#i literally gained like four or five new names since we last talked | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

doorsclosingslowly · 3 years ago

Text

Someone, Broom in Hand

Kaz died before he turned sixteen. That’s the story. When he reappears, it’s at the side of the Dark General, wearing the thin fluttering robes of the Sun Summoner. Jesper travels to the Little Palace to punch his fucking teeth out.

Kaz[/&]Jesper | 7.5k | content note: nonlinear narrative, past and offscreen abuse

The purple kefta is too big for Kaz. Jesper doesn’t want to think about why he dumped his coat over Kaz’ head, except that Kaz looks weird and cold in his ugly fancy yellow paper taffeta shirt, his one layer that he’s wearing apart from the underpants that leave his knees bare.

That he looks uncomfortable at all should be nothing but a trick of the violent light: there are two separate lit fireplaces in the bedroom, so awkwardly placed that they were probably retrofitted by a Fabrikator. It might have been David, though then Jesper would surely have heard a treatise on the stones used to erect the Little Palace, or Gaz, or Lizaveta or any of the other Materialki Jesper’s been bunking with but—but anyway, if Kaz felt like wearing more, he could order an attendant to fetch another shirt or two. Unless there’s nothing he owns that isn’t thin and revealing and fucking yellow. Unless he’s not allowed… Unless he can’t even dress himself anymore without a gaggle of attendants. Man moves up in the world and forgets everything he knew: tale as old as time.

“Just like you forgot us,” Jesper mutters, less viciously than he should.

The Kaz-doll makes no comment. No protest. No further manipulation of Jesper’s old affections. No snide mockery for Jesper passing his kefta on to the man that less than an hour ago, he tried to kill.

He just pulls the coat on. With his odd bare fingers—no claws after all, just thin and human—he closes button after button, including the top four that Jesper’s never once used, struggling to pull the material over the bone-tines sticking out of his chest. (And who back home would believe that Dirtyhands has ordinary fingers and a totally fucked up chest?) It would be easier to leave it open, but Kaz, even now he’s a sunny lapdog, doesn’t do easy. When he drops his arms, the too-long sleeves fall down over his hands, and with his thumbs he traps the fabric there. Sad little improvised half-gloves, more than Jesper’s seen him wear in the month since he let himself get conscripted into the Little Palace. He looks back at Jesper.

There’s no Thank you—Kaz Brekker never knew that word, and it seems in the two years they had him, whatever else they forced on him the Ravkans failed to teach him any more manners—but there is something new in his glare. It’s not just the purple washing the colour off his smooth—his way too smooth face. No. It’s something old: defiant, and angry, and scheming, just barely breaking through the placid paint and the rust beneath it.

Bit by bit, as he buttons up Jesper’s kefta Kaz simultaneously pulls on the moth-bitten coat of Dirtyhands he’s kept way back in the wardrobe of his brain, the ruthless killer, Bastard of the Barrel, Dregs lieutenant and future gang boss unless he gets murdered first. And it didn’t stick the first time. Pulls it over whoever it is that he was before. Over the doll beside Kirigan.

Over that person in the corner, that cornered boy, brittle and alone and stripped of armour and weapon and self, and Jesper wants to kill every single fucker in the Little Palace.

“Back home, you had a plan for everything,” he says instead. “I’m not assuming it’s a B or even a Z or a Q squared, but I know you. I know you’ve considered it. What do we do now your beloved long-lost friend’s shown up to help you steal the Sun Summoner?”

☼

Yesterday, Kerch accepted the terms of the Ravkan crown. Ex-crown. Dark fucking empire. Whatever. Test all children and send the Grisha to the Little Palace, conscript some people into the First Army—though what they still need an army for when they have the Fold is anyone’s guess—send food, booze, and, worst of all to the fastidious greedy Kerch, pay tribute without receiving anything at all in return. It was in the mouth of every paperboy on the streets, every mercher, every gang boss. By Ghezen how could we just surrender? they moaned, and Do you want to end like West Ravka? and Didn’t you see him? Kirigan’s going to crown himself king of everything. He’s unstoppable. And that boy next to him, the Sun—

Honestly? Jesper doesn’t give a fuck anymore. He’s paying fifty kruge just to sit on Inej’s bed for an hour and braid her hair. Ketterdam can burn to the sopping wet ground for all he cares. The world can rot. Like the Dregs did. Like everything Jesper cared for.

Inej, though, watched it.

“I had to see,” she’s whispering into Jesper’s ear, barely moving her miserable red-painted lips even though his hair should block out most lines of sight already. Inej’s smart, though, and desperate: if Jesper keeps returning to the Menagerie as nothing but a smitten small-time gangster with an incredibly vanilla hair fetish, he won’t catch attention. Tante Heleen will have fewer reasons to raise Inej’s rates. Jesper can barely pay for a visit a month as it is, and even those he allows himself mostly because he’s given up the hope of ever paying off her indenture unless he wins big.

“I snuck out yesterday. I had to see. Heleen got a new girl from Ravka six months ago, and she believes, too. Had a cheap pamphlet with her, last thing she had, of the new Saint. The illustrations… they looked just like Kaz.”

“Fu—” Inej elbows him. Jesper presses his lips into the braid over her ear. “Forget about Kaz Brekker. You’re the only one who matters now. He died, and you ended up here.”

She’s trapped in the Menagerie now because Kaz disappeared into the harbour like so many orphans before him; because he didn’t tell Jesper jack shit about Inej’s situation that might have helped him keep her safe in the Dregs; because he allowed senile Haskell who knows the names of all his five hundred thousand miniature boats and literally nothing else to stay in charge of the Dregs instead of killing him as soon as possible, which allowed Haskell to let the payments for Inej’s indenture lapse, which meant three months after Kaz just disappeared from his life Jesper got back to the Slat to find that Inej, too, had gone without a trace, and it was only luck and a pervert old Dreg that Jesper soon afterwards ‘accidentally’ shoved off a roof talking about the girls at the Menagerie that meant he found her again. Found her, only to realize he can’t help her at all.

Inej pulls Jesper’s ear back to her mouth. “I saw him, Jesper. I saw Kaz. Kaz is alive. He was there. I saw him.”

“You what?!” A sharp elbow darting out of her red sad nightgown that would have slipped right in-between his ribs if it was one of the knives she still mourns, and he’s not even given anything away. Heleen’s a hell bitch, but what use would she get out of random surprise?

“I saw Kaz. He’s the Sun Summoner. I was far away but—it was Kaz, standing next to General Kirigan, holding his hand, when the Merchant’s Council signed the terms of surrender. It was Kaz. I’m certain. Sankt Kaz.”

“I—” Jesper burrows his face into Inej’s hair. “You didn’t happen to have a knife on you, did you? A really tiny one she couldn’t confiscate. A super lethal one. Might never get as good a chance again.”

“Jes—”

“Fuck him sideways with a rusty shovel. That traitor. Did you forget how you ended up here? He left us. Saw a bigger pile of cash and skedaddled, I bet. He always wanted to be king. Guess becoming the Darkling’s queen was the next-best option.”

Inej doesn’t even defend Kaz. Jesper pulls away from her so he can look at her face. She always looks sad these days, unless she has specific painful orders to perk up, but it’s deeper now. She’s not doing the gesture, not holding her hand against her chest. Faith, now, is just one more thing Kaz Brekker took from her. Jesper can’t blame her, even though he never believed. Not even when Ravka’s new ‘Sun Summoner’ started gaining them the whole continent. Power’s power, though, no matter whether the stories around it are true. If Kaz truly is the Sun Summoner, then it’s not just Kaz Brekker who sent her back to the Menagerie—but one of her Saints. Fucking asshole.

He buries Inej in his arms. It’s all he can do now, to hold her until this month’s hour is up, because it’s not like he can just murder the Ravkans special weapon in retribution, can he? Can…

“This changes nothing,” he whispers. “The only priority is still paying off your indenture. Kaz quit the Dregs. He left us, and that means he’s nothing now. Less than nothing. I have a good feeling about the Makker’s Wheel at the Emerald Palace this weekend. Lots of pigeons there for the ‘Fete of Unity with Mother Ravka’ or whatever, and the minder thinks I’m hot. It’s risky, of course, but if I do this right—”

☼

Jesper’s just about to crawl right back out from under the bed—weapons raised, since hell knows what Kaz was planning back there, and fuck Jesper for apparently still harbouring enough trust in the guy to follow his lead two years after he deserted—but then, a series of clicks and rumbles heralds the opening of the door. Footsteps, and it slides shut again.

Shit, that was close.

And Kaz wasn’t bluffing, after all. Well, well… it certainly means something that Kaz, beloved Saint and Sun Summoner and ally to the Darkling, just told his attempted murderer slash old friend and-or stooge to hide. Kaz never did anything without a motive, be it profit or power or vengeance, and even this degraded, polished version surely isn’t so far gone as to engage in ideas as base as altruism. Ergo, Kaz will want to use Jesper for—something, though what is there he wants when he’s basically a prince of—but he isn’t, is he? He’s in a cell. A cell Jesper can unlock.

Three pairs of footsteps move around the room. One of them might be Kaz, but without his limp, it’s hard to recognize him. None of them says a word, which… it probably means this is a routine visit. Whatever’s going on, they all know their role.

Two pairs stop moving, while the third one—circles around them, it sounds like, and then someone else stumbles a little and catches themselves. Jesper hopes they’ll hurry up. He’s in mortal danger, technically—Kaz can still choose to reveal the intruder inside the Sun Summoner’s private room and-orprison, but, prison. Jesper’s far more useful alive, and so, hiding under the bed is fucking boring.

There’s not even anything interesting in-between the slat frame and the mattress. It’s the only place where you could hide anything—that Jesper can think of, at least, but there’s just nothing there at all, and Kaz used to be a real magpie. It’s a gaping void, just like everything else in this room. Like everything else in this palace, a chasm painted over with gilt and power. Unless—something’s stuck to the underside of a cross brace. Jesper slides a fingernail under the edge, and it comes loose easily enough. Not exactly a cache worthy of Dirtyhands, and anyway, it’s just a… a mangled piece of paper. A paper that looks like it’s been chewed on and spat out—and an entire corner actually torn off, or bitten, maybe—and whatever used to be printed onto it mostly rubbed off except for a couple of letters here and there, RAV. Curved lines and tiny hats. What would Kaz need to hide in his room? Apart from weapons he doesn’t have. Other people’s jewellery, dito. The only thing that Jesper knows about him now is that he’s trying to open the door. Trying to leave. It’s probably a map, then.

Which means an escape is planned, and Jesper’s just providing the desperately sought means. Good. That means he should have even more leverage here.

Somebody stumbles again, this time taking two steps to catch themselves. Almost as if they’ve jerked away.

“You’re falling behind,” slimes the smooth, rich voice of the Darkling. “On second thought, our people would miss you at the celebration. I’ll inform the staff that you wish to dance, all night long.”

☼

“You’re hanging around here because you heard that General Kirigan and the Sun Summoner are due back this hour, aren’t you?” The woman in a tidemaker’s kefta that just sidled up to Jesper speaks unaccented, high class central Ravkan. Even if her dark skin is an indication of Zemeni heritage, she came to the Little Palace long before the Darkling’s recent territorial acquisitions. She’s no ally, just like the rest of the crowd that surrounds them: an old-school Grisha, veteran Second Army, not someone whose loyalties may yet be pliable. Not someone like Jesper, whose skin started crawling the moment he showed his skills to a Ravkan occupation officer so he could sneak into the Little Palace. She’s friendly, though, and looks at Jesper’s face with clear appreciation. “You must be new. Hi. I’m Nadia.”

“Jesper,” he says, throwing a flirtatious grin like a blanket over his nerves and anger. It’s almost fun, playing the suave infiltrator assassin Grisha. Except Inej’s still in the Menagerie. And Kaz is still a piece of shit. “Yeah, I just got here! They didn’t test for Grisha ability in Novyi Zem when I was little, so I barely knew who I was… but once I heard about the Darkling, about this place, I crossed the True Sea as soon as I could!”

“That must have been so hard. So lonely. This place is…” She grimaces. “This place was our sanctuary. You’re lucky you’re Materialnik.”

“Why?” It’s the first time since his arrival that anyone’s had even a neutral opinion of Durasts, let alone good, and granted, it’s not like he cares that much about the ability his Ma died from, and he’s only talked to a dozen people since arriving yesterday, but…

“Listen, I know you want to see the Sun Summoner, and don’t tell anyone I said this but…” Nadia pulls Jesper a few paces away from the crowd on the training grounds, into a corner formed by two enormous bales of hay. Well-chosen: he can barely see the crowd that just surrounded them peek out behind the yellow stalks. “You’re sweet—”

“Listen, you’re gorgeous, but we just met—although, on second—”

“No!” She laughs, but it’s bitter. “You’re cute, but no. It’s my duty, to her, to protect you. The new ones. You’re Materialnik, so you’re not combat, so you’re not going to actually meet the Sun Summoner. Ever, if you’re lucky.”

“He’s that bad?” Kaz was always a dick, if Jesper’s honest—it was part of his charm—he was just a charming magnetic one, and back with the Dregs Jesper hated his ruthlessness just as much as he admired it. He was worst to his fellow Dregs and his enemies, though: he could charm a mark when needed. So it’s a tad unexpected that Kaz earned himself the hatred of a Grisha indoctrinated from childhood to see him as her Saint and saviour. Apparently, he’s just that talented. That obnoxious.

Well, Jesper’s not complaining. That makes his plan much easier.

“He killed my best friend,” Nadia whispers urgently. “The last time I saw her they were taking a walk, and then I found her, blisters and burns all over her body. Who else? There’s a reason he’s not allowed to have weapons. I heard the Darkling doesn’t let him go anywhere alone, or he would murder us all. He killed Baghra too, I’m sure—she was our teacher, but she disappeared two years ago. Just stay away from him, alright? He looks harmless, but he’s a rabid dog. Oh. There he comes.”

Jesper barely manages to whisper, “Thank you,” before she pulls away from him and returns to her previous place. Back to the crowd of Etherealki and Corporalki on the training field, but she finds her place in the last row, standing—hiding—behind two men much taller than her.

Jesper follows into the crowd. No need to alert Kaz that the past is hot on his heels, and then—

Well. There he is.

There someoneis, anyway.

If Jesper trusted Inej just a hair’s breadth less, he’d have cursed her and sneaked back out of the Little Palace the second he sees the person holding General Kirigan’s hand. Sure, the Sun Summoner is male, with dark brown hair and dark eyes and pale skin, and just a little bit taller than Kaz was at fifteen, but that’s where the similarities end. Dirtyhands had his impeccable mercher’s suits in a grim mockery of Ketterdam’s upper class, and gloves to feed the rumours, and a cane to walk and kill. His hair managed to be at once floppy and severe; just like his gaunt face, in the right light, made him look utterly captivating and not just like an annoyed scheming rat. He looked exactly like the Bastard of the Barrel should. Not pleasant or easy, but the person Jesper once would have followed into any lion’s den.

This—this Sun Summoner, on Kirigan’s arm, is beautiful. Healthful. Pristine.

Barely even a fucking person.

It’s the face, mostly.

You could never tell what Kaz was thinking, just looking at him, because he was, after all, thinking in layers upon layers of incomprehensible schemes at all times of the day and then went to bed and dreamt about ploys and deceptions. Jesper could barely follow him the three times total he deigned to explain part of his plans. But you could always tell that Kaz was thinking. Planning, scheming, plotting his greedy bloody vicious way out of and into every possible house on every possible street.

The Sun Summoner looks empty. He’s staring straight ahead, but he’s not even doing thatwith any kind of purpose. He’s like a pet on the Darkling’s arm. He looks more airheaded than all blackout drunk heirs and heiresses in Ketterdam combined.

It’s incredibly eerie, because now he’s searching for it Jesper can sort of read Kaz Brekker back into the Sun Summoner’s face. This face is much smoother, without the marks of past firepox, plumped and rosy-tinted, but that might partially just be a testament to the quality of Ravkan cooks—or, how skint the Dregs always were. He has a normal haircut. It probably suits him better, unless your standard for beauty is Dirtyhands, and unfortunately Jesper—anyway. The Sun Summoner doesn’t have a cane, either, and he doesn’t need one, apparently, because he isn’t limping. Ravkan royal healthcare, but honestly, Kaz could have pressed a Grisha healer into service back in Ketterdam only he always insisted—well, whatever. Fuck his words of wisdom. Fuck him. Fuck Kaz. Jesper shouldn’t even be remembering that snake.

Kaz Brekker betrayed Inej, left her to rot in the Menagerie, so whatever role he’s playing right now in whatever scheme this is—because it has to be a scheme that put Kaz into the yellow robe he’s in right now, so thin it’s translucent, and sleeveless too in the Ravkan winter. The Dregs tattoo on his arm is gone. Two Inferni are flanking him and the Darkling, their hands perpetually on fire just so Kaz can parade about in a robe no Menagerie slave would go outside in, but still, it’s Kaz. It’s definitely Kaz Brekker. Jesper can see it now.

Fuck him. He traded the Dregs for this. He abandoned them to Haskell’s mismanagement and let Inej go back to the Menagerie. He betrayed them all.

(Of course, Jesper abandoned Inej now too, and without a word, but—after that last catastrophic loss in the Emerald Palace, there’s a zero percent chance the Dime Lions wouldn’t have strung him up by his own entrails—or sold him into indenture, trying to make back at least a fraction of the fifty thousand kruge he owes—so really, he had no choice. It’s the next best thing, right? If he can’t help her anymore, at least he can kill the bastard that started all their troubles.)

Kaz just walks off, hand in the Darkling’s grasp, towards the Little Palace. Carelessly following the other man’s lead.

The old Kaz would have noticed Jesper.

☼

Footsteps and then, a series of clicks and pieces of wood and metal rubbing stones. The door. Kaz’s legs, taking steps backwards to the bed in a perfect, healthy gait. The rich soft creaking of the bed as he sinks down again, and in front of Jesper—the same two muscular, pale, bare, identical hairy calves. Like the legs of a statue, or one of those de Kappels he used to like, except the right leg is trembling finely. Barely noticeable if it wasn’t right in front of Jesper’s face. Those Ravkans maybe aren’t so crafty after all.

Then: nothing.

After what feels like an hour in which Jesper doesn’t dare move, even though the Darkling must have left already, a hand drops off the edge off the mattress. Middle and index finger erect, then crooking twice in quick succession. It takes a moment to connect. Jesper hasn’t seen those signals in such a—move, path clear. Yes. That’s what it was.

Jesper wriggles out from under the bed, annoyingly free of dust. Pristine. Empty, just like everything else.

“Didn’t think the Sun Summoner needed to use our secret code, boss,” he drawls up at Kaz from the floor. Kaz, with his barren black eyes and his new porcelain doll face, picking at the wide open collar of his yellow shirt.

“Never drop a tool you can still use,” Kaz says. A beat. “Didn’t think I was your boss anymore.”

“You aren’t.” Jesper turns his head away, looking at the spotless floor and the intricately painted walls from his low vantage point. Exquisite, imposing, empty: a Saint’s cage, as beautiful and terrible as Inej’s room in the Menagerie. The bare wall hiding the inaccessible door. “That guy really fucking hates you.”

Kaz doesn’t reply. Jesper turns his head back to watch him again, even though that won’t give him anything more: Kaz used to be willfully inscrutable even back in the Barrel, but after whatever Grisha surgery they did to him, there are only traces left of the real person trapped inside him. Dollface, Jesper thinks again. Who’d have expected they’d turn fucking Dirtyhands into a dollface?

It’s Kaz who turns away, fingers clawed into his neckline. His voice is rough, even if it’s a shadow of the damaged rasp that used to be him. “I thought about it sometimes, back then. The first time.”

Every fibre of Jesper’s being wants to interrupt with, What are you talking about? I don’t speak cryptic anymore. I’m out of practice. He should get off the floor, raise his guns, resume—but whatever it is, whether it’s some stupid new Grisha power, whether it’s zowa, or his memory of Kaz is just coming back, he doesn’t—

“It was like this. I was on my bed already, usually, when it grew hard—and I thought you would be up for not being on the bed, and there wasn’t much else in my room. I imagined watching you. I didn’t touch it. That was better.”

Uh. What.

“He probably knows I threw up after we—I tried to hide it. I thought I could manipulate him into seeing me as his partner, I thought I’d healed, that I’d practiced enough—but he just saw that I was still weak. He saw he could control me. But if he didn’t do it again because I threw up, I’m—”

He was right. Jesper would have stayed on the cold hard floor back then for him. Even now, Jesper would crawl around like a worm jerking off for the fucking asshole he got himself trapped in the Little Palace to murder, if that meant Kaz never had to—

Kaz pulls the neckline of his flimsy thin single ugly yellow shirt closed. The shirt that doesn’t protect him. The shirt he didn’t choose.

☼

Jesper’s imagined the Sun Summoner’s quarters, of course. Most of the Grisha in the Little Palace are wretched gossips—or Jesper’s been charming as many people into spilling as many secrets as possible to him so he can plan his attack, same difference—and anyway, he needs a backdrop for his imagined kill shots. It’s Kaz Brekker, after all. Dirtyhands. The ex-Bastard. You’d want to rehearse that death. Think of some witty one-liners.

Nadia said it was gorgeous inside, like a dollhouse. Lizaveta, who Jesper’s been told to shadow so he can learn how to become a proper Durast, insisted it’s totally empty. Grzegorz said there were live kittens inside, so the Sun Summoner could sate his lust for innocent blood, Sayyna thought there was a giant swimming pool, and a lovely naïve boy from the edge of the permafrost up at the former border insisted it was just like the quarters of all other Grisha, except with a little more privacy. Since they’re all siblings fighting for a world that will be kind to Grisha.

Jesper, privately, imagined a few stolen paintings and a mishmash of furniture. Because he’s an idiot.

This is just like—

If it is the Sun Summoner’s bedroom at all. It should be. Jesper did his homework: he followed the Darkling and his Sun Summoner creature that wears the skin used to house Kaz, and a variety of Materialniks, to the end of this specific corridor, five times in total. Watched the Materialniks unlock a hidden mechanism, and then the two most powerful men in Ravka—in all charted countries, ruling everything this side of the True Sea but pockets of Shu Han and even that’s a matter of time—they walked inside, hand in hand. The Darkling always left, after a while, alone, and so it only made sense to assume that the hidden room that Jesper just snuck up to and unlocked is, in fact, the Sun Summoner’s room. Kaz’ room. It’s the best time for breaking into it, too. There’s going to be a party in two days, so hopefully everyone’s too busy, and even if the Sun Summoner’s out doing preparations then Jesper can just hide in here and kill him in an ambush. That’s probably easier, actually.

First, though, he locks and hides the door again, because… yeah, he went to Ravka expecting to get caught. At some point. This is a suicide mission for revenge, after all—suicide is in in the title. But it’s no fun if he gets caught before the gory glorious revenge part. Before Kaz admits he was a piece of shit. Both guns cocked and ready, he turns around, and actually inspects the room he broke into.

No. Nothing changes, even when he blinks and blinks again. That wasn’t a faulty first impression.

The room still looks like a fucking prison cell.

A fancy, clean cell, but a cell nonetheless. It’s empty except for the bed, and Jesper owes Lizaveta more money than he has on him (though to be fair, technically, Jesper’s fifty thousand kruge in debt anyway, so does it really make a difference at all if he’s a few Ravkan coins more in the red), and even the windows—Jesper’s had enough training now that he can look at the windows and see the subtly reinforcing mesh inside the glass. No curtains. No curtain rods. Nothing—there’s a subtle mesh inside the bedclothes too and the frame of the bed looks far too sturdy to be torn apart by anyone who isn’t a skilled Materialnik. There are meshes in front of the fireplaces.

Nothing in here that can be used as a weapon.

Not against others, and not against oneself.

No escape.

There’s nothing in this stark white massive room but a person, acting like he never did before and still looking more like himself than when he was walking through the training grounds. It’s probably the distance from other people. He’s got his back to Jesper and he’s in the furthest corner from the door, which should be a tactical misstep because he can’t escape from there but really—it’s as good as any other location, in this room. There’s nothing of use to anyone left, not even to someone as shrewd as Dirtyhands used to be before he lobotomized himself into the Sun Summoner. Or before he was—

Kaz pushes himself up from his kneeling position using the walls he faces. He mutters, “I beg your forgiveness for keeping you waiting, Aleks.” His voice sounds odd.

“Are you crying?”

“Jesper?!”

Kaz turns so quickly he has to brace himself against the wall again lest he fall over. His translucent shirt ripples. His dark eyes in his weird new too-handsome face trace over Jesper, again and again. If they were fingers, Jesper would feel like he’s being caressed. No, that’s the wrong thought. A thought from a book he won’t admit he’s read. Jesper’s got his guns out. He came here for a reason. A bloody, glorious reason.

“Inej wouldn’t want me to do this, but she’s locked up in the fucking Menagerie,” he announces, just to see whether Kaz can feel even a shred of guilt. “Just so you could be a Ravkan prince in ugly yellow lingerie.”

“Just follow my—”

No, then. Or maybe it’s just the new face Jesper can’t read. Not that it matters. “Shut up. Do you remember what you told me when I joined the Dregs? About what you’d do to traitors? Well, I have added a couple of my own ideas.”

“Shut up, Jesper. You can monologue when we’re done, but—”

Jesper aims right between his weird, smooth pebble eyes. “When you left us, you knew it would all go to shit. Inej’s in the Menagerie, and there’s no way to get her out again. Haskell let the Dregs collapse after you disappeared. No Dregs, no kru—”

Kaz flinches. “Quick. Get under the bed. Now.”

Whether it’s surprise, a sex instinct, or—far worse—a lingering sense of loyalty, Jesper obeys instantly.

☼

“We’re lost,” Jesper moans. They’ve been surrounded by trees for four days. He’s not even sure they’re trudging vaguely southwards anymore. Everything looks the same. What wouldn’t Jesper give to be back in Ketterdam already, with its lovely street names and pedestrians and garish landmarks (and gangsters about to string him up), or at least somewhere in Novyi Zem where he sort of understands the landscape. Or what’s left of Shu Han, so Kaz can unclench.

“We’re not lost,” Kaz rasps. “Keep going.”

“How do you—the map.” The half-chewed-up map hidden under Kaz’ bed, the map he snuck into his coat—Jesper’s kefta, whatever—even though he probably already knows it by heart.

“Yes. The map.”

“Why the fuck are you telling me to choose where we’re going if you’re memorized the map?!” What an asshole. Jesper just clean forgot what a piece of shit Kaz is. He forgot it so utterly he’s helping him break out of Ravka, without even extracting anything in return. He’s a fucking idiot. “Is it so you can blame me when we get caught?”

Kaz, the dick, rolls his eyes. “Wouldn’t I rather not get caught at all? Think, Jesper—what’s the one advantage you have over me?”

“I’m prettier,” Jesper shoots back. “My winning personality. I have a better tolerance for hard liquor. Fashion sense. I’m funny. No, wait—I’m a much more generous lover.”

