. It doesn't resumes in shooting, you eventually get into hand to hand combat. And you can deal with it pretty well. Of course, it's easier because the guys have your back. You guess they somehow noticed you have no pleasure on doing this anymore. Diablo, as usual, doesn't participate much.

When you stop, hours later, you feel your body complaining a little, but you know it'll get worse. But you also know you can deal with that. And you will, because this time you have somewhere nice to return to.

The commotion goes on for a couple of days. It gets messy, and it only gets worse when the granades start falling from the skies. You're all bruised up again, but not as bad as you were in the hell hole. How is it possible that you're in the middle of a war and you're not as much hurt as you were inside a prison?

As you approach the terrorists base, things get worse, and even the soldiers seem to get anxious. So that means they're extra evil to you. One of them denied you a bottle of water, what made Killercroc almost get his head blown out for arguing with the man. That reminds you that you don't have an explosive this time, but the soldiers told you they will put a bullet through your head if you try anything. But they can rest their minds because the only thing you want is to end this soon.

A week later, the soldiers decide to settle for the night, and push you into a half destroyed house. Harley uses all the hot water, so you have to endure the cold. But it feels good to clean up, and you can take a look at your wounds. A few cuts and purple bruises, nothing you can't deal with. The only bad part of the times you stop to rest a little before start moving again, is that your mind involuntary floats back to Bruce. You can't help it, everything comes back. When he left his gala to dance with you, the dreams, the birthday surprise, the kiss... Why can't you take this man out of your head?

You're alone in a room where half of the wall is down. The others are downstairs, but you want to be alone. You can see the stars from here, and you wonder if Bruce is staring at them too. “Hey, freak.” A soldier comes in, throwing a small radio at you, that looks like a very rustic cellphone. “Someone wants to speak to you. You have five minutes.”

Watching as he leaves, you lie back on the floor, approaching the radio from your ear and mouth. You know who it is, and your stomach goes crazy, with a thousand butterflies flying around.

“Hi.” He answers. “How are you?”

His voice is so familiar, like home. “I'm surviving. Enduring. Just want this to be over soon.”

“It will. And you'll be back here.”

“I hope so... We're near their base now. So only a couple of days more and we'll reach it. Take them down.” You close your eyes, hoping that his voice will be enough to make you dream of him tonight. You would give anything to have him here... Or to be back home. You mean, back at his house. “How's everything there?" Stupid question, he's fine, everything is fine.

“It's weird not to have you here.”

A smile comes to your lips. “Is it?” You whisper, taking a deep breath. You're scared you'll lose control, and the words will roll out your tongue. “Our time is almost over but... Thank you, I... It's good to speak to you.”

“Just remember I'm waiting for you.” You hear his heavy breath, as if he's suffering too, tired, exhausted.

Then you hear a little static, and you know he's gone... There's a weight on your chest and you can't help but let a single tear roll down your cheek. You keep the radio near your face, as if you could hold Bruce with a little longer. “I miss you so much.” You say, barely recognizing your weak voice.

“I miss you too.” The sudden answer scares you, your eyes widened.

“I- I thought you hanged up.”

“No, I'm still here. And I miss you very much, sweetheart.”

The pet name makes you lose it, and now you're crying. “Bruce, I–”

“Time's up, Havoc.” The soldier comes back, hand reached out. “Say goodbye to your protector.”

“I gotta go. I... I miss you.” You burst out before another sentence, far more dangerous, leaves your lips. You give the man the radio back, curling up on the floor, bracing yourself.

From tomorrow, you'll fight harder. You need to go back.

• • •

“Their base–” The soldier who announces is shot in the throat, right beside you. You're duck behind the barricades, waiting for the big guns to arrive. You cannot approach with the risk of being blown up, and they're not allowed to spend you just yet.

“That's it. Shoot to kill, that's an order.” The commandant yells, and the bodies start dropping faster. But not from your gun. You keep aiming for their knees, but another bullet always finds the man you leave collapsed on the floor. “Are you deaf, slut?” He barks at you, leaving his post and pulling you up by the shoulders. “Don't you think you can trick me just because the Bat took you into his wings. Do what you do best and kill those terrorists.”

“I don't kill, sarg.” You tell him, making your way back to your post. But the grabs your arm violently, squeezing right on a wound you got. You groan, trying to pull away.

“You don't kill? Nice try. You will do as I say!” He yells right to your face, and you can feel his disgusting breath. But you won't back down, and you won't take a life just because he told you to.

“I don't kill.” You repeat, standing as tall as you can, head up raised up to look the man in the eye.

His gun makes sudden contact with your face, in the apple on the right cheek. Your head jerks to the side, and you're knocked down, a sharp pain spreading through the skull.

“Hey! Leave her alone!” Killercroc comes running, and you see through the corner of your eyes as he engages in a fight with the man.

You're done here. Crawling away from the fight, you hide yourself behind a building, seated on the floor and resting your back against the wall. They seem to be dealing with that very well, so they don't need you. You're tired of fighting, tired of being in pain.

“Havoc?” Floyd calls, startling you a little. “Are you ok? Your cheek is–”

I'm (Y/N). “Yes, I'm ok. But I'm not going back there.”

“You'll have to tell them you're feeling unwell or else–”

“I don't care, ok? I just need to go back home. I'm sick and tired of this shit.” You burst out.

“Home?” He questions, not seeming too excited to head back to the battlefield.

“Yeah, just... I'm confused, I'm hurt. I'm not thinking straight.”

“I have to head back. Sorry.”

Nodding, you close your eyes, taking in the explosions and shooting. The only thing you want is peace now, silence... Bruce's arms. A heavy, cold rain starts falling, and you're soaking wet in a matter of seconds. Your head spins around, and you lie down, eyes closed tight.

Suddenly, you're pulled into a heavy sleep.

• • •

“Lucky bitch. We should be taking her back to where she belongs.” A rough voice wakes you up, and you sit up, eyes opening slowly. You're in a truck, in the back, on the metal floor. Your hands are tied by huge metal handcuffs, that cover both hands, reaching the middle of your forearm. It's heavy.

“Let's teach her a lesson. Just like old times.” A man say, and you recognize two out of six, both were your guards in Belle Reve.

“Don't leave too many bruises. She'll be with Batman in ten minutes, he'll notice.”

Ten minutes... You're going back. This truck in taking you back. Lowering your head, you smile, breathing deeply.

“She was with the Task Force. He'll think she got them there.”

“Fine then.” You're pulled back, a dark, heavy fabric covering your head. “This is just to remind you of who you are, Havoc.”

“And to give you a nice memory of home.”

The beating starts, and your body easily collapses to the floor again. But you're lifted up, again and again. You should fight. You should do something, but you can't. You're not the superpowerful girl you thought you were. You break too, and you get hurt. And you are hurt, with countless cuts and wounds through your body. When you were high on whatever they gave you, you could keep moving. Now you can't. Being vulnerable, weak, feels awful, but there's just no strength in you. You just need to make it through the last ten minutes that separate you from home.

Home.

When exactly did the house became that?

Or is it Bruce? Is he the one becoming your home? Is it even possible? You hope it is.

@redwolf-7 @glitterypinkkitty @mybabyboytony @chipster-21 @agustdpeach @yaakimoon2 @chloe-skywalker

#imagine bruce wayne #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne x reader #batman imagine #imagine batman #batman x reader #ben affleck batman #justice league imagine

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martellthemandalor · 4 years ago

Text

Fight or Flight - Part 1

Pairing: Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales x F!Reader

Warnings: langauge, mentions of drugs, alcohol, mentions of violence, no Tom becuase I hate him

Rating: T (teen)

Word Count: 4.5K+

A/N: After nearly a month of not writing (fuck you writers block), I’m finally here with this Frankie fic. It’s going to be a two parter and part two will hopefully be posted next week, but I’m off to uni this weekend so I’ll have to see if I have the time to finish and post it. As always, likes are appreciated, reblogs encouraged and feedback is adored. (Also my Spanish sucks, please correct me if you see any mistakes)

Masterlist

GIF credit: @conveniently-available

You thought you’d started seeing things when you’d caught the shadowed face of Santiago Garcia, an ex squadmate, staring at you across the market plaza. You weren’t sure whether to be glad you weren’t going insane, or pissed that he’d ignored your blatant choice to ignore him when he had slid into the booth opposite you. Cocking an eyebrow at your old friend, you took a long swig of your beer.

He responded with a familiar smile, one you hadn’t seen in years. He was still as infectious as he was all those years ago, a single smile all it took to break your nonchalant air. You rolled your eyes as a grin broke across your face, shaking your head at him.

“Long time no see Pope,” you started, sliding your bottle across the table to him. He accepted the drink, taking a sip of the cold liquid. It was something the two of you had started back in your squad days, often choosing to share a bottle of whatever alcohol you could get your hands on in celebration. Initially you shared because alcohol was as rare as a total eclipse while at base, but it had quickly evolved into your own tradition. You watched with careful eyes as he handed the bottle back to you. “And here I’d thought I had done a good job of disappearing.”

He laughed at that. The deep belly laugh that, as much as you didn’t want to admit, you had missed so much. You and Santiago had been close friends, practically family, back in the Delta Force. When you went through your early retirement you had told yourself that disappearing was the easier choice, that it would save you a lot of heartache, but you’d be lying to yourself if you said it didn’t hurt like hell to leave him like that.

“You certainly made it fun to track you down, Athena,” He replied, eyes sparking when your own met his in shock of hearing your old call sign. “But it was nothing I couldn’t handle. I take it that means you didn’t get my text then?”

“Given that I ditched my old phone when I left, no,” You took another sip of your drink, before slowly setting it back on the table. “What do you want Santi?”

He leant forward, voice dropping to an enticing rumble.

“I’ve got us a job,” You rolled your eyes at him and opened your mouth to make a smart ass remark. Santi knew you to well and saw what was coming, quickly continuing before you have chance to speak. “Seventeen thousand up front for a weeklong recce, all paid for by the narcotics unit down there. But if we go through with it there’s potential for major upside, I’ve cut a deal with the agency. We keep twenty five percent of whatever we seize.”

“That twenty five percent doesn’t mean shit if it’s some drug running nobody, Pope. Who are we going after?" You ask, reaching for your bottle.

He dropped back in his seat, arms crossing against his chest. His jaw ticked for a moment, stretching out the seconds before dropping his bombshell.

“Lorea.” He shrugged.

“No shit?” Your response was almost instant, disbelief lacing your tone as your hand froze, millimetres away from the frosted glass. “The guy’s a ghost Pope, even my people can’t trace him.”

“I got solid intel, my informant says he’s holed up in a safe house with all his cash, over seventy five million dollars.” He raised both his brows in emphasis, reaching forward to snatch the bottle in front of your hovering fingertips. You watched in stunned silence as he brought the bottle to his lips. Santi chuckled at your expression.

“Fuck me.” Was all you managed to say, gratefully accepting the drink Santiago passes back. You took a long swig, using the little time the action gave to gather your thoughts a little. “Look Pope, I imagine you’ve already got the boys lined up for thi-”

“Nope, I’ve come to you first. I need you on this hermana, your skills are invaluable.” His eyes were pleading with you, chocolate irises piercing into your own. Paired with his boyish smile it was almost enough to make you give in.

Almost.

“But you are getting the boys together, and if you’re getting all of them together… I just can’t Santiago,” you stressed, your tone dejected. Part of you hoped that he only needed you, maybe then could have justified going. “Look, I’ve got a good gig here. I can’t just up and leave for a week with the boyband, stalking around some god forsaken jungle.”

“Is that so?” He smirked at you, eyebrow quirking slightly.

“You know full well there isn’t a lot of good work I get with my ‘skill set’, private security was the best move. It’s really not the sort of job I can disappear from for any amount of time.”

“Oh is that what they call it now?”

It was true that ‘private security’ was a pretty lose term for your job. You were certainly a form of security, but the mansions you protected were occupied by brazen CEO’s whose companies had less than reputable backgrounds. ‘Private Army’ was probably a more accurate job description. Or ‘Gun for Hire’.

“Fuck off Pope, like your job is any better,” You sniped, throwing a dangerous look across the table. Santi threw an equally serious face back at you. Neither of you could keep it up for long though, your stern expressions melting away with a light hearted laugh.

“I missed you Santi,” The sentiment behind your words rang sincere and true.

“I’ve missed you to hermana, I’m sure the other boys have as well.”

You scoffed.

“I’m sure two out of three of them do.”

Pope gave you a pointed look, and then leaned in to rest his forearms on the table.

“Frankie has definitely missed you Athena,” He stated, his voice low as his eyes flickered across your face. He watched as anger sparked across your features, scattering across your face like embers spitting from a fire.

“Frankie has no right to miss me,” You all but spat it at him. Seeing him open his mouth to protest, you cut off his oncoming plea with a sharp “You know exactly why.”

Santi slumped back into the worn cushion of the booth, running a hand down his face. He had hoped the resentment you harboured for your ex had faded over the past few years, but the way your words are filled with venom as you spoke his name he knew that opposite was true. If that was the case, then convincing you to join the job was going to be twice as hard. He shook his head at you.

“I don’t, actually. No one but you and Frankie knows what actually happened that day. You know that the reports for ops like ours are never truthful, our mistakes and injuries always get omitted,” Your sudden laugh caused Pope to pause, a short and sarcastic bark that was quickly followed by a swig of beer. “Look. You know I really need you on this, but I also need Fish. This job requires a pilot and he’s the best one I know.”

“I don’t care Pope. I’m not going if he’s going to be there, simple as. Find someone else with my ‘skill set’, god knows I can give you the contacts.”

With that you hauled your bag over your shoulder and went to leave the booth, pushing the glass bottle over to Santi to finish.

You thought you’d been successful in storming off. He didn’t say a word to stop you, just watched with marksman intensity as you slid out the booth. As you strode past him however, his hand darted out to firmly grip your wrist. Twisting towards him, you found whatever expletives that were rising in your throat died on the tip of your tongue. Those damn eyes of his placated you in an instant. Big and brown and mirroring a look you know you’ve given him so many times in the past.

“Please hermana. I need people I can trust on this, and there’s no one I trust more than you. I know you’ve seen what Lorea does to the city, hell to the whole damn country, but it’s getting personal now. I need to stop him. I need you to help me stop him,” He pleads. It makes you hesitate. You know all the terrible things that have happened under Lorea’s reign, seen first-hand a few of them. It was all Santi needed, he sees the new chink in your armour and jumps to rush into the gap before it closes you from him again.

“Seventeen thousand guaranteed, more if we go through with it, probably enough that you’ll never have to pick up a gun again. A week of work. AND I’ll personally make sure Fish doesn’t talk to you, if that’s what you want. Okay?”

There’s a silence, a lengthy pause where he can see the cogs turn in your head. Your eyes search his face, you’re not entirely sure what it is you’re looking for, but whatever your gaze meets seems to harden your resolve. Dropping your head back you groan dramatically.

“Fine. Alright I’ll do it. You better make good on those promises though.”

“When have I ever not Athena?” Pope grins at you, grabbing his own bag and standing up to join you. He brings you in for a proper hug, both of you grinning and laughing in each other’s ears. When you break he wraps his arm around your shoulders, the two of you walking out the bar in perfect step. That was something else that hadn’t changed then, you and he having a freaky twin-like way of mirroring each other. Even after all this time.

“Remind me again why we had Will as point on all our missions? You are so much more persuasive, and easier to listen to.” You gave him a poke on his ribs, causing another laugh to rumble from his chest.

“I don’t know hermana,” He replied, giving your own ribs a poke. “Now where’s good to eat around here, I’m starving.”

Frankie looked at the text on his phone once again. He couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing, the amount that Pope was promising and just for a consultation alone.