“He doesn’t know you,” Kaz hisses, making the pronoun sound even more slimy than the guy it’s referring to, which is honestly quite a feat. “Do you think this is my first attempt? He’ll send people to every single route out of his core territory that poses any advantages. He has enough soldiers for that. What he doesn’t have, though, is enough soldiers to watch every route your bird-brain might pick at random.”

And then, he stalks ahead viciously. No. Limps ahead.

It’s been growing much more pronounced over the days. At first, even without a cane he walked just like any person with two healthy legs, and that’s what Jesper expected. The Ravkans healed their Saint’s leg, didn’t they? That’s what they would do. Only Kaz can think around enough corners to make his bad leg into an advantage. But with every passing day, Kaz’ gait has grown closer to what Jesper remembers from back before the world went to shit. Kaz was touchy about accommodations back then, though, or people being nice in general, so Jesper hasn’t even brought up improvising a new cane. All he’s dared to do is slowing down his own steps to what he remembers would have matched Kaz, back then.

And insisting on taking breaks. Like he does now.

“It’s almost night, you refuse to make light despite being made of sunshine, and I’m hungry,” he complains.

“I’d assume that Ketterdam has made you soft,” Kaz rasps, “o cherished crown jewel of crime and commerce, and what’s the difference.” He limps back to the fallen tree that Jesper has chosen as their camp site, though, so he must be a just few steps short of utter collapse.

Jesper unwraps the two woollen blankets he’s been carrying on his shoulders. They didn’t get a chance to steal much, mostly because Kaz was a prick about it and didn’t even let Jesper go back to his room: apparently there was time for Kaz to fold up a paper bag into a facsimile of an envelope and write an address in Djerholm onto it and have Jesper talk a stable-hand into riding out to deliver it, right now, but no time to search anywhere else for supplies. They took just whatever they found in the stables, which amounted to extra coats, some boots, the blankets, and horse feed. And gloves. Kaz declared it was time to run as soon as he’d found gloves.

Balefully, Jesper chews on his oats. Even wrapped in his blanket, the night is cold, and Kaz—who’s still wearing nothing but underpants besides the robe/gloves/Jesper’s kefta/stolen coat combo and ill-fitting boots without socks—is shivering violently.

“We should steal you some real clothes from the next house we see,” Jesper mutters. “And some decent food.”

“We’re not stealing anything until we’re in Shu.”

They’ve had this argument before. Jesper shouldn’t be as thrilled about that as he is. There’s no way to resolve it, until they find the border—or until Kaz keels over from hypothermia, because then even his rational fear of detection won’t keep Jesper from finding some trousers. For the time being, though—

“I’m going to sit closer and steal your body heat. In exchange, you can wrap my blanket around your legs.”

Kaz glares. He can do it masterfully again: just like the limp snuck back as soon as he left the Little Palace, his face over the days grew thin and pockmarked. Vicious. Jesper’s commited it to memory, in case Oily, Tall and Dark steals it again.

“If you freeze to death tonight, this was all for nothing. I could be sleeping in a palace right now. Well, a dingy side house, with the other Materialniks, but joke’s on them. This whole escape would have been much more complicated if I’d been a Squaller. Or a Sun Summoner, who refuses to even use his power to warm us up.”

“Leave it.” Kaz runs a finger roughly over where his collarbone should be, and he shudders. The temperature, or something worse, some new pain he’s not revealing—but carefully, he leans his blanketed side against Jesper, and allows Jesper to throw his own blanket over him, too.

“I’ll make you a new cane tomorrow. With a head, too, if we can scavenge enough metal from the buttons. Not a crow. You haven’t earned that until we free Inej, but maybe… a worm.”

“That’s just a stick,” Kaz mutters. “Go to sleep.”

Easy for him to say: Kaz is taking the first watch, and so he’s not balancing on a fallen log in the cold without a blanket, trying to fall asleep sitting up while leaning against Kaz’ shoulder with as little contact surface as physically possible. After some hours or minutes, though, Jesper’s suffering is too much for even Kaz to handle. Who knew there was a limit! Who knew Kaz had heard of mercy! Maybe he just doesn’t like Jesper wriggling next to him. He fists a lock of Jesper’s curls and pulls his head down into his lap.

“I didn’t help you because I want to fuck you, just so you’re aware,” Jesper jokes, because this is actually—it’s actually almost comfortable curling up on the fallen tree with his head on the blanket on Kaz’ thighs, even though there’s the remnants of a branch digging into his hip and they’re on the run from all Grisha in the world and also the new, expanded Ravka that covers nearly every country on this continent and Inej’s still imprisoned and if they actually manage to get back to Ketterdam, Jesper’s going to be in so much shit. And still, it’s… “I mourned you, you know, when Haskell told me you’d died. I wasn’t just angry because the Dregs were a shambles without you.”

Kaz is quiet. Jesper sort of wishes he’d touch his hair again, or his shoulder—and he never seemed to have any trouble touching the Darkling, so what, is Jesper not good enough—but he also looked like a void back there, like in order to endure it maybe he had to smother—

“That’s not why I mentioned that fantasy back there,” says Kaz, lyingly. Sure. He just happened to invoke Jesper’s obvious past crush for no reason whatsoever. The awfully convenient infatuation Jesper didn’t have sense nor skill to hide back then. Kaz is exactly the kind of person who’d exploit someone’s first love. The person who’s realize, long before Jesper did, that maybe, he’s not actually completely over—but maybe that wasn’t the important bit then. It went on. And that story about the Darkling—

“You thought I’d help you out of pity?” Jesper would have done, if he hadn’t been so angry—if he hadn’t been already so freaked out by the placid expression, the clothes that looked expressly designed to torture the Kaz he knew, the cell… It wasn’t pity. What is it you feel when a person you knew—maybe not his secrets or his past or his thoughts or what trouble he just dragged you into because he’s a secretive dick, but still, you knew him, it was burned into your heart, his movements and the codes he taught you and just when a heist was about to trigger one of his fears he’d never mentioned and you needed to get him out now… What do you feel, when that person comes back from the dead, and comes back wrong. Like a stag with too many tongues inside its mouths and its hands locked behind its throat. Except the other way round, because Kaz Brekker was terrifying, and what he was made into or what pretended to be was only scary because it wasn’t. Anyway. Kaz is a manipulative commandeering asshole again, so it doesn’t matter. “You despise pity.”

“It’s a tool, just like everything else. One he couldn’t take. And pride just gave me—pity got me out of the Little Palace, didn’t it?”

“Something did.” Jesper tips his non-existent hat, and Kaz slaps the top of his head to make him stop wriggling. He keeps the hand there this time, knotted tight in Jesper’s hair. It stings, but it’s also… Jesper closes his eyes and tries to fall asleep before inevitably, it’ll leave.

“Pride. It was my fault.” Kaz’ voice almost sounds the way it did back home. Harsh, vicious—and damaged. Human. “I thought I could bear it. He was—the Sun Summoner could have no weaknesses, he said, nothing for our enemies to use, and I allowed myself to think… ‘our’ enemies. I practiced. It was easier, after a while, to bear touch. I thought—it seemed like the best option, to stand at his side, and to make him see me as his partner I should… I was tired of being a prisoner. I thought I could use him.”

That’s bad enough, but… “But you’re limping again,” Jesper hisses. “If he’s forming you like a clay doll to make you his perfect Sun Summoner, he should have started with healing you.”

“They did, when I first came to the Palace. I didn’t want—but I learned to accept it. After my first escape, he broke it again, personally. Had it tailored over, afterwards, every few days. Incentive for cooperation.”

There’s nothing Jesper can do to fix this stagnant, lifeless voice. He could hug Inej, at least, but this—

“It’s what I would have done, too. He was just better than me, and he didn’t need another one, so he had to change me.”

“By dressing you up and making you look like a doll. If you tell me it was a sex thing, at least I could—no, still couldn’t relate. His taste’s shit. That beauty was pretty ugly,” Jesper mutters into Kaz’ thighs.

Kaz pulls at his hair again—probably a rebuke, but the sting travels down Jesper’s spine to—well, it’s time to change the subject rather quickly. What’s there to… oh yeah, his head’s on a blanket. That’ll do. “I just had a great idea,” he says, and—yeah, his voice is still completely normal and steady. A little loud, maybe. Kaz hasn’t moved his hand away, though, so it can’t be too obvious.

“Don’t hurt yourself.”

“Fuck off, my bright idea of breaking into the centre of Grishadom to kill you in a murder-suicide attack because what else was I going to do, let the Dime Lions grind me between millstones to press out the fifty thousand kruge I may perhaps still owe them—”

“You what?!”

Jesper powers on, because that’s really a conversation best left for when he’s not lying in a forest with his head in Kaz’ lap and trying to forget, desperately, the way it felt when Kaz pulled his hair. The way it feels when he does it again. “I’m just saying, it saved you. You’re welcome. So anyway. We only have one pair of trousers. I was going to suggest we alternate wearing mine, but we both know I wouldn’t get them back.”

“Your so-called idea is… interesting,” Kaz mutters, voice almost pulled asunder trying for both disturbed and mocking. “But I’m far more interested to hear about the fact you skipped out of Ketterdam without paying your debts. A crime punishable by death in every gang. Every gang in Ketterdam, the city where you want us to go.”

And yeah, that’s occurred to Jesper, but… “That’s a problem for later. You’ll think of something, boss, if we make it that far. You always have a plan. For now… I wouldn’t—well, I would carry you if your legs freeze off, but it wouldn’t be fun for either of us, so… You sewed yourself up constantly back home, and I’d wager sewing is just like swimming. Once you know, you can never forget.”

“Skills are useless if you lack every materia—Jes—”

“Yeah, I definitely can turn a button into a needle now. We just need to tear the second blanket into some vaguely trouser-shaped pieces, and for thread—well, we could just tear up your Sun Summoner robe, it’s useless anyway.”

“Jesper,” Kaz rasps again.

“I’m a genius?”

“No, you’re still an idiot. Why not, though?”

☼

Kaz Brekker disappeared between Sunday and Tuesday night. That’s all Jesper knows, and it’s that precise only because Kaz has been experimenting with the payroll recently. Apparently, handing out wages on late Tuesday maximizes the chances of flushing as much money as possible back into the coffers of Dregs-owned establishments, and he’s also taken to handing out the money personally. Some weird power play that Haskell hasn’t yet forbidden: everyone knows Kaz barely bothers to keep his accomplices informed about the job they’re currently doing, and the big boss tolerates him mostly because Dirtyhands is still more useful insubordinate than dead.

It’s Wednesday now, though. Wednesday afternoon.

And Jesper still hasn’t gotten paid.

Kaz is gone.

Jesper’s in Haskell’s office, inquiring about everyone’s money. Too irritated by the games of Makker’s Wheel he was forced to miss out on last night to perform anything but the most pro forma I remember my boss’ boss is technically my boss and can kill me pleasantries. Instead of promising to kick Kaz’ ass, though, like Jesper hoped, Haskell just tells him Pasko will give him his wages tomorrow.

Haskell won’t say anything else. Just, “That boy got himself mixed up in something he couldn’t handle alone, and it fucked him. You won’t like what you find, when you go looking for the dead.”

#jesper fahey #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #kaz x jesper #I'm free! well sort of I have an idea for a coda in which jesper roleplays the darkling so.......#dimtraces makes things #shadow & bone #shadow and bone

14 notes · View notes

mexcraziness-art · 4 years ago

Photo

Monkie Kid/JTTW OC: Xie Pingheng

Okay, so this bio is going to be pretty messy, mostly because I’m really tired these days, but also because I’m still reading Journey to the West, and still waiting on the new seasons of the show. So I can’t go into details too deeply until I find out more, this is more of a general outline of what I have in mind for her so far!

Also note: Her human disguises and personality is vastly different from her real one, there will be a whole separate reference and bio for that!

Name: Xie Pingheng (谐平衡),Chi Kaoma Hou (赤尻馬猴) Nickname: Mandy Gender: Female

Xie Pingheng, also known as the Red Bottomed Horse Monkey/Mandrill or just „Mandy”, much like Wukong, she’s one of the Four Spiritual Monkeys, see the one and only mention in Journey to the West: „The second kind is the red−rumped mandril that knows all about the Yin and the Yang and human affairs, can go into or out of anywhere, and knows how to prolong its life and avoid death.”

History:

Pingheng is the oldest out of the Spiritual Monkeys, she was born sometime during Phase II of the World, she was born from the separation of Heaven and Earth itself, representing the perfect balance of positives and negatives.

She basically grew up alongside the world coming into existence as we know it, so she soon understood the nature of existence itself, how positives and negatives make up everything in the world. Throughout her life she travelled the world, sometimes hiding, but usually disguising herself as a human. She learnt from many great and wise immortal masters, and soon mastered yin and yang herself, and gained complete immortality. She spent the next few hundred years moving between humans and celestials, she was interested in the comings and goings of her fellow celestials as much as she was in human affairs. During his time, she saw the damage rampaging demons and whimsy celestials can cause for the world. She soon grew resentful of her fellow mystical beings, and spent more and more of her time living amongst humans. She even considered completely abandoning her fellow celestials and just living as a human in disguise for the rest of eternity.

Around this time she heard of the Great Monkey King, Sun Wukong had been imprisoned under a mountain by the Buddha himself after wreaking havoc in Heaven. She was intrigued by the existence of a fellow monkey celestial, but she decided to stay away. She didn’t want to be involved with such a troublesome celestial, much less one of her kind. However a few hundred years later, she stumbled upon him completely by accident while she was traveling by the Five Elements Mountain.

She took pity on him and stopped to talk to him for a while, out of curiosity if anything, they talked for a while and she almost pitied him enough to try to let him out from under the Mountain. Right until Wukong started ranting about how he’s going to take revenge against Heaven, which lead her to realise he’s no better than the other prideful and arrogant celestials and left him under the Mountain. She spent the next few hundred years living alone in a cave up in a random mountain, trying to figure out what she wants to do with herself. Until one day, a very-almost-dead Macaque literally dropped on her doorstep, who barely managed to get away after Wukong bashed his skull in with his staff after he tried to replace him on the Journey. Pingheng realised she couldn’t just let him die on her doorstep, took him in and healed him as much as she could, however even she couldn’t save his right eye. She almost felt bad for him when he woke up dazed and confused a couple of days later, however, her sympathy also quickly evaporated when he went off about how he’s going to kill Wukong the next time he sees him. She quickly realised this is going to get out of hand really fast, so she kicked him out, not wanting to be caught in the crossfire to come. After that, she moved close to the human village, but didn’t mingle with them too often, still unsure of her place. However (are you seeing the pattern here?) relatively soon after the Macaque incident, Xingti showed up on her doorstep, claiming the Jade Emperor himself invited Pingheng to join their celestial ranks in Heaven. Pingheng was distressed how did Heaven even find out about her existence, as she made sure to stay low and stay out of their sight as far as she could remember, to which Xingti revealed Wukong told them about a Mandrill, who’s just like him. Also, seeing the other monkey’s distress over the situation, Xingti became more forceful, trying to get her to come with her to Heaven, which lead to Tiengeng losing her temper, threatening Xingti and Heaven in furious rage if they don’t leave her alone, she’s going to erease they ever even existed.

Having had enough of demons, celestials and their constant meddling, Pingheng decided to permanently live with the humans, in a human disguise for the rest of eternity. She didn’t want to be associated with anyone troublesome, and SPECIALLY not with Heaven and the other 3 Spiritual Monkeys. That’s how she spent the next 600 years living amongst the humans, avoiding anyone who could inconvenience her in any way or form.

(The following is mostly relevant to the 4+1 Monkeys AU and the show)

Pingheng moved to Wan Qian Cheng sometime after Wukong sealed away DBK and lived there ever since. In the last 500 years she became a bit of a fan of humanity. Their technological and social inventions fascinated her beyond belief, especially combined with the fact, that at the end of the day, they’re just feeble mortals. In the past 500 years she made a bit of a hobby to learn and study everything humanity had to offer, which she’s still doing to this day. However, she also became very selfish during this time. Despite living amongst humans, she never worked for anything, she either ”convinced” humans to give her whatever she wanted, or just flat out stole what she needed. Also, as much as she likes humans and likes living amongst them, they also bore her very easily with their everyday troubles, so she only likes to interact with them when it’s convenient for HER.

She met MK, when the city was under attack by some demons (as always) and she got accidentally caught in the crossfire and MK saved her life. Or what actually happened, against her better judgement she got involved in celestial affairs for the first time in over 600 years, because she got curious about this human who seemed to have Sun Wukong’s powers, she got close to the conflict and let MK „save” her, just so she could see him for herself. After that she quickly grew a soft spot for him. She would never admit it to herself, but as much as she adored humans, she missed the company of other celestials, just a little. And MK was the perfect combination of both. A not-so-feeble human with the fun of celestials, without actually having the baggage of REAL celestials. Later she also became interested (read: grew concerned) about his training with the Monkey King and eventually got him to introduce her to Wukong. Thankfully Wukong didn’t see through her for quite a while, however, after she got revealed to be a fellow Spiritual Monkey, Pingheng, conflict soon blew up between them. Pingheng believed Wukong is a bad influence on MK, and Wukong accused Pingheng of only viewing MK as a special pet. In the end MK got her to try to mend her selfish ways, which resulted in her starting to work at Pigsy’s Noodles as a delivery girl.

Personality:

Fundamentally Pingheng is a curious and caring person. She likes helping others, and learning new things and skills. However, as she saw the world change around her, all the problems, hardships, and suffering, she became more and more closed off and selfish. She prefers to stay in her own little bubble and only interact with others when it’s convenient for her. She likes to go her own way and do things her own way. She wholeheartedly despises celestials, because for they basically have unimaginable powers all they still do is hurt eachother and others. Humans are nothing more than a passionate fascination for her. She loves them, loves their determination, and creativity, and she’s in awe of how they shaped the world around them, but at the end of the day she has a rather condescending opinion of them. How they’re only just feeble mortals, desperately trying to make their mark on the world before they inevitably die and start over. However, beneath all the selfishness and condescending arrogance, she still has kindness in her, and after meeting MK she doubts her selfish way of life more and more, as she does genuinely enjoy human connections and helping others.

Powers and Abilities: She has all the standard abilities of a Spiritual Monkey and Immortal, including: -Immortality (She’s constantly renewing her essence with her yin and yang magic, basically constantly prolonging her life, she can choose to stop doing this anytime and die if she wants to) -Super strength and super speed -Chi manipulation -Cloud Generation -Flight

Other Abilities: -Shapeshifting (much like Wukong, she can’t change her tail) -Clones (She creates them from her own essence, they’re all just as really her as she is) -She has full understanding of yin and yang, this makes her magic incredibly powerful, granting her the ability to control the essence of existence itself -Manipulation: She can „charmspeak” people and other celestials, she just has to use a certain tone to ask for something and they’ll give/tell her whatever she wants

Weapon: Her staff is her main weapon, besides her magic. There isn’t really anything special about it, it’s just a regular wooden staff. She uses it to channel her magic and uses chi enhanced attacks with it.

Relationships:

Sun Wukong: They mutually can’t stand each other with Wukong. Pingheng views him as a selfish, prideful, dangerous asshole, whose arrogance only got worse after he completed the Journey to the West and became a legendary hero. She generally prefers to stay as far away from him as possible. Her distaste for him only grows stronger when she becomes friends with MK, fearing Wukong is a bad influence on MK. However, after some self-reflection and understanding Wukong’s past better, she grows to understand him a little better. She’s still generally annoyed with him, but she doesn’t outright hate him anymore.

MK: She’s probably in the Top 3 members of the MK Fanclub. Initially she was only curious about him, a human with celestial powers, but after meeting him she quickly grew super fond of him and he became one of her favourite people even faster. However, her fondness for him initially was more along the lines of having a special pet, than actually liking him for who he is. For a long time she only viewed him as a human with more extras, he’s not a REAL celestial. Which hurt MK a lot when he found out that she thought of him like that. Unfortunately, by that time Pingheng had genuielly grown to like MK as a person, his snark, his creativity, his kindness, so she actually felt guilty for having hurt him that way. After that she decided to try to be better and be less self-interested and try to open up to other people, so she can be a better friend for MK. Macaque: Her relationship with Macaque is… complicated. Being opposites, both of them being born from the opposing primordial forces, she feels a familiar connection with him. She feels sympathy for him, for the life he had, but she also resents him for the choices he made, being on a bit of a high horse. Probably the clearest emotion she has towards him is pity. She also prefers to stay at a distance from him, but for reasons completely different compared to Wukong. She would never admit it, but deep down she fears if she ever looked at him too closely, if she got to know him better, she’d see a part of her reflect back from him, and she doesn’t want to think about that. However later, after Macaque’s redemption, they’ll actually bond quite a bit, and generally be on the same wavelength specially concerning familiar relationships. They’ll mostly bond over their trouble connecting with others, letting others close to them and forming relationships.

Liang Xingti: Much like Wukong, initially Pingheng didn’t have a good opinion of Xingti. For the longest time she saw her as any other arrogant, busy-body heavenly warrior, not knowing how to mind her own business. She was just Heaven’s lap dog in her eyes, who would mindlessly serve Heaven until her last breath. She just generally looked down on her for serving Heaven. However, after Xingti and Wukong captured Macaque and the 4 Monkeys started working together she had been pleasantly surprised. She found out Xingti actually has a personality outside of serving Heaven, and she’s actually a fun person to be around. She still views the human world the freshness and awe Pingheng had almost forgotten, has a raw sense of humor and is genuinely kind. They quickly became really close friends, and confidentials of eachother.

Pigsy/Tang/Sandy: When she agreed to work at the noodle shop, she didn’t think „Pigsy” would be the same Pigsy who went on the Journey with Wukong over 500 years ago. This pissed her off to put it lightly, she just agreed to open to and mingle with people more, she didn’t expect to be thrown in the deep end with the three celestials she wanted to meet the least. This threw them for a pretty rocky start, with Pingheng being generally hostile and borderline rude with everyone, however, with time, and Sandy’s eternal patience she realised they have a lot more in common with her than she initially realised. This is pretty much what I have in mind so far, I'm sure I left out a lot, I'll add them later when I remember them! And hopefully I'll draw a ref of my other OC, Mandy, the 4th Spiritual Monkey soon as well!

Art by @mexcraziness-art

Xie Pingheng belongs to @mexcraziness-art

Monkie Kig belongs to Lego

#Monkie Kid #Monkie Kid OC #Monkie Kid AU #4+1 Monkeys AU #Xie Pingheng

106 notes · View notes

lovelylogans · 3 years ago

Text

honey, you’re familiar (like my mirror)

see other chapters, notes, and warnings here!

chapter four: symbiosis

symbiosis: interaction between two different organisms living in close physical association, typically to the advantage of both.

VIRGIL

“Uh,” Virgil says, scrambling in the face of his mother—hair wrapped for the night, blinking the sleep out of her eyes, her arms crossed, “My—myself?”

Technically true, he guesses, according to some of the sensate’s personal beliefs about the connections they share with their clusters, according to Logan according to Dot. Like having other selves scattered across the world.

Andisiwe frowns. “At this time of night?”

Virgil shrugs weakly.

She frowns deeper. Then:

“You know,” she says, looking at him very intently, “your grandmother used to talk to herself at all times of day, too.”

Virgil stays silent. His mother crouches to sit with him on the floor, settling with a long sigh.

“About anything at all,” she continues. “She’d talk about the snow when this country hadn’t seen snow for ten years. She’d laugh when no one told a joke, cried when nothing sad had happened. She’d make recipes I’d never heard of before. You remember her pitha?”

Virgil nods, confused. Of course he remembers her pitha. They’d have it at every large family gathering.

“That’s an Indian dessert. She’d never left South Africa in all her life, but she knew how to make pitha and speak Tamil like she was born in Bangalore. Just like you were speaking a language other than Xhosa or English just now.”

Oh, Virgil thinks, then, oh.

“So unless you started taking language lessons while studying for your doctorate,” she says, staring at him.

Virgil chews at the inside of his cheek.

“No,” he says hoarsely. “No, I didn’t.”

She nods, accepting this. “How long…?”

“I don’t know,” Virgil admits. “A week and a half? Two weeks?”

“Not long at all,” she murmurs. “ I suppose it might skip a generation. She told me once it started when she was a child. A horrible headache struck her, and once it let up she had seven new friends all around the world. When they were all ten, maybe.”

Ten, Virgil thinks, mind whirling. God, to deal with all this at the age of ten?

“Sensates,” Virgil croaks. “We’re called sensates.”

His mother offers him a smile.

“I know,” she says. “Tell me about them.”

“One’s here,” Virgil says, and he looks at the big, tall, tattooed man. “I don’t think I got your name last time.”

The man walks from his plush apartment rug to sit on the hardwood floor.

“Patton Taumata,” he says with Virgil’s mouth, offering a bright smile to Virgil’s mother, sitting beside him. “Māori, New Zealander.”

And then Virgil feels what Patton does next—pull seems too strong a word, but it’s the closest he has.

Sitting across from him, looking vaguely disgruntled to find himself on the ground, yet still sitting at his desk in his home office.

“Janus Slange,” he says. “London.”

He slides out of Virgil’s body to find a spot to sit that’s a bit more refined.

Patton turns his head, and Virgil turns his gaze to follow.

“Roman Regio,” the actor says, looking up from his script to gesture beside him. “And my brother, Remus. Who is currently on his way to Mexico City, which he should have done as soon as he got accused.”

“This is such a dumb plan,” Remus groans, resting his head simultaneously against the bus window and Virgil’s bed. “I want all of you batshit hallucinations to know that I don’t come up with plans this stupid. My plans are refined in the way they cause utter chaos.”

Sitting in his bed in the barracks and beside Virgil, so close their thighs almost touch, giving Virgil a thrill that shoots all the way to his fingertips—

“Logan Zieliński,” he says to Virgil’s mother, careful to sound respectful. “I was just here. I’m Polish, but I’m currently studying in Antarctica. Space research.”

They’re here. All of them here. But Virgil sees Patton reach again—

EMILE

—and Emile beams at the sight before him. Patton turns to grin at him.

“Well done!” Emile says, filled to bursting with pride.

Patton! Reliably being able to pull them all in to visit together! That kind of skill—coupled with the fact that Patton, back in his apartment in Auckland, is peaceably planning lessons with a sitcom in the background—can take other sensates months of practice to truly achieve.

“Is this your mother?” He asks Virgil.

Virgil says, “Um, Mom, my—cluster parent?”

Emile makes an eh handwavey gesture followed by a thumbs-up. “Whatever you’re comfortable with, I’m comfortable with!”

“—is here right now. His name’s—”

He speaks at the same time as Emile does.

“Dr. Emile Picani, hi there—!”

“—and he’s American.”

Virgil’s mother’s brow wrinkles in distaste, but she does a good show of trying to hide it.

“That’s fair,” Emile says. “Americans are—well, y’know. You’ve seen the news.”

“This is my mother, Dr. Andisiwe Nkosi. My grandmother was a sensate too, apparently.”

“Oh, that’s lovely!” Emile exclaims. “There are sensates within biological families, of course—” he gestures to Roman and Remus, “—but things are still up in the air about if and how being homo sensorium passes down.”

“Dot said the number of sensates is rising due to epigenetic factors,” Logan says.

“Oh, you’ve met Dot!” Emile says delightedly.

“She answered many of the questions I have,” Logan says, and for a blip, they’re all sitting in the barracks in Antarctica as Logan reaches for a notebook and pen. “But I still have many questions.”

“Entirely understandable,” Emile says.

“Wait, you got your questions answered?” Roman demands, and they’re all sitting on Roman’s apartment’s massive balcony overlooking Mexico City. “I just got this one—” he points accusingly at Janus, “telling me hey, surprise, you’re not actually losing your shit!”

Janus shrugs, and they’re all surrounded by monitors, blinking with so many different points of data it makes Emile a little dizzy. “He just showed up in the mirror while I was shaving.”

“Well,” Emile says, and they’re all in Emile’s apartment at home. Emile puts a kettle on the stove. “I’m here now. So what questions can I help you answer? Or, at least, activate the Archipelago to get some kind of answer for you. If you can think of some kind of subject, there’s probably a sensate that knows something about it, but I suppose we should probably start with the sensate-specific questions.”

Remus puts up a hand and asks, loudly, “Can I use the psychic connection with other sensates to have some kind of insane worldwide orgy?”

ROMAN

Sasha is out for a key art photoshoot, so Roman has the whole apartment to himself. Which is good, because he got a bit busy last night with the whole explanation of what exactly it is that’s been happening to him, and then yelling in disgust when Remus asked gross questions about it.

Roman’s considering if he wants to paint his nails—it’s not like he can keep it, if solely for movie continuity—just to have something to do with his hands when the door cracks open.

And in steps Remus—absolutely filthy, staring at Roman incredulously, a fake mustache plastered above his real mustache that he immediately rips off.

“It worked,” Roman says gleefully. “It worked!”

“First of all, cops ain’t shit, I probably should have expected literally every police officer to sleep on the job when seeing someone suspicious board a bus, but Jesus fuckin’ Christ, your security munches ass,” Remus declares, “They let a murderer get into your apartment.”

Roman bursts out laughing.

“It’s not funny!” Remus says, pulling off the fake beard he’d donned. “It took five pesos of stolen fake beard and mustache to fool everyone, are you fucking kidding me—?!”

Roman slides off the couch, gripping his stomach, he’s laughing so hard.

“What?!” Remus demands, throwing off the overly large trench coat he’d been huddling under.

“You,” Roman wheezes, then, “you said the plan was stupid and it wouldn’t work—!”

“It is stupid! I come up with way better plans than this, you’re telling me that you came up with the stupid kid movie plan and I didn’t?! And it shouldn’t have worked—Roman, stop laughing, your fangirls are fucking batshit crazy, could you imagine what kind of weird Wattpad shit they’d get up to if they knew how easy it was to break in here?!”

Roman is screaming with laughter, because literally all they needed was a fake mustache and beard, and ooh Roman can tell that Remus is pissed that Roman came up with this plan first because it’s such a perfectly Remus plan. He isn’t sure how much of it is a sensate thing versus a twin brother thing, but all the same, Roman knows that Remus is absolutely fuming, which makes it even funnier.

Remus storms off, shouting, “Just for this, I’m going to use up all your fancy shampoo! I’m going to take the biggest, nastiest shit in your bathroom! I’m—I’m going to eat all your soap! I will! I’ll do it! I’m eating all your soap!”

LOGAN

It’s still a little startling to look over at his notebook and suddenly find himself in South Africa, but he’s gotten a little more accustomed to it since the night before. He’s been feeling a pull to South Africa all day, like an ache deep in his chest. He isn’t entirely sure why.

Virgil glances over at him and smiles, just a little. Logan smiles back. Virgil clears his throat and returns his attention to the textbook before him.

“Roman’s plan worked,” he says.

Logan huffs, shaking his head. Honestly. It’s like those American movies when three children stack on top of each other and wear a large trenchcoat and a fake beard to gain access to the movies, but it actually worked.

In retrospect, Logan’s sure that Remus would have foregone his escape into the wilderness if he’d known that donning a disguise and having his rich brother pay away the arrest troubles and their psychically connected lawyer argue before the court would have worked so neatly.

However, considering that nearly every aspect of that plan is absolutely off the rails ridiculous, the escape into the wilderness must have seemed like a prudent measure to take at the time.

“How’s your research?” Logan asks, sitting down on Virgil’s bed.

“Pretty good,” Virgil says, his tone very casual. “I think the fact that abrus precatorius—”

“The scientific name for rosary peas,” Logan assumes. He is rewarded by a nod from Virgil.

“—isn’t native to Mexico and the fact that Remus hasn’t traveled for years on end is a pretty good basis for Janus to go on. Plus, abrin—”

“The toxin?” Logan clarifies and receives a nod.

“—is incredibly toxic, to the point where anyone ordering rosary peas would probably get pinged under some kind of monitoring system. So there wouldn’t really be a way for Remus himself to get them. Miguel Contreras, on the other hand—”

“The murder victim?” Logan says, startled.

“Yes—on the other hand, he went to Florida very recently. He got back three days before his death, in fact.”

“I thought they were native to Asia and Australia?”

“Yeah, they are, but rosary peas are an invasive species, and they’ve been clocked in the pine rocklands there,” Virgil says. “Symptoms usually occur pretty quick, but it can take up to five days to show up, depending on the method of ingestion. And considering the seed of just one pea could be fatal…”

“Then the cause of death could very well be found in Florida!” Logan says. “And the only thing they have on Remus—”

“—Are threats, exactly,” Virgil says enthusiastically. “And considering the way Remus is as a person, Janus could probably get those hand-waved away as being under jest, rather than an actual threat to kill him.”

They smile at each other again, Virgil’s lips twisting wryly.

“I’ve been wanting to visit you all day,” he says abruptly, and Logan feels that flutter in his stomach again, the one he’s been feeling since they first met; he’s willing to admit to himself that it most certainly isn’t unease, now. It is a near antonym of unease.

“I have too,” Logan admits, trying his very best to keep his voice informal.

Virgil’s smile softens, a little. “Yeah?”

“Yes,” Logan affirms, and the flutter in his stomach intensifies.

They stare at each other. Virgil’s eyes, Logan notices abruptly, are objectively beautiful. Framed by long lashes, his eyes are so dark a shade of brown they’re practically black, so easy to stare at, admiring the way a sudden shift in the lighting would illuminate the subtle honeyed depths of them.

For a moment, Logan gets a flicker; he’s looking at his own eyes, blue and framed by his glasses, but the emotion in him doesn’t change, the fleeting thought of look how gorgeous, and suddenly he is back to looking at Virgil, and, as one, they look away.

Virgil coughs awkwardly. “This sensate thing—weird, huh?”

For the first time, Logan wonders if the feeling in his stomach is not entirely his own. If it is something shared.

But, Logan thinks, sneaking a look at Virgil taking notes, twirling his pen idly over the backs of his long fingers, he supposes that neither of them would be able to tell that, anyways.

REMUS

Remus is bouncing his leg so much that the cop near him is giving him a disdainful look.

Or maybe the look is because the cop thinks he’s a murderer. Whatever.

“Are you sure this is gonna work,” Remus mutters out of the corner of his mouth because he hasn’t gotten the hang of visiting someone in his cluster and going about day-to-day life like a normal person, the way more experienced sensates can.

“Positive,” Janus says. He’s sitting crossed-legged beside Remus in his holding cell, where they’re waiting to be transported to the courtroom. Remus is pretty sure most lawyers shouldn’t turn up to court in pajamas, but considering that to the rest of the courtroom Remus is going to play at being his own lawyer, it’s all fine.

“All they have on you is proximity and threats,” Janus continues. “And considering the voice in your novels, along with the parts in your dust jackets’ where you literally threaten your readers, I can get that set aside no problem.”

Remus inhales heavily and exhales just as noisily.

“Right,” he says. “Right.”

Roman flickers into sight just long enough to shoot Remus a thumbs up, and as Janus resumes spitting legal jargon, Remus feels his shoulders relax.

PATTON

“Be careful with our bezzie Buzzy Bee!” Patton says brightly. He’s crouched before Sophie, having helped untangle the string. “Let’s make sure we don’t tangle him up again, eh?”

“I will, Mr. T!” Sophie shouts, already on the run with the toy, and Patton huffs ruefully. It’ll probably be tangled up again by the end of the day.

A brief chill across his skin, and Patton shivers before he refocuses on the sunny afternoon, here, in Auckland.

By the time he’s stood upright, Logan’s beside him, in a white lab coat.

“Do you really need that much air conditioning down there?” Patton says. “Seems a bit overkill, mate.”

Logan shrugs, closing a door, hiding away some kind of equipment that looks very finicky and complex. “I’m not the one in charge of the facility.”

“Fair enough,” Patton says. “I’m pretty sure I’ll be asked to join in on some kind of game, soon. You like rugby?”

“It’s not exactly popular in Poland.”

“Hm. Guess not,” Patton says. “Probably should’ve known that already.”

“The whole sharing knowledge aspect of this does seem to be rather dependent on a variety of factors,” Logan says thoughtfully. “I don’t think I automatically know the minutiae of New Zealand history and culture just because you might; I think we have to be doing something to trigger that sharing of knowledge.”

Patton huhs thoughtfully.

“If you didn’t know how to drive a car, for instance,” Logan theorizes, “and I did, and you sat behind a wheel and needed to drive somewhere, I would probably be able to impart that knowledge to you.”

“I can ask Emile,” Patton says, ready to turn and look in on Florida, but he’s stopped by Logan’s frustrated, “how do you do that?”

“Hm?” Patton says, turning to look at him.

“This seems to come so effortlessly to you,” Logan says. “You drop in and seem totally at ease, you could control if we all came to see Virgil a couple nights ago, and by the reactions of those around you, you don’t seem to be talking to thin air—”

“Well, we’re mostly, surrounded by five-year-olds, they wouldn’t be too phased by the concept of me having an imaginary friend,” Patton points out. Logan doesn’t seem particularly amused by this.

“I don’t know,” Patton admits. “Emile thought I was just very communicative, for a sensate. That might be it; I’ve always been pretty chatty. It also might be because Māori have beliefs about how we are all connected—people, nature, all living things—so maybe I was a little more prepared to accept that I was literally connected to other people because I grew up with that as a sacred ideal.”

They watch children run and play for a few minutes; Manaia, diving to catch a football in the game of rugby that had assembled; Sophie, racing between everyone with her Buzzy Bee clack-clack-clacking behind her; Oliver, shyly joining in on a game of hopscotch.

The grass sways in the light breeze, the sun had peeked out from behind its clouds, leaving the entire playground awash in light and warmth. The laughter of children carries on the wind. Patton’s coworkers occasionally look up from their tiny charges to smile and wish him a good day.

“It’s really rather nice here,” Logan says quietly. “I’ve never been remotely near this continent. Coming to research in Antarctica is the most travel I’ve ever really done.”

“Do you miss home?” Patton asks.

Logan considers this.

“Some things,” he says. “Kluski, makowiec, honey mead. Newspapers written in my native language. The coffee shop I studied in throughout all of university. Proper herbata góralska. My mentors. The ability to go to a grocery store. My mother.”

There’s a beat of silence.

“But I love the research I do here,” Logan says firmly. “It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to be able to study down here.”

“It sure seems like it,” Patton says, his admiration clear in his voice.

“This whole situation threw a bit of a wrench in the works,” he says.

“I think it did for all of us,” Patton says. “Not all bad, though. Remus would probably still be on the run if he hadn’t connected with Janus.”

“No,” Logan muses, a soft flush touching his cheeks. “Certainly not all bad.”

Unbidden, images flash in his mind; black coffee, an expanse of wide sunny road, the sensation of dirt under his fingernails, purple jacaranda blossoms.

Patton tries his hardest not to grin. But—

“What,” Logan says defensively.

“Nothing,” Patton says, not hiding his smile, and Logan huffs irritably.

“You know,” Patton says, “Emile’s been dating someone in-cluster for, like, nine years? They were the first people that they saw, of the people in-cluster. In-cluster relationships are apparently pretty common, which I guess makes sense. Sharing feelings, knowledge, everything—it sure can bond two people together.”

Logan’s flush deepens.

“Just sayin’,” Patton offers cheerfully, and he goes off to join a game of hopscotch, leaving Logan with his thoughts.

JANUS

The language is different. The procedure is different. The situation is, most definitely, different.

He’s used to English, English law, English crimes. He’s been a barrister for years, jumping from one firm to another because the latter had seen partner potential in him; it paid much better, too, which certainly hadn’t been a negative. Janus had become a well-polished lawyer, a viper in the courtroom, a boomslang to his rivals.

He’s good at it, is his point. He’s always been good at it.

He stands, surveying the judge. A different uniform, but a similar dime-a-dozen judge. He’s seen this type dozens of times. He could debate them in his sleep.

But as he looks to the side—Remus sitting, Roman beside him, the rest of the cluster in a line past them, just peeks of their profiles past the twins—he remembers why he started to study law, too.

Because he wanted to be able to get himself and his brother out of any and every sticky situation they could ever stumble into.

Janus stands when he is bid to. He takes the oath, Remus’s mother language tripping off his tongue like it’s his own. It is now, Janus supposes.

Roman reaches over and grips Remus’s hand. Remus pinches Roman as hard as he possibly can, but Roman doesn’t flinch.

Janus begins smoothly, “Your honor, ladies and gentlemen of the court...”

#my fic #my fanfic

9 notes · View notes

lonelyreputation · 4 years ago

Text

Different (part five)

A/N: Here we are! The last part! Ahhh!! Can’t believe we made it this far!! Thank you to everyone who has read! All together, Different is 64 pages long which is just insane 🤯 Thanks a MILLION to everyone for EVERYTHING!! I couldn’t do this without you all 🤧 What a wild ride this has been🤧🤧

So……Happy reading 🤩🥳 And let me know your thoughts 😉

REQUEST/PROMPT: Unrequited Love

Part ONE | Part TWO | Part THREE | Part FOUR

Let’s Chat!! | MASTERLIST

Warnings: Few swear words

WC: 7.3K // fluff & slightly angst

*Flashback to 2017*

Shawn still had the studio headphones on, and his eyes were still closed as if he was still trying to get in the right mindset to record this song, but he knew everyone was silent. After what they all just heard, he knew no one would speak a word until he said something.

But after that song…What could he say?

He squinted one eye open, bracing for the worst, but he saw that everyone looked quite satisfied with themselves, “Uh,” Shawn coughed as he spoke into the microphone, “Do I need to cut it again? Re-record the bridge? Do another set of–––”

“It’s perfect, Shawn,” Andrew smiled at him as he clicked his phone off and slid it in his back pocket, “I’m going on a coffee run, anyone want anything?”

And just like that, four out of the five people in the room jumped up, offering to help with the order. Not even three seconds later, Andrew wrangled everyone out the door, and Shawn was left in the studio with Brian.

With a heavy sigh, he took off his headphones and hung them on the microphone stand. Whatever conversation he was about to have with Brian, he knew there was no way he could avoid it. Begrudgingly, he walked out from the sound booth and plopped down next to him. He rested his elbows on his knees where he buried his face into the palm of his hands.

“So…” Brian drummed his fingers on his lap, “Are we gonna talk about that song?”

“Talk about what?” Shawn grumbled into his hands even though he knew exactly what Brian was referring to.

Brian let out a short laugh, “Seriously? We’re not going to talk about how that song just screams Y/n?”

Shawn snapped his head up and looked at Biran, “It’s not––”

Brian cut him off with a glare, “Don’t play that game,” he then softened his eyes and spoke in a less accusatory tone, “Staring across the room and laughing? Saying how there’s nobody like her? Waiting for when she’s ready?” Brian gave his friend a pointed look, “This is a song about a best friend. This is a song about––”

“So what if it’s about her?” Shawn dramatically threw his arms up in the air and leaned his head back against the couch, not wanting to look his best friend in the eye, “It doesn’t matter because she doesn’t see me like that.”

“She literally looks at you like you personally hang the stars in the sky,” Brian said with a matter-of-fact tone, “How do you not see it?”

Shawn scoffed, “She has eyes for that guy in her quantitative whatever math class.”

“She’s literally only talked about him once,” Brian scoffed back at his friend, “But she’s always talking about you, always looking at you, always wanting to be around you.”

Lifting his head up from the back of the couch, Shawn looked at his friend with tired eyes, “I just needed to write the song to get it out of my system.”

“You don’t mean that,” Brain let out a sigh, because while neither you nor Shawn had confided your mutual feelings for one another with him, he knew the two of you had feelings for one another, “Trust me when I say that she likes you.”

“I more than like her,” Shawn blurted out before his mind could comprehend what he was actually saying. His eyes grew wide, but Brian’s eyes sparkled with hope, “No––I didn’t mean it like that––I don’t know if I like her like that anymore––She’s just––”

Brian shook his head, finishing off Shawn’s sentence for him, “Different?”

Shawn slowly nodded his head, resting his chin on his hands. You weren’t different in a bad way, his mind spoke to himself, but different in a way that he had trouble wrapping his head around what he wanted. He cherished your friendship like no one else, you were closer to him than any other friend he had, and he loved you so much.

You were different in that sense––That he loved you more than any of his other friends…And the love he had for you was different than a friendship.

“Yeah,” Shawn said with a distant voice, “Different.”

///

Present Day

It had been one month since you last saw Shawn weaving through the crowd of Brian’s party to leave. One month. But in that one month, you realized just how much you missed him. You thought day and night about what it would be like to be friends with him again––if it would be worth it. And it was when you stumbled across a photo booth strip of the two of you at his New Year’s Eve party when the ache in your heart grew to be too much.

So in that one month…You gained the courage to send him a text.

Right after you had your falling out nearly a year ago, you deleted all of your messages with Shawn, not wanting to be tempted to go back and read anything from him. You didn’t want to be reminded of how nice he was and crawl right back to him––You wanted to forget that he ever existed.

So it was a bit weird when you pulled up a new message, typed in his contact name, and no previous messages showed up.

With anxiety bubbling up in the depths of your stomach, you held your breath as you typed out your message.

Hey, Shawn, I think this is still your number––

Backspace.

Hi, Shawn, it’s me…Y/n––

Backspace.

Shawn! Hi! It’s Y/n, I hope you’re doing well––

Backspace.

Why was composing a text to your ex-best friend harder than anything else you’ve ever done? It was just a text message. A text message to a person who you once saw you sneeze chocolate milk out of your nose because he did something so outrageous it made you laugh.

But it felt different.

It’s not different, the rational part of your mind spoke up, he’s still your best friend even though the two of you haven’t talked in nearly a year––you know he misses you, he made that clear at Brian’s party.

Oh, but it is different––the irrational portion of your mind shouted over your other thoughts––you confessed to loving him, he said he didn’t feel anything for you, you haven’t talked in nearly a year, and he ran out after he saw you kiss that boy.

You exhaled the breath you’d been holding in, and decided to just bite the bullet and send out the first message you typed.

Hey, Shawn. It’s Y/n! I was wondering if you were free on Saturday to go on a walk?

You hit send before any part of your brain could convince you otherwise. And right when the blue text bubble popped up on your screen, you felt your heart plummet into the anxiety that was at the bottom of your stomach.

What if he changed his number?

But it was a thought you didn’t have to dwell over for long because your phone chimed with a text message from the person on the other end.

Y/n! Hi…I’m glad to hear from you! I’m free all day Saturday so I can do whatever works for you x

A smile instantly spread across your face as you rapidly texted back a time and the location of the park you now walked at. And just as instantly as you texted him, he texted you right back that the time and place worked perfectly for him.

Little did you know that Shawn canceled all of his previous plans for Saturday just for your walk.

///

“I could’ve bought my own coffee,” You took a sip of the drink that your hand was wrapped around for warmth, “Thank you, but I could’ve done it.”

Shawn tipped his head back slightly in laughter, “Next time don’t go to the bathroom when I’m ordering,” He turned his head to look at you with a smile, “And it also helped that you haven’t changed your order.”

You looked down at your coffee cup, feeling all tingly on the inside just like you felt around him before everything blew up in your face. But you tried your hardest to push those feelings aside. You were planning on being friends with him; on a walk to rekindle your friendship.

“I’m buying next time,” you lifted your head up and smiled at him.

His eyes twinkled bright, “I’ll hold you to it––And then I’ll buy the time after that.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to hide your growing smile, as Shawn just confirmed he wanted to continue on going on walks, “And I’ll buy after that.”

Shawn faced his head forward, and from the corner of your eye, you saw that he was also trying to conceal his growing smile, “I think we have a good thing going.”

You nodded your head as the wind picked up a little, causing you to scrunch up your nose, “Seems like it.”

For the next nine minutes, the two of you walked in silence. In the beginning, it was a little uncomfortable, but the more you continued down the winding path, the silence wasn’t too bad. It almost felt like the old times where you didn’t feel the need to fill the silence––you were fine appreciating his presence more than any conversation.

It was a deep sigh from Shawn that broke the silence, “I…” He took a deep breath in through his nose, and then released it out through his mouth, “I owe you a real apology.”

You weakly smiled down at your sneakers, “I appreciate that, but I don’t want to talk about that day––”

“Y/n,” Shawn stopped in the middle of the pathway. Reluctantly, you stopped with him and looked into his remorseful eyes, “I was a dick––Like an absolute asshole to you––I have no reasoning for it other than I didn’t know how to respond to you and even that,” He kept his eyes trained on you, “Is a shitty excuse.”

A sharp pain in your chest was weighing down the happiness you first felt when you saw Shawn waiting for you at the entrance to the park. Because while you did think you deserved an apology, you didn’t want to be taken back to that day ever again.

“Thanks,” You nodded, “Can we get back to our walk?”

He held your gaze for a moment, waiting for you to say something else, but you kept your ground. With a soft sigh, he nodded his head and the two of you continued to walk in silence.

Five minutes passed before Shawn let out another sigh.

“You’re really not going to say anything?” His tone was full of defeat, he was expecting some sort of reaction from you, but you kept silent as he fell slightly behind. He jogged up back to his place next to you, “I literally said that you ruined our friendship. Said that you ruined tour––when you weren’t even there! And I got mad when you brought your boyfriend around––”

“So you were jealous?”

“That’s beside the point,” Shawn rolled his eyes, “The point is that you should be yelling at me, calling me every swear word in the dictionary, and maybe not even want to be this walk with me––”

“I was the one who texted you,” you stopped walking and Shawn instantly stopped his movements, “Why would I ask to hang out if all I was going to do was yell at you?”

Shawn let out a single breathy laugh, “Because I was a dick?”

You rolled your eyes, “Okay, fine,” you let out an aggravated breath, “I considered you the shittiest person ever, I cried for months, I thought I did ruin our friendship, I never expected to talk to you ever again” you looked up at him with sad eyes to see that his eyes mirrored yours, “And it hurt like hell. But we’re passed that––I’m passed that––and I want to try to be friends again.”

Shawn nodded his head solemnly, “I’m sorry,” you glared at him, “I know you said you didn’t want to hear it, but Y/n, I feel so terrible and I should probably be apologizing for the rest of my life because I actually felt––” It seemed as though his mind caught up to what he was saying and he cut himself off, “I’m sorry. I just want you back in my life.”

You let him fidget with his fingers in silence for a few seconds, “Again, thank you for the apology, I appreciate it, but please,” your voice cracked, “I really don’t want to talk about it any longer.”

Shawn nodded his head firmly, “I––Yes––Okay.”

“Okay,” you took a sip of your coffee, “Can we get back to our walk?”

Shawn tried his best to cover up his guilt with a smile as he checked his hip against yours, “Let’s get walking.”

///

“This is the third time in a row you’ve bought the coffee,” you glared at Shawn, who had a proud smile on his face, as you took a sip of your coffee, “I’ve only bought coffee for us once.”

Shawn tsked, “Should get here before me then.”

“I don’t know what time you show up!”

“Exactly,” he winked, “Which is the fun of it.”

You playfully rolled your eyes at him, “Come on, what time do you get here then?” He shook his head as he took a sip of his coffee, “Please tell me? Why won’t you tell me? Can we just agree on a time so then I could stand a chance to beat you at the coffee shop?”

Shawn took another sip of his coffee, this time with a smile on his face, but he still left your questions unanswered.

“Fine,” you said with a huff, “I’ll just get here two hours early.”

“You’d have to get here earlier than that.”

You choked on your coffee, covering your mouth with your hand so you wouldn’t spit it out, “Excuse me?”

“Kidding,” Shawn unconvincingly said with a weak laugh, “Kidding.”

Skeptically, you nodded your head, “So, what’s going on in the life of Shawn Mendes?”

He shrugged his shoulders, “Nothing much…Recording new music, responding to Andrew’s texts telling me to check my email, sleeping…” He sneaked a glance at you as he sipped his coffee, “Going on walks.”

“No girls?”

This time, Shawn was the one who choked on his coffee as he leaned forward and spat out the hot liquid.

“What?”

You pulled a napkin from your back pocket and handed it to him, “Just a question, I thought that…” Your words trailed off as you watched Shawn wipe the napkin across his chin, “Friends ask each other that kind of stuff?”

Your voice grew higher in pitch with every word, not feeling confident at all. On one hand, you wanted to be back in the role of the supportive best friend. But on the other hand…It would absolutely kill you to know if there was a girl in his life.

Because while you wanted your previous status as resident best friend back…You still coveted the spot of being his significant other.

“I mean yeah they do,” Shawn coughed and quickly shook his head, “But no…No girls.”

A chill––that you knew wasn’t from the cool spring breeze––caused you to shiver, “No Miranda?”

“That’s––How do––” you gave him a pointed look and his eyes widened in understanding.

The bathroom incident.

He said there were no girls, but the fact that he wasn’t outright denying anything with her caused your teeth to clench. It was a name that spun around your head like a revolving door.

Recently, she wasn’t taking up space in your mind, but when everything happened with Shawn all those months ago…She was the only thing you could think of.

While you were big on not judging people you haven’t met before, there was not a bone in your body that didn’t loathe her.

Again, he coughed, “No, I haven’t seen her in…” He squinted one of his eyes shut as he looked up at the sun trying to break through the clouds, “God, it’s been months––Nearly a year?”

Nearly a year.

He hasn’t seen her since the two of you had a falling out.

A triumphant smile took over your face that you tried to hide by taking a sip of your coffee, “Well, if there’s anyone…” He looked at you with raised eyebrows, mouth slightly parted, as if he couldn’t believe the words coming out of your mouth, “I want to be the first to know.”

“How’re things with Charlie?”

It was your turn to look at him with shock written all over your face. Charlie was the last person you expected Shawn to bring up.

You cleared your throat, “Uh, actually…We stopped seeing each other.”

“Really?”

You nodded, eyes trained straight ahead at the trees that were slowly starting to grow their leaves back, “Yeah. About a month and a half ago,” you shrugged, “He’s nice and all but it’s just…It wasn’t going to work out.”

“Are you okay?”

When you looked over at him, you saw that his eyebrows were furrowed and his eyes were filled with genuine concern, “I––I think?” You took a sip of your coffee, “It was nice while it lasted but I––It was mutual––” lie, “––We both thought we’d be better off as friends.”