“Hey, Fish, you coming?” Benny slapped down the end of the white tape wrapped around his hand, securing it in place.

“Right behind you Benny,” He replied, slipping the device back into its designated pocket. There was only one thought running rings around his head since he’d received the illusive message.

Had you been recruited for this job too?

Fish knew that you and Santiago had been close friends throughout your army days, the pair of you having closer ties than the rest of squad, save for Will and Benny of course. A bond like that, it doesn’t go forgotten, he knows better than most that even when severed, it leaves a lingering ghost.

Maybe it had pulled Pope to call you in. Maybe it had even convinced you to say yes.

Benny slapped the lockers as the pair rounded the corner of the changing room, the abrasive metallic clanging drawing Frankie out of the black hole of his thoughts.

“Aw yeah where my corner men?” Benny chanted, beelining for Santiago.

Frankie didn’t want to look. Instead he walked swiftly up Will, greeting him with a solid embrace. Pulling away, Will gave him a look. It was one of encouragement and almost… sympathy? Frankie’s gaze dipped away from the blonde man, sending a glance towards his old friend.

A tap on his arm from Will gave him the courage he needed. He turned towards Santiago, head down, hoping that going in hat first would somehow protect him. He painted a smile on his face, swiping his hand to swat at Pope’s arm.

“Hey! todos los días que're más feo,” (“Everyday you’re uglier”) He joked, a genuine chuckle escaping his lips when Santi responded by grabbing the open ends of his jacket.

“Ah, pequeño pendejo,” (“You little shithead”) Santi laughed and pulled Frankie into a hug. He felt a little of his anxiety melt away, things seeming to be normal so far. No ghosts. “Me alegro de verte.” (“good to see you”)

Frankie settled onto one of the benches, watching his hands as they lay clasped, but still fidgeting, in his lap.

“Did you boys get my text?” The answering silence to Santiago’s question was deafening. Not that it put him off of course, if anything the hush just spurred Pope on more. “Yeah? Fish?”

Hearing Pope say his call sign felt almost foreign, even as it sent him hurtling back through time. Back into an apparition of the three of you laughing, joking, ribbing light-heartedly at the names bestowed upon you.

This time it was Santi who ripped him from his thoughts.

“I need a pilot, I can’t do this thing without you.”

“I don’t know man,” Frankie shook his head at his hands, “I got out of this for a reason.”

Lie. There was way more than a single reason. One of which he prayed wasn’t going to round those lockers, like he had mere minutes before.

“What… what does that mean?” Pope questioned in disbelief. “Did you read the text? This can change your life forever Frankie.”

Fish scoffed, rising from the bench. He knew exactly how much this could change his life. However, it didn’t mean it would be changed for the better.

It was easy for Pope to say, to propose it, this had been his life for years, long after the squad had gone their separate ways. The only way to fuel his need to make a difference was, in his eyes, to pick up a gun and do it himself. Frankie still remembered his justification for running back into violence.

“What happened to that bullshit about going back to your Mother’s homeland and empowering the people to police themselves?” Fish’s arms crossed as he fired Pope’s words back at him, a subtle stab that didn’t go unnoticed by the group. Pope chuckled softly in response, his expression hardening for a split second.

“Anyway,” Frankie continued. “I lost my licence. I can’t even fly right now.” His steady gaze dropped at that, the cold water of shame settling deep in his stomach at the admission.

Pope was unfazed, pressing on with double the determination.

“Well, I don’t need a pilot with a licence. I’m in with the army down there,” He took a step towards his capped friend, steadily pressing into the bubble Frankie had built around him. Pope ducked his head slightly, trying to catch his evading eyes. “I just need a pilot I can trust.”

“Yeah. I don’t think so.” Frankie shot back, not missing a beat.

He watched as Popes mouth pressed into a firm line, chucking out a soft “Okay,” before starting on a passionate ramble about Lorea. Fish purposely turned away, tuning out the determined voice of his friend in favour of watching Benny prep for his fight. He hoped that the obvious shun of Santiago’s efforts would make his stance clearer. If he could get any clearer than the obvious “No.” he had given seconds before.

“… There’s a winning lottery ticket stuck to the bottom of your cowboy boot.” The words were spoken close to his ear, swinging his attention back to his exasperated friend. Fuck it. Maybe if he bites at Santi’s line just a little, then his focus would turn to one of the other guys. “Every guy in that gym would jump at this-”

Pope’s voice stalled just slightly, his eyes darting momentarily behind Frankie’s head. Confusion flashed across Fish’s features, until he heard the voice.

That voice, so saccharine sweet and smooth, that haunts him more than any horror he’s seen. Your voice.

“You gonna win for me, Benny?”

Your grin was wide, arms folded casually as you leaned against the chilling metal of the lockers.

“Athena!” Benny all but roared, surging towards you and swiftly gathering you in his arms. Your own came around his neck as he swung you round. “I’m most certainly going to win now my good luck charm is here.” He said, setting you back down on your feet. You could feel Frankie’s stare burning into the back of you as you let your touch linger just a little longer than necessary, fingertips dancing gently across the bare expanse of Benny’s shoulders.

“Good luck charm, hmm? Does that mean you’ve been losing without me around?” You teased, palms resting on Benny’s firm chest.

“No ma’am, just means that winning will be twice as easy now.” He said, squeezing your hips, a move that didn’t go unnoticed. Then you moved to the other Miller brother.

“Hey Will, how you been?” You asked, arms wrapping round him in a much softer embrace. He chuckled against your ear.

“I’ve been fine, better for seeing you though, Ath,” Will pulled back, hands coming to rest in his pockets. “After you left we didn’t think we’d see you again, where’ve you been?”

“A few places, all over America really, went abroad a couple times. Paris was particularly nice I must say.” You replied nonchalantly.

“Paris, eh? Well you’ve certainly done the best out of all of us.” Will acknowledged, a hand coming out to squeeze your shoulder lightly. Your smile was wide and genuine, beaming at the bearded blonde. He responded with a smile of his own, quiet pride etched across his soft eyes.

“We always knew she would,” Pope spoke up, striding over to you. “Athena was destined for better things than us from the start, you boys knew that when you named her for a Greek goddess.” He cajoled, nudging your arm lightly.

“Santiago, you flatter me. C’mere, idiot.” You laughed lightly, pulling in your best friend for a solid hug.

Pope’s shoulders were squared when he finally let go. Your eyes immediately clocking the way he was winding himself tight. His brow ticked up in silent question.

A lull fell over the locker room. The electric energy radiating from Benny made the air thrum as you assessed the potential for disaster. The silence was deafening, if only momentary, as the boys tensely awaited your next move.

Pope’s words swirled in your mind.

“I’ll personally make sure Fish doesn’t talk to you”

You had your hard out.

This time though, you didn’t want to take it.

You turned to your ex-boyfriend, seeing his figure slightly hunched and arms firmly crossed.

“Hello, Frankie.”

The words detonated on everyone at the same time, the potential implications rippling across the boys. No one knowing this time what the true aftermath would look like.

He didn’t even meet your gaze.

“Hey Athena.” His tone was blunt, cold, unfeeling. It slammed right into your gut, worse than any blow you’d taken before.

The bastard.

Santi must have sensed the bonfire building in you, his frame coming to block your path to Fish. Before he had chance to say anything though, Benny’s adrenaline became your saving grace.

“C’mon focus guys, it’s fight night!” He chided, throwing a lifeline into the centre of oppressive atmosphere. Will was the quickest to grasp at it, snapping his focus onto his brother.

“Yeah, don’t worry about that bullshit.” he said calmly, throwing a gentle look over at Frankie.

“Sorry, Benny.” You conceded, scratching the back of your neck.

“You ready for this?” Will checked. You knew on these nights that he was often more anxious than his brother, though he would die before ever admitting that to his younger sibling.

“Hell yeah.” Benny confidently replied.

Frankie’s jaw ticked as he pretended not to watch the way you had linked arms with Benny, walking in perfect step with him out the room.

Santi hadn’t said a word about you coming. Not a single syllable. He wasn’t sure whether to be mad or relieved. Would it have been worse to know in advance? Worse to have longer to revisit the shimmering ghost of your relationship, to think about the way you used to smile and laugh with him, only to have those images marred by the utter disdain you regarded him with now.

Pope lingered for a moment, waiting for Fish to gather himself. A deep breath and a head shake later Frankie strode out to follow the gang, letting Santi walk a few paces ahead.

The corridor was painfully bright as Frankie emerged from the locker room, he always hated bright spaces. Especially when they were accompanied by white walls that did nothing but highlight the way you were parading Benny down the hall.

He tried to focus on something else, anything else, but the image of you talking, laughing, flirting with the tall fighter was steadily being burnt onto his retinas. You were acting as if Benny had been the one you’d dated, been the one you’d slept with.

Had you?

No. That was a rabbit hole he couldn’t let himself fall down. Not now.

Instead, he opted for turning his attention to Pope.

“I didn’t mean to call your shit bullshit,” He started, hovering just slightly behind his friend. Somehow being shoulder to shoulder for this conversation… well, he couldn’t deal with being that exposed right now. Pope chuckled softly.

“It’s all right.”

“I got busted. It’s not a big deal,” Fish paused, wandering for a moment whether he could let that lie stick. No, he couldn’t. “Actually it’s a big deal.”

“Coke?” Santi asked, almost too knowingly.

Frankie couldn’t say anything, just gave Pope a look of confirmation.

There. It was out now.

“Jesus, Frankie.” Santiago scoffed.

“Technically, it’s a suspension. I’m still under review.”

Pope’s face was unchanging, that same slightly sceptical look drawn across his features.

Frankie knew nothing he said would change that, but at least he’d got it out. Part of him hoped that if Santi knew then, well he’d stop him from doing anything to stupid in the face of his old spectres.

He turned his attention to the stoically quiet Will who was walking a few paces ahead.

“Well, what about you? What are you gonna do?” He asked.

“I said if Athena was in, I’m in,” Will said.

Fish watched as you threw your fist in the air.

“Hell yeah!” You chanted, not looking back at the group.

“Come on, stick with me guys.” Benny asserted.

Fish hated the way your arm tightened round his, holding yourself to him tighter.

“Oh, I’m with you, Benny. But are you with me?” Santiago asked. “Are you in?”

Fuck, how he wished he could un-see the way your eyes peered into the steady expression of his squad mate, forget how your face lit up when Benny responded.

“You know I am. I go where you go.”

“That’s what I thought! Benny stands tall!” Pope slapped Benny’s back, his words alive with excitement.

“Fuck yeah he does.” You affirmed.

The announcements from the main arena were getting louder as the group approached. Frankie nearly walked straight into Santi when the group stopped its pace. The jolting stop had been caused by you and Benny, his eyes immediately locking onto the harrowing scene playing out in front of him.

“C’mere Ben,” You said, reaching to tilt Benny’s cheek towards you and pressing a kiss to the warm skin there. “For luck, not that you’ll need it of course. Go knock em’ out, tiger.”

As much as you loved to watch Benny beat the shit out of another dumbass fighter, the climate of ring room had gotten overwhelming hot and oppressive, fast. You shouted to Pope about getting some air, and then slipped into the fresh, quiet open space at the backdoor of the gym.

Your head fell back against the cold concrete of the wall, taking steady gulps of crisp air as you tried to centre yourself a little. You hated loud noise.

Years of training to hone your hearing had made you acquire a preference for quiet places. It wasn’t that your ears were sensitive by any means, years of being near active warzones had made sure of that, but overwhelming noise meant you couldn’t pick up on small hints of danger. It was that which made your heart race and head pound.

The clicking of the heavy door next to you opening alerted you to another presence. You hoped it was Santi, the two of you still had a lot to catch up on after all, but that hope was squashed when the tan jacket of Frankie Morales emerged.

“What do you want, Catfish?” You asked, exasperation lacing your voice.

“What was that?” He asked in return.

“What was what.”

“You. Kissing Benny.”

You tilted your head to get a better look at him. His arms were folded across his chest, cap pulled low over his eyes. His gaze was furtive, eyes flicking between you and the uninteresting tarmac bellow.

“It’s called ‘moral support’.” You scoffed at him.

Frankie shifted his weight, hip jutting out as he rested his hands there. You tried to swallow the small lump in your throat that formed at seeing him do the pose you had loved for so many years.

In the past it had been accompanied by a playful look in his eye before he’d pounce on you, growling slightly as he pinned you to the nearest surface. Usually accompanied by a “You shouldn’t tease me like that, hermosa.”

Now though his eyes were hardened as he stared you down.

You pushed down your emotions. You couldn’t let yourself miss him. Not again. Not now.

“And the flirting?” he retorted

“Me and Ben have always flirted! I only stopped because-“

Because me and you started dating, because I fell head over heels for you faster and deeper than anyone before you, because there is no one who could ever compare to you.

You cleared your throat.

“Anyway, I’m allowed to flirt, Fish. It’s not like I’m seeing anyone right now.” You said sharply.

You heard his breath hitch. Saw his eyes widen slightly in shock, lips parted. For a moment he stared at you, before coming back to his senses.

“You… you’re not?” He stammered slightly.

You sighed. Dragging a single hand down your face, you let it rest on your shoulder before turning to face him fully.

“No,” You said firmly, “I’m not seeing anyone. Do you really think so low of me? That I would come in here and flirt with Benny to what? Make a point? All while I had some partner holed up somewhere waiting for me to come home.”

Frankie’s mouth goldfished at you a couple times. If you had been listening hard enough you may have heard the whirring and clunking of his proverbial cogs turning steadily in his brain. He was frantically trying to think of some way to back pedal on his verbal attack.

No, you categorically didn’t miss him anymore.

“Do us both a favour, yeah? Stay away from me tonight.” You snapped.

You swept past him, back into the bleak walls of the gym. If your strides had been slower, if you hadn’t have been so very desperate to flee, you might have heard his closing remark.

“I thought the world of you, mi petardo.” (“my firecracker”)

Read part 2 here!

TAGLIST

@din-damn-djarin

@phoenixhalliwell

@legili-mens

#Fight or Flight #frankie 'catfish' morales #Frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie catfish morales x reader #frankie catfish morales x you #frankie morales fanfiction #triple frontier fanfiction #santiago pope garcia #santiago garcia #benny miller #will miller

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effieduan · 4 years ago

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Peskipiksi Pesternomi || Morgan & Effie (& Friends!)

TIMING: Present

LOCATION: Vulpine Voltage Repairs

PARTIES: @mor-beck-more-problems & @effieduan & pixies

SUMMARY: Morgan needs to get her phone fixed and stumbles upon an unsettling scene in Effie’s shop.

CONTENT: karen :///

“I’m just saying there’s grease on my screen.” The blonde said slowly, as if Effie couldn’t understand her. Truthfully, Effie didn’t understand her, but only because this woman was an idiot.

Effie let out a sigh, finally putting down the teeny tools she was using to replace some teenagers' cracked phone screen. She thought she was done with this particular customer -- she had even let herself hope she was done with this particularly customer. This woman’s laptop had a bad run in with a llama (apparently) and wanted it back in perfect condition. Effie obliged after she was screamed at for telling her that it would be cheaper to buy a new computer. Do I look poor? Perfect condition meant a deep cleaning of all the grime that was caked onto the poor machine.

“Ma’am,”Effie said flatly. “Your screen is just clean.”

“No! It feels slippery! Look!”

Effie watched, face blank as Karen dragged her finger across the smooth surface of the laptop screen, leaving behind a fingerprinted smudge.

“Yes,” Effie said. “Because it’s clean.” The door opened, her telltale jingling bells sounding through the small store front. Effie looked over Karen’s shoulder. “I’ll be right with you.”