Shawn slowly nodded his head, concern still prevalent on his face, “Break ups suck and if you ever need anyone…” he offered you a small smile, “I’ll be around.”

“Thanks, Shawn,” You smiled at him, squinting your eyes slightly from the sun,, as it finally shined brightly through the clouds, “I really appreciate that.”

“Of course,” Shawn said with a smile on his face as he went to take a sip of his coffee.

From your peripheral vision, you noticed that he took a sip of his coffee to hide the smile on his face. It was the same smile you tried to hide from him when you found out there weren’t any girls present in his life.

Maybe you did just as terrible of a job at hiding your smile from him.

///

This time, when you rode up the elevator to Brian’s apartment for one of his infamous parties, you were alone.

There was no Charlie. There was no Shawn. And…You were okay with that.

You stepped off the elevator with a smile on your face and let yourself into Brian’s apartment when you got to his door. And just like every other time you walked into Brian’s apartment, he was downing whatever drink he had in a red solo cup.

“Y/n!” He yelled out your name with a smile as he came barreling into you, “I’ve missed you!”

You smiled into the hug, giving him a quick squeeze before he released you, “I’ve missed you too,” you said with a chuckle as Brian took hold of your wrist to drag you into the kitchen.

“You need a drink,” he dropped your wrist as he went rummaging around the fridge. He pulled out a can of coke and twisted his head back to you, “Vodka coke?”

“Sure,” you said as you leaned your back against the counter.

Brian opened the can with a psssh noise following as he poured the can into a red cup, “So,” he crushed the can when all the soda was out, “We haven’t been on any walks lately.”

You stiffened, “Um––Yeah––I––We should get back to that.”

“Mhm,” Brian hummed as he kept his eyes trained on the vodka he poured into your glass, and admittedly, it looked like a little too much for your liking, “Have you still been going on walks?”

“What do you mean?” You asked as you crossed your arms over your chest.

Brian stifled a laugh, “No need to get defensive,” he passed you your drink as you took a whiff of it, smelling the strong scent of vodka, “Have you replaced me on our walks?”

You took a big sip of the toxic drink Brian made for you to get out of answering. But he stood there in front of you, patiently waiting for your answer with a smirk on his face.

Setting the drink down on the counter, you coughed into the crook of your elbow to clear out the leftover sting of vodka on your throat, “I mean, I wouldn’t say replaced––”

Brian mirrored your position; leaning against the fridge with his arms crossed over his chest, staring at you with a knowing glint in his eyes, “Don’t even try and hide it.”

You let your shoulders drop as your eyes went down to look at your shoes, “Did Shawn tell you?”

“No.” His voice was smug. You whipped your head up with wide eyes to look at him, “It’s just obvious.”

“Obvious?”

Brian nodded his head, “Both of you seem happier…” he offered you a smile, “And if you were still upset with him, you would’ve asked if he was coming tonight so you could avoid him.”

“That’s not––”

His pointed look cut you off because there had been a few occasions where you purposefully avoided Shawn before you decided to reconnect with him.

You let out a huff, “Fine, okay, we’re friends again.”

“Friends?” Brian raised his eyebrows, “Have you talked about––”

You swiped your cup up from the counter and took two big sips, scrunching your nose up in distaste, “He apologized, I was appreciative that he apologized, we’re moving on.”

“You still like him.”

You had just brought the red cup away from your lips, hand freezing in the air, as Bian’s words echoed in your mind.

You still like him.

Did you still like him? On your walks with him you were beginning to feel that familiar warmth whenever he brushed up against you. You were starting to feel like you couldn’t stop smiling around him again. And you were beginning to feel the giddiness, nervousness, and butterflies in your stomach again.

You told Shawn your feelings, the irrational part of your brain piped up, if anything were to happen it already would’ve happened––He doesn’t like you like that, he made that clear.

But, the rational portion of your brain reasoned, things aren’t the same as they were a year ago. Both you and Shawn have changed, you’re not the same people, things change…Feelings change.

“We’re just going on walks,” you took a tiny sip of your drink.

Brian hummed, “So you wouldn’t freak out if I said he just walked through the door?”

“What?!”

You whipped your head around to the front door, eyes searching through the few people who congregated near the front door, but you didn’t see the familiar mop of brown curls. You searched harder for him, but still didn’t see him.

You narrowed your eyes at Brian, “Fuck you.”

Brian laughed with a shrug of his shoulders, “He’s been here for nearly an hour.”

You brought the cup up to your lips to take a sip as you rolled your eyes, “Sure.”

“Don’t trust me?”

“When have I ever?”

Brian brought his fingers up to his lips and whistled loud, “Shawn!”

And like a dog being called by their owner, Shawn emerged from the crowd, heading straight into the kitchen with a confused stare…Until his eyes brightened up when they landed on you. You spat what little alcohol you had in your mouth back into the cup and glared at Brian.

“You should trust me more often.”

The way he said it, with a hint of glee in his eyes, was almost as if he was alluding to previous events.

You brushed him off and set your red solo cup on the counter as Shawn made his way to where you stood with Brian. The three of you stood in a triangle in silence.

Shawn slipped his hands in his front pockets and rocked back on his heels, “Y/n, hi,” he finally said after a few beats of silence, “Is he bothering you?” He jerked his head over to Brian with a laugh.

You chuckled, “Always.”

“Y/n was just telling me about your walks,” Brian gave Shawn a pointed stare. Shawn’s eyes widened as he looked toward you, silently asking if you told him, but you shook your head. “Seems as though I’ve been replaced by you.”

You cleared your throat, “I think I saw Olivia when I walked in,” you set your cup down on the counter, abandoning the alcohol, “Haven’t seen her in a bit…” Your eyes darted between Shawn and Brian, “I think I’m gonna say hi.”

With a deep breath, you scooched past Shawn as he placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, momentarily stopping you from walking around him, “We’ll catch up later?”

While you wanted nothing more than to make up for the lost time, being around him––alone––still made you nervous. But you nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips, “Sure.”

You didn’t see Olivia when you walked in. You had no idea if she was even here. But one thing you did know was that if you were going to ‘catch up’ with Shawn…You needed a breather before.

And that’s how you ended up in Brian’s room––again––with your head in your hands, wondering to yourself if you were starting to like Shawn again.

But deep down, you knew that your feelings for him never went away.

///

“So, Shawn,” Brian said as he watched you walk off down the hall to his bedroom, he smiled, “What’s going on?”

Shawn shrugged his shoulders as he tried to push Brian away from the fridge, wanting to grab a beer before he knew exactly what topic he was going to bring up.

Brain didn’t budge, “I need you sober for this conversation.”

“It’s not like I’ve been under the influence the countless other times we’ve had this conversation,” Shawn took up your previous place at the counter and leaned against it, crossing his arms, “I don’t see why I can’t have a drink.”

Brian raised his eyebrows and gestured his hands toward the path you walked away from them, “Don’t you see? This is your chance.”

Shawn shook his head, as he picked up the drink that you left on the counter. He took one sniff of it and pulled his head back, nose scrunched up in disgust, “God, what was she drinking?”

“I made it,” Brian proudly smiled.

“Disgusting,” Shawn said right before he took a sip. He instantly regretted it when he felt more alcohol hit the back of his throat rather than coke, “Were you trying to give her alcohol poisoning?”

Brian shrugged his shoulders, “She drank it––But stop going off topic,” he glared at Shawn because he knew exactly how his friend tried to deflect attention, “She still likes you.”

Shawn scoffed, “After how I treated her? I’m surprised she’s giving me the time of day.”

“And that’s why she still likes you,” Brian tried to emphasize his point, “If she didn’t like you anymore she would’ve deleted your number, never wanted to see you again––let alone go on walks with you––She texted you first!”

“So?” Shawn let out a deep sigh as he rubbed the toe of his boot on the floor, “I missed my chance. She said she loved me for years––years,” Shawn said in a pained voice, “That means we both liked each other at the same time at one point and we didn’t do anything about it.”

“You both like each other now,” Brian said softly, “Forget the past––” he was cut off after Shawn glared at him, “Okay, maybe not forget the past, because you were an asshole and need to learn from your mistakes––but,” Shawn glared at Brian again, “Trust me when I say she still likes you.”

Shawn picked up the forgotten cup and threw his head back to finish off the rest of the horrible mixed drink. He let out a little ah as he felt the burn in his throat, “She won’t talk about it with me. We’re not at that stage yet––”

“Your friends,” Brian rolled his eyes as he lifted himself off from the fridge, “I get it.” He patted Shawn’s shoulder, “Also, Olivia’s not here tonight.”

With that information, Shawn’s ears perked up and he tilted his head at Brian. But he just patted his shoulder one more time before walking to the living area.

If Olivia wasn’t at the party…Then she wasn’t out there mingling with everyone else, Shawn thought to himself. And it was then that he realized what Brian was trying to tell him without explicitly saying anything; that you were alone, most likely in Biran’s room, waiting for him to come talk to you.

At least he hoped you were waiting for him, Shawn thought to himself as he said a Hail Mary, and walked down the hall to Brian’s room.

///

Like the last time you were at Brian’s place for a party, you found yourself in his room trying to clear your head. Why did he feel the need to put all those doubts in your head? You were finally coming to peace with just being friends with Shawn. But with everything Biran was trying to insinuate…It only muddled your thoughts more.

And like the last time you were in Brian’s room, you saw a sliver of light come from the door opening. But this time you knew who walked through the door.

Slowly, you lifted your head up from your hands and offered him a shy smile, “Hey.”

Shawn returned your smile, “Thought you were catching up with Olivia?”

Your smile wavered as you tried to come up with an excuse, “I––Uh––It wasn’t her, just someone who looked like her.”

He nodded his head as he stood in front of you, rocking back and forth from heel to toe, “Can I sit?”

All it took was a slight nod of your head and Shawn took a few long strides until he sat next to you. His legs were spread apart, one of his knees occasionally touching yours, as he hunched over a bit. His forearms rested on his thighs and his folded hands dangled between his legs, “So…”

You stayed silent.

“I––The weather was nice today?”

You were a little confused with his small talk––especially how his sentence tapered off into the form of a question. But you nodded your head, not knowing where he was going with it, “Yeah…Little chilly for spring, but it was…Okay.”

More silence.

The ringing in your ears was getting relentless and you were starting to feel uncomfortably hot sitting anxiously next to Shawn. Whenever he deeply exhaled out of his nose, you heard it loud and clear, and it sounded as if he was trying to calm down while simultaneously motivate himself.

You go on walks with him, you thought to yourself, you shouldn’t be this nervous to be alone in a room with him.

But you were more than nervous. You felt the anxiety in your stomach grow more with each passing second of silence, you heard voices in your mind taunting you about your failed attempt at sharing your feelings with him, and you had a sinking feeling in your stomach that was warning you that something was about to happen.

Not wanting to stick around for whatever your gut was saying, you pressed your hands on your thighs, standing up from the edge of Brian’s bed, “I should probably go––”

Shawn’s hand shot out to your wrist, somewhat firm to keep you in place, but also loose enough that if you wanted to, you could walk away from him.

“So you––uh––You used to go on walks with Brian?” Shawn blurted out the first thing that came to his mind. It seemed as though he would say anything to make you stay.

Slowly, you nodded your head and sat back down when you felt him tug your wrist, “We ran into each other and it just sorta…Happened.”

Shawn hummed, “And then you stopped?”

“I started going on walks with you.”

A brief smile came across Shawn’s face as he peaked up at you, “I like going on walks with you.”

You gulped, you heard the undertone of the message loud and clear, but you weren’t sure if you were ready to re-hash everything, “I’ve been in Brian’s room for too long––”

“Maybe don’t leave…” He placed his hand on top of yours this time. Slowly, he flipped your hand around, palm facing up, as he slotted your fingers together, “Not just yet.”

Having Shawn hold your hand like this––like more than a best friend––was something you wished whenever you saw a shooting star. Unlike all the other times you held hands with him when you were just friends, it was always just a loose hold, and your fingers were never intertwined.

But now, he was holding your hand intentionally. With his fingers tangled with yours, it felt like he wanted to create a knot that was impossible to detangle.

You were torturing yourself by looking at your hands together, as you spoke barely above a whisper, “What are you doing?”

“Something different.”

You let out a sigh and shut your eyes, “We can’t keep going around in circles.”

“I don’t want to go around in circles anymore,” Shawn squeezed your hand, “I want this.”

You clenched your teeth together, letting out an aggravated breath, as you picked your head up to look at him, “We’re not doing this again.”

“Y/n,” Shawn pleaded with you, “I––Not having you in my life was the worst–––”

“And whose fault was that?” You wanted to rip your hand away, but it had been so long since you last had any physical contact with him. And you missed the warmth that flooded your veins when you were connected with him.

Shawn’s shoulders fell, “It was all my fault. But not being with you––Whenever there was good news, you were always the first person I wanted to tell. I wanted to call you and hear about your day. And I realized that I never want to lose you again.”

One…Two…Three…Four…

“Do you even like me like that, Shawn?”

His eyes were wide, mouth slightly agape, as he looked at you with shock evident on his face. But he blinked a few times, coming back to reality, as he furrowed his eyebrows together, “Why wouldn’t I––Of course I like you like that.”

“Are you sure you don’t miss our friendship?” His hand squeezed around yours at the mention of that word, “We were apart for so long. Are you sure you just don’t miss that?”

Shawn shook his head, “I don’t think you’re understanding what I’m saying––”

“I understand perfectly,” you cut him off, “You told me that I shouldn’t feel these feelings for you. You were the one who was so adamant about not ruining our friendship––”

Shawn continued to shake his head, “I’ve liked you for so long––”

“And I was so in love with you,” you ducked your head down and sniffled, “For so long. And now…I don’t understand you.”

Slowly, you started to pull your hand away from his grasp, but he only held your hand tighter, this time not giving you an option to leave. Because he knew if you left, the chance of you two becoming more than friends would be off the table.

“Please,” Shawn tugged on your hand for you to look up at him, but you still kept your head down, “When You’re Ready is about you, my feelings for you back then were so…Strong that I had to write it out, but I didn’t think you felt the same way. I wanted more, but at the time we were just friends.”

You picked your head up and narrowed your eyes at him, “And you didn’t tell me this when I told you I loved you?”

“How was I supposed to react?” His voice was full of shame, “I didn’t know you were in love with me and it scared me––”

“Do you know how scared I was to tell you?” Your voice was soft, almost fragile, as if you could feel your heart breaking all over again, “And when you said you didn’t feel the same and I––”

“Hey,” Shawn shushed you as he heard your voice grow higher in pitch, cracking at the end of your sentence. Hesitantly, he brought a hand up to cup the side of his face, as he shifted his body to face you, “It’s––I know I’ll never be able to apologize enough for what I did.“

He gulped, briefly breaking eye contact before looking up at you with pleading eyes, “I felt so lost without you and I realized that what we had was always more than a friendship. And the only time I felt relatively okay was when I saw you in the park last December,” his eyes softened, “Even though you told me off…Those ten minutes with you made me feel something.”

“This could really ruin our friendship,” you mumbled as you felt his knees knock against yours.

Shawn hummed in acknowledgement.

“How––” you felt your breath hitch in the back of your throat as Shawn’s, once still thumb, started rubbing soothing circles on your cheek, “How will we do this?”

He hummed again, not giving you a proper response.

“This,” you felt your heart stop as he leaned forward, brushing the tip of his nose against yours, “If something happened between us would Brian have to choose?”

“I really don’t want to be thinking about Brian right now.” He spoke as you felt his breath hit your face.

“What––”

“Excuses, excuses,” Shawn tsked with a subtle laugh as his eyes closed. He slightly leaned his head to the side, pressing a light kiss to the corner of your mouth, “We’ll figure it out as we go.”

“What if we mess up?”

Shawn opened his eyes, brown eyes full of sincerity, “I’d rather mess up than not know what it felt like to try.”

And without anymore excuses to spurt out, Shawn ducked his head and captured your lips in a kiss. Even though you knew the kiss was coming, you still let out a slight noise of surprise, but you didn’t back away.

You sighed into the kiss as he held the back of your neck, wanting to keep you as close to him as possible. At the same time you rested your free hand right above his knee, he slid his tongue in past your lips.

The more you kissed him, the more you thought about how right he was. You would rather mess up trying––with him––than not know what this felt like. You put your friendship on the line the first time, and it suffered greatly, but now that the two of you were on the same page about feeling something more for each other…It seemed silly to let the opportunity go to waste.

Even though you’d waited years to know how his lips felt against yours––you didn’t count the drunk pecks with each other as real kisses––you pulled away. He followed your lips to press one last kiss against them before leaning his forehead against yours.

A few moments of silence passed, “Should we…” You couldn’t help the glowing smile that spread across your face, “Should we head back?”

“Let’s stay here for a few more minutes.”

You nodded your head, pulling away from him brushing his nose against yours, as you scooted up right next to him––so that your thighs were touching––and leaned your head on his shoulder. You felt Shawn release a content sigh as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, and rested his head on top of yours.

Neither of you knew how long you sat on the edge of Brian’s bed for, but you were in comfortable silence, appreciating feeling close to one another. It was Shawn’s hand giving you a squeeze that brought you out of your blissful daydreaming.

“Ready to head back?”

You snuggled your head further into the crook of his neck and shook your head mumbling a no.

You felt Shawn’s chest rumble with a bit of laughter as he untangled your hands and threw an arm around your shoulder, hugging you close, “Neither am I, but you know how much Brian hates when people are in his room.”

Nodding against his shoulder you let out a sigh, “Alright.”

Shawn peeled his arm off from you as he stood up, but he extended his hand to help you off the bed. With a smile, you reached out for his hand as he pulled you up, sliding his fingers in between yours as the two of you walked out the door.

Even when the two of you stopped at the end of the hallway, eyes scanning the apartment seeing how many more people showed up, he still held your hand tight.

“I’m going to grab water from the kitchen,” He looked down at you, “Want anything?”

You smiled, “Just a water please.”

Shawn nodded his head, but before he left for the kitchen, he slid his index finger under your chin, tilting your head up to look at him. His eyes shined with admiration for you, and he quickly lowered his head to press a chaste peck to your lips.

“Be right back,” you watched him stalk off to the kitchen with a lovesick smile on your face that you didn’t try and hide.

“So,” Brian seemed to appear out of nowhere as he slid up against the wall, “You told him?”

You didn’t know how he knew, but Brian always seemed to know your true feelings for Shawn. You just hummed in response.

Brain let out a small laugh, the familiar hint of glee was back in his eyes whenever he mentioned you and Shawn together, “And he told you?”

You tore your eyes away from Shawn uncapping two water bottles to look at Brian, “We talked.”

“Knew it,” Brian’s smile was wider than yours, “Called it from the beginning.”

You rolled your eyes and shoved his shoulder, “You knew nothing.”

He softly smiled at you, “He’s always been in love with you, ya know? He always talked about it.” His soft smile transformed into a smirk, “And it was so obvious you were in love with him. I’m surprised he didn’t know.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, finally knowing that your feelings for him were reciprocated. Deciding not to respond to Brian, you turned your head back to Shawn who was chatting with a friend in the kitchen as he poured the waters into red cups.

He was already staring at you, every now and then glancing at the person who was rapidly talking to him. But his eyes perked up with happiness when he saw you return his gaze.

You slightly tilted your head, furrowing your eyebrows as you glanced at the person who was talking to him, mouthing a “who?”

Shawn raised his shoulders in a shrug as he let out a small laugh, one that you returned.

You kept your eyes trained on Shawn as he politely excused himself from the person as he placed the plastic bottles into the recycling container. He went back to grab the two cups full of water, and even as he weaved through the crowd to get back to you, politely dodging more conversations, his eyes never left yours.

You let out a content sigh, your heart picking up speed, with every step he took closer to you. And when he reached you, he handed you the cup of water, throwing an arm around your shoulder. He pulled you in close to his side as he nonchalantly struck up a conversation with Brian.

Even though you had no idea what their topic of conversation was about, you blindly nodded along to whatever they said. The only thought you had swirling around in your head was how nice it felt when Shawn either squeezed your shoulder or slightly ran the tips of his fingers along your bicep.

Things were different now.

You tilted your head to the side, craning your neck up to look at Shawn’s side profile. And just like every time––since the start of your friendship––when either of you looked at each other, the other one almost looked back instantly. He smiled down at you, ducked his head down to press a soft kiss to your cheek, and you felt your smile grow even wider.

A good different.

taglist (add/remove yourself!) : @adelaidestreets, @alilovesshawn, @alina--jpeg, @fallinallincurls, @http-isabela, @lights-on-mendes, @mendesficsxbombay, @now-that-i-saw-u @particularnarry, @shawnmendez, @shawnsreputation, @shawn-youth, @turtoix, @vinylmendes, @5-seconds-of-mendes, @pupsandducks @musicalkeys, @madatmendes @im-salt-but-not-salty @sunkisseddreamer, @crossedties @fortheloveoftheaussies, @illuminatepotter

120 notes · View notes

literaphobe · 4 years ago

Text

season three of she-ra rated by catradora content

the price of power: adora talks about how she thinks the others at the horde can change too and when u think about it in the “at this point in the story, she still hoped catra would change” way it’s like wow :’) we knew that but wow :’) it sucks tho that in this scenario she’s actually wondering specifically if shadow weaver can change, which :/ hm :/ bc shadow weaver sucks. adora really fucking called her out on her abuse tho which is so sexy, and yes that has nothing to do with catradora i just felt like i really wanted to mention it at least <3 shadow weaver is a loserrrr <3 but.... she does mention “catra betrayed me” which makes adora do her “oh, catra?👀” eyebrow raise. i swear she cannot keep a straight fucking face whenever someone mentions catra. it’s like. are you lgbt or something? :/ 2/10

huntara: no catra this episode, but adora’s reaction to huntara will forever go down as one of her stupidest gay moments. u think catra knew super huge buff ladies were adora’s type? how fucking funny would it be if catra thought she never stood a chance with adora not because of the internalized homophobia shadow weaver instilled in them but simply because she thought she was not tall and buff enough for adora’s taste. “adora doesn’t want me!!!!! not like i want her..... because i’m not swole😔” 0/10

once upon a time in the waste: very funny and sexy of catra 2 be like. hm. i was sent here to die. i have completely given up on my hopes and dreams. oh wait what did you say? she-ra?😏 and she was blonde?👀 she’s got a sword?😩 she was angry?😽 her name is adora?👅 and all of a sudden catra is like nope existential crisis over. i’m gay again. and also evil again. that mix culminates in her giving a sexy monologue. did you know that if you’re gay and evil you will give very sexy monologues? and also sword lesbians will fall in love with you despite your questionable morals? anyway, catra takes over the whole of the crimson waste. i won’t discuss how since technically it doesn’t involve catradora but it was really hot okay😔 also adora was being really hot and powerful and fearless (she did not even flinch as bats flew in her face. hello?) and Angery this ep but i will also not get into it😩 i will however remark upon how both catra and adora low key had meltdown monologues this ep, and it is :( but also hot and cool of them. now, i will move onto when they meet <3 catra starts slow clapping as her goons creep onto mara’s ship and poison dart the best friend squad. they only send three darts flying and the last one is blocked by huntara. we have to assume that catra only ordered her team to send three darts for huntara, bow, and glimmer, leaving adora for last because catra has to greet her with, and let’s say it all together—“hey, adora😼”. adora tries to make a run for her sword but catra uses her new sexy cool whip to take it away. “i think this might be the quickest i ever won a fight. always so dramatic with you, isn’t it, adora?” adora tells huntara to save bow and glimmer first, leaving adora as catra’s only prisoner. 👀👀👀👀 soon after, everyone is celebrating, and catra sits in the big chair on mara’s ship like it’s a throne, casually draped over with adora’s sword in her hand, the long blade just resting between her legs. and. hooooooooooooooo boooooooooooooiiiiii. let me just. let me just have a second over here okay folks? this is all very hard for my sexuality to take. i don’t think u all realize how hard it is to make these evaluations. every day i have a breakdown over how hot one of them is. it’s one thing to just watch the show but every time something gay happens (so like, every five seconds) i gotta pause it and take notes (by take notes i really mean start ranting about it like this) and then i gotta like rewind it and shit to double check and i have to force myself to just be repeatedly subjected to the gayness. starting to get a little homophobic tbh! okay back to the show. catra is so fucking sweet and makes everyone cheer scorpia on too. she breaks out into this beautiful giggle. oh my god her laugh. bitches falling for this catgirl left and right smh. catra grabs scorpia’s claw and drags her away from the party. we also find out this is when catra learns about what a party is. remember how adora didn’t know what a party was either? :( damn. they deserve to have absolute ragers ok. catra starts talking about how valued and cool she will be when they go back and show hordak the sword, etc, and scorpia is like. but what if we didn’t do that. what if we just stayed here and had a gay life. a good honest gay life filled with sick parties and gang leading. and catra is like oh right.... u have a point..... i do hate the horde...... wonder why that is.... and then scorpia makes a fatal mistake. she says “forget adora!” which is about the dumbest thing you can tell a self destructive catgirl who’s been in love with adora her whole life but also kinda resents her atm. and catra is like perhaps i don’t want to forget adora. did u consider that scorpia? did you not think about how i crave her lips upon my mouth every night? fuck u im gonna go uh... find adora n maybe tie her up even more idk >:( catra goes to “check on the prisoner”, according to her own words. what does that mean, catra. like what. ur gonna go see if adora wants some tea? something 2 eat?👅 someone to kiss? Fkskdjdjdj adora is obviously struggling against her restraints and trying to break free, and the second she sees her she goes “catra, you can’t do this! >:(“ and catra is like “well, hello to you, too.” because MANNERS, adora, like god damn it catra always puts in the tender loving care and effort to greet you and you can’t even say hello? :( catra dismisses the goon who was previously guarding adora, because when you.... talk to your..... best friend turned enemy who’s now your prisoner. ur gonna want some privacy ya know😌😩👀😔 anyway catra is like ok.... once again.... y can’t i do this. and adora is like more horde army might come in!!! which. adora baby i love you but maybe don’t make that the thesis statement of your sales pitch? to the person who was second in command at the horde?? not to nitpick but if i were u i would’ve just said “noooooo don’t open a portal that might destroy reality ur so sexy ahaha” OR “if u give me back my sword and decide NOT to rip apart the fabric of this dimension i’ll kiss you on the mouth❤️” i know that u think ur feelings are one sided and that catra isn’t in love with you and that you can’t seduce her to the bright side💔 but u actually could have 💔 fkdkdjdjdj moving on.... catra says “never a dull moment with you❤️” which is weirdly so romantic. like yeah they’re enemies but catra gets bored when adora isn’t around. life is always exciting when adora is there, in catra’s eyes :’( like damn bitch if you like her so much why don’t you just marry her haha. please? <3 adora continues to explain that we will ALL lose if hordak opens a portal, light hope and mara said that opening a portal will endanger everyone!! and catra says the funniest thing. “you’ll listen to anything weird old holograms tell you, won’t you? you should really try to get over that. :/“ LFKDKFKDKFKFKFJ GIRL YOU HAVE NO BUSINESS BEING THIS FUNNY. but then adora says the wrong thing :( she brought up you know who and said “shadow weaver told me” and catra.... :( she’s like. how did. she tell you. and adora’s voice goes soft and it’s like “you didn’t know?” because from what she knows catra is allegedly the one who betrayed shadow weaver, not the other way around. and catra grabs adora by the collar and pulls her in and adora gets this gasp and. let me just scream for five minutes. okay. i’m back. so. catra pulls her in and she’s like HOW. and adora just very slowly and cautiously tells her the truth. that shadow weaver is in bright moon. and :( catra :( she lets go of adora and comes to this. very destructive realization that shadow weaver “left her” for adora and that all the pain she’s felt is all Because Of Adora. that, just by being adora, everything, all the happiness that catra could have had, has been taken away. which she is wrong about but that’s what she thinks :( and adora realizes that this is. not good. and she gently goes “catra?” because the look on her face must be worrying to adora, and catra starts to walk away and adora desperately calls out to her. “catra, please, you have to listen!” but...... it’s too late :( and catra is enveloped by the darkness. 9/10 for the collar grabbing shit and just the inherent gayness of their connection and interactions but also this is all so sad bros :( my bros are all devastated

moment of truth: catra walks back into the horde with her arm around adora’s shoulder. hm! Hm! HM! really doesn’t feel like she needs to do that! but she’s doing it anyway! later on, entrapta and adora are alone and talking. “catra would say anything to get whatever she wants.” true, but also not true, adora. she wants to be your gf, but has she said anything about it? no :/ that’s in like 2 seasons. and you were literally about to die so she low key had nothing to gain. so :/ think carefully next time. fjsjfjsjdjdjd entrapta pulls out the funniest cutest bar graphs of data, and there’s like four categories and for some reason catra has low scores for the first three but a really high score for the last one? i desperately want to know what that is. adora says “look, i understand. catra was my friend, too.” and she casts her eyes to the side when she says this. as if.... that statement is a lot more loaded than it seems. because yes catra was adora’s friend. but also wasn’t she, at the same time, so much more than that? yes <3 it was because they were best friends <3 gal pals <3 “but she makes bad decisions. this is one of them.” :( yeah i mean what am i supposed to do. disagree with that? it’s so wild to think about how even through all of this adora never hated catra. arguably, she never stopped loving her either. which. sigh😔 pour one out boys we are yearning tonight! entrapta leaves the room, asking adora if she’ll try to escape. and adora is like “no?👀” which is irrelevant but also really funny. another irrelevant thing i want to bring up is catra when she’s losing in a fight against shadow weaver. “so, what? you’re on the side of good now? you made me this way, and you get to be the good guy?” bro. fucking.... bro. catra’s lines istg.... also her being able to take on gang leaders and princesses and take those people down easily but to lose so quickly to shadow weaver... y’all know what that is right :( sigh. wait. i’m not done let’s sit very sadly on this next line for a bit. “do you know what happened to me after you escaped? do you even care?” i’m gonna cry okay. right. back to catradora. catra is. really unhinged and devastated and destructive right now :( and so she marches into entrapta’s lab and demands that they fire up the portal machine. entrapta says they can’t, because “adora was right” and immediately that sets catra off. she gives this barely restrained chuckle and is like “adora is right.....” and she’s just. having a full on breakdown. she’s just filled with so much anger and resentment.... i can’t even joke and call it a hate boner man, and that sucks because i would love to call it a hate boner :( “adora gets EVERYTHING she wants” no catra, you are wrong. she wants you. she does not have you. case closed. adora has literally only truly wanted one thing in her life, and she does not have it because you won’t give it to her 😔 in conclusion, adora p much never gets what she wants :( why don’t you go over and hug her and then maybe you’ll calm down. i know it’s more complicated than that but still😔 anyway, catra is very determined to not let adora win, so in order to beat adora, she decides they have to open the portal no matter what, because that’s the one thing adora seems to not want right now. some very not chill stuff happens, and catra runs into hordak’s lab and demands that he opens the portal. she lies to hordak and says “oh you can’t trust anyone, especially a PRINCESS” and she turns over to glare pointedly at adora. which is. SUCH a bitter ex thing to do. “they’ll just use you to get what they want” CATRA SHE LOVES YOU :( SHES IN LOVE WITH YOU SHE ONLY EVER WANTED TO BE WITH YOU :( and also she was raised to think she only had worth if she did what others expected of her and that everyone’s happiness and safety was somehow her responsibility. and that it would be better for her to die than for others to get hurt. she was never trying to use you :( you were the only thing that ever made her selfish :( bow, glimmer, and shadow weaver run in and fight with hordak and catra, and catra realizes she has to pull the lever now or it’ll be too late. adora desperately yells “catra, please, don’t!” and catra looks at her for a last time, evil smirking before she does it. roll credits. 8.5/10

remember: oh, we’re really in it now huh :( we hear the last lines from catra and adora from the last episode, and i think this is a part of adora’s dream. she is woken up by catra gently saying her name <3 then by catra a little bit angrily saying her name fjsjdjdjd adora wakes up with a shock and catra is sitting on top of her. HHHHHH. okay. adora shoves catra off and catra is like ???? damn what usually u pull me closer and hug me when i wake u up😔😔 wtf. but catra grabs adora’s wrists to calm her down anyway and gives her this pretty reassuring look, and she jokes “heh, since when do you sleep in? u usually wake up early to flirt with me!” as we all know adora gets nightmares even from her days in the horde so catra just treats this as normal and tries to make adora feel better as usual. ground her and say lighthearted things to make adora remember that she is safe. i mean technically the universe is collapsing in on itself rn so making adora feel safe isn’t the Best thing to do but catra also thinks the fake reality IS reality atm so that’s not her fault <3 adora is confused about how she got “here” and catra finds this strange because adora is in her room! she has her own room now, because she’s force captain! which makes u wonder whether catra and adora would sleep in the same bed if adora was force captain. would catra creep in and sleep in her bed still? would they lock the door and cuddle? oh well! guess we’ll never know! they... are so soft here, just smiling at each other, catra worried about adora, adora smiling back and deciding to just dismiss what happened as a weird dream. “there was something i needed to fix...” “of course you dream about work. there’s nothing to fix adora. everything’s perfect.” hhhh i know everyone in the fake reality thinks Everything’s Perfect too but can we just be gay for a second and think about how a perfect life for catra is just... to be with adora. can we just chomp down on that meaty thought for a sec? :( ok anyway, catra puts her hand on adora’s shoulder and adora smiles and is like wow ur right :) this does feel pretty perfect i mean catra and i are in bed together what could be so wrong💞😜😘👅😎😩 catra pulls adora up to her feet and says “come on, get up” and adora is perfectly happy to just chase after catra. it’s so fucking unfortunate tho that she decides at the last second to pick her ugly ass jacket up. like baby, no. u look perfectly hot as is in that white top. but she needs the jacket to see her force captain badge so she can get Visions or whatever. like goddamn i know the world was collapsing in on itself but imagine if shadow weaver had never been like abusive and the horde was just some chill ass ugly hangout spot instead of a fascist regime. catra and adora really could’ve just been happy huh? :( anyway catra gets kinda annoyed that her gf is not chasing after her any more and instead putting on her ugly ass jacket and looking at it in the mirror. so she’s like “adora! :(“ and adora goes running. she always comes when catra calls for her😌😌😌😌 and then the opening credits play, giving me whiplash. wow that was such a gay fucking cold open. adora walks side by side with catra and is a little weirded out by all the people saluting her and shit. and she’s like lmao wtf what are they all looking at and catra is like u u beautiful idiot. ur hot, and also the invasion of thaymor that u led went perfectly❤️ ur the hero of the hour i’m so proud of you babe❤️ catra is just a proud happy gf who smiles so beautifully and adora is getting more Visions and Flashbacks. but catra is so hot when she’s proud of her that adora decides that she’s gonna be like YEAH OMG I DID THAT WAR CRIME RIGHTS <3 and salutes people like a fucking idiot. and catra does the whole flirty “oh please, you couldn’t have done it without me ;)” bit and wraps her gay arm around gay adora who looks like she’s in heaven, hilariously pushing adora down a bit because catra is SHORT FJSJDJDJD and adora is like “rightttt ;) what would i ever do without you ;)” and man to be a horde soldier witnessing their flirting. i would start yelling slurs at them immediately. adora elbows catra with her arm and they both laugh, but the force causes catra to bump into a horde soldier. and the soldier makes the fatal mistake of reacting normally and being like HEY WATCH WHERE YOU’RE GOING TWERP and catra is not amused. adora puts her hands on her hips, glaring at the soldier, and he immediately gets so fucking scared. and the soldier is like UHUHUH FORCE CAPTAIN I DIDN’T KNOW YOU WERE— I’M SO SORRY. didn’t know she was what? DIDN’T KNOW SHE WAS WHAT???? gay????? banging this angry catgirl????? in the middle of flirting with her??????? WHAT DOES IT MEAN. what does it ALL mean?????? and adora is just like YEAH U BETTER BE >:( disMISSED >:( like fucking WHAT?????? yeah how dare u get mad at my gf for bumping into you. it is YOUR fault for existing while we were roughhousing as part of a very intricate ritual. u ruined the FLOW of our flirting u jackass. u fucking bitch. now we gotta start all over again :( and then like the soldier leaves while v terrified and keeps bowing at them and catra and adora just bursts out laughing at each other. they’re that lesbian couple who will bully u in school and feel zero remorse for it. that is so fucking sexy. i wish that were me. catra proceeds to make fun of the soldier she bumped into and didn’t even apologize to all “oh, force captain, don’t hurt me! UHAHASHUAH” and adora plays along with the re-enactment by posing and acting tough. catra really do be flexing her privilege as gf of everyone’s boss huh. she’s that secretary who WILL spit in your coffee and kick you in the shin all because the CEO is in love with her and they’re like slamming ass. catra is like. just straight up rubbing it in everyone’s faces that she’s untouchable because adora is in love with her. that’s just. that’s just greaaat. they both start laughing again at their own jokes. and yeah they’re both pretty funny people but like ok lesbians. have fun being happy or whatever. catra is like “too good” and adora is like hehehe baby!!!! where are we going again and catra is like to the locker room!! there’s something i wanna show you😘😘😘 because you know they’re in love. them just walking down a corridor together feels like a straight up date. adora thinks they’re taking The Long Way instead of this shortcut she knows with a side door but that door is gone and suddenly this throws Doubt again. and i guess that door got swallowed up by the reality-collapsing portal but damn adora :/ what’s wrong with taking the long way? :/ too good to spend some quality time w ur gf? :/ JFJSJDJ anyway catra is like what? no this way is the right way :) the scene can be read as cute gfs who argue about directions even tho it’s just a walk to the locker room ❤️ i wouldn’t say it’s the right way to read the scene bc the point is that parts of reality as adora knows it is disappearing but shhh. i am gay <3 catra immediately starts worrying about adora again and she’s like DO U HAVE A CONCUSSION :( and like grabs adora’s face which is so cute. she also accidentally shoves adora towards her chest so adora has No Choice but to stare :) good for you adora “i know you get hit on the head a lot” JFKSKDKSJDJD man but catra gf goals tho :( get u a girl who will check if u have a concussion because you get hit on the head a lot, most of it accidents 😩😩😩 “but i figured your dumb little hair poof would cushion the blow” HDHJSSHAHSHSHSH GET YOU A GIRLFRIEND WHO WILL LOVE YOU EVEN THO UR HAIR POOF IS DUMB😳😳😳 adora is a tiny bit >:( about being roasted for her hair choices and also a bit >:) because catra touched her and she’s like LMAOOO IM ALL CHILL M8 😩👌🏻💅🏻😎 “don’t make me kick your butt” as she shoves catra. wow adora! watch where you’re putting your hands! jk i know i know :) you simply have no choice because the only place to shove someone is to push their tiddies :) i understand and approve :) catra responds to adora’s threats with “pft ;) as if you could” which is just yet another invitation for them to “fight” :). u know how i feel about catradora and their roughhousing? it’s like. u know how people talk about men fighting each other as an excuse to touch? i feel like catradora said yeah that’s ours now. and they’re right. it’s theirs. they literally. they fucking giggle and shit as they start shoving and hitting each other all the way to the locker room. and lonnie is like SURPRISE and adora’s reaction is so funny she legit looks like she got mad p*ssy blocked and she’s like the FUCK. and catra isn’t as mad bc she kind of like planned this cute like i love you adora❤️ surprise party. because it’s a surprise party! for adora! adora is like damn whats this?? grey ration bar cake w my face drawn on it? also from the looks of the drawing i feel like catra definitely drew it. isn’t that so fucking cute. adora hugs lonnie (yay) and kyle (what the fuck gross???) and she’s like u guys 😩😩😩u got the gray kind.... that’s way better than the brown kind.... lonnie is like “hey, it was catra’s idea!” implying that catra definitely specifically told them to make the cake out of the gray ration bars, not the brown ones. and adora. let’s all take a deep breath. she goes. “oh yeah? ;)” in the most. insufferably flirty way ever. like in that Wow This Was All You Huh ;) way, with her stupid hands on her stupid hips giving catra this 😏😏😏😏😏😏 look. and catra is like ;) casually leaning against the wall, her arms all crossed. it is interesting to note that adora keeps putting her hands on her hips and catra keeps crossing her arms. i think that’s really cute. catra says “eh, whatever, don’t make a big deal about it” but it is a big deal catra. u don’t just plan cute surprise parties for anyone. and the fact that this is YOU we’re talking about? for catra planning a thoughtful surprise party catered to adora’s tastes all because she’s proud of her accomplishments..... is on par with proposing marriage. adora won’t let catra live this down tho. “wow, i can’t believe you like me ;) that is so embarrassing for you!” and she grabs catra for head scratches. catra giggles and pushes against adora saying “stop it😳😳(no don’t stop bro don’t stop😩😩) get off 🙄🙄 (wait actually don’t get off😩😩) this is not 😡 because i like you😳😳(it’s because i love you💞)” and she shoves adora off only to IMMEDIATELY pounce on adora, making adora laugh so fucking happily. kyle is secretly a lesbophobe tho so when he sees this gay display he’s like WUUUUOHOH I DROP CAKE :( and we get this VERY quick frame of catra and adora with their fingers interlocked before they pull apart at the crash and look at kyle. that is so fucking rude of u kyle. we could’ve gotten a few more seconds of catra and adora interlacing their fingers but NO. fuck u. thankfully, the euphoria of being gay is still burning strong for catra and adora, so they laugh happily instead of beating the shit out of kyle. how sweet <3 adora sees the word MARA in one of the cake pieces, and she’s very thrown off right before catra holds her shoulder and is like “hang on, you got something right... THERE!” and she like throws grey bar sludge into adora’s face ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜 u know? how you pal around with your gals? adora rubs the grey cake stuff off her face, and then.... ugh i don’t even wanna say her name. we were all having such a good gay time :( [redacted] walks in and tells adora to get off the floor, and tells catra to get herself cleaned up. and [redacted] tells adora to come with her. adora gazes gayly upon catra’s face who gives her a reassuring smile that tells adora she’s okay, so adora runs along. catra looks lovingly at adora while she walks away. shadow weaver praises adora’s successful war crime and adora is like i couldn’t have done it without the others aka catra <3 and in this fake reality she succeeded in persuading shadow weaver to let catra come with her! adora goes to the force captain briefing and gets roasted by scorpia because scorpia is still like. jealous of adora because you know..... you know how you hate the person your crush is in love with? yeah <3 adora freaks out because the universe is falling apart and she keeps getting visions from her real life. and then catra appears, and all the weirdness stops for a moment. i think it is so interesting how the world starts falling apart faster when catra isn’t there, but when catra is there things in the fake reality start to look and feel a little more normal. it’s like.... catra and adora’s connection is so strong that when they’re together... they can stabilize the collapse of a reality. just for a little while. just to have a little more time together. their gay levels are THAT strong. they’re like level 5000 lesbians. and they just keep leveling up as the show goes on which is why by s5 they can defeat an intergalactic conquerer just by making out LMAOOOOO anyway. catra is very worried about her wife. she’s all “adora, what is wrong?” yeah she’s so worried she doesn’t even use a contraction. adora takes out the slip of paper and shows it to catra. “did you write this?????” and catra looks at it and is like “did i write a blank piece of paper? i’m gonna go with no.” which. KFKDKFKDKFKDKFFJ BROOOO WHY IS THAT SO FUNNY. it’s like not supposed to be funny because adora is having a meltdown but it’s so fucking funny i—moving on. adora starts properly freaking out and catra is like hey :( u ok omg :( calm down :( and she puts her hand on adora’s shoulder but adora swats it away like I CAN’T CALM DOWN :( and she starts rambling and referencing stuff that happened and this vision of catra betraying adora in promise shows up (i think it’s catra’s memory?????) and catra slaps adora. which. HEY :( but also it’s like very funny. and adora is like ow :( what was that? :( and catra is like sowwy!!!! :( u were freaking out!!!! and it was freaking me out!!!!! :( and adora is like well u didn’t have to Slap Me :(((((( and is like why would my evil catgirl gf do this. have i not loved her enough :( is this the thanks i get for loving her with my entire heart :( and catra grabs her arm and is like come on!!!! let’s get you outside!!!! you need some air :) and oh. oh man. oh to have my hand/arm lovingly held by a girl as she giggles and excitedly drags me somewhere. the fucking dream. adora protests against getting air which (??????) u don’t want air? but u need air? to breathe? i know adora is just trying to say she doesn’t need to like go to her and catra’s secret place at the highest edge of the horde but then oh guess what? she’s there with catra. and adora is like how did we get here.... and catra looks depressed because her gf is losing it and that’s so sad 😔 she’s like how did we get here? we climbed up :( like we always do :( or am i the only one who remembers that :( and adora is like idk what’s happening to me :( it’s like i’m losing my mind..... and catra is like you just need to relax <3 by hanging out with me <3 and adora is like ur probs right :( am fine :( everything fine :( and she gets this glimpse of catra and catra smiling evilly at her but catra gets up and is like huh! ofc im right! Everything’s Perfect! soon, the two of us are gonna be ruling etheria together, just like we always planned 😺😸😹😻😼😽😾🙀 and quietly, adora goes “is that what you really want? to rule the world?” and catra gets this UHHHHH look akin to when someone asks u “hey, do you like apples? or are you just gay for me?” and you gotta awkwardly answer “what.... nooooo..... i’m not gay i fucking love apples” and so catra gets the exact face that expresses this sentiment and she’s like “i mean, yeah, obviously. isn’t that what you want too?” and it’s like UGHHHH because clearly neither of them want to rule the world! ruling the world was just an excuse for catra to be with adora, and when adora inevitably says “hey maybe we shouldn’t rule the world” catra will take it to mean “i don’t want to be with you” instead of “ruling the world is bad” and it’s just. it really tears me the fuck up bros! when catra says don’t you want to rule the world too? she really means don’t you want to be with me? and it’s just. HHHHHHHHH. i can NOT. i have had it up to HERE. adora says “i don’t know (re ruling the world lmao i went on a tangent earlier)” and catra is like “don’t flake out on me now!” like ruling the world is meeting up for lunch and suddenly adora texted at 11:30 am that she’s not really feeling up to it today :/ “this is what we always wanted”, catra continues to say, and we all know that “this” is..... the freedom to be with each other, without everything else getting in the way. “everything will be perfect as long as we stay together”. and she is right about that. but also catra’s current definition of them “staying together” isn’t right. adora and catra were always supposed to meet halfway. they will both have to grow to do that. but let’s not get 2 deep😩 i am here to have meltdowns and make gay jokes only😌 and then adora says “what if we don’t stay together? what if it all goes wrong?” which is like. damn that’s the show right there KFKSJDJSJDJ and adora sees lightning again and she gets upset because why can’t catra see the reality-cracking lightning too!!!! why can’t catra see the light!!!!! why can’t she see that she should be doing good things and not evil things!!!!! why can’t she see that she should be coming with me, running away with me, being with me in a place that’s safe!!!!! and catra grabs her hand and is like “adora!!! stay with me, okay? :( you’re just seeing things. it’s all in your head” and it is all so terribly tragic and sad. ah, the age old argument. come with me, stay with me. i will be whispering this in decades’ time, spreading gay tales to my loved ones. after this, lonnie is calling for adora and catra. “thought we’d find you up there” FJSJDJSJDJD the way it’s just like an open secret that catra and adora are gay and have a gay hangout spot where they do gay things. incredible. adora finds out an entire week has passed all of a sudden and she grips her head in frustration and catra is like adora? :( and holds her in concern. and adora is like ranting about how there’s something wrong with space and time!! and catra is just freaked out and begging her to stop because adora please! please stop finding the destruction of reality weird and hold my hand! i haven’t been happy since the day you left! and.... hoo okay sadness. catra’s holding her arm and adora’s like we’re not supposed to be here!!! catra holds her upper arms and goes “adora, everything’s okay!” and adora snaps and tells her to stop saying that! because this isn’t right! because she will lose everything, including catra, if she does not fix this. “everyone keeps telling me everything is perfect but it’s not! everyone except... scorpia” so she runs away to find her and catra is like adora!!! adora, where are you going? please don’t go. don’t go where i can’t follow😔😔 but adora is gone. we get this whole thing with scorpia and adora and adora is straight up just so petty. about scorpia hating her. which mood because i want everyone to like me. all the time. but also adora in scorpia’s defense she has a crush on a certain catgirl who will Not Shut Up about you :/ adora gets flashbacks about catra and realizes that the girl she’s been inappropriately touching for the past.... day? is the one who did the thing that is destroying reality❤️ LMAOOOOO this would be like... hm actually not many situations available to describe this. except. have you been flirting with the thing that’s been trying to kill us? have you been in love with the thing that’s been trying to kill us? yeah stuff like that <3 “catra did this. she captured me, she took... the sword. she activated the portal!” LFKSKDKSKDKDK you know what? this would be 58384848484 times funnier if they had canonically banged during the fake reality before adora realized the world as they all knew it was about to end <3 and you know what? they did bone. but it was cut for time <3 KFKDKDKDK JKJK god i need to like shut up for once in my life. but if i did that, these evaluations which no one asked for would not exist❤️ adora loses scorpia and razz (temporarily) and lonnie and she finds catra again! even tho she now remembers that catra kidnapped her and took her sword and used it for the portal and activated her portal.... she immediately grabs catra and pulls her along with her. despite knowing all that..... for the moment she is acting on instinct and doesn’t care. she just wants to keep catra with her and keep catra safe because the portal is swallowing up so many people and she cannot lose catra. adora drags her to this weapons closet that closes behind them and catra, instead of kissing her in this enclosed space (WIMP), shakes her and is like hey! you’ve officially lost it, haven’t you? and adora is like listen, we have to go. now! scorpia, lonnie, kyle, rogelio, they’re all gone! but catra is like what are you talking about? who’s gone? and adora’s all they’re gone. there’s nothing left. and we’ll be next if we don’t get out of here right now. and she’s so firm about it putting her entire foot down because No. not catra. she Cannot lose her. but catra is so stuck in wanting some part of all this to be real that she’s arguing with adora that she’s not making sense and Everything Is Fine. and adora goes “don’t say it’s Perfect. i know it’s not perfect and so do you!” because... she just knows catra that well. and she knows catra is smart enough to see what’s going on if scorpia did that too. catra’s choosing to repress it all, but adora’s words snap catra into memory for a moment, and she remembers it, maybe even remembers it all, and i think.... it all just hurts too much and she’d rather not be in that reality so she acts like she doesn’t know a thing and tells adora she’s not going anywhere. frustrated because she can’t convince catra, adora picks up one of the stun barons and... tases catra KFKSKDKDKDKSKDK and i can’t help but think of when catra tased adora back in sword part 2 (1x02) and man that is not good but also so funny that they’ve both tased each other. there’s this desperation there in both instances that we should definitely not romanticize at all but they just. deep down they will just do close to anything to keep the other with them. and it is messed up! and i’m glad that a little ways down the road they unlearn this but also.... wow. adora catches catra tenderly in her arms as she slumps against her, literally fucking BRIDAL CARRYING catra out and running away from the crumbling horde. literally IMAGINE IF LIKE. catra did not wake up and fight with adora. imagine if catra had stayed passed out longer and adora had fixed the portal without anyone getting left behind. and catra was still unconscious and she like walks out of the portal back into where they all were with catra in her arms like that. just like hey i fixed the portal :) all of us nearly died and it was kind of partially this catgirl’s fault but i’m like low key desperately in love with her so can we keep her? lmao :-) anyway. adora steals a skiff again (lmao first ep throw back! remember their date) and flies her and catra out of the crumbling world. catra wakes up, watching adora’s determined face as she flies them out and catra’s like WAIT WTF DIDN’T U TASE ME and is like hypocritically fighting adora trying to grab the stun baton. bad idea! adora’s DRIVING you don’t attack the driver!! but catra does not often make good decisions </3 the skiff crashes and they both fall off. they get up, look at each other angrily and run after the stun baton. catra grabs it first but adora hits it out of her hand and grapples catra who continues to keep reaching for the weapon. “catra, you can’t. we need to get as far from the fright zone as possible or we’ll be completely erased along with everything else.” “you think you can convince me by kidnapping me?” well no but goddamn the world is COLLAPSING catra PLEASE :( also is the power of love not enough? catra she loves you she’s in love with you she would pull you from the depths of hell even if you threw everyone in there in the first place!!!!!! that’s how deep this runs because that’s not even a metaphor adora has identified you as the main party who brought upon this reality ripping portal and still!!! she wants you saved. is that not fucking hot? :/ is that not sexy enough for you? :/ KFKSKDKSKDK jkjk okay catra continues with “what is wrong with you?!” and throws adora over her shoulder. not to like. ruin a very heated and serious moment in the show. but catra throwing adora like it’s nothing is like... very strong..... and when you remember how adora likes strong girls........ KFKDKDKDKDKDKDJ adora b like ow that hurts 😔 u free next friday? 😳 catra goes up to the stun baton again and adora kicks it away. “i won’t leave you behind again.” “why can’t you just stay? we have everything we ever wanted.” BITCH THE WORLD IS COLLAPSING IN ON ITSELF. THERE’S A PORTAL EATING UP REALITY. STAY WHERE? “it’s not real, catra.” YES. save the world first, and then after this you can play rock paper scissors and the loser will go with the winner❤️ wouldn’t it be so funny if they did that. if they decided to leave it up to chance. if adora was like well the horde is evil but if you beat me in rock paper scissors i guess i will follow you wherever you go. and then they like fix the portal and everyone is like yay hey adora lets go back to bright moon! and she’s like yeah uh i gotta hash out this situation with my gf real quick uh just a little heads up i might be bringing the horde’s best strategist and leader over to our side OR i might be fighting for the bad people again :/ so wish me luck and everyone just had to stand there and watch as adora and catra held their hands out and went ROCK PAPER SCISSORS SHOOT anyway. “as much as i wish that things could be simple the way they used to be, there’s no going back.” and she holds catra gently and in many ways i think she’s sort of acknowledging that she really, really just wants that light hearted playful dynamic with catra back. they both just experienced it again. they both just threw themselves back into it again. and adora really wants to be happy with catra, she would stay with catra if she could, but she has overwhelming responsibilities and an overwhelming sense of responsibility that was instilled in her from a young age. and she thinks she shouldn’t get to choose her happiness, to put herself first. also like. THE HORDE IS EVIL DJSJDJSNDNSJS like. that’s a really important part too. it’s kind of hard for catra to distinguish that though because she’s had very. evil things done to her all her life. and she held on for so long because she thought adora would always be there with her but then adora walks away and makes it seem like. it could have been that easy. but it can’t have been that easy because if it was so easy why did catra have to suffer so much for? also adora didn’t run away to save catra. she had this destiny thrust upon her, and she chose to leave the horde before inviting catra along, which is not wrong of her at all, but it inevitably made catra feel like an afterthought. and now... things are kind of damaged. and catra just wants to run if adora won’t stay, so she shoves adora and takes off and adora lunges after her, tackling her, and adora decides to confront catra about the big elephant in the room, the thing she’s not said a thing about to catra until now when they’re fighting because she was so desperate to save catra before. “why did you do it?” “i don’t know what you’re talking about!” which is a lie but now that she really gets to see the consequences of her rage and anguish filled actions, i don’t think catra can properly explain it either. she was just so angry and she had built this narrative in her head that it was adora’s fault, and so she just wanted to do everything that adora didn’t want her to do. except u failed catra😔 adora wants you to love her and you do, you do love her😔 oopsie😔 you just don’t show it in healthy ways most of the time because your relationship is fraught with tragedy and abusive upbringings💔 adora gives up questioning catra for the moment because “there’s no time. we have to go.” catra grunts as adora’s childhood promise plays in her mind and it is overlaid with the adora of the present telling her “i promise, everything will be okay if we just stay together.” and goddamn adora really means it. she’s literally willing to patch everything up together even after everything if catra will just Decide right here, right now, to go with her. right then, the memory of adora first asking catra to come with her plays and adora is asking her, “help me fix this, please, this can’t be what you wanted” because adora knows! she knows how caught up catra was, in her pain and anger and desperation to win, to overcome all the times she lost growing up. she believed that catra, with her loving heart that saved adora everyday they knew each other growing up, could not have wanted to erase all of reality. to erase what they had. but just because adora knows that doesn’t mean catra does. all the rage and pain and resentment that led to her opening the portal, it is still there, and it is still affecting her judgement in a bad way, and by reminding her that she cannot just repress it all, that she cannot just play pretend with adora until their time is up,,,, this leads her to lash out again :( :( :( “don’t you get it? i am never going to go with you.” i wanna be like sad but also this bitch straight up LYING remember that other time she said “don’t you get it?” remember what came after that? so maybe catra in this moment is too angry and consumed by self hatred, too proud to admit she wants adora when she thinks adora doesn’t want her the way she wants her.... but “never”? lmaooooo ok :/ catra evil gay laughs and goes “you always have to go and ruin it, don’t you?” ruin what???? the illusion????? the pretenses you work so hard to keep to cover up how deep the feelings you both have run??? catra lunges for adora and fights with her, scratching and missing because adora is dodging and catra’s heart is too.... sigh..... she’s too fucking gay to really bring it ok? no matter how angry she is she still loves adora too much to give it her best. adora doesn’t fight back, mostly defending and pushing catra away. “catra, look what’s happening. you’re going to destroy everything!” catra stomped on her heart and she still wants to Convince her, which is really sad, for now, for both of them. and catra goes feral and is like “i don’t care! i won’t let you win. i’d rather see the whole world end than let that happen.” :( bro? this song is so sad. can we change it? sigh. catra is too far gone at the moment. everything, even the slightest concession to adora, even at the expense of existence, is like admitting defeat to catra. and when catra says she’d rather see the whole world end than let adora win, she’s also saying she’d let herself... die. and that is just so sad. bro who gave season three the right. like... i am so exhausted. i am just trying to call some bitches out for being gay, i did not sign up for all this pain. i am so exhausted. this episode is twenty odd minutes or so. you know how many hours i’ve spent writing this? it’s not anyone’s fault but mine for being extra, but man i am so tired. i love seeing catradora interact, but god, at what cost? the portal rips up the ground between them, and catra grabs at adora, clutching onto her badge. i cannot tell if she was just trying to take it off or she wanted to grab adora and pull her close too. “catra, no!” adora grabs catra’s wrist but the badge falls off and catra falls too. “catra!” catra is on some rock in the falling heap, and adora reaches for her but she’s too far away. still, she keeps her hand outstretched. but catra, who’s hanging on by a rock at this point, gives her this look of... almost helplessness. that then hardens into resentment and anger and she just. lets go. and adora, who has tears in her eyes, is just. she absolutely crumbles here. and she runs a good distance away and falls to her knees and just starts SOBBING. she is just crying so hard over losing catra AGAIN and it’s just. That’s Too Much, Man! thankfully, razz shows up and is like stop crying bitch u can still save her ❤️ so adora decides to stop crying for all time and gets to work❤️ 10/10 but also did i ask? :/ yes i did and i am in so much pain right now. my god what an episode