“You most certainly will not!” The woman was outraged now, and Effie sucked in a deep breath, wishing that the other customer hadn’t walked in so she could just go lock herself in her workshop in the back. “You will take my laptop back and clean all this grease off it this instant! I didn’t pay all that money for you to be lazy - I wanted this in mint condition so i wouldn’t have to buy a new computer, and you’ve made it all...All… shiny! It’s slippery and I’ll drop it again and just have to come back - is this how you scam people? How dare you!”

Effie stared at the woman for a long moment, before stooping behind the counter and picking up a sign she only used on particularly irritating customers.

THE TECHNICIAN HAS THE RIGHT TO REFUSE SERVICE TO ANYONE. THIS MEANS YOU! GOOD-BYE!!!

After all the terrible things over the last two weeks, especially the thing with Erin and Betty, Morgan tried to kill her newly freed up time with Sundew and the pixies. Sometimes this led to impromptu spelling quizzes about the names of flowers. Sometimes this led to Sundew and Willowbud dropping her phone in the pool after trying to use it as a palanquin. Today was Actions Speak Louder Than Words, so the two tiny culprits joined her on the trip to the repair shop for ‘emotional support’ and to determine what they could do to make things better once Morgan found out just how bad the situation was. The rice trick hadn’t helped, so her hopes weren’t all that high.

Inside the shop, however, someone was having a much worse day.

“Her face looks like a balloon,” Willowbud giggled, hiding on Morgan’s shoulder.

“We should make it pop!” Sundew said, peeking out next to her. “And then make her get stuck on the ceiling so she can’t come down. Then she really really will be a balloon.”

“That’s cruel,” Morgan chastised softly, looking at the complaining woman. “Also, very conspicuous. And it’s...” She winced. “...human, in a bad way, to hurt someone just because you feel like it.”

“Does not,” Sundew hissed.

But the woman was being pretty human-bad too, and Morgan found herself wishing she’d put off teaching Sundew manners for another week. She had worked too many shitty jobs to have compassion for people who took off the edge off their existential powerlessness by yelling at service workers. Maybe this woman would look better stuck to the ceiling.

When the girl at the counter came to her, Morgan made a point of smiling extra bright as she brought out the phone. “I just have a uh...phone problem. Swimming pool accident. You can let me know if it’s not worth bringing her back to life.” She side eyed the woman, who was rapidly taking personal offense to everything Morgan said by the look on her face. “I can also wait a while, if you need to take care of other stuff.”

The sunny smile of the other customer was oddly disconcerting, though Effie knew it was just because the other was being such a bitch. “Your phone?” Effie managed to ask. She even managed to register her saying swimming pool accident - which happened to be her least favorite repairs, but at that moment she’d take anything. At least this woman looked like she would even get a thank you. “I’ll take a --”

Effie didn’t get to finish her sentence when her bitch of a customer interjected. “You most certainly will wait!” she snarled at Morgan. If Effie believed in God, she would pray for the strength not to strangle this woman. Thankfully, she did believe in the law, and murder was currently illegal, despite picturing this woman’s head exploding. “And you don’t want to get your shitty phone repaired here anyway, she’ll just make it greasy -- honestly, I want my money back, and I want my computer back to the way it was!”

“Smashed and hardly usable because of a llama accident?” Effie asked. “I’ve already informed you that I’ll no longer be servicing you. You can leave now. Uh --” Effie glanced over at Morgan. “Ma’am, if you’d like you can go towards the counter. This will only take a --”

“I demand you --”

“And I demand you shut up!” Effie had never been great at customer service and was born with the shortest fuse of all her sisters. “I’m running a business here and if you’re going to act like a child without a brain you can stick your head and your laptop into a pot of boiling water. Leave so I can look at this woman’s phone.”

Sundew and Willowbud thought this was hilarious. Morgan had to pretend to scratch her shoulder in order to keep them quiet. “If we’re the h-word for only supposing to make her a balloon, how many is she? Do you think she ate them?” Sundew said.

“At least four,” Morgan muttered.

This made them laugh harder. Morgan coughed to cover up the noise. “Excuse me, sorry,” she said, clearing her throat for good measure. “See, that’s what you do when you interrupt someone trying to peacefully go about their day. And then, if you’re trying to get someone to do you a favor and be nice to you, you get a little more specific and acknowledge they’re actually a person and not a text bot in a bodysuit.” Her voice was gentle, but her smile cut sharp. “Like: you look really distressed, ma’am. I can only imagine what horrible things must be happening for you right now, or how badly you’ve been hurt, that you feel like you need to be like this. But you really don’t. And this young woman has made herself really clear just now. So maybe if this is that urgent, you should try calling tomorrow.”

“I don’t think that’s gonna wo-oork,” Willowbud sing-songed.

Effie coughed, at least having the sense to hide her building laughter at her customers words. Oh, Morgan was so her new favorite customer, she would be getting a discount on her phone if she could fix the water damage. And if she couldn’t, maybe she’d toss in a free pair of headphones along with the cellphone recommendation pamphlet she’d give her. What confused her, though, was the soft sing-songing voice coming from the woman’s… hair?

Facetime, maybe? Or - wait, her phone was why she was here. Unless she had two? Effie was far more interested in the voice than she was her bitchy customer.

“I don’t think you have any involvement in this!” Karen snapped at Morgan, and Effie raised her eyes to the ceiling. Was this punishment for being an atheist? She made a mental note to tell that one to Eva the next time they spoke, she’d laugh.

“Actually --” Effie said, cutting off her tirade, “You are. She’s here to get a service done and you -- a person that will no longer be served -- are getting in the way of that. I guarantee she could have been out of here faster than this whole ordeal.” Effie paused, looking back at Morgan apologetically. “Not that I’m trying to get rid of you, of course.”

Karen stamped her foot. “I just want what I’ve paid for!! This is highway robbery! I’ll sue you!”

Sundew and Willowbud were doing that thing where they whispered and giggled and cackled at each other at the same time, and their already shrill voices were literally in Morgan’s ear and it was all she could do not to swat them away or laugh from how their wings tickled her neck. As they started scuttling down her sweater, she finally barked with laughter. “Sorry, sorry, uh. You’re very scary, ma’am. Truly.” Sundew’s feet were tickling her side and Morgan covered her mouth, snorting. “And uh, you really don’t have to worry about me,” she said to the girl at the counter. “I worked retail in Texas.”

As she spoke, the two pixies were writing on one of her post its and shoved their creation into Morgan’s hand. Morgan took one look at what they’d written (for writing in the dark, the penmanship was kind of impressive) and nearly choked on her voice. Maybe being on her own was making her lose her grip on her principles. Maybe she should stop spending so much time with pixies. Maybe a lot of things. But fuck it.

“Uh, but you know what, since all three of us seem to not want you here, why don’t you give me your name and contact info right here. I have some lawyer friends, and I’ll put you in touch. Sound fair?” She flipped the post-it as she handed it to the woman, obscuring the writing on the front.

Retail in Texas? Effie raised an eyebrow. “I… don’t think I want to know what that means,” she said. Truthfully she couldn’t think of a place she wanted to go to less than Texas. Except maybe Arizona… Or, really, anywhere in the south. Effie watched as Morgan produced a sticky note from out of nowhere. Who carried sticky notes on them like that? Effie wondered if Morgan really intended on passing Karen’s information onto a lawyer -- though even if she did, she was certain that this blonde woman would be laughed right out of a lawyers office. Greasy computer her left butt cheek.

“Ma’am, I suggest you do as she says,” Effie said. “Before I decide to call someone to escort you off my property.”

The blonde woman looked at her in astonishment, “Excuse me?” she asked like she couldn’t believe the words that just left Effie’s mouth.

Effie just reached into her back pocket, pulling out her phone and waving it threateningly. Of course, Effie would do no such thing. She was particularly fond of the police, nor did she feel like having more people crowded in her store. Even two was starting to make her a little nervous, if only because one of them was overtly hostile.

The blonde huffed in annoyance. “Well fine, then.” And she snatched the sticky note out of Morgan’s hand, looking Effie up and down as she did so, eyes lingering on the pair of bright blue gloves. “And I hope you choose a better wardrobe when I see you in court!!”

As soon as the woman signed the note, Sundew and Willowbud flew out of Morgan’s bag, tiny hands drawn into finger-guns. “Stick 'em up!” Sundew cried. “This here is a robbery! And you owe us big time!”

“Yeah!” Willowbud piped. “Highway robbery, missy!”

Sundew cackled. “Pew, pew!” Two bullets the size of melons shot out from her tiny fingers and zoomed straight for the woman’s face. She screamed, shielding herself, but on supposed impact, the bullets made a farting noise and erupted into a spray of rainbow fireworks.

“Sundew!” Morgan squeaked. In retrospect, she should have seen this coming. They had written When u rob me I will give all my money $$. Of course they would want to do the hold up themselves, supernatural secrecy be damned. She looked over to the girl at the counter, smiling through her panic. Please don’t freak out, please don��t freak out, please don’t freak out.

The woman, meanwhile, was wriggling in place as her arms forced themselves into her own purse for her wallet. Out came the credit cards, debit cards, store cards, wadded up bills, loose change, even a checkbook. Morgan didn’t even know people still carried checkbooks. The more the woman fought, the more her face turned a little purple, and for a second Morgan worried that she might actually burst like a human gore balloon.

As Sundew and Willowbud fluttered to the counter to surf and dance on their spoils, Morgan’s look at the girl at the counter turned desperate. “Those...drone robots the kids are making sure….look realistic, huh? I can...uh...make them give those back, if you want. Because, you know, the drones. Probably have...microphone...things. To listen with.”

Effie stared in utter disbelief. The little things with wings were cackling and shooting finger guns while this woman was making it rain the contents of her purse on the ground. Suddenly, the singsongy voice coming out of this other woman’s hair was making sense. Effie looked at her panicked smile and looked back at Karen, who was… Well, now she wasn’t very happy.

“Drones,” Effie repeated, eyeing the dancing creatures doubtfully. Drones her ass. Still, the look on the bitch’s face was really something to look at, and Effie let out a low laugh, shaking her head. “Drones! Right. Drones!” Effie was not the best actor in the world, but she was trying her best. “Well, it seems like maybe we should give the lady back her checkbook and cards. And I’ll take this --” Effie slide a wadded up ten dollar bill towards the little creatures, “-- as a fee for disturbing the peace. For the … Children, of course.”

“Maybe we should make her give up the rest!” Sundew said. She flew up to the woman, flitting this way and that, closer to her eyes. “What do you think, human? Do you think anything? Do you? Do you? Do you? Do you? Do you? DO YOU?” Sundew flicked her on the forehead. “Should we keep playing robber? Or maybe we should play tie ‘em to the train tracks instead.”

The woman, still a little purple and now definitely terrified for her sanity, took out a roll of bills from her cleavage and threw it on the ground. Finally freed from the request, she stumbled back and left the shop, too horrified to scream.

Morgan deflated, bending down to pick up the most conspicuous items off the floor and push them over the counter. “You should definitely take the checkbook and plastic,” she mumbled. “They’ve learned to type, and I really don’t want to learn what their taste in online shopping is.” She put her head over her arms and stayed there, looking sidelong at the girl. Sundew and Willowbud were too pleased with themselves to care much. Like many fae, they assigned value by shininess and aesthetic more than anything else. For now, at least. “You’re taking all of this really well. Tiny ‘drones’ flying out of a woman’s purse the middle of your store, harassing your customer, playing--” she looked back at them and shook her head, despairing. “I don’t even want to know. But, I appreciate it, and if you can handle mailing that harpy of a woman her sensitive stuff back, I can compensate you extra for the...mess.”

The woman fled from the shop, forgetting all about her greasy laptop and all of her personal belongings now scattered about the store. Effie stared after her in somewhat impressed astonishment. She looked at the woman bending to pick up the checkbook and plastic, and nodded as she grabbed it and the computer, automatically going to the safe. “I can ship it out tonight,” she said simply with a shrug. “She left her address on file, and I think her license is somewhere in that mess too.”

“Uh --” Effie looked down at the two little creatures. “Well, uh…” Actually, it was probably a good idea to check in to see how she actually felt about the existence of … these things. Fae. Had to be. Her grandmother’s warnings echoed in her head along with the insistence that she eat more dinner. “I’ve been around,” was all she said. “And I don’t particularly… ask questions unless I need to know.” It was simpler that way, anyway, and it kept people at arm's length, which is what she liked.

She stooped under the counter and pulled out paperwork -- the ones to start a ticket. “Your phone’s been waterlogged, right? Just fill this stuff out for me and I’ll take a look to see if there’s anything I can do. And you two…” she looked down at the two creatures. She looked back at Morgan. “Uh. I have candy??”

Morgan’s tired face brightened with relief. Slowly, she smiled. “Wow. I think that might actually be a first. I’m guessing that’s how you and this place are still standing.” She grabbed the paperwork and filled it out, writing a little ‘no promises’ in the corner, punctuated with a smiley face as a warning.

At the mention of candy, Morgan checked back in on the two pixies, who paused in their frolicking to proclaim, “We accept your tribute!” before going back to making the dollar bills roll like a mini ocean. “You really do know what you’re doing. I had to ask an expert to figure that one out,” she marvelled, sliding the pad over. “I know these aren’t the most auspicious circumstances, but my name is Morgan Beck and you just became my new favorite person in town.”

#wickedswriting #para #para morgan #morgan

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artificialqueens · 4 years ago

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Reckless (Bianca & Adore) - Candy Cane

A/N: im living in 2015 right now so like. ignore me fsdfsdf but anyways, here’s 2.8k of more incredibly self-indulgent fanfiction. i wrote this as platonic, but if you wanna see anything in here as romantic be my guest!! id like to thank chaoticnachokitten for supporting me and giving me ideas and beta'ing and i just- GAAAHH THANK YOU!! and thanks to everyone else who had such nice words to say abt my last one, it means soooo much 🥺🥺🥺

Summary: Adore and Bianca hang out, but of course things go wrong.

Adore loves hanging out with Bianca. Not only is she her best friend, but she’s the kind of person Adore thought would’ve hated her. But that’s not the case at all, there’s some sort of weird mutual respect and admiration going on between them, and it is fucking awesome.

The young musician knows she can be… a lot sometimes, what with her natural hyperactive toddler personality type, and it amazes her Bianca puts up with her. Especially in moments where Adore knows she shouldn’t be bothering her friend, but decides to anyways because Bianca can be boring sometimes. Moments like this one.

Adore had a gig at one of the clubs, and it ran much later than she had originally anticipated, but that was mostly due to her wanting to stay for Bianca’s set too. Of course, that led to them sharing a few too many drinks together while they stayed to watch some more performers. So when it came time for them to go home, Adore can’t find her keys.

It’s late. Late enough there’s no guarantee Adore’s roommates will be up to let her back into the apartment. The singer immediately turns to her oldest, nearest, dearest friend.

“Oh my God,” Bianca sighs whilst massaging her temples, seeing the next ten hours play out clear as day in front of her.

“Pleaaase can I stay at your place tonight Bia?” Adore asks, using her most pitiful voice and absolute poutiest facial expression.

They’re sat at a table in the back, Adore’s hands perched on Bianca’s knees as she essentially begs. Adore’s too drunk to care.

“Why don’t you call someone to see if they’ll stay up for you?” Bianca retorts like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. To be fair, it probably is. Adore’s still too drunk to realize that though.

“Oh yeah,” she says, knowing she sounds like the world’s dumbest bitch. She fumbles with her phone for a few seconds, poking the screen and the on button for an embarrassing amount of time before turning to Bianca with another sad pouty face, “It’s dead.”

“Of course it’s fucking dead,” Bianca groans, playing it up like she really does mind Adore staying with her for the night. She doesn’t, she probably would never. Adore is like the niece she never had, and she wouldn’t trade that girl for the world.

“Why don’t I just call one of them on mine?” Bianca offers.

Adobe frowns, putting on her thinking face, “…I don’t remember their numbers.”

“I can call Courtney,” Bianca reminds her.

“Oh yeah!”

A few minutes later, they discover they cannot call Courtney. They try calling her twice, and both times are a bust.

She glances down at Adore, and chuckles when she sees the “Bambi eyes”. Even if she weren’t planning on letting the kid stay with her, that would’ve done her in. She hasn’t met a single person that can resist those eyes.

“I’ll be quiet! I promise!” the singer whines.

Bianca makes an exaggerated show of sighing and hemming and hawing, just to tease Adore, then cracks open a wide, amused smile, “Of course you can stay at my place, bitch.”

“Party!” Adore cheers, throwing her arms tightly around Bianca’s neck. It’s all the thanks Bianca needs.

They pay their bills, order a Lyft, and in more time than either would’ve preferred, they make it to Bianca’s huge ass apartment. The pair stumbles inside the building, trying to look as Not Drunk as they can, and failing miserably. It doesn’t matter anyways, it’s almost 3 a.m. meaning there’s not a soul alive there to watch them.

Bianca leads Adore to the elevator, even if it’s pointless because Adore randomly shows up at Bianca’s place at least three times a week. The singer grips Bianca’s hand tightly, giggling and stumbling while the comic practically barks at her to be quieter. They’re lucky it’s a Friday. Well, a Saturday now, Bianca supposes.

The pair climbs up the one flight of stairs to Bianca’s apartment, and then into the apartment itself after Bianca spends a couple minutes fumbling with her keys. The door swings open, and they both fall onto the nearest couch.

They’re breathless with laughter, and then it starts up again when Bianca realizes she hasn’t closed her apartment door yet.

After she locks her apartment back up and turns on some lights, the older woman finds she can’t take her eyes off of Adore. The younger is smiling so freely, and it ignites something inside Bianca. She’s not sure what it is, maybe youthfulness, or freedom, but she loves it.

“B! Oh my God! I have an idea!” Adore suddenly says, sitting up way too fast and clearly making herself dizzy.

“Don’t kill yourself, otherwise I’m the one that has to call 911. You think I want paramedics at my house before the sunrises? Fuck no,” Bianca berates her, but she’s quick to recompose herself when Adore goes all pouty again, “What’s your idea? God knows you only come up with a good one every millennium.”

Adore childishly sticks her tongue out at Bianca, “We should make waffles!”

“How the fuck are we supposed to make waffles? I’m not a cook, I don’t keep that shit in my house.”

Adore screws up her face cutely, clearly trying to think of a solution to her waffle problem. She brightens up again after a minute, looking very proud of herself, “Alyssa! I bet Alyssa has it!”

Bianca rolls her eyes, “You really think I wanna speak to her right now? At three in the goddamn morning?”

“But waffles!” Adore insists.

“Tomorrow,” Bianca promises, “Right now I want to get out of this clown costume and into bed.”

Adore sighs, then tries her best puppy eyes again, “Cuddles?”

“You’re here, aren’t you?” Bianca snorts. Adore smiles as bright as the sun, then at Bianca’s beckoning she follows her best friend down the hall so they can take off their makeup and get ready for bed. When they’re finally able to snuggle up in bed together, Adore in one of Bianca’s old shirts and pair of leggings, the whole apartment pitch black, and the only sound they could hear was the sound of each other’s breathing.

It’s soothing and warm. They sleep like rocks.

The sun wakes Adore up at way too fucking early though. Her head is pounding, her arm has fallen asleep from Bianca laying on it through the night, and she is really fucking hungry. Adore groans and gently pulls her arm out from under Bianca, then stumbles out of the way too big, way too soft bed to go find something to take care of her headache.

She’s quickly able to find where Bianca keeps those things (the mounted cabinet in the bathroom) because Adore used to spend a ridiculous amount of time at this apartment complaining about her ailments to Bianca, which of course lead Bianca to freely helping Adore out whenever. Bianca would act all cold and exasperated over it, but they both knew it was just a show.

Adore downs two of the pills dry and decides nearly immediately she should go find something to drink. In mere minutes she has a pot of coffee brewing, and simultaneously discovers that it’s only around 9 a.m.. Which is just overall… weird. Adore is almost never up this early, especially after the kind of night she had last night. The events of the night are still pretty fuzzy right now, but she still remembers everything. Mostly. She thinks.

One thing she does remember is a promise. A promise for waffles. Adore grins, an idea formulating in her head. Bianca is always so incredibly nice to her, helping her out and giving her whatever she wants. And sure, it’s not Mother’s Day, but that doesn’t mean Adore can’t show her appreciation for Bianca.

Clearly the woman deserves breakfast in bed. Courtesy of a little help from a next door neighbor (hopefully). The singer quickly grabs Bianca’s key off the counter and heads over to the one person she knows will have just what she wants.

Adore knocks on the door, and it’s only a minute later with an accompanied shout of ‘I’m comin’ hon!’ that the heavy white door is thrown open.

“Oh my goodness it’s Adore Delano!” Alyssa Edwards says excitedly, “Hello, doll!”

“Hi, Alyssa!” Adore smiles, “Um, I have a favor to ask of you?”

~*~

Bianca’s favorite way to wake up is slowly, with the sun streaming in through her bedroom window and having absolutely all the time in the world to get up, check her phone, and get ready for work. This morning is the exact fucking opposite.

First thing that wakes her up is the motherfucking fire alarm, causing her to scramble out of bed at a record speed. Second thing, she’s painfully aware that Adore isn’t in the bed with her. Bianca is halfway through screaming Adore’s name when she bursts out into the main room.

The main room is smokey as all hell. Adore is aiming a fire extinguisher at the counter from the other side of the kitchen. The counter is covered in white foam. Her damn fire alarm won’t shut up.

Bianca’s going to have a hard time explaining this one to the neighbors for sure.

The older woman breathes in slowly, but sharply, “Adore, what the fuck did you do?”

Adore doesn’t say anything. She lets go of the fire extinguisher, and they both wince when it crashes against the kitchen tile. Not for the first time, Bianca is glad that she lives on the first floor.

The two stare at each other, Adore resting boneless against the oven, her expression just screaming shock. She lifts her head to meet Bianca’s eyes.

Pounding on the door, someone starts shouting, “BIANCA?! HOLY GOD, IS EVERYTHING ALRIGHT?”

The woman in question is quick to open her apartment door, but instead of accepting the concern, she barks out, “What do you want?”

“The whole damn building knows your alarms are going off, Bianca!” Alyssa says sharply, shoving her way inside the apartment, “My girls are coming over in two hours! I can’t have my house burning down on me.” Bianca and Adore share a twin look of surprise. Alyssa’s always been Bianca’s favorite neighbor, that’s no secret, but this is a tightly concealed side of her that neither of them have ever really seen. It’s concern. Worry. But not for herself, for them. Even if it does come off as something else. This is just something not usually associated with her.

“Okay,” Bianca says carefully, “What the fuck is going on.”

“That’s what I want to know,” Alyssa agrees, lips pursed skeptically, “Adore told me y’all were making waffles.” It’s absurd. The fire alarm is still blaring. Adore has crushed herself into a nook, looking petrified. Bianca is very hungover and her most beloved annoying neighbor is standing in her house at way too early o’clock. Bianca suddenly realizes that even though there’s no fire, there’s still smoke in her apartment, and she really wants that alarm to shut the fuck up. Also, the smoke is going to stain her expensive shit if she doesn’t get it out.

She starts to open all the windows in the main room, and is grateful when Alyssa comes to help her. They make short work of it, and when she turns around to look at her best friend, she feels scared.

She’s scared that Adore might be hurt. She’s scared that she didn’t do anything to prevent this. But mostly she’s scared that something might be broken between them.

For the first time since walking in, Bianca notices bowls spread across her kitchen counter. Bowls and boxes and whisks… It clicks.

“Okay,” Bianca exhales, “Alyssa, what the fuck did you just say about waffles?”

“Adore came to me a little while ago and asked me if I could lend you two some waffle ingredients,” Alyssa starts slowly, “And I think to myself, ‘Now Alyssa Edwards, as a woman of God it is your duty to love your neighbor and let her make some waffles on this beautiful morning-’”

“Alyssa, you let my dumbass kid do WHAT?! You fucking know she can’t cook! We have had this conversation a hundred times!”

“Well, Adore said to me ‘Bianca and I’ not ‘I’m going to’! I thought you were gonna be helping her!”

“WHY WOULD YOU ASSUME THAT? WHEN HAVE I EVER COOKED?!”

“I’m sorry!” Adore snaps, her voice quivering and tears welling up in her eyes, causing Bianca and Alyssa to turn to her, “I’m so, so sorry- I didn’t mean for this to happen! I just- I just wanted-”

Bianca stares at Adore with shock, not fully comprehending everything happening. Between her hangover and the sheer chaos of the first fifteen minutes of being awake, she’s not entirely sure why Adore is so distressed. Adore starts whispering ‘I’m sorry’ over and over to herself, hugging her knees tight to her chest, tears starting to crawl down her face, and it hits Bianca like a train.

“Alyssa…” Bianca says slowly, but she’s unable to tear her eyes away from Adore.

Adore’s blaming herself completely and totally. And it makes sense, she is the one that started the whole mess. But Bianca can’t stand that look on Adore’s face. She’d much rather put the blame on Alyssa (who can more than handle it) instead of Adore (who is currently having a nervous breakdown).

But Adore isn’t having it.

“No, this is my fault. I’m not- I’m not that stupid, Bianca. I’m not that useless, either. I’m not a kid. I’m not someone you should leave supervision for. I’m fucking twenty-four. Stop treating me like I’m not,” Adore’s words are cold, but her face tells Bianca the musician is falling apart, “Look me in the eye, Bianca.”

She does.

“Yell at me,” Adore says.

She can’t. Bianca doesn’t even want to. She feels like she failed here, because Adore isn’t her kid but God does it feel like it sometimes.

“We’ll replace your stuff, Alyssa,” is what Bianca says instead.

Luckily, the woman accepts that as her cue to go. She gives Bianca a hug and a kiss on the cheek before she leaves, and sends air kisses Adore’s way. Adore gives Alyssa a weak smile.

The door closes. Bianca and Adore lock eyes.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Bianca says. It’s a tired, worried voice. Not at all what Adore was expecting, or even wanted.

“I wanted to surprise you,” Adore answers simply, arms crossed defensively over her chest, “You do so much for me. For everyone. And I know you said last night we’d do it together but I just… I wanted to do something for you.”

That alone melt’s Bianca’s heart. It’s been getting easier and easier lately for Adore, and by extension the rest of their friends, to do that. For a while she thought moving to this city was stupid, and probably the worst decision of her life. But even now, after such a chaotic fucking twenty-five minutes of being awake, Bianca is so happy she’s here.

“Next time, buy me something online,” Bianca says, warm and forgiving, instead of cold and biting like Adore would’ve expected.

The younger practically runs into Bianca’s open arms. The embrace is full of love, and Adore feels that it’s okay. She still blames herself, she’s still stupidly upset, but Bianca… Bianca makes her feel like everything will be okay.

They sit there hugging for a few minutes, then Bianca mutters, “Good thing you knew how to use that extinguisher, I think that’s been hanging there for ten years.”

Adore chuckles wetly, face buried into Bianca’s shoulder, “Yeah… Hey, shouldn’t have all the other alarms gone off too?”

Bianca freezes. Adore is right, all the other fire alarms in the building should’ve had people evacuating.

“I guess the building needs to get that fixed, huh? Maybe you being a walking disaster is a good thing after all, if that had been real, everyone would’ve been fucked.”

“Wow,” Adore whispers, “Maybe our building should get that checked too…? Oh my God. Oh my God.”

“What?!” Bianca asks, pulling away from Adore to see what’s wrong.

“I never went home last night,” Adore says, “I never charged my phone. I never texted my roommates.”

Bianca suddenly doubles over laughing, fully bellied and absolutely batshit crazy, “Good, Courtney doesn’t get nearly enough stress in her life!”

Adore breaks out into a grin, and feels her worries start to melt away. Somehow, Bianca is really fucking good at doing that.

“Alright,” Bianca sighs, looking at the pure mess that is now her kitchen, “Let’s charge our phones and order breakfast.”

And they do.

Neither would’ve spent the hour following that disaster any other way.

#rpdr fanfiction #adore delano #bianca del rio #alyssa edwards #biadore #gen fic #fluff #angst #fighting #lesbian au #cisgirl au #hurt/comfort #reckless #candy cane #tw fire #concrit welcome

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zealouswerewolfcollector · 4 years ago

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Never Say Goodbye

Another part of my Canon Divergence AU

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 or start reading the entire series on Ao3

Warnings: Suicidal thoughts, implied past torture, chronic pain, self-harm, lots and lots of angst

On Ao3

Maedhros was an immobile, dark stain against the green forest. He hadn’t moved since Maglor spotted him. Fingon was nowhere to be seen, and Maglor’s stomach twisted anxiously. He quickened his pace but slowed down again as a wave of agony went from his palm up to his shoulder. Maedhros looked up only when Maglor was almost right in front of him. He focused his gaze on his brother with difficulty.

“Well?” he asked.

Maglor thought that in the few days of his absence, his brother had gotten gaunter, weaker. He didn’t answer the question.

“Where is Fingon?” he asked instead.

“Fishing,” Maedhros said impatiently. “Did she agree?”

“Yes.”

Instead of relaxing, Maedhros tensed even more if possible. He inclined his head in a nod and seemingly forgot to raise it again.

Maglor sat in front of him. “We don’t have to do this,” he said gently, hopefully.

“Yes, we do.”

“But he wants to stay. Would you make a decision for him against his wishes?”

“Once he made a decision for me against my wishes. I have come to regret it, as he would too if he were in his right mind, but I will not regret this one. I am allowed to answer in kind, to save his life after I led him to torment and abandoned him to it twice.”

It was useless to argue that point with Maedhros, so Maglor tried another approach. “Fingon is better. He has even gone fishing. He will get better.” He hesitated for a moment. “I will not help you do it. It will destroy you.”

“How many days have you been away? Five? Six? Ten?” Maedhros said as if he hadn’t heard Maglor. “He has spent over half the time in terrible pain. He couldn’t move, didn’t know where he was, couldn’t remember anything, neither his name nor mine. And I could not do a thing, could do nothing except sitting there and telling him things he didn’t understand, I could not even damp a rag and put it on his head. Do you know how it feels to see someone you hold so dear in so much pain and be powerless to do anything to help?”

Maglor stared at Maedhros, swallowing down a biting reply. Maedhros’s eyes darted away for a moment, then returned to his brother.

“It will be done,” he said. “If it destroys me, let it be so.”

“No,” Maglor said through gritted teeth. “I won’t let it happen. I won’t let you send him away, so you can die. You will not leave me alone. I will help you only if you promise me that.”

Maedhros looked at him, and for a moment, Maglor was afraid his brother would either strike him or start weeping. But instead, his shoulders slumped, and he suddenly seemed smaller, insubstantial.

“Are you really doing this to me?” he asked in a low voice.

He already sounded defeated, so Maglor didn’t answer.

“I promise,” Maedhros said. “I promise I will live.”

Maglor felt no satisfaction for getting what he wanted because he saw how Maedhros’s eyes dimmed as if what life still remained inside of him took a step closer to the abyss.