the portal: it’s so fucking refreshing not seeing catradora for a bit <3 i spent hours watching remember ok. here i am now starting the last ep at least a full week later because of how much it was. sometimes this show is too gay <3 i love it tho! i do <3 it’s just hard having to pause and replay every five seconds and write an essay about the tiniest thing <3 and i know what you’re thinking <3 no one asked me to do this <3 no one asked me to be so extra <3 and yet <3 anyway, more than half of the ep passes with adora losing bow and glimmer in the end, but as she’s crying on her knees again she lifts her head up and corrupted!catra touches her forehead with one finger. oh <3 that’s gay <3 anyway, catra’s here because she died but she’s got like nine lives so she’s back now and infected by the collapsing portal. oh great! we get what is probably the most cursed ḩ̵͕̺̯͚̞͈̰̤͎̥̗̳͂̽̃̄͌̎̅̈́̏̎͘͝͝ẻ̷͇͚͈̤̪̖̜̥̥̱̼̅̒͌͗͝y̴̥̺̓͌͊͌̊͒͌̏̔̕͝ ̶̧̟̤̠̯̱̳͕̙̯̔ͅá̶̤͉͕̱̰̮̺̮̝̗̱̲͓̺̯̒͐͐d̵̨̟̖̦̈̑̄̌̍̆̀̾̊̑̽͗͝͠ȏ̷̧̢̨̞̮͇̟̘̘̠̼̊͆̐̉̉̀̌̿̚ͅŗ̴̢̬͚͉̦̘̪̜̥̑̔̈́̀̒͂͗͜͠ͅą̸̡̡͕͈͚͕̼͔̳͔̖̙̯̱̓͗̊́. the look on adora’s face when she’s greeted with this is very interesting. she gives catra this little once over. on one hand, catra isn’t gone like adora thought when she had lost her into the collapsing portal, but also something about this catra definitely doesn’t look right. catra then proceeds to slam adora into another dimension. flat against the bar table in the crimson waste... and ngl it looks like. catra slammed her on the table for :/ stuff :/ that’s like :/ you know :/ banging :/ and adora even looks around for a moment because catra isn’t there and adora’s thinking damn where u at catra? :/ so you didn’t slam me against this table for... no? :( we aren’t gonna slam ass? :( but then surprise surprise! catra straddles her at the last moment! adora gasps and catra is like oh... where are your friends? in that unsettling corrupted tone. notice how adora has been silent this entire time. so horny you couldn’t speak bitch? :/ sadly, catra lunges for adora and adora realizes that catra is still evil and that she isn’t going to kiss her gently on the lips after all 😔 adora grabs catra by the arm and pulls her close. she puts her other hand on catra’s shoulder. adora baby.... you don’t need to touch her with both hands. are you that gay? yes. why am i even asking that question. “catra, stop. you have to–“ catra pushes her face aside. “it’s always the same with you, adora. i have to do this, oh we have to do that!” and then they’re like gay struggling against each other? and catra pulls adora up and holds her tight against her, adora’s arm bent over catra’s shoulder to keep her there. then with her other arm she wraps her elbow around adora’s other arm to further restrain her? and then she puts her face right against adora’s cheek. i don’t know how to explain this. it’s just. homoerotic. damn the gays fight like this? catra then tosses adora aside and they land somewhere else. catra says like things to adora that are about her insecurities and stuff. but i’m not gonna get into those <3 isn’t that so sexy of me? instead i will say this. catra kind of like fights one sidedly with adora a lot in this segment where they go through various locations we’ve seen in the show, and she like talks a lot of shit. but let’s focus on how adora’s feeling <3 she goes through it like this. 1) not horny anymore! i’m scared/insecure/angry with catra now 2) catra throws adora into the big chair on mara’s ship and catra slams her hand against it next to adora’s face like how someone might do before you kiss them in movies 3) horny again 4) catra doesn’t say sorry for the mean things corrupted her said and she didn’t kiss her gently on the lips so adora gets her shit together and realizes all the things evil corrupted catra is saying is not her fault! she pushes catra away and is like “i didn’t make you pull the switch. i didn’t make you do anything! i didn’t break the world, but i am gonna fix it. and you? you made your choice. now live with it!” and in between all that she fights back against catra and at the end she does you know that punch we all know about. but after the punch she calms down from that emotional breakthrough high and gets this :( face. at the end of the day... no matter how far gone catra went, no matter how right she was in setting those boundaries and making it clear catra has to be responsible for her actions, adora cares. adora loves her, it’s the one thing she can’t help. and to see catra sink so deep into the darkness... it hurts her. adora watches catra disintegrate when they fall into the wormhole thing that the portal caused, and she has this like. >:( :( look because adora’s planning to fix everything anyway, the upsetting thing here for her is that she failed to make catra see sense. catra’s likely going back to the horde when all of this is over and there’s nothing adora can do about it. and at the moment i don’t think adora wants to try anymore after failing so many times... which is good for her! but also they are both going to be so sad after this </3 after the whole angella scene (miss that milf) adora gets the sword back and becomes she ra again. we go back to the scene in the horde and catra clutches the side of her face, so we know that was her but it also wasn’t Her, you know? like part of her face got corrupted by the portal and she just had to make sure she was real and whole again. adora comes back as she-ra and destroys the portal, prompting catra to escape. but she looks back at the last moment, looks back angrily, and adora gives her an equally hard stare. she’s done with catra, for the moment, and catra realizes this, and it kind of hits her that this adora is different now. and for a moment she is sad and afraid, but she pulls it together to make a mean face again, before running away. 9/10

#text #she ra #catradora #spop #this is so long i hate myself #please like this and find it funny #also feel free to discuss any of the concepts or scenarios or things or whatever i brought up in here #we are on catradora s3 evaluation lockdown!#also yes i started using emojis here which i did not use for s1 and s2 #have fun reading!#please rb this

174 notes · View notes

liveandlearn-kg · 3 years ago

Text

Live and Learn

Prologue - Act 1/3

Read on Archive of Our Own!: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31463474/chapters/77826326

Next Act: https://liveandlearn-kg.tumblr.com/post/653986851746627584

Chapter Content Warnings: N/A

“All trust involves vulnerability and risk, and nothing would count as trust if there were no possibility of betrayal.” - Robert C. Solomon

Chapter Below Cut:

Do you ever just have something you’re really good at? Whether it be painting, a specific sport, maybe you’re the King of Games at your school and dominate at a specific card game. Well, I have one of those myself. I like to run, and I can run, faster than the speed of light you might say. They don’t call me “the blue blur” for no reason. Gotta go fast is what I always say.

I’m a track star, a talented one at that. Having beaten an Olympic record without breaking a sweat, going below times thought impossible long ago. And maybe it really is impossible for others, but me? A speedy blue hedgehog who's faster than the speed of sound? Nah. It’s just a thing I’ve been able to for literal years, ever since I was born.

Perhaps that’s why they named me Sonic, after a sonic boom. Sonic t. Hedgehog. It’s a nice name, I’ll admit that.

Have me run a mile, hundred meters, hundred-ten meter hurdles, parkour, anything, I’m game. It’s why they call me the Ultimate Trackstar. It’s not an official title or anything, just a sort of nickname they call me in the news. Along with “blue blur” and “fastest thing alive” of course.

There’s other ultimates mentioned across the news, like the Ultimate Gunman, the Ultimate Fisherman, hell there’s even an Ultimate Life Form! However, there’s a lot more than just us four, more than what I can count on both my hands.

Doesn’t matter though, so long as I have the wind blowing through my quills, and the freedom to run wherever I desire, it doesn’t matter. Nothing else matters, just me and the breeze.

Which is why suddenly everything else matters.

The most I can recall before landing in this problem of mine was simply running through fields and enjoying the light breeze and sunlight, before suddenly falling over and all going dark.

The next thing I recall is… where I am now. Everything was all black before I dared to open my eyes and absorb my surroundings.

Different shades of green striped the grass, and a checkered pattern painted the dirt of the walls next to me. This wasn’t the same grass field I was soaring through. And sure, it was an open field. But despite it being a field, it felt more confined for some reason, suffocating even.

Sure blue filled the sky and the grass beneath my feet felt genuine, but everything felt off, fake even. Like my surroundings weren’t what I thought they were, and I was being lied to. It wasn’t even the same vast, emerald field I was running through originally.

I pushed myself off the ground, despite my arms and legs both threatening to give out. I managed to at least sit up though, taking a better glance at the surrounding. Still nothing I’ve ever seen before, which included an orange and white clump of fur lying in the dirt right in front of me.

I stood myself up, finally having gained the strength in my body to do so. I stepped over towards the ball of fluff, before crouching down and shaking the fur ball gently. “Hey, you okay?” I asked, concerned for the guy’s well-being. They didn’t look very familiar at all, and it only briefly crossed my mind that this guy could have been behind my situation. Sure it might have been the safer choice to step away from this person, but I was never the kind of person to care about safety. In fact, it seemed more likely he was probably in the same boat as me. “Hellooo?” I called again, shaking him a bit rougher.

A groan sounded from the pile of fur, seeming to signify that they were awake. They looked to their side, and I was met with wincing, blue eyes. “Hello…?” he voiced, slowly pushing themselves off the ground and into a limping, sitting position.

“Glad to see you’re awake, Sleepyhead.” I remarked.

The person looked from side to side, trying to get an understanding of his surroundings, before looking back at me. “Do you.. do you know where we are?” he asked weakly, obviously just as disoriented as I was.

I shook my head, “Nah, last I remember was running through a field different from this one, before suddenly falling over and everything going black. I just woke up here myself. Don’t know a single thing about here.” I explained. My answer didn’t seem to be the one he was looking for though, causing him to sigh.

“Dang. I was hoping you knew something. The last thing I remember myself was working in my workshop. I also just suddenly fell over and blacking out, before I woke up here to you shaking me.” he explains, holding his head with a wince. “I don’t even recognize this place myself.”

I let out a disappointed sigh before I stood up, putting a hand on my hip, with my free one scratching my head, “Well if you don’t know anything, I guess we’re in a similar situation then. Do you think others might be here?” I ask as I took a quick glance at my surroundings.

The boy utters a ‘hm’ sound, before beginning to tap his chin. “Well, I don’t see why others wouldn't be here. I don’t really have enough info about our location to make an accurate guess, but there is a possibility,” he answers, removing said hand. “Although there’s just as much of a possibility we’re the only ones here. So, maybe.”

I shrug, “Well, I guess we’ll never know unless we find out for ourselves. Which means explorin’ this place.” I step to the side, “Aand there’s a lot of ground to cover too. Which I could get done in five seconds flat buuuuttt… I assume you’d want to come along too. Sooo, you comin'?" I ask, offering a hand to help him up.

The boy’s eyes widened in surprise, although I couldn’t quite pinpoint what he was surprised about. There was an awkward bit of silence between us, causing me to motion my hand a bit, expecting an answer. “O-oh, ah, yeah! I’ll come! I’ll come.” he stammered, probably flustered. He grabs my hand, allowing me to pull him up.

With him standing now, I could get a better look at the guy, and he seemed harmless enough. Nothing to be too suspicious about. He was an orange fox with round baby blue eyes, simply wearing a pair of gloves and red and white shoes. His ears were perked up, with three strands of hair propping up. But most interesting, was the existence of a second, fluffy tail. He noticed I was staring at him, causing him to become even more flustered and hide his tail by wrapping it around his other. I frowned at this action, why should he hide it? It was pretty cool! However, my displeased look caused him to be a bit more concerned, not really helping his situation.

In order to attempt what I assume was a change of conversation, he asked, “So, before we begin, what’s your name? I’d like to at least get to know your name if possible.” The fox twiddled his fingers, avoiding eye contact. This guy was too worried.

I gave him the biggest grin I could, placing my hand on my hip, using my free one to aim a finger gun at him, shooting him a wink. “I’m Sonic! Sonic the Hedgehog! They call me the Ultimate Trackstar, or alternatively, the fastest thing alive.” I then used the hand with the finger gun to wipe under my nose, pride was beaming from me.

Someone else seemed to be beaming too, as the fox was looking at me with stars in his eyes. “YOU’RE Sonic the hedgehog?!” he cried out in excitement. A single nod from me was all he needed to explode with excitement, “Oh my god it really is you! I can’t believe I didn’t recognize THE Blue Blur! You set so many olympic records, you can go faster than the speed of light! I know I’m an Ultimate too-” Ohhh he’s an Ultimate too? That’s fun! “-but I never thought I’d meet another one! Especially THE Sonic the Hedgehog!” He shook his head as he began to wave his hands. He seemed to forget hiding his extra tail too, as they both began to wag with joy.

I felt a toothy grin spread across my lips, “I see I’ve got a fan over here,” I remark. “You’re an Ultimate too, right?” I ask as I acknowledge his status as an Ultimate, “What’s your name kid?” I admittedly don’t really know the names of other Ultimates, due to not paying attention to the news that much. I know their talents I think, maybe! I at least know the sports Ultimates, just not their names, or what they look like.

The fox then composes himself, suddenly making his hands go still, leaving one to scratch his head. “O-Oh! Weelll… I am the Ultimate Mechanic!” he explains, before looking to the side and twiddling his fingers, “My name is a little embarrassing though, so I try to avoid mentioning it.”

I nod in acknowledgement, “Well what if I gave you a nickname then? To avoid saying that embarrassing name.”

He seemed to shoot up at that, “Sure! What did you have in mind though?”

I hum, as I inspected the fox’s appearance. The second tail still seemed to be unknowingly out here. As I made that observation though, it hit me. “I’ll call ya Tails!” I announce.

The fox then shrunk back, looking behind himself, his ears drooping when he saw two tails behind him. “So you saw,” he acknowledges, letting out a disappointing sigh.

I nod scratching my head, “Yeah I did. Why? What’s the matter?”

He pulled the second one in front of him, kneading the fluffy orange appendage, “It’s just... embarrassing. I guess. I don’t really want to talk about it…” he explains, trailing off as he looks to the side, avoiding eye contact.

I raise an eyebrow, before shaking my head. “Well I think it’s cool!” I remark, “But I can call you something else if you don’t like it.”

“No no! It’s fine! If you like them then Tails is fine! I’m sure I’ll grow into the nickname. It’s better than my actual name I think.” He explains, before uttering, “It’s the first time someone said my extra tail is cool anyways...”

“Yeah! It really is! I think you should proud of it.” I say, trying to encourage him.

He gives me a bashful smile, “O-okay. I’ll try… thank you Sonic,” he mutters.

I beam, motioning for him to join me, “Well then, Tails. What do you say about us going exploring for a bit now? We can tell more about each other while we’re exploring if you want.”

He gives a rapid nod in acknowledgement as he let go of his tail, “Yeah! Okay!” I notice he didn’t try to hide it this time, but seeming to keep it out for a bit. While he didn’t seem exactly too comfortable yet, judging by his lopsided, unsure grin that seemed to be a little forceful, it was a step in the right direction. He joined my side as we set foot across the grassy, wavy terrain, taking in whatever we could see.

#sonic the hedgehog #miles tails prower #live and learn kg #live and learn au #sonic au #fanganronpa #prologue act 1 #prologue

9 notes · View notes

imagineaworlds · 4 years ago

Text

I Love You (Part Twenty-Four) -- Aaron Hotchner

Written By: @desperately-bisexual

Request: None.

Warnings: Cursing. Mentions of smut. Mentions of Dom/sub relationship. Talk of murder, shooting. terrorism, mention of bombing-- literally everything Criminal Minds.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Greenaway!Reader

Word Count: 15467

Timeline: Season 3 Episode 20. Two months after part twenty-three.

It was a quiet morning at the office. At ten o’clock, we all gathered in the conference room to discuss cases, but before we could even sit down, JJ told us that there was nothing for our unit. It wasn’t entirely uncommon for this to happen, and it was always a relief because it meant that we would all get to go home early, which meant getting to see Jack sooner. With no paperwork to do, either we were all free to just wait around until something came about for us to do. That was the odd part. If we didn’t have a case, we at least had paperwork… but, nope. Honestly, if we wanted to, Hotch could just send us home for the day, but I think that all of us were still hoping that something interesting would come up. Also, what was the point in leaving if we could just be called back at any point? Might as well just stick around until three when I was supposed to pick Jack up from school.

While all of us were hanging out in the bullpen, JJ, Garcia, and Rossi with us, too, Hotch was up in his office. His door was closed, the blinds were tilted slightly, yet I could still catch a glimpse of him talking with someone on the phone. He seemed worried. He wasn’t pacing the width of his office quite yet, but he was tapping his fountain pen against his desk as fast as he could in order to keep his anxious body up with his racing mind. No one else seemed to notice, though—probably because they didn’t want to know if it had to do with a case yet. We were all content with just sitting around, chatting and laughing. If a case came up, so be it. If a case didn’t come up, that would be a miracle we would happily take.

“Do you think it’s about those shootings in New York?” I finally asked, turning my attention away from Hotch’s office long enough to gauge the team’s reactions to my question.

It had been on my mind for the past few days since we first heard about it on the news. The FBI hadn’t been called in to investigate the crimes yet, but we were all keeping tabs on it to see if it would get worse. There had been five shootings in the past two weeks, each of them in public spaces, but no witnesses. No one could describe the Unsub, let alone describe what happened It was like a ghost was shooting random civilians in the streets. Yet the NYPD was convinced that the incidences were all unrelated. Considering New York’s rising crime rates, it was a fair assumption, I supposed, but with five murders with the same M.O., our team was starting to raise brows and ask if the NYPD was ever going to call someone in for an outside perspective.

“Why would you think that?” Rossi asked. “Has Hotch said something about it at home?”

I shook my head. “We haven’t talked about it at all.”

“So, then, maybe it’s nothing.”

I looked back up at Hotch’s office, keenly aware that it wasn’t nothing. Something was wrong, it was just a matter of what. Perhaps it had to do with Haley, or Jack, or the Director, or another case he was just learning about. But if it were a case, wouldn’t it have gone through JJ first? It must have been personal, then, which meant that I would hear about it from him sooner than later. There was nothing to be worried about right now.

And then he stood from his desk and hung up the phone. Everyone seemed to be watching him with me now, trying to figure out if either Rossi or I were correct. Hotch grabbed his cell, a few files from his desk, and hurried to his door. The second it was open, he caught us all watching him, but he didn’t waver.

“Conference room,” he ordered, still making his way there.

We all leapt to our feet and scurried together towards the boardroom. “My money’s on New York,” I whispered to Rossi.

“I’ll take that bet.”

Hotch was standing at the monitor, the remote in his hand as he pulled up the news. When it was on, I heard Rossi sigh disappointedly. I grinned and elbowed his side playfully. Maybe he shouldn’t have actually taken that deal. The news was already talking about yet another shooting in New York, this time at a subway station in the middle of the night. No witnesses. No evidence. No leads. It was amazing that we were being called in this late.

“Don’t sit,” Hotch said. “We won’t be here long. We’ve been called in to help the NYPD with the random shootings.” Finally. “We’ll debrief more on the plane, but for now, what you need to know is that the police have eliminated any connections to organized crime, terrorism, or vendettas. There are no ties between any of the victims, and all of their records are clean. We’re looking at a randomized killer. He does the same thing every time. He keeps his head down, hood on, hands covered to hide his skin color. He shoots the victims quickly as he’s walking and doesn’t look back.” Hotch turned off the TV. “Wheels up in twenty. Garcia—” She looked up at the mention of her name, shocked that she was being addressed during a meeting she technically wasn’t even supposed to be at. “You’re coming with us.”

“Sir—”

“See you all on the jet.” Hotch collected his things again and pushed past the team to make his way back to his office so that he could grab his go-bag.

The rest of us were left in the boardroom, glancing between each other, waiting for someone to make the first move. It was odd that we weren’t even taking the time to sit down and discuss more of the case first. I mean, what happened to the case going through JJ, talking about it as a team in the boardroom, then discussing more on the jet, and so on? Why go to Hotch first and why was he in such a rush?

I made the first move, rushing back down to my desk in the bullpen to call Jessica to see if she could pick up Jack, and then text Haley to let her know that we wouldn’t be back for a bit. Jessica said she was fine with picking up Jack, and when I texted Haley, she thanked me for letting her know. She also told me to keep an eye on Aaron and to call Jack when we were at the hotel. When that was sorted, I grabbed my go-bag from under my desk and walked with the rest of the team out of the building.

When we got on the jet, Hotch immediately called for us to huddle up and start discussing the case. Since it had come through him, Hotch knew the most about the case. He knew what the cops had done for the investigation, he knew the victimology, the M.O., the possible leads, everything. We were just there to play catch up and then try to give what insight we could before landing in New York.

“Each victim was killed in a different neighborhood. There was no relation with their homes, their jobs, their hobbies, or so on. No similar physical or personality traits, according to the victims’ friends and family.”

“What leads do they have that they haven’t told the press about?” I asked.

“None,” Hotch shook his head. “Agent Kate Joyner has been leading the FBI-NYPD joint task force—”

“The FBI’s been involved with this already?” Morgan interrupted.

“Pretty much since the beginning. Kate called for our help after the sixth murder last night, though.”

“Wait. Kate Joyner?” Rossi clarified. “Isn’t she the agent from Interpole we gained a few years back?”

“I heard she can be a bit of a pain in the ass,” Morgan chuckled.

“I didn’t think so. We worked together back in the day when she was still working for Scotland Yard,” Hotch admitted.

“You… worked together?” Emily raised a brow. None of us were aware that Hotch had ever liaised with Scotland Yard before. One would think that I would have known about that. “When?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Hotch deflected. “Let’s just focus on the case, please. She’s leading the case, we’re just there to profile. So, just… follow her lead on this one.”

‘Follow her lead’? We never followed anyone’s lead. We worked with other units, SWAT, and the local police departments that needed our help; but the only person we directly answered to was Hotch. Why was he changing that for this girl, Kate? What was more concerning to me was that Hotch knew who this woman was—they were clearly friends at one point or another, and I had never even heard of her. It was like Hotch covered up this entire part of his life that I didn’t know about. Like, when the hell did he go to England? When did he meet Kate? How long did they work together?