“It’s a five-day walk,” Maglor said, looking away from his brother. “Maybe longer with Fingon. She guarantees our safety and freedom. Her husband won’t be there.”

Maedhros said nothing, didn’t nod, didn’t move.

“What are we going to tell him?” Maglor asked.

Not receiving an answer, he lapsed into silence too until Fingon returned.

“Makalaurë!” he exclaimed. “You are back.”

Maglor stood and hugged him carefully. Fingon, too, looked worse than before. He seemed more brittle, his eyes were sunken, his limp more pronounced, even the burn scar that stretched around his throat seemed darker. His hands were shaking so badly that he kept dropping the two small fish he had caught when trying to clean them. But he was smiling, his mood clearly improved after Maglor’s return.

“Did you find our cousin?” he asked after he was done with the fish.

Maglor nodded. “She is expecting us. We will be on our way as soon as we have eaten.”

Fingon’s smile disappeared. “She is… Whose daughter was she?”

“Uncle Arafinwë’s.”

“Oh, right. I met him. In the camp.”

Maglor was silent for a moment. “I know, Fingon. You told us.”

“Right.” He looked at Maedhros and asked quietly: “Why do we have to meet her?”

Maglor waited, but Maedhros didn’t look like he intended to answer. Seething, Maglor said: “She is our cousin, after all. She will be glad to see you. And… she might help you-us. With your ailments and ours.”

Fingon still looked unsure. “Is that the only reason?”

“Of course. What other reason could there be?” Maglor said, not without bitterness.

Fingon shrugged. “Is it true, Russandol?” he asked.

Maglor bit his lip, irritated. As if Russandol would tell him the truth. Maedhros didn’t answer for a long time, but Fingon waited patiently.

“Yes,” Maedhros said finally.

Fingon smiled. “Oh, wonderful. I would love to meet her.”

Maedhros turned away, and no matter how much Fingon insisted, he didn’t eat.

---

In the end, the journey took them over ten days between Maedhros walking as if in a dream, Fingon losing himself in pain, and Maglor exhausting all his strength to sing healing songs for his cousin.

When Fingon was asleep, Maglor tried to argue with his brother. It was the anger and the desire to do something, rather than hope, that forced him to hiss alternatives to Maedhros’s plan under his breath, while he changed the damp cloth on Fingon’s forehead or stroked his hair with nervous but gentle movements. Maedhros didn't answer. He spoke very little and never to Maglor. Sometimes Maglor thought his brother didn’t even hear him, but he would flinch and walk away whenever in his pain-filled delirium Fingon cried out things that were incomprehensible for Maglor. Maedhros often stayed silent, even when Fingon asked him something, but their cousin was relentless, repeating the question until Maedhros would say a few words. Fingon would smile to him but then send a concerned look to Maglor, to which he would answer with a helpless shrug.

Approaching Galadriel’s camp, Maglor had the same feeling as the last time. It was reminiscent of what he had felt while crossing the border of Doriath. Judging by Maedhros’s grimace, he felt the same. Fingon seemed wary. He rolled his shoulders as if trying to shake off the enchantment.

All three of them started when Galadriel appeared out of nowhere. She didn’t spare even a glance to Maedhros and Maglor, instead walked to Fingon with a smile.

“Cousin,” she said. “Welcome! I was glad to hear the news of your survival and gladder now that I can see you with my own eyes.”

“I am… glad to meet you,” Fingon says. “I…”

He looked furtively at Maedhros and Maglor, asking them for help. Maglor could tell from his eyes that he hadn’t remembered Galadriel.

“I have been told your memories aren’t complete,” Galadriel said, as though reading his mind. “Don’t worry, I don’t take offense if you cannot remember me yet. But surely you remember my brothers?” She linked her arm around Fingon’s, walking him away. Fingon tensed but followed her. “Angrod and Aegnor,” Galadriel said with a distant look. “They were your friends. You used to ride together in Aman and here, in Ard-galen-that-was.”

“I think…” Fingon glanced back at Maedhros and Maglor, who hadn’t moved, aware that there were others between the trees, so many eyes trained on them. “Aren’t Russandol and Makalaurë coming?”

Maglor saw the panic in his look and smiled a strained smile. “Of course we are,” he said.

Maedhros was already walking to him. Galadriel let go of Fingon’s arm and approached them. “I am doing this only for Fingon,” she said very quietly so that only they could hear. “Try to be invisible. I am barely holding back my people from slaughtering you.”

“We will not disturb you,” Maedhros said. The first words that he had spoken in a couple of days came out shakily.

Galadriel looked him over. Her gaze stopped for a few seconds at his bandaged left hand, then at his face, his dimmed eyes. She nodded.

When Maglor turned to Fingon, he seemed a little more at ease.

“I think I remember your brothers,” he said with a faint smile, which quickly faltered. “But they-they were angry with me?”

Maglor froze. They hadn’t talked with Fingon about Alqualondë yet and didn’t know how much he remembered.

Galadriel took his arm again. “It is all in the past, Fingon,” she said. “Let’s go.”

---

Someone was singing far away. Or maybe not too far away. Maedhros couldn’t tell anymore. It had become so difficult to process what was going on around him. His thoughts were slow. Voices reached him from a deep well. The last few days had all blended together, and if asked he couldn’t answer how long they had walked, in what direction; couldn’t tell when the day had changed into the night; was surprised to find himself sitting against a tree. He knew he was losing touch with reality at an alarming rate, but he was too tired to be concerned about it. He saved the remnants of his strength for Fingon, for making sure he would be safe. He had to do it and then… And then he couldn’t even die. Maglor wouldn’t let him.

The spike of anger died as quickly as it had risen. No strength to spare. His mind felt untethered. He wondered vaguely where his brother was. Not at the feast, surely, but probably not too far from it, keeping an eye on Fingon, repeating the new songs he heard under his breath to find a way to improve them. The thought almost brought a smile. He leaned back and felt life coursing under the bark of the tree. It grounded him enough to be able to hear someone approaching.

He would recognize Fingon’s footsteps, even if it weren’t for the distinct limp. He had missed those steps for the last hundred years, and now that they were back, he was doing everything to never hear them again.

“Russandol, here you are,” Fingon said, sitting next to him.

Maedhros noticed his wince and frowned.

“I am fine,” Fingon said, smiling. “Nothing hurts too much. I’ve brought you something to eat. Will you let me?”

Maedhros nodded just because he knew it would make Fingon smile again. He didn’t feel the taste of whatever it was Fingon was feeding him, focused on Fingon’s movements, on the minute changes in his expression as he strained to keep his hands steady.

“I like our cousin,” Fingon said, once Maedhros had eaten and drunk everything he had brought. “Although she is…” He paused, looking for the word. “Intimidating. And she doesn’t like you very much. But I think she can be convinced to help you. How long are we going to stay with her and her people?”

Maedhros could only raise his right shoulder. He didn’t trust himself to speak, didn’t trust himself to even breathe, afraid that he would give himself away, would confess the lie, and ruin everything.

“I know it is hard for you, Russandol,” Fingon said softly. “I know that feeling. Back there, I was constantly afraid that I would forget how to speak, so I kept talking to myself in the dark, but it got harder and harder to do until I forgot why I wanted to remember. But you helped me, you helped me remember, and I will help you too.”

He moved a little forward as he spoke. His eyes were so bright, and Maedhros’s entire being longed for a touch, for a moment, just a moment of oblivion. He strained all his muscles deliberately, to stop himself, to lock himself up in his invisible prison. Then he looked at Fingon again and in a moment of weakness, decided to give in to the temptation, just this one time, as an apology, as a farewell. He inclined his head and rested his forehead against Fingon’s.

Fingon's lips twitched in that half-smile that Maedhros knew so well, that he had been gifted with so often, that he hadn’t seen for so long. He found himself smiling in return, letting himself forget for a moment everything that had happened and was going to happen.

Fingon raised his hand to Maedhros’s face with a gentleness that even Angband hadn’t been able to beat out of him. Maedhros could feel the tremble in his fingers. He wished desperately to reciprocate the gesture but trying to move his left hand resulted in a gasp and a wince.

Fingon cupped his face, frowning a little in concern. Maedhros’s eyes closed of their own volition. His lips moved, forming words he didn’t dare to say out loud.

“Forgive me,” he whispered.

“There is nothing to forgive, Russandol,” Fingon said.

Maedhros shook his head, tried to find a way to tell him but couldn’t. Words were eluding him, hiding in the mist that was threatening to invade his mind. Another slight against his father’s legacy. The thought made him laugh soundlessly, only his shoulders moving.

“Findekáno,” he said finally. “More than anything in the world, I want you to be safe, I want you to heal, I want you to be happy.”

“I know that,” Fingon said, puzzled.

“Forgive me,” Maedhros repeated in despair.

“Of course,” Fingon said readily.

Maedhros winced again and pulled away. He turned his back to Fingon. “They will miss you there,” he said.

“Did I do something wrong?” Fingon didn’t sound hurt, but there was worry in his voice and a note of fear.

Maedhros turned to him. “No! No, you did nothing wrong.”

He ached with the need to touch him, to reassure him. For a moment, he regretted breaking skin contact, but no, that had to be done. He had no right. No right to seek comfort with Fingon when he was lying to him, betraying him, even if it was for his own good.

“Nothing wrong,” he said. “I only wish to be alone.”

Fingon nodded. He didn’t smile as he stood and walked away. Maedhros leaned back against the tree, drained. He knew Fingon hadn’t gone far. He could feel his eyes on him from somewhere between the trees. He took a breath and curled his fingers. Pain, piercing and all-consuming, shot up his arm, went like a lightning bolt through his entire body. He opened his mouth in a silent scream, then fell forward, dizzy, breathless, biting his lip, feeling the blood trickle down his chin. He gave himself a few moments to breathe. Then he did it again.

---

Maglor didn’t sleep the night, wandering along the outskirts of Galadriel’s camp to avoid suspicious and sometimes outright hostile stares. He thought he was the first to see Finarfin approaching with a few of his chosen warriors. No, not the first. His cousin appeared suddenly, way ahead of him, and threw her arms around her father. Maglor found it prudent to draw back.

He saw Maedhros sitting on the ground and Fingon behind him, trying to braid his hair. Maedhros face was twisted horrifically, as though he was being put through the worst torture. Fingon broke his concentration to raise his head and smile at Maglor, who forced himself to smile back. He knew now the answer to his question. Maedhros hadn’t told Fingon. Not that Maglor thought his brother would have the courage.

He walked away and found a good spot to hide just in time to see Galadriel approach Maedhros and Fingon. She said something very quietly. Fingon tied Maedhros’s braid with a narrow piece of cloth and got to his feet, closing his eyes tightly for a moment and swaying. Maglor sighed. Dizziness usually preceded Fingon’s debilitating headaches, which would definitely make this whole deal a lot harder.

“Would you like to come with us, Russandol?” Fingon asked.

Maedhros stood with his help but shook his head. Galadriel took Fingon’s arm and led him away. Maedhros stared after them for a moment, then forcefully tore his gaze away and curled his fingers, quivering. Maglor flinched and almost ran to his brother, but Fingon’s cry distracted him. Maglor turned his head and saw through the trees Finarfin’s armor glinting dully. He had one hand on Fingon’s shoulder, the other one raised to his nephew’s face but not touching. Galadriel was gripping his arm. Even from that distance, Maglor could see that Fingon was trembling.

“Let me go,” he said, pulling away from Finarfin.

“Listen to me,” Finarfin said. “Findekáno, please, just listen—”

But Fingon was shaking his head. “I am not-don’t want to— Please, let me go!” His voice was louder now, frantic. Maglor’s wanted to stop listening, wanted Finarfin to leave, wanted Fingon gone already, so this would be over. He glanced at Maedhros, who had thrown his right arm over his eyes. Maglor wanted to go to him, to shake him, to make him put an end to this.

“Russandol!” Fingon called.

Maedhros jolted and pressed his back to the great tree he was hiding behind.

Go to him, you coward, Maglor found himself thinking.

“Russandol, you said you would never lie to me!” Fingon’s voice was getting more and more distraught. “Why are you doing this to me?” Soft murmurs tried in vain to placate him. “Russandol, please!” he cried. “Please don’t do this to me.”

Fingon’s words hit Maedhros like a boulder. His eyes glazed over. He slid down the tree and sat there, dazed, his look empty. It seemed like all the threads tying him to life had snapped all at once.

“Makalaurë!” Fingon called in despair. “Please help me!”

I am helping you; I chose you over my own brother. Maglor himself was surprised by how bitter and even vicious the thought was. He was angry, angry with himself, with Maedhros, with Galadriel, angry even with Fingon, who was blameless in this.

He closed his ears, hid deeper in the shadows, but when Fingon desperately called his name again, he walked to his cousin almost against his will.

Finarfin was holding him by the shoulders, both he and Galadriel were whispering, but Fingon kept shaking his head, trying to twist away. When he saw Maglor, his eyes lit up with hope.

“Makalaurë,” he said, his voice breaking. “Tell them I am not leaving. Where—” His face was distorted in pain. “Where is Russandol?”

“He doesn’t feel well.”

He hated how concerned Fingon suddenly looked, forgetting about his ordeal, hated that he could not hate him.

Fingon tried to say something, but it turned into a sharp hiss of pain.

“Let’s go sit somewhere and talk, all right?” Maglor said.

He looked at Finarfin, who reluctantly let go of his nephew’s shoulders. Fingon’s knees buckled, but Maglor caught him with one arm, steadied him, then took his hand and pulled him away. Fingon sat carefully under a tree and hid his head in his hands.

“Is it a bad one?” Maglor asked.

Fingon didn’t answer, focused on controlling his breathing. “Why—” he started, then closed his eyes tightly and pressed his fingertips to his temples. “Why would you do this? I don’t-don’t want to— Take me to Russandol.”

“Later,” Maglor said. “When you both recover a little. You cannot talk to him like this, can you?”

“I told him—” Fingon gasped and clutched at the knee of his bad leg. Maglor knew it meant the pain had spread through his entire body, inflaming every injury, old and new. “Told him— Why wouldn’t he listen? Tell them—”

Fingon grabbed Maglor’s uninjured hand, squeezing it hard enough to hurt. He doubled over, keening thinly. Maglor realized what he had to do, but it took him a few moments to cross that line.

“How about I sing a song of healing, and we will talk when you feel better?” he offered.

Fingon squeezed his hand again, lightly this time, to signify his consent.

Maglor started an ancient slow song. Galadriel and Finarfin, who had followed them at a distance, joined him. Fingon’s pain was great enough that he didn’t even question it, didn’t question that this wasn’t similar to the healing songs Maglor had sung for him before. As the song went on, the purple flowers peeking through the grass bowed their heads, the branches of the tree above them lowered, and Fingon fell into a deep sleep, leaning against his cousin.

When Maglor fell silent, Galadriel and Finarfin approached.

“You have days. Get him to the ship before he wakes,” Maglor said, struggling to get the words out through the haze of weariness and grief. He rested his head against Fingon’s, murmuring an apology.

“Thank you,” Finarfin said, his voice strangled.

He picked up Fingon, nodded at Maglor, and walked away. Galadriel said something, but Maglor was already past the brink of consciousness.

When he woke up, there was no sign of Galadriel’s or Finarfin’s people. His hand was newly bandaged and seemed to hurt a little less. There were a few pouches in his lap with what he assumed was food. Maedhros was sitting next to him, awake but motionless. He, too, had new bandages and food.

Maglor didn’t know what to say or what to do now. All the words on his tongue were bitter and angry, so he swallowed them down because they were of no use. He just sat in silence, waiting for Maedhros to take the first step and knowing that he wouldn’t. As he expected, Maedhros neither moved nor spoke. When Maglor, restless and eager to leave, pulled him to his feet and offered to start walking, Maedhros followed him, but he didn’t make a sound, and Maglor knew that he would not speak again. All the threads tying him to life had indeed snapped all at once, leaving only one, his promise to his brother.

#silmarillion #maglor #maedhros #fingon #some others too #is there anything more intimate than a forehead touch #maybe hair-braiding #canon divergence #zwc fic

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iffeelscouldkill · 4 years ago

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say what we wanna do, make it all come true (chapter 1)

A/N: It is! My fic for the Fiction Podcast Big Bang @podcastbigbang! I am a bit terrified to be posting this after working on it for so long! Also this is in the running for the Longest TSCOSI Fic I’ve Written So Far (not sure if it’s the longest because I don’t remember where my wordcount is up to for Adjusting, but like... it’s long, guys). This is Chapter 1 of 3, and the remaining chapters will be posted weekly!

You can read this on AO3 where the formatting is honestly much better, but here it is on Tumblr anyway. Also, please check out the FANTASTIC artwork made for this fic by the wonderful @bluereadingdolphin and @demonic-kitkats, who are my artists for this fic and their artwork is so good, you guys, I’m in love and they did such a phenomenal job with the honestly pretty vague info they got from me 😂

bluereadingdolphin’s piece

demonic-kitkat’s piece (from Chapter 2!)

Please give them all the love!

Content warnings: There is a relatively brief physical altercation described in this chapter, but it isn’t graphic or bloody.

Also, I play a little fast and loose with POV in this; the first section is told from Sana’s perspective, the rest from Arkady’s.

---

“Hello and welcome back to Radio Indie, Folk and Techno, also known as RIFT, where we play all the bands that matter outside of the mainstream! I’m Piper Tanaka, and I’m your co-host for this programme! I’m joined as usual by the lovely Kestrel Colvin, with Reina Sakamachi in the booth! Now – where were we?”

“You were introducing our guests for this next section,” Kestrel replied in a slightly despairing tone.

“Right! Indie fans, I am joined today by two members of the fabulous up-and-coming indie band Rumor! With me in the studio are frontwoman and lead guitarist Sana Tripathi—”

��Hey! It’s a pleasure to be here.”

“—and bad girl bassist Arkady Patel.”

“Bad girl?” Arkady repeated, sounding halfway between taken aback and annoyed. Kestrel just shook her head.

“Ignore her. She’s got a thing for a certain… aesthetic.”

Next to Arkady, Sana was doing an incredibly poor job of hiding her laughter. “It’s the combat boots,” she whispered to Arkady.

“These are practical,” Arkady told her in a tone that suggested they’d had this conversation a few times. Sana said nothing, but straightened back up with a smirk.

“Sana — or should I call you ‘Captain’?” Piper began playfully. Sana grimaced.

“In hindsight, it was a poor choice to share that nickname in an interview.”

“You know, I think it suits you,” said Piper. “There’s something commanding about your aura. Sana, you and the band — which I understand you and Arkady originally started as a duo a few years ago—”

“That’s right,” Sana confirmed.

“You’ve always had a dedicated and loyal following, even from your early days — and we’re proud to have been playing your music here on this station for almost as long — but I think it’s fair to say the past few months have seen that rocket to a whole new level,” Piper said. “You got signed to a record label belonging to the mysterious but notoriously discerning Red Gregor, are working on your second album, and played a major gig at the CUI stadium just a few weeks ago. And we are definitely going to talk later about what went down at that gig, which is already the stuff of online legend — but first I want to backtrack a little, because I think the moment that everything started happening for you was when you added a new member to your band. In the middle of a gig, if the rumours are true. Can you tell us how that happened?”

Sana and Arkady exchanged a sidelong glance, and Arkady gave Sana a tiny nod. Sana took a deep breath, and began to tell the story.

---

“Jeeter, for the last time, put the keytar away,” Arkady said irritably as she and Sana entered the draughty, abandoned warehouse that the band was using as their current rehearsal space. The acoustics were pretty weird, probably due to all the broken windows, but it was otherwise hard to beat a free place to rehearse — especially a free place with no asshole neighbours who would yell at them to turn it down and threaten to call the cops.

Admittedly, it was in kind of a rough area, but Arkady had only needed to knock someone unconscious with her bass once.

In retaliation, Brian played another bright riff on his beloved instrument, accompanied by some jazzy keyboard chords from Krejjh. The two had been jamming together before Arkady and Sana arrived. “Dude, c’mon, can’t you hear how good this sounds?” Brian wheedled. “How many other indie bands do you know that have a keytar?”

“None. For good reason,” Arkady said, unzipping her case and slinging her bass around her neck. Sana, unpacking the sound equipment, smiled in fond amusement at their well-worn argument.

“It would give us such a great edge! Totally unique. And Krejjh and I have so many ideas that would sound great with both instruments—”

“Okay, Jeeter,” Arkady interrupted him, twiddling one of her tuning pegs. “You can play the keytar. Just as soon as you find us someone else who can play the drums.” She stooped to plug her bass into the portable amplifier that Sana had just unpacked. “Or are you planning to grow an extra pair of hands so you can play both at once?”

“Oooh! No, I should have an extra pair of hands!” Krejjh immediately (and predictably) enthused. “Then I’d sound four times as awesome! Four hands, all rockin’ out!”

“I think you mean ‘twice as awesome’,” Sana told them, as Brian reluctantly put away his keytar and picked up his neglected drumsticks.

“With me, twice the hands equals four times the awesome,” Krejjh replied with irrefutable logic. Brian laughed and held up a hand.

“Dude, high five.”

Sana waited for the two of them to finish their congratulatory high-five before she called the band to order. “Okay, guys — remember that we’re only a few days out from our gig at the IGR Corp function, so we need to have our crowd-pleasers up to standard.”

Arkady immediately wrinkled her nose. “Ugh, corporates. Why are we taking money from them again?”

“Because we need to pay for rent and food,” Sana said, bluntly. “And they’re giving us a lot for it. I know none of us love playing corporate gigs—”

“Understatement.”

“—but we are living a hand to mouth existence at this point, and if I can guarantee our survival as a band by relieving some corporates of their excess funds, then I’m going to do just that,” Sana continued. She waited a beat, and then added, “Also, we’re gonna let them get really drunk and then start playing our best anti-capitalist anthems, and see how long it takes for them to notice.”

Arkady broke into a shit-eating grin. “That’s more like it.” Krejjh cheered, and Brian did a little run-down on his drumkit, hitting each of the drums in turn.

“All right, let’s start with ‘Fear for the Storm’? One, two, three, four…” Sana started strumming the intro on her guitar, joined after a few beats by Krejjh’s melody on the keyboard.

“So long, can’t dodge the dawn, red light shines on and on and on and on and on…”

---

Arkady had been on edge ever since the band set foot in the agonisingly hipster office complex — excuse me, ‘headquarters’ — belonging to IGR Corp.

It wasn’t just the fact that these guys were extremely corporate corporates, or that the whole place radiated an almost aggressively minimalist aesthetic, or that the walls were covered in bullshit, chipper slogans that were all fancy ways of saying, ‘Work should be your existence – if isn’t, you’re dead to us’ — although those things sure as hell didn’t help, reminding her of the absolute worst parts of every soul-sucking corporate job she’d worked before Sana mercifully re-entered her life and suggested they form a band.

No, there was just this weird vibe, like everyone was super on edge and trying to hide it — the higher-ups were stone-faced, muttering into earpieces or barking orders at underlings, who scurried, terrified, to carry out their wishes. And everyone else, from the tech types in plain white T-shirts and jeans to the smartly-dressed sales reps in suits, looked like they were there on pain of death. Wasn’t this supposed to be a party?

The atmosphere didn’t go unnoticed by the other band members. “Kind of a weird feel to this place,” Jeeter remarked as he unpacked his drumkit on the raised platform at the front of the ‘rec center’ where they would be performing. Normally, setting up was a noisy, clumsy affair, with the band elbowing each other, tripping over wires, and getting in each other’s way in the tiny space they were afforded in bars and nightclubs. Here, the platform that would be their makeshift stage was huge and extremely visible — but everyone was completely ignoring them. There was also very little background noise for a room packed with people, and the band found themselves speaking in hushed murmurs, almost tiptoeing around. “You’d think there would be a bit more… chatter?”

“Maybe the alcohol just isn’t flowing yet,” Sana speculated, but she sounded uneasy as she looked out over the tense crowd. Even Krejjh, with their signature hot pink, heart-shaped sunglasses perched on top of their dyed-lavender hair, dressed in a clashing, flamboyant jumble of clothes and accessories, seemed subdued.

Arkady plugged in her bass with a burst of static, and deliberately played a loud riff. Brian startled and dropped his drumstick, but not a single member of the sea of blandly-dressed IGR Corp employees flinched.

Weird.

The sound equipment was all set up, sound check performed and instruments tuned by half past, but the set wasn’t due to start until o’clock. Normally, Arkady would be making a beeline for the bar, but she didn’t really feel like rubbing shoulders with any of these weird drones. She found herself reflexively checking the exits, mentally charting their fastest route out of there in case something really fucked up started going down. Sana half-jokingly called it paranoia; Arkady called it long, hard experience.

It was on one of her scans of the room that she noticed the woman with the septum piercing. Arkady chalked it up to professional interest — as a kid, she’d picked up some extra money working as an assistant in a tattoo and piercing shop, The Landing. She’d first met Sana there when the other woman came in on several occasions to have work done on an amazingly intricate floral sleeve tattoo — her own design. Later, Sana had led a campaign to save The Landing from being shut down over a bunch of bullshit health code violations so that the billionaire Cresswin family — who owned the property — could sell it off to a shitty corporation.

The campaign hadn’t worked, and there was now a high rise office block where Arkady’s home from home had once stood. But Arkady had never forgotten Sana.

Anyway, it was definitely the woman’s piercing and not anything else about her appearance that caught Arkady’s attention first. But then she noticed that there was something off about her body language and the way she was moving — something that Arkady recognised. She wasn’t scurrying about in a panic or affecting bored disinterest; her eyes were flickering around the room, carefully monitoring the comings and goings of the other employees while seeming not to do so. There were little devices studded around the room that Arkady had clocked as security cameras the moment they entered (it was the kind of thing she made a habit of noticing), and she saw the woman glancing up at them.

She was dressed like an employee – white blouse, dark rinse blue jeans – so why was she acting like she was casing the joint? Of course, Arkady reasoned, the outfit could easily have been chosen to blend in. It didn’t necessarily mean she worked there.

“Seen something interesting, ‘Kady?” Sana asked playfully. Arkady didn’t startle, but it was a near thing; she’d been so focused on watching this woman.

Unfortunately, Sana saw where she’d been looking. “You know, we’ve still got close to half an hour before we start our first set,” she said. “You can go and mingle.”

“I’m not here to socialise,” Arkady said witheringly. “Least of all with corporate drones.” She tore her eyes away from the woman to meet Sana’s amused look.

“I’m just saying, you seemed pretty absorbed there…” Sana said, and Arkady rolled her eyes, determined not to respond to her best friend’s teasing. She glanced back at the spot where the woman had been standing and found it empty.

A second later, Arkady had found her again, weaving through the crowd with her head ducked down. She was taking an odd route across the room that Arkady realised must have been calculated to avoid the security cameras. Occasionally she disappeared, behind people or objects (like a huge, obviously fake ficus plant), but it wasn’t hard for Arkady to spot her again. Clearly there was some kind of purpose to what she was doing, but the woman wasn’t a professional.

There was an elevator against the far wall, and as Arkady watched, the doors opened and a small group of people in suits – latecomers to the party – walked out of it. The woman mingled with them briefly, and then disappeared inside the elevator. The doors closed.

Well, that had been a way to kill five minutes, but now Arkady was stuck with nothing to do again. Krejjh and Jeeter had pulled out a pack of cards, and were playing one of their weird games on top of Krejjh’s keyboard. Arkady turned to Sana, about to make another comment about how much this place creeped her out, when she caught sight of the other person moving across the room.

Judging by the expensive suit, they were a higher-up, and were taking none of the precautions the woman had when making their way across the room, which suggested that they were confident about being allowed to do whatever it was they were doing. And to Arkady, it looked an awful lot like they were following the woman she’d seen. Based on the way the suit jacket fell, she’d also bet even money that they were armed.

Sure enough, the suit called the elevator, and disappeared into it a second later. Arkady swore under her breath.

It was none of her goddamn business whether a person she didn’t even know might be in danger, Arkady told herself. She was here to play music, not to get in the middle of whatever might be going down at this godawful corporation. Which again, was none of her business anyway.

Her resolve lasted all of ten seconds.

“I’m going to get a drink,” she told Sana, and placed her bass onto its stand.

“Oooh! Bring me a cocktail – no, a mocktail!” Krejjh said. Sana just looked at her quizzically.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

Arkady nodded briefly. “I’ll be right back,” she said, and jumped down off the platform.

She wasn’t under any illusions that Sana wouldn’t notice where she was going, and just hoped that her best friend would trust her to be back in time for the set. She slipped through the crowd, following the same path that the woman had taken to avoid the watchful eyes of the security cameras.

This worked right up until she entered the elevator, where sure enough, a security camera was embedded into the top corner. How had this woman planned to avoid getting caught?

Arkady pulled out her smartphone, and began to quickly and expertly worm her way into the closed network that IGR Corp was using for its security systems. After just a few moments, she’d managed to identify the IP address that the lift camera was using, and wow, whoever had set up this system was either incredibly lazy or was trying to lay out a welcome mat for hackers. They hadn’t bothered to change the default access password.

Arkady wound back the last few minutes of recorded video, and watched as the woman with the septum piercing pressed the button for the top floor. Arkady did the same, and as the elevator moved upwards, she introduced a glitch that would cause the security camera to loop footage of an empty elevator instead of showing who was actually inside. Then she worked to edit out the archive footage of the woman riding up in the elevator, and of herself getting in.

If it turned out that there was nothing weird going on here after all, well, she’d had some fun exploiting the corporates’ shitty security system.

But Arkady was pretty sure there was something weird going on.

The elevator came to a silent stop, and Arkady silently thanked the deities she didn’t really believe in for the fact that this place was too hipster to have an elevator that made a noise when it arrived at the right floor. The doors slid open, and Arkady immediately spotted another security camera on exiting the elevator. God, these corporates were paranoid. But apparently not paranoid enough to pay their security person to do their job properly.

Annoyingly, the security cameras for this floor seemed to be on a separate network, and Arkady started another hack as she crept down the corridor, straining her ears for the sounds of a confrontation. Further down, she saw an office door swinging open, as if someone had gone through it in a hurry. Arkady approached it, being careful to stay out of sight of the doorway. Closer to, she could hear a voice coming from inside – the suit’s, if she had to guess.

“…sure CEO Golding-Frederick will be very interested to hear just what you’re doing in her office, Ms. Liu.”

“Seiders, I can explain,” the woman – Liu – replied, her voice high with tension. “Project ADVANCE – it’s not what we’ve been told. The company is using it to-”

“What the company may or may not be doing with Project ADVANCE is not your concern,” Seiders said smoothly, over her, “and is a long way above your pay grade. But I’d be very interested to learn where you got your information from.”

“Do you know what’s going on at this company?” Liu demanded, outraged. “And that’s – you have no problems with what they’re doing?”

The closed network for the top floor of the building was much less of a pushover than the elevator, and Arkady kept half of her attention on the conversation inside the room as she worked to find a flaw in the system. Finally, she made it in, and began trying different password combinations for the camera in the hallway.

“It’s not my job to ask questions, Ms. Liu,” Seiders had been saying. “Neither is it yours. And if you value your job – not to mention the safety and security of your loved ones – you’ll step away from that computer, and go back downstairs to the party.”