I took a breath to relax. I didn’t need to get caught up in my thoughts. The reality was that Hotch and Haley had been together since high school. He loved Haley with everything he had while they were still together. He would have never cheated on her, just as he would never cheat on me— though I couldn’t say she didn’t show him the same courtesy, but that was a theory for another time. Hotch was probably just old friends with this Kate lady, just as he was old friends with Rossi. There was nothing to be suspicious of, and there was definitely nothing to be jealous of. I just needed to remind myself that this was about a case, nothing else.

When we arrived at the New York field office, we headed up to Kate’s unit’s floor. She was supposedly waiting for us up there with the two lead detectives from the NYPD who were assigned to this case, too. On the way up, Hotch seemed nervous and fidgety, which certainly wasn’t like him. I mean, I knew from Rossi that Hotch used to be like that, so maybe it was just habits of seeing an old friend again; but it was still unsettling to see that he was so wrapped up in the thought of seeing Kate that he wasn’t even making eye contact with any of us or trying to tell me and Morgan that we needed to be on our best behavior.

Once the elevator doors were open, Hotch stepped out, leading us all into the office in search of Kate and the detectives. We looked around, taking in how big the office was. This unit that the FBI had given Kate was ridiculous. I mean, the BAU was considerably big, but this was almost twice that, and everyone was running around, busy with work around the case.

My shoulders fell and I stopped in place when I saw a woman approaching us with a smile on her face. That was definitely Kate, there was no doubt about it… She was gorgeous. She walked so smoothly, but still held a poise that commanded everyone’s reluctant respect. And when she saw Hotch, her smile grew even more.

“Aaron,” she welcomed with open arms.

“Kate,” he smiled back, accepting her hug.

My eyes stayed glued to them and their embrace, despite the fact that the rest of the team was glancing between them and me. ‘Aaron’? ‘Kate’? ‘Aaron’… I was still trying to convince myself that it was nothing, and I shouldn’t have to be that petty person who got all jealous suddenly without an explanation. It was nothing, right? Just two old friends reuniting… Two friends that happened to hug a little longer than necessary and then stare into each other’s eyes as they parted— Oh, my fucking god.

JJ linked her arm with mine and pulled me close. “Is it just me or does she look exactly like Haley?”

Oh, boy, I was relieved that I wasn’t the only one who took notice. I thought I was going fucking crazy. Kate’s blonde hair, her small nose, her brown eyes, her tight lips, her short height, her tall posture… She was a mirror image of Haley… Just… British. It was so odd. I hadn’t anticipated that I’d be meeting Haley’s doppelganger. I mean, I never even expected to meet Haley in the first place, but now there were two of her. What the hell was I supposed to do with that?

I remembered how I tried to convince myself on the plane that there was no chance in hell that Hotch would have cheated on Haley, but when I saw Kate, I realized that it was entirely possible. If he really spent a long time in England, then he probably ended up missing Haley a lot… With someone around him who looked eerily similar to the wife he missed so much, if there was a night with one too many drinks or something, it was entirely possible that something happened between them.

I felt so stupid. I wasn’t a jealous person, and I certainly wasn’t one to speculate about Hotch’s past. We had both done things that we weren’t proud of. We had done things that we just hadn’t gotten around to discussing yet. But all the signs seemed to be there. But the worst part was that it pointed to the fact that Hotch seemed to have a type… A type that I didn’t amount to. I felt my self-confidence crash just by looking at Kate.

“Kate, this is my team. David Rossi, Derek Morgan, Spencer, Reid, Emily Prentiss, Jennifer Jareau, Penelope Garcia, and—” Hotch hesitated when his eyes met mine. “And… Y/N Greenaway.” He must have recognized that the wheels in my mind were turning, and I was working overtime to understand what was going on. He must have also recognized my shyness and the way I didn’t wave or smile at Kate politely.

“Thank you all for being here.” Kate smiled less now, like she was just trying to be courteous compared to her genuine happiness in seeing Hotch for the first time in years. “If you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to ask. For now, I believe that accommodations have been made for your technical analyst to review the city’s security footage. The rest of you, these are Detectives Brustin and Cooper,” Kate gestured to the two men standing to her left. They nodded and smiled shortly, seemingly less than impressed with our appearance. “I’ll leave you all to discuss the case with them. All I ask is that you run everything by me first. It’s been my experiences that having one butt on the line is enough.”

Detective Brustin rolled his eyes and mocked Kate's accent, “Yes, ma’am.”

Kate tried to ignore his rudeness after stepping closer to Hotch to whisper something. “Is there a chance we could talk privately before you go running off?”

“Yeah,” Hotch nodded with a whisper. They waited for a moment, their faces close together, their eyes searching each other’s.

As they walked off together, Emily and Garcia shuffled over to me and JJ.

“They, um,” Emily cleared her throat, “liaised together.”

“I don’t understand,” I admitted quietly, my go-bag falling to the ground. The girls’ grins disappeared in an instant when they realized that I wasn’t taking it all as a joke. “I thought I was the only one besides Haley…” My eyes followed Kate and Hotch as they walked into her office. She leaned against her desk, crossing her arms a little too tightly over her chest. Hotch didn’t sit or keep his distance. My breath hitched as he stood just in front of her, their knees practically touching. “They were high school sweethearts,” I continued to explain about Haley and Hotch. “I didn’t think that there was any point where they weren’t together before their divorce.” I looked over at Morgan, who had turned away from Rossi, Reid, and the detectives to pay attention to our conversation. “What did I miss?” I practically asked him directly, my eyes pouting.

“Hey,” Rossi called us all over. I broke away from my trance long enough to grab my go-bag from the floor and walk over with the team. “Morgan and I will go with Detective Brustin to the latest crime scene, find out what we can about this guy. The rest of you will stay here to help Reid look at the geographical information and start building the profile.”

“And Hotch?” Morgan asked.

Everyone looked back over at Kate’s office.

“Hotch… He seems a little busy. Just catch him up with your work here when you’re done.” Rossi avoided making eye contact with me as he turned back to the team. “Get to work.”

We all dispersed. Morgan, Rossi, and Brustin headed for the elevators; meanwhile, Emily, JJ, and I went with Reid to the boardroom we were given to work in. While they all got to work, I sat down at the table in the middle of the room and spun around in my chair to face Kate’s office. Her and Hotch were still talking privately, but his demeanor had changed entirely. He was a few steps away from her now, his arms crossed over his chest, his back towards her. We both stared at each other for a quick moment before he looked away.

Suddenly, Hotch was moving towards her door. They were finishing up. I pushed myself out of my seat and quietly hurried over to the door of Kate’s office. Hotch was wrapping up their conversation, though he was switching his gaze towards me every other step I made towards him. When I was within reach of him, he closed Kate’s office door behind him.

“We need to talk,” I said, grabbing his hand and pulling him to the side of the room. I let go of his hand and turned back to face him with crossed arms. “I’m not a jealous person, Hotch. I never have been, and I don’t plan on starting now. I think it’s stupid and I think that we’re both mature enough to not run into any problems when it comes to any past relationships. But I need to know something, and I need you to be honest with me.” He nodded. “Were you and Kate ever together in any way?”

Hotch wrinkled his brows together and shook his head before chuckling at me like the question was unwarranted and unexpected. What else did he expect? Kate looked exactly like his ex-wife, and they hugged— something Hotch hardly did with anyone other than me— and they talked privately, and he was smiling at her, and laughing with her, and… Shit. I told him I wasn’t jealous, and I swore to myself that I wasn’t, but… Fuck. I didn’t know what else to think. Something happened between them and I wanted to know what. Not because I wanted to find reasons to be more jealous or protective because I knew that he would never cheat on me, but because… Well… I wasn’t entirely sure. But, dammit, I wanted to know.

“Kate and I are just friends,” he insisted. “We never did anything.” I cocked a brow at him, and he rolled his eyes slightly. “We never kissed, we never held hands, we never… did anything. Nothing. We’re just friends. I promise.”

I nodded. I felt like such an idiot. This wasn’t who I was. Hotch and I were both grown, mature people who loved each other more than anything. Even if something did happen, it would have been a long time ago, and it wouldn’t have affected our relationship. I was just relieved to know the truth, even though I felt like a total jealous moron.

“I’m glad you asked me, though,” he complimented with a smile. I looked up at him as he continued. “I’d rather you ask than silently get jealous over nothing and turn it into a thing.”

I knew in my mind that if Hotch truly did love me— which, of course, I knew that he did— then there was absolutely nothing to worry about. Hearing him say it to my face reassured me that all I needed to know was the truth, straight from his mouth, and I could move on and do my job. Like he said, there was no reason to ponder in silence and let jealousy build for no reason. Him and Kate were friends. I had to trust that. Hotch promised once that he would never lie to me, so if he said that there was no history between them, then there wasn’t. I believed him.

“I love you,” I whispered.

“I love you, too.” He grabbed my left hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Thank you. Seriously.” And then his phone started ringing. We both sighed at the ruined moment as he dug it out of his pocket. “Hotchner,” he said into it while still staring at me. “Alright. We’ll be there soon.” He hung up just as quickly as he answered. “Morgan says that there’s been another murder a few blocks from where him, Rossi, and the detectives are.”

“Let’s go,” I said quietly, turning away from him.

He held my hand tighter and pulled me back to face him. “We’re okay, right?”

I nodded. “I trust you, Hotch. If you say nothing happened, then nothing happened. I’m not going to question that.”

He searched my eyes for a moment. “Thank you.”

“You’ve gotta think of a more creative way of saying ‘thank you’ at some point.” I smirked, turning away from him again so that we could head down to the car, but he didn’t follow me like I expected. He was smiling at me, but he was waiting for an opportunity to go tell Kate about the new crime scene. Right. I forgot. Kate. Just as soon as I grew jealous of her, I had entirely forgotten about her. “Go,” I told him. “I’ll meet you in the car.”

He silently hurried off to her office to let her know. I rolled my eyes to myself and made my way to the elevators. I wasn’t jealous. I trusted Hotch. I loved Hotch. He made a promise to me a couple of months ago that he would never lie to me ever again. He looked me in the eye and told me that we would never hold secrets back. I asked Hotch straight up if him and Kate were involved, and he told me that they never were. I had to believe him. I did believe him. They were friends, just like he said. And he was only going to tell her because she was still the lead on this case, and she had asked us to keep her updated on any new developments. It made sense. I shouldn’t have been pondering it too long.

When they got to the car together, Hotch took the front seat with me, while Kate took the back. At least that didn’t change. I drove us down to the crime scene with Hotch’s navigation help. It was somewhat out there for us, but just like Hotch said, it wasn’t far from the other crime scene that Morgan and Rossi were looking at. But the scene had already been taped off, which made traffic horrible, and it was nearly impossible to get into our own damn crime scene. From the backseat, Kate had to argue with two different police officers about letting us in before Rossi finally noticed us from the street corner and waved us through.

“It’s definitely our guy,” Brustin said. “Same M.O. Middle of the day, random, no pattern in victimology, hurried off before anyone could get a good look at him.”

“There wasn’t a single witness?” I asked while getting out of the car. We were on a busy street corner. Hell, the cops were having trouble holding back the crowds. How did no one see a guy shoot someone in the middle of the day on a busy road in fucking New York?

Brustin shook his head. “Nothing.”

“Y/N, go talk with Rossi to catch up on what he knows,” Hotch ordered me.

Brustin squinted, almost like he was offended by that command. To be fair, the way Hotch phrased it made it sound like he didn’t trust Brustin or Cooper and what conclusions they had come to. While we obviously still held our team’s intuition to a higher standard and were more likely to trust what our friends would tell us, Hotch’s order was still offensive to the detective, and I didn’t blame him for feeling that way. That being said, I didn’t argue with him either. I nodded and walked up to Rossi, who was standing over the body.

“Seven murders and he’s finally communicating with us,” Rossi told me, handing me an evidence bag.

I looked down at what was inside the clear bag while raising a curious brow. It was a Tarot card— specifically the card for Death. If the title on the bottom of the card wasn’t obvious enough, the artwork of Death riding a rose that was trampling over a king was a sure tell of what was going on. But why do this now? Why send us a message after so many deaths? It didn’t make sense. It didn’t fit the M.O. Realistically, the obvious answer was that the Unsub was trying to tell us that he saw himself as Death. He viewed what he was doing as an act of defiance against a higher power, which would be the king in reference to the card, but outside of that, it could have been a number of things. This could have been personally or politically motivated, but it was unlikely that these killings were sadistic or sexual. We didn’t need a card to tell us that. These shootings were long distance kills. There was no satisfaction that came from them, especially with how fast the Unsub was fleeing the scene. But toying with us because he knew that the FBI was involved now… That changed how we were building the profile. It meant that this probably wasn’t personally motivated, which left politics.

“Are we absolutely sure that this is the same guy?” I asked Rossi. He looked confused, like he didn’t understand where I was coming from. I decided to clarify. “Sure, the M.O. is the same, but this card changes everything. Why would he deviate from what he knows?”

“To tell us that he knows we’re here.”

“Obviously. But why does he care? The killings are signal enough. Why communicate like this?”

“Maybe Reid will figure something out.” Rossi shrugged.

I nodded an agreement. Something was different about this whole crime scene compared to the last ones. Despite how rushed they seemed, they were still more… I don’t know, organized in some way. Before, the Unsub was waiting until the target was alone to shoot them. But this was the middle of the day, around hundreds of witnesses. And the change in M.O. almost made the scene feel sloppy, in some way. As much as I hated to admit it, Reid could possibly give us some insight into the card, or maybe Garcia would be able to find something on the street cameras. Either way, we were stuck where we were. Those who were still at the office would be more helpful.

The drive back to the office was slower. It felt like going down to the crime scene in the first place was a waste of our time. Maybe that was the purpose of the shootings. It was possible that the Unsubs were doing this just to lead us around on a wild goose chase while they were working on something bigger. If that were true, however, then what was the bigger picture? Why string along the police and the FBI rather than just go for it. Like 9/11, they could have gone for the big one first. Why this? Why make us run around?

None of my questions seemed answered by the time we got back to the field office. Kate and Hotch were trying to run through some theories, but I had tried to focus on putting the clues together myself. Unfortunately, that didn’t seem to help. We got out of the car, and we were walking in, but I had nothing to contribute to their conversation. I think my silence was noted by Hotch, but he didn’t say anything to me about it.

As we waited for the elevator, Rossi, Morgan, and Brustin met up with us. They all started talking with Hotch and Kate about hypotheses, but I still didn’t get it. My whole “thing” was taking a quick look at something and being able to put it together with a snap of my fingers. I liked that it was my thing. Sometimes it meant that I would come to conclusions faster than Reid, and that was always a win in my book. But this case. These crime scenes. This Unsub. None of it was adding up, and I hated that I was falling short.

The elevator doors opened to Kate’s floor and we all stepped out.

“What do you have?” Hotch asked after noticing how Reid, Emily, and JJ were all crowded around a computer.

JJ looked up at us shortly before returning her gaze to the computer. “Garcia sent us the latest shooting.”

Emily played the video for us as we all gathered around them. Kate pushed herself between me and Hotch, earning a slight scoff from me and Morgan as we were shoved around. I rolled my eyes slightly, then looked down at the computer. As the footage played, we saw our victim, still unidentified, hailing for a cab with a hot dog in hand. Classic New York. A few moments later, just as a taxi was pulling up, a hooded man walked up with a gun in hand, shot the victim in the back of his head, and hurried off in a sprint.

I cocked a brow. That wasn’t very nonchalant of the Unsub. His whole thing was making this as casual as possible. So now, not only did he break M.O. by shooting with witnesses around, then leaving a card to taunt us, but now he was racing away? It didn’t feel like our guy, if I were being honest. Maybe it was a copycat, or maybe this was just another random shooting like New York saw all the time. Since we hadn’t identified the victim yet, it was possible that this was a gang hit, or maybe a hire to kill situation, or something along those lines. But it didn’t match up with our Unsub.

“Garcia says that they’re different heights, too,” Reid told us while Emily played back the video footage of the first shooting. Again, the differences were standing out. It was so obvious. “And their body types are different.”

“We’ve got more than one Unsub,” Hotch sighed, putting a palm on his forehead.

That changed our entire profile. We weren’t dealing with one guy who was politically motivated anymore. We were dealing with a duo who were trying to make a point of something. Duos were always easy to profile, though, which was a relief. In every duo case, there was a dominant and a submissive. Much like mine and Hotch’s relationship, the dominant had control over the submissive, but their connection and attraction was through their crimes— which, obvious, wasn’t like me and Hotch at all. The question in this case was which of them was the submissive and which of them was the dominant? Based on behaviors, it seemed like the first Unsub, the one who had performed the first six kills, was relaxed during the whole endeavor, which meant that he had confidence about what he was doing. On the other hand, the last kill was sloppy and rushed. If I were to guess, I would’ve said that the first Unsub was the dominant. He wanted to perform the murders because he got the most enjoyment out of them and because he knew how to do it properly; whereas the second Unsub, the submissive, seemed less sure about what to do and if doing it was right at all.

The big question now that the dominant/submissive profile was built was… why? Why were they doing this? My original hypothesis based on deductions formed around the profile of one Unsub told me that this was related to politics, but a duo killing at random changed things… And why would the submissive leave the Tarot card at the crime scene?

“Until we know why we’re doing this, we can’t get ahead of them,” Morgan said. “I think that we should get out on the streets. Increase police presence to force them into hiding while we try to build a stronger profile.”

“I only brought you here to create a profile, Agent Morgan. I don’t need your advice about what to do on the streets,” Kate responded calmly, though there was a bite to her words.

Morgan shifted on his feet. “I understand that, Agent Joyner, and we’ll have the profile ready in the morning. However, I think that based on the profile we have as of now, the smart thing to do would be to—”

“I still didn’t ask, Agent Morgan. Thank you, but I won’t be tiring out our forces just for an overnight shift.”

“They’re targeting areas like 14th Street, 42nd, 59th, 63rd—”

“Morgan,” Hotch interrupted, “it’s not your call.”

Morgan glanced between me and Hotch, as though I’d give him backup on this. I didn’t know what to say or do, though. None of us did. The whole team was just standing there, listening to Morgan and Kate’s back and forth, and Hotch, with his boss tone, had to step in to diffuse the tension. I didn’t need to get mixed up in it. I didn’t need to choose between my best friend and my boyfriend. Hotch was right that this wasn’t Morgan’s call. We were asked in by Kate to consult, that was all. He tried to tell Kate what he thought was right, and if she didn’t want to hear it, then that was her choice. He didn’t need to argue with her about it.

“Take a walk for a bit,” Hotch offered quietly.

Morgan stared at me. “You’re not going to say anything?”

“Morgan—” I tried to explain, but he threw his hands up like he didn’t want to hear it, and he walked off.

I sighed, taking a defeated step back. Hotch and Kate both looked at me, but I didn’t look at them. Instead, I told Emily to play the two videos again so that we could get back to work. Morgan clearly didn’t want me to chase after him, so I wasn’t going to. Even though it made me feel like shit. If we were going to get these guys before they could kill again, then we needed to ignore distractions for a bit. I’d apologize to Morgan later. It would probably be a nasty argument, but I think he’d understand that I wasn’t about to choose between them while in front of the team and Kate. I wouldn’t choose between them anyhow. That wasn’t fair of him.

“I can’t stare at this any longer,” Emily sighed, giving up while moving out of the seat in front of the computer.

Hotch stood tall and crossed his arms. “We’re not finding anything new. I think it’s fair to say we’re all worn out after the long day we’ve had.” He looked to Kate, “I think it’s time to call it a night.”

She nodded. “Fair enough.”

“We’ll come back at seven in the morning to give our profile.”

Kate reached out for a hug to say goodnight, but Hotch dodged it just to give her a handshake. She awkwardly accepted his hand, then Hotch ordered the team to move out. Rossi and I exchanged a glance which said: “What the fuck?” as we all headed towards the elevators.

We all grabbed our go-bags from the trunks of our cars before heading into the hotel for the night. Emily, JJ, and Reid were talking ahead about the profile, meanwhile Morgan and Hotch were hanging back with me in silence. The three of us didn’t know what to say to each other. Morgan probably still felt stung by the fact that Hotch took Kate’s side and that I didn’t do anything to stand up for him. To be fair, though, Morgan was a big boy, and he could handle himself. He knew that he overstepped with Kate. He didn’t need me.

“JJ,” Reid croaked, coming to a stop.

I nearly ran into him when I noticed what he saw. The rest of the team took notice just as quickly, but we all stayed frozen in the lobby. JJ, however, perked up and hurried over to the lounge where Will was sitting, reading an article in the newspaper about the shootings we were working on. When he noticed that we were all standing there, he jumped to his feet so that he could hug JJ, who was running at him with full speed and force.

“What are you doing here?” she asked him as they parted.

“I tried goin’ to D.C., but when that didn’ work out, I took a train here to come see ya.” He bit his lip as he stared at her.

He was so in love with her. I wasn’t sure if anyone else could tell, or if even JJ and Will were aware, but he was absolutely head over heels for her. I could see it. I knew it because it was the same way Hotch looked at me. He looked at her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered, and that nothing could change the way he felt about her. She was one of the lucky ones. I hoped that she knew that.

“Detective,” Hotch greeted, sticking his hand out for Will after we all approached cautiously.

Will shook Hotch’s hand politely. “I’m sorry for showin’ up like this. I know that y’all are working. But, um…” He hesitated as he looked back at JJ. “I can’t stand you being on this case with what’s goin’ on.”

I furrowed my brows and looked at Hotch. Did he know what was going on and elected not to tell the team because JJ asked him not to? Telling by how confused he seemed, I could tell that he didn’t know what Will meant either. Especially when he asked, “Is there a problem?”

JJ slowly turned to face all of us. She gulped as she found the courage for what she wanted to say. “I’m pregnant.”

“And I’ve asked JJ to marry me,” he said to Hotch.

Hotch smiled and shook Will’s hand again. “Congratulations.”

My eyes brightened as I threw my arms around JJ after Emily hugged her. I whispered a thousand congratulations in her ear. This was great news. We needed some good news, especially with how messy and dark our jobs were. A bright light like a baby was a gift and a half for us. I was so happy for her. While I didn’t realize that they were that serious, that didn’t stop me from hugging JJ as tight as I could and telling her that I was so excited for her and Will.

“We’ll give you two some privacy to sort things out, then,” Hotch said after JJ and I parted.

“Thank you, Hotch,” JJ said, hugging him shortly.

He smiled politely, but not like he was genuinely happy like the rest of us. He turned away to head for the elevators, and I started following him like it was an obligation, but JJ chased after him. When his attention was caught, he turned back to her and huffed, “You could have told me, JJ.”

“I know, Hotch,” she told him with lowered shoulders. “But you and Y/N—” She stopped herself. “I heard about what happened in St. Louis, and I didn’t want to… I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

I stiffened slightly. St. Louis felt like a lifetime ago. Back then, Hotch and I talked about having kids and if it were realistic for us. It turned into us having a string of arguments about it over the few days we were there, and, ultimately, I gave up because he seemed adamant on not talking about kids. He didn’t want to talk about it, let alone come to a conclusion, so I decided that he meant he didn’t want to have kids. At least not with me. And while that broke my heart into a million pieces, he tried to apologize and explain to me that he was just scared— but all that told me was that he was scared of having kids with me.

JJ had stumbled into the room while we were having one of those arguments, but I thought that she didn’t hear anything or forgot about it entirely. I never thought in a million years that she would have kept something like this from us because she was worried about stirring up more arguments between me and Hotch. Of course I was excited for her. I thought Hotch would be, too… And maybe he was, but at the moment, he just looked disappointed that she felt like she couldn’t tell him what was going on. Even worse, she didn’t tell him, and he was letting her come out into the field, which wasn’t safe. He probably felt like shit. Meanwhile, I felt like shit because she felt like she couldn’t come to me, a friend, because she didn’t want her pregnancy to impact my relationship? What kind of sense did that make? Hotch and I were our own people. We made our own choices. If we fought, we fought. Fighting was healthy. Talking about our future was good. She shouldn’t have been afraid to talk to me. I was a horrible friend…

“We’ll see you in the morning,” Hotch said to her before turning again.

JJ and I stared at each other for a moment. We both looked sorry. “I’m so happy for you, JJ. He’ll come around. I promise.” I squeezed her shoulder quickly, then ran after Hotch who was holding the elevator for me.

When the elevator doors closed, Hotch snaked his arm around my waist and pulled me towards him so that our hips were touching. As I smiled lightly and hugged him by putting my palm on his chest, he kissed my temple and whispered that he loved me.

At our room, I sighed as I closed the door behind us. It had been an incredibly long day, but the good news we just received in the lobby made up for most of it. Hotch set his briefcase down on the desk, and I put my purse beside it. We both sighed again as we put our go-bags on the floor, then sat on the edge of the bed. I pulled off my shoes while he stared at the window for a bit. When my feet were finally free, I reached down to grab my pajamas from my go-bag. I started getting dressed as the deafening silence hung in the air.

“Do you ever think about it still?” Hotch asked, pulling off his shoes one at a time. I raised a brow. “Having kids, I mean. I know that we talked about it in St. Louis, and we said that we’d hold out, but… are there ever times when you think about it… or maybe… I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Regret the choice we made?”

I shook my head. “Not really. I mean, I know that we’ll talk about it again when we’re ready.”

“What if we’re ready now?”

I paused and looked at him. I asked myself what he meant by that, and if it was really what I thought it meant. I mean, there were a thousand different things he could have been insinuating, but I was scared to guess which one, or to take the words out of his mouth. We were obviously happy for JJ and Will, and baby fever was obviously a real thing, but I didn’t think that Hotch would ever let it get to him like this.

“I mean, would you even want to get married? I know that we said we’d wait to have kids for when it would make the most sense for us; and don’t you think that getting married first—”

“Aaron.”

I froze after saying his name to let the silence sit. I didn’t have to think about it. I knew what my answer would have been if he actually got around to asking me to marry him. Of course I’d marry him in a heartbeat. I would do the whole lavish wedding, or I’d do a spur of the moment, Vegas shotgun wedding where an Elvis Presley impersonator officiated it. I would have literally done anything to marry Aaron Hotchner. Whatever he wanted, I wanted. If he wanted to run away to Fiji and get married there, I would have booked the first flight. If he wanted to wait the appropriate two year engagement period, then have a wedding in a huge venue with all of our friends and family, I would have started saving up the money.

I didn’t need to think about marrying Hotch. I didn’t even need to think about having kids with him. He was the one in St. Louis who got all uptight about the prospect of it when I brought it up. If he thought that we were ready to get married and to have kids, then I was ready to ask him what the hell took him so long to come around.

“If you’d ever ask,” I began quietly, “I’d say yes.” I tied my hair back out of my face as I continued getting ready for bed, trying to break the tension in the room. I could tell that his eyes were following me, but I didn’t stop to take note. “But you can only ask if you do it properly and not while we’re on a case. Never, ever on a case. Do you hear me, Agent Hotchner?” I stopped long enough to see that he was grinning ear to ear while nodding. “Good.” I smirked as I headed towards the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face.