“Are you threatening me? Are you threatening my family?” Liu demanded. “No, I’m not going to stay silent about this. Someone has to take a stand against what this company is doing. And if anything happens to me, that’ll only raise more questions.”

“We’re very good at making those questions go away,” said Seiders, and Arkady heard Liu suck in a breath. She moved so that she could see inside the room and shit, that was a gun. Arkady rapidly began calculating her angle of attack. “Didn’t you ever wonder what happened to Connors from Engineering?”

“That’s not – you can’t just make a person disappear,” Liu said, desperately. “I – I have insurance! Documents that I’ve sent to a friend of mine. If I don’t check in with them in two hours, they’re going to send them to a journalist contact, and it’ll be all over the press in the morning.”

Arkady could hear the lie in her voice so clearly, and she knew Seiders could, too. “If you had enough evidence to be worth a damn, you wouldn’t have broken into this office,” they replied. “I’m going to ask you one last time. Step away from the-”

Arkady slammed into the room, deliberately making as much noise as she could to draw Seiders’ attention. She took two, three steps towards them and grabbed their gun hand, forcing it down and towards the floor. She managed to hook one arm around their throat, pulling back and applying pressure. Seiders choked, struggling and jerking against Arkady’s grip. With the hand that was holding their gun hand, Arkady twisted and pulled their fingers open, causing the weapon to drop to the floor.

“Liu, grab the gun!” Arkady ordered. She saw the other woman yank something out of the computer that looked like a flash drive, stowing it inside her blouse. She dove for the gun at the same time that Seiders managed to thrust an elbow back, driving it into Arkady’s midsection.

All the air left Arkady’s lungs and as she struggled to draw a breath in, Seiders took advantage of her loosened grip to twist free. They grappled with Liu for the gun, but Liu succeeded in kicking it away, where it spun underneath a nearby cabinet. Then Arkady was on Seiders again, jumping onto their back and choking them.

She heard the sound of running footsteps, and someone else burst into the room. Arkady didn’t get a chance to see who it was before Seiders slammed their head back, knocking into Arkady’s and making bright white lights explode across her vision. She dropped to the floor and staggered, trying to clear her head.

She heard an oof and a thud, and blinked rapidly, sure that she would open her eyes to see Seiders bearing down on Liu – or worse, standing over her unconscious body.

Instead, she was greeted with the sight of Seiders crumpling like a sack of potatoes as Sana flexed her fist, having delivered a powerful uppercut that knocked them out cold.

Silence reigned for a few seconds, broken only by Liu’s sharp, panicked breaths. Rubbing her head, Arkady said, “Hey, Sana.”

“The next time you decide to go off on a rescue mission,” Sana said, wryly, “you could at least tell me where you’re going.” She frowned as she took in Arkady’s dishevelled state. “Is your head all right?”

“I’ll be fine,” said Arkady. She was more concerned with Liu, who looked like she might be on the verge of a panic attack. “Hey, uh, it’s okay. We took care of them.”

“Who-” Liu managed, taking deep breaths in and out, clearly trying to steady her breathing. “Who are you?”

Sana smiled at her, warm and reassuring. “My name is Sana Tripathi, and this is Arkady Patel. We’re-”

There was a noise that sounded not unlike a herd of elephants storming down the corridor, and Arkady closed her eyes. She had a bad feeling she knew what was about to happen. Sure enough, in the next second Krejjh and Jeeter clattered through the door in all their clashing multicoloured glory: Jeeter in his signature loud paid shirt and those stupid khakis, and Krejjh with their… everything. Most of the clattering was coming from Krejjh’s many bangles.

“Cap’n Tripathi!” Krejjh said. “We’re here to assist you with – oh my god, are they dead?” They stared at the unconscious form of Seiders on the floor.

“They’re not dead, they’re just unconscious,” Arkady said, irritated. “Did you two really take off without anyone to watch the equipment?”

Sana turned back to Liu like nothing had happened. “We’re the band,” she finished succinctly. “I’m the guitarist and lead singer, Arkady here plays the bass, and Krejjh and Brian are our keyboardist and drummer.” She indicated each of them in turn. Jeeter waved, and Krejjh saluted for some reason. “And who are you?”

Liu blinked at her. “You… you just saved my life, and you don’t even know who I am?” she said. “Why would you do that?”

“For one thing, because you’d probably be dead if we hadn’t,” Arkady said. “You’re welcome for that, by the way.” She pulled out the phone to finish the hack on the security cameras that she’d started before she entered the room.

“I – no, I know that. I’m not ungrateful,” Liu said, sounding a little stung. “I’m just a little… in shock. My name is Violet Liu,” she added to Sana. “I, uh, work in IGR Corp’s neuroresearch division.”

“Good to meet you, Violet Liu,” Sana said, sounding like they were old friends catching up at the bar instead of total strangers talking to each other over an unconscious body. “’Kady, are you erasing the security footage?”

Arkady nodded.

“Good; Brian and I will carry our friend here,” Sana indicated Seiders with her foot, “into the hallway. I think I noticed a closet there we can hide them in.”

“Uh… are you guys really the band?” Liu asked, as Sana and Jeeter – who was much stronger than he looked – bent down to pick up Seiders. “You seem very…” She struggled to find the right words. “…good at this.”

“We have some unorthodox skillsets,” Sana said, beaming and dimpling at her. “We don’t normally make a habit of rescuing people in the middle of a gig, but Arkady has a soft spot for damsels in distress.”

Arkady fumbled her phone, and nearly dropped it. “Sana,” she hissed, mortified. Sana, who was already partway out of the door, winked and disappeared into the hallway.

After a moment, Arkady realised that she and Liu were the only ones in the room, Krejjh evidently having decided to go along and supervise, or something. She refocused her attention on the hack she was carrying out; she’d managed to hack the hallway security camera, and was erasing the footage from that, but she still needed to do the one in the office.

“Uh…” Liu awkwardly broke the silence. “Is there anything that you need me to…”

“Is anyone likely to be monitoring the security cameras in real-time?” Arkady asked her. The question came out sounding a little harsher than she’d intended, but it was hard to be diplomatic when she was focused on trying to break into a security system. Also, it was a little annoying that Liu apparently hadn’t thought about security cameras beyond the ones on the ground floor.

“N-no, the system is all automated,” Liu replied. Well, that was something, at least. “I, uh, I do have a virus that I was planning to use on the security system that would corrupt the footage. I just needed to find an access point.”

Fine, so there had been a plan of sorts. “This is quicker,” Arkady told her. “And the way I’m doing it, it won’t be so obvious that someone has tampered with the footage.”

“Thank you for that,” Liu said, quietly. “And thank you for – I mean, you don’t even know me, but you came up here to help me. Why?”

Arkady shrugged, keeping her shoulders hunched and avoiding Liu’s gaze. “You looked like you were in trouble,” she said shortly. And that was the office camera done. Arkady resisted the urge to change the password to something rude, and withdrew from the network. “And I don’t like corporations. What were you trying to do, blow the whistle on them or something?”

“Um, I-”

Before she could explain, Sana poked her head back into the room. “Arkady, are you done? Because I don’t think we should be hanging around up here.”

“I’m done,” Arkady said with a nod, pocketing her phone. The two of them joined Sana, Krejjh and Jeeter in the hallway.

“We need a plan to get Violet back downstairs and out of the building without her being seen,” Sana said quickly. “’Kady, do you think you two can make it out in fifteen minutes?”

Arkady huffed. “I can hack the security cams, but I can’t actually make us invisible,” she pointed out. “People are gonna notice us. If we waited until you guys started the set, then we might have a better chance, while everyone’s attention is on the band.”

“Listen – it’s not that I don’t really appreciate the help,” Liu cut in. Her face was set, like she was preparing to go to the gallows. “But none of this needs to be your problem. It’s my mess, and I can get myself out of it. You guys should go and start your set.”

“Oh, pshaw!” said Krejjh. “We’re not just gonna leave you to the bears!”

Jeeter smiled. “To the wolves,” he corrected Krejjh.

“Are y’sure? Because bears can be pretty terrifying.”

“We’re not about to abandon you now,” Sana said to Liu, gently. “Between the five of us, I’m sure we can figure out a pretty good plan.”

“Can’t we just pretend to be loading something into the truck?” Jeeter suggested. “And Violet can help us? We could give her a band jacket – make her look like she’s with us-”

“It’s too bad you don’t play!” Krejjh said to Violet. “We could add you into the set. The ultimate entourage!”

“Uh…” Violet said (at the same time as Arkady said, “Camouflage.”) “I mean, I do play something? But you guys already have a drummer.”

“Wait, you’re a drummer?” Jeeter said delightedly, as Krejjh straightened up so fast that Arkady thought they’d pull a muscle. Even Sana looked interested. “Are you good?”

“Have you ever played with a band before?” added Sana.

Liu smiled and shrugged awkwardly. “Well, drums aren’t really a solo instrument, so yeah. I used to jam with some friends in high school, and played some underground rock concerts in college. I was never really with a band – we just sort of used to form collectives based on who was around and wanted to play. It was fun, though.”

She’d avoided answering the question about how good she was, Arkady noticed, which probably meant she was good and was being modest about it. Goddamn it.

“So if, hypothetically speaking,” Sana said, “you joined a set without having rehearsed any of the music beforehand, would you be able to figure out a drum part?”

“Okay, hold on,” said Arkady, before Violet could respond. “Don’t you think IGR Corp is going to notice that one of their employees has just… joined the band?”

“We’ll swear up and down that it isn’t her,” Jeeter said. “And even if someone figures it out, what are they gonna do about it in front of everyone?”

“But wait, what about you?” Liu asked Jeeter. “Wouldn’t I be putting you out of a role in the band?”

“Nah,” Jeeter said happily. “I brought my keytar!”

“Oh my god,” Arkady groaned. She could tell when she was fighting a losing battle, but it didn’t stop her from making one last, token protest. “This is going to sound really goddamn weird.”

Sana grinned at her. “Well, you wanted to annoy some corporates,” she pointed out. “What better way to do it?”

---

The problem was, the new line-up didn’t sound weird at all.

It sounded good.

Liu, hastily disguised with an old band jacket and a spare pare of Krejjh’s sunglasses, fitted in with their set like she’d been rehearsing with them for weeks – months even. They did a quick sound check, Jeeter looking far too delighted as he amped up his keytar. Sana gave her usual cheerful introduction into the microphone, introducing the band as Renegade, the name they adopted for corporate gigs (Arkady was even more glad of it now, since it would make them harder to track down later). After a lukewarm reception from the assembled employees (none of whom seemed to notice, or care, that the band had grown an extra member), they launched into their first number, a reimagined cover of ‘What Shall We Do with the Drunken Sailor’.

It started off with Sana singing alone, before Krejjh joined in, their voices singing in close harmony, and then Arkady and finally Jeeter, the harmonies becoming increasingly layered as they went. The addition of the keytar made the song sound futuristic, almost the kind of thing you could imagine crews of space explorers singing together as they made their way into the unknown.

Liu picked up the beat easily, and as the song unfolded Arkady suddenly realised she could hear a fifth strand to the harmony, weaving in and out of the other voices, soft but distinctive: Liu was singing.

They moved on from the conventional crowd-pleasing openers to a more eclectic mix of songs, including some punk and anarchist numbers. Each time, Arkady was sure that the choice was going to throw Liu off, but she adapted smoothly to each one, altering her style to fit the vibe of the song. In one of the louder, heavier songs she even threw in an impromptu drum solo that had Krejjh whooping at the keyboard and Sana laughing as she riffed on her guitar.

Sana threw Arkady a look as the song ended, and there was a light in her eyes that Arkady knew far, far too well. It was the same light that Arkady had seen when Sana tracked her down at her latest deadbeat job and persuaded her to quit and start playing music with her; the same light that she’d had when they met Brian and Krejjh a year later and Sana had decided to turn their duo into a band.

Sana wanted Liu to join Rumor. And Arkady couldn’t even think of a good argument against it, apart from the fact that they barely knew anything about the woman other than that she could play the drums. And that she was a corporate, which Arkady thought was important not to lose sight of, even if Liu wasn’t on the greatest terms with her employer any more.

Speaking of which. Arkady was on high alert throughout the whole set, constantly scanning the crowd for signs of trouble, anyone who might be looking too closely at Liu or showed signs of moving towards the elevator. As they’d been setting up, Liu had told them that Seiders was middle management: someone who outranked her, but not someone who held a position of particular influence within the company or had the ear of the CEO. Someone who had ambitions above their station. It didn’t mean no-one would notice them missing, of course; but it meant that they might be someone who, for instance, would go after a rogue employee without notifying their superior, hoping to reap all of the credit.

The band moved into their final number, ‘Landers Never Stand Down’ – one of Sana and Arkady’s early compositions, whose lyrics Sana had written as a tribute to The Landing, and her and Arkady’s shared history. Normally, Arkady would object to wasting it on a corporate audience, but tonight, it felt like the right kind of ‘fuck you’.

“Landers never stand down,

Landers never bow,

Landers never stand down,

We don’t know how…”

They wound up the song in their usual fashion, repeating the chorus and getting fiercer and more defiant with each repetition, before ending in a final blaze of guitar chords.

“Thank you, everyone, you’ve been a wonder to perform for!” Sana said into the microphone as the chords faded away. She said the same thing at the end of every gig, but it had never felt more like a colossal understatement. “We’ve been Renegade, and we hope you have a great night!”

There was a small scattering of applause. Sana beamed out into the audience again, and then turned away from the microphone, sliding the power to ‘off’. “Well, that was-”

“Attention, all IGR Corp employees,” came a voice over the loudspeaker system. Sana froze, and Liu, who’d been leaning over to say something to Krejjh, paled visibly. “Please stay where you are. We will be carrying out a routine attendance check. Please do not exit the building.”

“Attendance check?” Arkady repeated.

“It’s a standard employee procedure,” Liu explained. “To make sure everyone’s… accounted for at corporate functions. Supposedly they’re optional, but it looks really bad if you’re not there and you don’t have a reason.”

“Do we think there’s a chance this is linked to…” Sana gestured towards the elevator. Liu shrugged helplessly.

“It could be, but even if it’s not, they’re gonna discover that Seiders is missing pretty quickly. And that I’m… unaccounted for.”

“Don’t worry,” said Jeeter, reassuringly. “We’ll figure out a way to get you out before that happens.”

“Dashing escapes are our speciality!” Krejjh contributed. This was true; the band hadn’t always played at the most above-the-board venues, and there’d been more than a few times they’d needed to get the hell out of Dodge before things got ugly. Well, uglier.

Sana nodded. “For now, just keep packing down, like nothing’s wrong,” she said.

As Krejjh packed down their keyboard and Jeeter helped Liu to disassemble the drumkit, Arkady said to Sana, “I’ll go with Liu, and we can sneak out a back entrance-”

Sana shook her head. “It’ll be more suspicious if we’re not seen leaving as a group.”

“We’ll just say we’re going to the bathroom,” Arkady said. “We’re allowed to do that, aren’t we?”

Sana started to reply, but then stopped, squinting at something on the other side of the room. Arkady tried to follow her gaze, but couldn’t see what she was looking at. “What is it?”

“I thought I saw…” Sana shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. Let’s try the front way first, and if they won’t let us leave, we’ll get creative.”

Unsurprisingly, when they carried the first load of equipment over to the rec room entrance, two stoic-looking IGR employees blocked their path, bouncer-style. Arkady eyed one of them, pretty sure she could take her in a one-to-one fight.

“Sorry, we can’t let you leave while an attendance check is ongoing,” said the employee, with a bland detachment. “Company policy.”

“It should only take about an hour,” the other added. “You can enjoy the free refreshments while you wait.”

An hour? Even if they hadn’t had a very pressing reason to get the hell out of there, Arkady would have been looking for the nearest fire escape to break out of. They were just supposed to cool their heels at IGR headquarters for an hour?

“Can we not at least load our equipment into the van in the meantime?” Sana asked reasonably. “This is a very heavy amplifier…” She made a show of struggling with the amp she’d been lifting with ease a few seconds ago, and Arkady suppressed a snort.

One of the corporates had opened their mouth, looking like they were about to object, when a friendly voice spoke from behind them. “Is there a problem here?”

They all turned to look at the person who’d spoken, and Arkady carefully masked her surprise: the tall, dark-skinned man dressed in an expensive-looking suit jacket, T-shirt and jeans combination was none other than Red Gregor, a close friend of Campbell’s. They’d met him once or twice, but what was he doing here?

“Who are you?” asked Corporate One, audibly unimpressed.

“Theodore Gregor; I’m the band’s executive producer,” Gregor introduced himself smoothly, handing Corporate Two a business card. Their eyes widened at whatever was written on it. “My clients have another engagement to get to tonight, so you can understand why it’s very important they be allowed to leave promptly. Additionally, their contract stipulates that they’re only obliged to perform for your company until-” he made a show of checking a gold watch, “-nine-thirty P.M., after which time we’ll need to bill you for every additional half-hour. Will your supervisors be signing off on the additional expenses?”

Corporates One and Two were visibly thrown by the torrent of information. Krejjh made a noise that was hastily stifled, while Arkady did her best to look bored and important.

“I… no, let me just contact my superior to get you the all-clear,” said Corporate One, reluctantly. “Johnson will help you to load your equipment into your…” She eyed the band’s battered van, visibly out of place in the parking lot full of sleek cars. “…vehicle.”

“Great!” Sana said brightly, handing the amplifier to Corporate Two, who took it and staggered slightly. As Corporate One spoke into a walkie-talkie, Sana and Red Gregor strode quickly ahead, the rest of the band trailing behind. Arkady lengthened her steps to catch up with them so that she could hear their quiet exchange.

“…doing here? Did Campbell send you?” Sana was asking Red Gregor.

“In a manner of speaking,” Red Gregor said. “He talks about you so much, I wanted to come and hear what all the fuss was about. Love the new line-up – you guys sound completely different to when I last heard you play.”

“It’s kind of a new thing,” Sana admitted. “New as of… today. I can fill you in, it’s just a long story.”

“I can’t wait to hear it,” Red Gregor said, and Arkady remembered that she’d liked him, the couple of times that they’d met. She could see why he and Campbell were good friends. “But let’s focus on getting you out of here. I’m guessing you need an exit?”

“And fast,” Sana agreed.

“Well, fast’s your speciality,” Red Gregor said with a grin. Sana smiled back at him, and Arkady wondered if Red was basing this off stories from Campbell, or if he and Sana knew each other better than Arkady had realised. It was a strange thought to have in the middle of everything.

Sana unlocked the van and slid open the back door. While Krejjh, Jeeter and Liu loaded their items into the trunk, overseen by Corporate Two, Red Gregor pretended to help Arkady and Sana with their instruments.

“So what now?” Arkady asked Sana. “I think I can probably take Johnson.”

“Arkady, you’ve already been in one fight today,” Sana said, disapproving.

“What’s your point?”

“I have a more bloodless suggestion,” Red Gregor said. “You’ve got a few pieces of equipment left in the venue, right? I’ll go back inside with Johnson to ‘collect’ them, say we’re going to check their supervisor has given you the go-ahead, and you guys make a break for it. I’ll bring the equipment in my car and meet you at the dive bar, half a mile down the road.”

“Are you sure you’ll be able to get away? What happens when they realise we’re gone?” Sana asked.

“I’ll come up with something,” Red Gregor assured her. “Just focus on getting yourselves out of here.”

He walked over to Johnson, who was slightly bemusedly watching Jeeter and Liu (who were clearly stalling for time) rearrange pieces of the drumkit in the trunk, and took him by the arm, steering him back towards the building and talking rapidly all the while.

“As soon as they’re out of sight, everyone needs to get in the van quickly,” Sana instructed. “And hang onto something. Okay? Now!”

Krejjh slammed the trunk of the van shut and everyone piled into the back without a word of protest. Arkady jumped into the front as Sana slid into the driver’s seat, reversing out of the parking space like a shot and executing an alarming hairpin turn to get them onto the road. Liu cried out in alarm, not used to Sana’s driving, and Arkady hung grimly onto the handle on the inside of her door.

“Everyone okay back there?” Sana asked, peering into the rearview mirror.

Arkady looked back to see Jeeter and Krejjh scrambling to put on their seatbelts, each of them having thrown an arm over Liu to keep her in place. “Oops, sorry, I forgot we don’t have a seatbelt for the middle!” Sana said cheerfully as they thudded over a speedbump. Liu closed her eyes. “There’s normally only four of us.”

“It’s not far to where we’re going, right, Captain?” asked Jeeter.

“Just a half mile down the road,” said Sana. “Red Gregor’s going to meet us there with the rest of the equipment, as soon as he can get away.”

“What was he doing at the gig? Did Campbell tell him where we were?”

“I think so. He said that he wanted to come and hear us play,” Arkady said, watching buildings blur past on either side of them. “I guess it was lucky he did.”

“We would’ve figured something out,” Krejjh said confidently.

“Uh, who’s Campbell?” Liu asked, cautiously opening her eyes again.

“He’s our… manager? Kinda?” Krejjh replied. “He doesn’t tell us what to do or anything, but he has a lot of contacts, so he gets us most of our gigs.”

“Contacts in the music industry? Or contacts in like… events venues, bars and clubs?”

“Yes,” Krejjh said helpfully.

“He just has a lot of contacts,” Jeeter said with a smile. Arkady smirked at Liu’s look of consternation.

“Tonight’s gig did not come through Campbell,” said Sana, spotting the dive bar Red Gregor had specified and indicating to turn off the road. “We got it through an agency, Fowleys. I guess that’ll teach us not to go outside Campbell’s network.”

“Hey, it worked out!” Krejjh said. “We got a new drummer out of the deal.”

“Well, for tonight, at least,” Sana said, now reversing into a parking space. “I gotta say, Violet, the way you fitted in with our sound? That was amazing. Our set sounded better than I could’ve imagined.”

Liu blushed. “They were great songs,” she demurred, as the van came to a stop.

“Too bad it was wasted on IGR Corp,” Arkady remarked, undoing her seat belt as they all climbed out of the van.

They got a table in the corner of the dive bar, which was pretty full and made it easy to blend in. As Sana went to get them all drinks, Krejjh and Jeeter started up some kind of nonsensical word game. Arkady and Liu glanced at each other occasionally, but otherwise sat in awkward silence.

Finally, Arkady asked something that had been on her mind since she intervened in the confrontation between Liu and Seiders, though it had taken a back seat to more pressing concerns. “What was it you were trying to get from that computer, anyway?”

“Sorry?” Liu asked, looking away from Krejjh and Jeeter, where she’d been listening in on the game with a slightly baffled expression.

“In the CEO’s office,” Arkady clarified. “I saw you take a flash drive out of the computer. What were you trying to get?”

“Oh,” Liu said, drawing out the little drive from inside her blouse. “Yeah, I was… trying to copy some files onto it. I’m not sure how much I got, though – I had to pull it out before the transfer was complete, and I think they’re encrypted.”

“What kind of files are they?” Arkady asked, thinking that she could probably break the encryption in an afternoon. Maybe less.

Liu hesitated, and Arkady narrowed her eyes. “You’re not still trying to protect your company, are you? In case you don’t remember-”

“No, no,” Liu said quickly. “I just – I’m not sure if it would be safe to tell you. Safe for you,” she added. “Right now, you have plausible deniability if anyone questions you. You genuinely don’t know what’s on this flash drive. So maybe it would be better to keep it that way.”

Arkady was a little bit pacified by that, but still – “Considering I’ve already aided and abetted you, I think that ship has sailed,” she pointed out. “No-one is going to believe I did it without having any idea what you were up to. Which I’m fine with,” she added, as a guilt-stricken look crossed Liu’s face. “I made a choice to help you, and so did the others. But I may as well know what the stakes are.”

“Yeah, that’s… fair,” admitted Liu. Next to her, Krejjh was doing a fairly poor job of pretending not to listen in. “They’re blueprints. My company – the company – has been developing… do you know what IGR Corp does? What kind of a company it is?”

“Some kind of a tech company?” Arkady said. She vaguely remembered Sana saying something about that when they got the gig. She hadn’t really been paying attention to the details.

Liu nodded. “Smart technology – specifically, smart home technology. We produce – I mean, they produce things like smart security systems, smart doorbells, systems that can detect when someone has a medical emergency. Systems that are designed to help keep people safe.”

Arkady had to work to keep from grimacing. She wasn’t sure that being monitored by a computer 24/7 fitted everyone’s definition of ‘safety’, but maybe Liu had never had cause to doubt that the people with power had her best interests at heart. Lucky her.

“But then,” Liu went on, her voice bitter, “I found out that the latest product we were developing – the one that was supposed to make everyone’s lives so much easier, so much better – is being created as a surveillance device. To eavesdrop on people and send their data back to the company. And I know that a lot of smart devices have audio capabilities, but – this was hardwired in. Impossible to disable. And this weird, secretive new division of the company has been set up to process the data.”

“What are they gonna do with it?” Arkady asked.

“Who knows,” Liu said. “They could be collecting it for the government, but – I think it’s more likely they’re just planning to sell it on to the highest bidder.”

Arkady’s eyes narrowed, and she wished that Sana had brought the drinks already so that she’d have something to down.

“You know,” Liu said, her voice suddenly much softer. “I, uh. I still haven’t thanked you properly for, uh, well-”

“O-kay!” came Sana’s voice, loudly, as she finally arrived at their table carrying a small tray laden with glasses. “Sorry for the delay, guys, there was a heck of a crowd up at the bar. Also, the bartender was really interested in talking to me while he pulled these drinks.” She made a wry expression, her dimple deepening in one cheek. “Cheer up, ‘Kady, I’ve got your favourite-” She slid a pint glass of raspberry ale in front of Arkady.

“Thanks,” Arkady mumbled, not looking at Liu.

Red Gregor arrived not long after, having apparently evaded IGR Corp by pretending that he was going outside to look for the band, and then driving off with the equipment before anyone realised what was happening. Sana passed him a drink from the tray; no-one asked how she already knew his preferred drink order.

“So look,” said Arkady, after they’d done some small talk and toasted to a successful getaway (Sana’s idea, of course). “Not that we didn’t appreciate the save earlier – you had pretty good timing – but why’d you go to all the trouble of coming to an IGR Corp function just to hear us play? How did you even get in?”

“I know a lot of people,” Red Gregor said mysteriously, with a fluid shrug. “As for why I came – you probably don’t know this, but I’ve been getting into the music biz lately.”

Arkady tried to remember what ‘biz’ Red Gregor had been in before, and couldn’t. He was one of those people who seemed to do a bit of everything.

“That’s awesome!” said Krejjh, looking delighted. “Are you going to start a band? Or manage one?”

Red Gregor smiled. “Actually, neither. I’m starting a record label,” he said. “And I want to sign you guys to it.”

Liu choked on her drink; Jeeter said, “Wow, really?” and even Sana looked taken aback. Clearly this hadn’t been the answer she was expecting.

“Us?” she said, as if Gregor could have meant anyone else. “As in…” She gestured around the table, including Liu.

Red Gregor nodded. “Look, your new sound is like nothing I’ve ever heard from a band before,” he said. “Campbell has always spoken highly of you guys, and I really liked your originals the last time I heard you perform. But with this new line-up? I think you could become really big. If that’s something that you want, of course.”

Sana sat back in her chair, looking thoughtful, while Krejjh looked practically ready to vibrate out of theirs with excitement. “That would be a pretty big step for us,” she said. “Not that we wouldn’t love – more exposure, better opportunities-”

“Gigs in legal venues?” put in Jeeter.

“More above-the-board performances,” agreed Sana. “But we’ve only played once with this new line-up. We don’t know for sure if we can replicate that – and I mean, we’d be asking Violet to just drop everything and join us full-time-”

Red Gregor held up his hands. “Like I said, it’s completely up to you,” he said. “I’m not here to pressure you into something you’re not ready for. But don’t underestimate yourselves. I wouldn’t be offering if I didn’t have faith in you guys.”

Sana looked around the table, taking in the mixture of expressions, ranging from Krejjh’s eagerness to Liu’s uncertainty to Arkady’s… Arkady didn’t know what her face was doing. “We’ll have to put it to a vote,” she said, predictably. “And if any of you need more time to think this over-”

“I’m in!” Krejjh said instantly. “We rocked tonight! I want to keep on rocking that hard. And we should totally record an album.”

Jeeter smiled fondly. “I’m on board with anything that will let me keep playing the keytar,” he admitted. “And I thought we sounded pretty awesome, as well.”

Sana looked at Liu. “Violet, you’re the one who this would be the biggest change for,” she said. “The rest of us are already playing in a band full-time. Well, with the odd side gig,” she added, because yeah, they did not yet make enough money from performing to cover the bills. “You barely know us, and you’re not under any obligation to stick around – or to switch careers.”

Liu gave a slightly broken laugh. “Well, I don’t really think I can go back to my old one,” she said. “That option evaporated as soon as one of my colleagues pulled a gun on me. Not… sure I’ve really had time to process that yet.”

Sana nodded. “If it’s too soon-”

“But no amount of processing is going to make my situation any different,” Liu went on. “I could try to get another job in my field, but… IGR Corp is a pretty well-known company. Word’s going to get around that I’m untrustworthy, especially if they put it about that I tried to steal corporate secrets.”

“They can’t do that,” Sana said immediately. “I used to do some union work; whistleblowing is a protected activity, and it’s against the law for them to blacklist you – to make it more difficult for you to obtain future employment.”

Liu smiled slightly. “I don’t think IGR Corp are too concerned with breaking the law,” she pointed out. “I appreciate it, but… this isn’t my first experience with a hostile work environment.”

Okay, so maybe Arkady should take back her earlier thought about Liu never having had cause to distrust the people in power.

“Besides, I haven’t even blown the whistle on them yet – I’m not sure if the information I have is worth anything,” Liu said, a little grimly. “And anyway… I think it’s time for a clean slate. So, if you’ll have me… I’m in.”

Which just left Arkady. She could see how pleased Sana was that Liu was willing to join the band full-time, even though she was trying to hide it. Krejjh and Jeeter, too, were excited – and not just at the prospect of getting better gigs and earning more money (though that was a very appealing prospect).

The fact was, Red Gregor was right – they’d sounded like a completely new band during their performance. Arkady had always liked their stuff (of course she did; she’d even co-written some of it) but the new sound gave it a flair she hadn’t even realised it had been missing. As much as she couldn’t help thinking of the dozens of ways this could go wrong, she wanted them to keep sounding like that. She wanted to see what else they could do.

“‘Kady?” asked Sana.

Arkady took a deep breath. “Sure. Let’s do this.”

#TSCOSI #Podcast Big Bang 2021 #The Strange Case of Starship Iris #Vikady #Arkady Patel #Violet Liu #Brian Jeeter #Krejjh #Red Gregor #who turned into a surprisingly key character for this fic which is fun #I'm kind of inventing his personality from wholecloth but I like him #the background Sana/Campbell/Red Gregor sort of came out of nowhere and I just went with it #love me some OT3 vibes!

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