Hotch jumped up from the bed, took his shirt off, and joined me in the bathroom to get ready for bed, too. We both started with brushing our teeth, and nothing was said between us. I kept catching him watching me through the mirror, and I rolled my eyes a few times at him. His question was still echoing through my mind, and I was sure that my answer was racing through him. I loved him more than anything. Truly. But there were times when I’d ask myself why he would look at me like that. I always wondered a lot if St. Louis was proof of some kind that Hotch and I were ultimately doomed to fail, but then he brought up kids and marriage again tonight, and I knew that he meant it. But why?

I finished brushing my teeth and washing my face long before him, somehow. Still facing the mirror, my eyes avoiding his reflection, I spoke up with, “Can I ask you something?” Hotch’s reflection stared at me for a moment before he nodded slightly. “Why me?”

“I don’t understand.”

My gaze fell to the faucet in front of me. “I mean, why… why me, Aaron? What’s so… I don’t know… appealing about me…”

Truth was, since first laying eyes on Kate, I couldn’t get over the fact that Hotch obviously had a type. Despite his insistence that nothing happened between them, there was still no denying that at one point or another, they had a spark, and some of that chemistry was still there. I asked myself that if I didn’t know Hotch, or if we weren’t dating, would he be with Kate? She looked so much like Haley, just like everyone had been whispering about all day. The fact that they had chemistry and she resembled his ex-wife, that would have been reason enough for him to seek her out once he was no longer with Haley, right? I mean, if I weren’t in the picture, maybe it would be her in the hotel room with him and not me.

I just didn’t understand how he could have a clear type, and then somehow end up with me. I tried to not be an insecure person considering I needed to have enough self-confidence to work in the field I was in, to take the chance of dating my boss, to bite back at Morgan and Reid playfully, and to stand up to Strauss when she was a pain in my ass. I needed to believe in myself or else I would fail in my career and personal life. But I was human, and sometimes I would look in the mirror, like I was doing just then, and I’d ask myself what Hotch saw in me. Why did he choose me? Why did he spend years silently passing by my office just to smile at me when he was married or, afterwards, when he could have had anyone else? Why me? What was so amazing about me that he could look me in the eyes and tell me that he loved me every day?

“Look at me,” he told me as he dropped his hairbrush on the counter. I reluctantly faced him. “I came alive when I finally met you. I saw colors for the first time. I could hear things I couldn’t hear before. I could feel things that I could never feel before. I look at you, and I see a lifetime of happiness waiting for me in your arms. When you first told me you love me, I could feel my heart restarting in my chest. I have lost a lot, Y/N… but meeting you… loving you… It’s the one constant I know I will have for the rest of my life. Every morning, I wake up and I look at you, and I think to myself that I got so damn lucky to find someone like you who loves me for me, while still encouraging me to do more, learn more, be more. I ask myself how anyone could come into my mess of a life and somehow choose to stick around, but somehow you do it. You continue to amaze me every single day when I see you at work, doing what you love, saving people’s lives. My heart melts every time I see you with Jack. My knees buckle every time you tell me you love me, and I swear I could listen to it forever.” He stepped closer to me and put his palms on my cheeks. “I look at you and I fall in love with you over and over again. I hold you in my arms and I think to myself that I should never let go because I’m so afraid that if I do, I might lose you somehow— and the thought of not getting to look at you every day, to hold you in my arms, to kiss your lips—” he dragged his thumb over my bottom lip— “to tell you that I love you every chance I can get… The thought of not having that with you because I might fuck something up… It terrifies me. You are the one person in the world who gets me. That’s why it’s you. That’s why it will always be you. You once told me that you’d never stop fighting for me, is that still true?” I nodded, pressing into his touch lovingly. “I knew the day I met you that I would do anything for you. I know that I’ll always fight for you. I know that I’d even die for you. That’s why.”

Before I could respond, Hotch leaned in close and kissed me with a fiery passion that expressed every word he just said to me in a way that both of us could feel. It was almost like his words were echoing through my body. I felt electric and on fire, all at the same time. I felt his love, warmth, and compassion with every second that passed by. Everything he said to me finally made sense when he kissed me, because I remembered that what he said was just as true for me as it was for him.

I loved Aaron Hotchner so much that it hurt sometimes. There were times when I would look at him and I would nearly cry because I was so happy, because I was so in love. No one had ever loved me like he did, and no one took the time to tell me why. Most people would have brushed off my question or allowed it to spiral into an argument because they couldn’t actually think of something to say. But not Hotch. He knew exactly what to say.

I jumped onto my tip toes and started kissing him harder to let him know that I heard him, I believed him, and I felt it all for him, too. I’d fight and die for him. I loved him more than anything in the world. Nothing made me feel more alive than kissing him. Nothing made me feel more at home than his arms. Nothing was more loving and comforting than the way he said that he loved me. The tug in my chest towards his heart skipped a beat as I thought it. I loved him. I loved him so much. I couldn’t think about anything else but how much I loved him. There weren’t enough ways to tell him just how much I loved him. The words didn’t exist, and even if they did, I didn’t have enough time in life to tell him every piece of it. There were a million and one reasons to love Aaron Hotchner, but I loved him for a billion different reasons.

Hotch lifted me off the ground. I wrapped my legs around his hips, and with my sudden height over him, I used it to dominate our kiss shortly. He set me down on the counter and pushed me away with a gentle hand on my neck. “You meant it, baby?” he asked me quietly, pressing his forehead to mine. “You’d say yes?” He was so stupid sometimes, I swear. He couldn’t just take yes for what it was. “And… and the other thing…”

“Aaron,” I whispered against his nose, “I love you more than anything. I don’t want to lose you either. So what do you think?” I smiled in response to his smirk. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. Does that answer it?”

“Say it again.”

“Yes.” I pecked his lips. “I’d say yes, Aaron Hotchner. I’d always say yes.”

He grabbed my hips roughly and pressed a sudden, breathtaking kiss against my lips. I tried to grab ahold of him before I could fall back against the mirror behind me. We both giggled against each other. I loved him… I wanted to scream it from the top of my lungs— which I was sure was what he planned on making happen within the next hour or so— and I never wanted to stop saying it. I loved Aaron Hotchner. I would marry Aaron Hotchner. I wanted to have kids with Aaron Hotchner. I wanted to devote my entire life and being to Aaron Hotchner. I loved him, I loved him, I loved him. Yes, yes, yes. Always.

At seven, half of the team was already set up at the police station to give the profile there, while the other half of us were at the FBI New York Field Office to deliver the profile to the Bureau workers. Since this was a joint task force operation, it was imperative that the NYPD was also aware of what we were looking for. That being said, I was glad that I didn’t draw the short stick on that one. Emily, Spencer, and Morgan had to go downtown to talk with them, meanwhile Hotch, Rossi, and I went to the field office. They were well behaved and good listeners. The NYPD, on the other hand… with how Morgan lost it last night, I did not pity them.

Delivering the profile was fairly textbook, but the profile itself was anything but that. It seemed like the team heeded my advice about the Unsubs’ intentions, because the profile we built around them relied heavily on the fact that they were politically motivated. There was some kind of bigger plan at play, though we weren’t sure yet what it was. That was why we needed everyone else’s help. We knew that because there were two Unsubs completing the tasks of these seemingly random murders, we were dealing with a dominant/submissive pair. Explaining that part to the field office was fairly textbook, however. Because of how they had planned and executed these attacks, it was easy to conclude that they were sophisticated and intelligent. Therefore, at least the dominant had a steady job—which was also why they were only hitting at certain times.

When we concluded delivering the profile to the agents in the field office, I saw Hotch pull Kate to the side to discuss putting more men on the street. When they left, everyone turned to me. The snickers that had been plastered to their faces yesterday morning when joking about how they liaised together were now frowns and pouts of apologies. But I wasn’t jealous or upset. Not since last night. What Hotch and I discussed—what we practically decided—made me over the moon happy. How could I be jealous of Kate anymore when I knew that Hotch wanted to marry me and he saw us living our whole lives together? I trusted him. I had to remind myself of that. The team didn’t know these new developments, however. All they knew was that all of yesterday, I looked miserable while thinking about what could have potentially happened between Hotch and Kate. But last night… “Magical” felt like a hyperbolic term or one alluding to Disney, which in itself felt overdramatic, but… last night… Hotch and I… There were honestly no words.

While everyone went to go back to work after giving me soft, apologetic eyes, I grabbed JJ’s hand and practically yanked her into the women’s bathroom. She tried protesting, but I didn’t relent. Once the door was closed behind us, I turned to her with a giddy smile that only made her urge for answers more prominent.

“Hotch and I talked last night,” I told her, making sure all of the stalls were clear. She was watching me like I was a crazy person. I turned to her with a wider smile once I was sure that we were alone. “I think he’s going to propose once we get home.”

JJ’s eyes widened, but not in a good way like I had for her last night. She seemed genuinely shocked and almost… disturbed. “What?” she scoffed.

I tried to maintain my smile. “Yeah. We talked last night, and I think you bringing up St. Louis again brought up a good point for us, JJ. We’re ready. We’ve always been ready, but we’ve just been scared.” I took her hands. “JJ, I think this is it. Seriously.”

“I—” she chuckled back another scoff as she carefully tore her hands away from mine. “I didn’t realize that you two were that serious.”

My smile finally faded. “What?”

“I mean…” She crossed her arms over her chest. “You guys have only been dating for, what, a year? And you were already talking about kids around the six months mark or so? And now you’re talking about getting married? Don’t you think you’re moving things a little fast?”

I took a defensive, defeated step away from her. “What?” I repeated like a broken record.

“Listen, Y/N, dating Hotch and seeing Jack occasionally is one thing, but are you really willing to be Jack’s mother just as much as Haley is? Are you willing to spend more time with Haley for the sake of Hotch and Jack without making things awkward for them? Are you prepared for if Hotch makes a widow of you while on a case—or is he even prepared for if you make a widower of him? Have you considered any of this before taking the idea of marriage seriously?”

I thought that, of all people, JJ would get it. She hardly knew Will any longer than Hotch and I knew each other, and they were already having a kid together. Why was it that she got that opportunity freely, but I had to consider a thousand different things and jump through a million hoops to prove that I loved Hotch and that I would do anything for him? Yes, I was willing to be a mother to Jack—actually, I would have loved to be a mother to Jack. I practically already felt like I was. What was the difference in putting the actual label on it? And, of course I was willing to spend more time with Haley. There was obviously a cold shoulder feeling between us, but for the most part, we got along fairly well. If dealing with Haley meant being with Hotch and Jack, then, yes, I was willing to do that. And losing Hotch… No… I wasn’t ready for that. No one was ever ready for something like that. I was sure that Will and JJ weren’t even prepared for potentially losing each other. That wasn’t a fair jab on JJ’s behalf. It wasn’t. Losing Hotch was my worst nightmare. If anything bad ever happened to him, I’d die.

Before I could say anything to argue with JJ, there was a knock at the door. We both sighed off the tension as we looked away from one another. I cleared my throat. JJ opened the door slightly. I could see a sliver of Hotch’s silhouette, but he was keeping his back turned to not make it look like he was peeking into the women’s bathroom.

JJ looked at me slightly, “There’s another victim.”

I cursed under my breath. Before she could say anything else, I pushed past her and hurried out of the bathroom. Hotch and I brushed shoulders as I stormed out. I could sense that, behind me, Hotch and JJ were exchanging a glance where Hotch was asking for answers and JJ was shrugging off his gaze.

In the office space, I could hear that Morgan and Kate were fighting again. I wasn’t sure what was going on between them, but it was really starting to tick me off. There were a thousand reasons I should have been picking fights with Kate, but I knew that it wasn’t my place and there wasn’t time. I also talked to Hotch—you know, as adults do, and we solved the issue before it could be blown out of proportion. Whatever was going on with Morgan needed to be resolved soon or I was actually going to smack some sense into him.

“We could’ve had that guy!” Morgan exclaimed. “If you and Hotch just listened to me last night, this wouldn’t’ve happened.”

Kate rolled her eyes. “Even if we were on that platform, odds are that they would have targeted a different, less policed platform.”

“Yeah, well, at least that woman would still be alive.”

“Morgan,” Hotch said, coming up from behind me to step between them, “second-guessing isn’t going to do any of us any good right now—”

Morgan turned his attention. “Hotch, how am I supposed to look these cops in the eye and tell them that we’re here to help?”

“You’re not. We’re here to give the profile, that’s all.”

“I said to put us at express stops. 14th, 42nd, 59th, 63rd. That’s exactly where they hit!”

“It’s not your place to have this discussion or make this decision, Derek!”

“My place?” Morgan scoffed. “My place, Hotch? Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

“You need to back off. You need to stay focused here and not let your emotions get in the way.”

Morgan chuckled. “That’s funny, Hotch. Focused. From where I’m standing, all of your focus has been on her,” he pointed at Kate.

Kate rolled her eyes, Hotch bit the inside of his cheek, and I sighed to myself while trying to practically hide behind Rossi. I didn’t want to get mixed up in any of that. Morgan had a short fuse since coming to New York. Whatever possible reason there was for it, I needed to wait until he was cooled down to confront him about it. As for what he said about Hotch and Kate, he wasn’t necessarily wrong. Yes, Hotch was going out of his way to stand up for Kate, even though it wasn’t his job to. I supposed that should have made me mad, but I couldn’t focus on anything besides what JJ said to me in the bathroom. I confided in her as a friend. I thought that she would have been excited for me, yet I was only met with skepticism. I hated it.

“Take a walk. Now,” Hotch said quietly and angrily.

Morgan huffed, giving up on fighting with Hotch again. He didn’t look at me as he turned towards the elevators so that he could catch some of that “fresh” New York City air. There was silence for the longest time in the office. Kate was watching Hotch, but he was watching me, and I was watching JJ. We all had different things on our minds, and none of it had to do with the case. Great. How were we supposed to save people like this? How were we supposed to put our jobs first when Kate clearly still had feelings for Hotch, and he was worried about me and the conversation we had last night, all the while I was mad at JJ for what she said. And then there was Morgan… Morgan was mad at practically all of us. He was mad at Kate for who knew what, he was mad at Hotch for defending her over him, he was mad at me for not having his back, and he was mad at the rest of the team for not taking a side.

“Kate,” Hotch whispered, nodding towards her office. She caught his hint and followed him there.

The rest of us stood around, completely clueless as to what we should do. Normally, we would head down to the crime scene to investigate, but that system had proven to be useless over the past couple of murders. More was getting done around the office than the crime scenes. But not this time. It felt like we were always in the wrong place. Maybe Morgan really did have a point. If Hotch and Kate had just listened to him, this wouldn’t have happened—or maybe it still would’ve happened, but at least we would’ve had cops on the streets to try and stop the Unsub, or maybe someone on the team could race to the crime scene to tell us if it were worth taking a look at or not. But now we had nothing. Kate and Hotch were talking privately and the rest of us were doing fuck all.

It didn’t take long for them to talk, however. Hotch opened the door to her office again, ushering her through, and then they met us back in the office space.

“We’re going to be putting all of our forces on the streets today,” Kate announced to everyone.

“Now?” I questioned. We had no proof that they would hit more than once in one day. What was the point of taking Morgan’s advice now? It would have been better if they just waited until tomorrow.

Kate squinted at me. “Yes. Now. We’ll all pair up, taking different streets and stations where we anticipate their next attack. Even if they won’t strike again today, it’s very likely that they’ll be scouting their next targets, which means that they’ll stick out like sore thumbs. Our job today is to look for people out of place and to question them. That’s all.”

I scoffed quietly and looked at Hotch. Now I know how Morgan felt “I’ll go with Derek, I guess.” I threw my hands up in disbelief of what I was seeing and hearing. I couldn’t believe Hotch was agreeing to this. We could’ve been staying to work on the profile instead of stalking the streets for no reason.

So while everyone quietly started pairing up, they kept an eye on me as I headed for the elevator. When I reached the lobby, I saw Morgan pacing angrily, hitting the wall with his foot every time he ran into one. When he spotted me, though, he stopped pacing, and his face softened a bit. My face was still hot with the anger that was building in my chest. Morgan’s frustration was rubbing off on me and I didn’t exactly appreciate it.

“Let’s go,” I huffed, walking straight past him. He followed on my heels. “Kate’s finally putting everyone out on the street.”

“You’re kidding,” he chortled.

“We’re all one step behind these two Unsubs, yet Kate seems about three steps behind us. I don’t understand why Hotch trusts her so much.”

“Their history?”

I shook my head as we pushed through the front doors of the building. “I asked him about it, and he told me that nothing ever happened between them.”

“Be that as it may, but they still have some kind of feelings for each other. She definitely likes him more, and I’m not saying he likes her like that, but… There was something there at some point, Y/N, and that’s all getting dragged up again.”

“I get that,” I said when we reached the SUV on the road that we were going to take to our assignment. “But that still doesn’t excuse his ignorance.”

“I know.”

We got in the car and I told Morgan where we were headed.

We were sitting in the car for a few hours, scanning the road, watching pedestrians as they passed by. Morgan and I chatted a bit about stuff outside of work because that was clearly a sore, irritating topic for us both. Unfortunately, there was a good hour or so where I had to hear about some of his hookups. Every detail. I think he forgot that just because we were best friends didn’t exactly mean I needed to hear about how many women he could sleep with in one night. I mean, hey, I was glad he trusted me with that information, but there were some things that were better unsaid.

“What’s going on with you?” I asked quietly. Morgan looked at me suddenly. “Why are you and Kate arguing all the time?”

Morgan sighed. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing. She’s got you all riled up. For what?”

His grip tightened on the steering wheel out of frustration. “Hotch told me something yesterday.” I cocked a brow. “The Bureau’s going to fire Kate if she doesn’t close this case with a ribbon on top.”

“Okay. So? Why should you care? Do you like her or something?”

He shot me a glare. “No. If she’s kicked out, I’m at the top of her replacement list.”

My heart dropped to my stomach. That was why he was challenging authority. He could see the position in his future. He saw that he could potentially be running the New York Field Office soon, and he was letting it get to his head. The whole point of our job was that we weren’t supposed to let emotions get in the way, but he was doing the exact opposite, almost like he was hoping that Kate would fail. Obviously, we didn’t want this pair of Unsubs to keep killing, but… he wanted that job. And I didn’t blame him. I didn’t want him to leave us—to leave me, but it was a good fucking opportunity. If he ended up getting the job offer for one reason or another, I’d have to let him go, even though it would kill me. He was my best friend. He was my partner in the field. I didn’t know how to do this without him. But if I had to, then I had to. That was life.

“Morgan—”

“Garcia! We’ve got an officer down!” Emily shouted into the comms. Morgan immediately pressed his foot onto the gas pedal while l turned on the lights and sirens. “16th West of Union Square!”

We weren’t very far from 16th. I mean, in New York traffic, we were pretty far; but with the lights and sirens on, we moved somewhat faster through the crowd of cars. Morgan weaved his way through, honking at every car that refused to move, cursing at every pedestrian that was in our way, cursing to himself that we weren’t getting to Emily faster. This was what he wanted, though. He told Kate we should put cops on the streets. Yet look what happened. Cooper went with Emily, and she called it in, but what were we supposed to do if we found Emily lying on the concrete, too? I don’t think either of us would be able to handle it.

As we approached 17th, I could see the crowd surrounding an alleyway just on 16th. Morgan made a turn and sped up to them to see what was going on. While he slowed down, I popped my door open and jumped out, running with the momentum of the car a bit to make sure I wouldn’t fall flat on my face. I pushed through the crowd of pedestrians, calling out: “FBI! Move!” while shoving them around. When I got through, I saw them. Emily was crouched over Cooper, and there was an Unsub about ten feet away from them, bleeding out.

I cursed under my breath and ran to the Unsub, pulling off my jacket so that I could use it to put pressure on his wounds. He couldn’t die. We needed him. He was our only chance of getting answers. But he wasn’t conscious. He was breathing, yet he wasn’t awake. If we could keep him alive long enough, to keep the two bullet wounds in his chest at bay for just a few more hours, we could get answers.

I pressed onto my jacket on his chest with both of my palms. I was trying to stop the bleeding until the paramedics could arrive, but he was already bleeding through the fabric of my jacket. I didn’t know what else to do. The ambulances were close—I could hear their sirens just a few blocks away. But I didn’t know what else to do. With all the blood he lost… And then he started to crash. My breath hitched before I started performing CPR in a panic. We couldn’t lose him. We just couldn’t.

He suddenly woke up with a gasp. As his eyes adjusted to the sunlight, he tried to wiggle around, but I held him still to make sure he wouldn’t cause anymore internal harm. He looked up at me. “Let me die.”

I froze. I wasn’t going to let him die. No. “What’s your name?”

“Let me die…”

“No,” I answered quickly. “What’s your name, kid?”

“Ma’am, we’ll take it from here,” a paramedic said, racing up behind me. I didn’t even realize that they had already made it. So I moved back, letting them get to work since they could do more than I could. “Step away,” he insisted, pointing to the end of the alleyway.

I nodded silently, then slowly turned on my heels. As I slowly started making my way out of the alley, I glanced over my shoulder to get a look at the Unsub one last time. He was just a kid… seventeen or eighteen, maybe. He didn’t look like the type of submissive or dominant to be running around these streets. He just looked like any normal kid. So why? The dominant wouldn’t have gotten caught, and he didn’t fit the description of the submissive. So… what was going on?

“Are you okay?” Morgan asked worriedly, running up to a shell shocked Emily. She nodded slightly. “Is he going to make it?” We all looked at the ambulance where they were loading up Cooper to take him to the hospital.

Her gaze fell to the ground. “I— I don’t… I don’t know.”

I suddenly felt a hand on my shoulder. “You okay, kid?” Rossi asked me.

I didn’t say anything. That kid down there was going to die because I couldn’t do more… How was I supposed to live with that? I could shoot an Unsub, no problem, but trying to save a kid? It didn’t make sense why it was hitting me so hard. It shouldn’t have mattered. He should have been any old Unsub. But he was a kid… Hotch and I were talking about having kids… What if someone shot our— No.

“Let me get you something to wipe this off,” Rossi said, pointing to my bloody hands. He snapped at Reid, a signal to find a rag or something. “What happened?” he asked me, trying to get me to focus on something.

I shook my head. “I… Morgan and I got here afterwards… Emily… She…” I looked up at him as Reid returned with a rag and started gently wiping the blood off my hands. “He’s just a kid, Rossi. He doesn’t match the descriptions of our Unsubs.”

“You think that this is an unrelated, isolated case?” Reid inquired.

I glanced between him and my hands. The fucking blood wasn’t coming off. It was still wet, and it should have been wiped away with ease, but it was still there, drying, taunting me. I had a kid’s blood on my hands. “No,” I answered him quietly. “It’s the same; I just don’t understand how.” I shyly looked at Rossi. “He wanted me to let him die.”

Rossi’s face relaxed, almost like something important occurred to him. “I think we have a serious fucking problem,” he cursed under his breath. Reid stopped wiping my hands clean. When I looked down again, though, it didn’t look like he made any progress, so I started scratching at it. “We have multiple Unsubs, they’re willing to die— according to Y/N— they’re using counter-surveillance, there seems to be a hierarchy, a random thirst for blood, a need to create chaos amongst the masses—”

“Terrorists,” I mumbled.

“Exactly.”

“What do we have?” Hotch asked, running up to us with Kate hot on his heels.

Still scratching at my hands to get the blood off, I answered, “Cooper’s headed to the hospital, the Unsub’s too unstable to transport right now—”

“Do they think he’ll make it?” Kate inquired.

I stared at her for a moment before shaking my head. I continued talking to Hotch, “There’s a problem, though. This guy’s a third Unsub, and he begged me to let him die, Hotch. We were just talking about it…” I trailed off, unsure of how to proceed while still focusing on the damn blood that wouldn’t come off my hands.

Reid took over after noticing my awkward silence. “We think these guys might be terrorists.” Everyone’s posture changed. “The murders simulate bombings. Typically, with terrorist bombings, there’s one, less lethal bombing to gauge police response times, then there will be another bombing on another day with a second bombing to follow suit once the emergency responders get there. The targets are usually civilians for the test bombing and the first bombing so as to create chaos. The second bombing, however, is the main focus of the attacks, and that’s because attacking emergency responders is, in a way, attacking the government and the system itself. Today, what we saw was that plan finally being enacted. They’ve been test running with the past few shootings in order to get our attention, which is also what the Tarot card was for, and once they knew that they had first responders on the street, they went for it. If Emily didn’t shoot the Unsub, he would’ve shot her.”

I looked at the blood on my hands again to notice that it was gone. My palms were all red from scratching them up, but the blood had been gone ever since Reid wiped it away, and I hadn’t noticed. Something about how Reid mentioned that the Unsub lying on the ground probably seven feet away from us would’ve killed Emily made me suddenly less empathetic.

“This is the bigger play here, Aaron,” Rossi said. “This is what we’ve been missing.”

Hotch’s phone started ringing. He glanced at the caller ID first to see if it were something he could ignore while we were talking about a potential terror attack. It must have been important because he answered it and put it on speaker. “Garcia?”

“Sir, we’ve got a problem. I’ve been looking through all the cameras since the last shooting, and they’ve all been hacked into. That’s how they’ve been watching us. That’s how they’ve been ahead of us this entire time.”

“How did we not catch that sooner?”

“It was system wide. I had to check camera by camera to be sure.”

Hotch sighed. “Okay. Thanks, Garcia.” He hung up on her. “This isn’t just a theory anymore. If the shootings were just a test, there’s going to be something big.”

Hotch put his phone away in his pocket. “Morgan and Y/N, head to Homeland Security to discuss raising this to a terrorist watch level. It’s…” He hesitated. “It’s possible that there will be a bombing soon.”

“Morgan, you have bomb experience, so I want you to head this if it comes to that point,” Kate said. Morgan, Hotch, and I all seemed shocked. “If that’s alright with you.”

Morgan nodded. “Sure.”

Before jumping onto our toes so that we could hurry back to our car, Hotch stopped us to make sure that we would stay in contact. These guys were going after first responders and they were watching us. We had to consider that we were all targets. Morgan and I agreed. Then we hurried off. The second we were in our seats, Morgan started driving off. Neither of us had our seatbelts on.

The sun was already starting to set, which meant that it would be dark soon, and that we were running out of time. If this really was as bad as we figured it was, then it meant that a bomb could go off at any point. It could have happened before, during, or after our meeting with Homeland Security, and then what? The whole city would go under lock down, our whole team separated. It wasn’t ideal. So we had to race to convince Homeland Security that this was a real, viable threat.

My phone buzzed with a call that I picked up as soon as I could, not even bothering to look at the caller ID. “Greenaway,” I answered.

“Hey,” Hotch greeted, “I just wanted to let you know that Kate and I are heading back to the field office right now. When you and Morgan are done at Homeland, meet us there before we head to the hotel for the night.”

“Okay. Sounds good. I’ll let Morgan know.”

“Thanks. I love you.”

That caught me off guard for a moment, but I tried not to overthink it. It probably had to do with trying to prove to me and himself that nothing happened with Kate— at least nothing that mattered— or that our conversation last night shouldn’t matter, or maybe it really was just an accident. Either way, I returned the favor before hanging up and tossing my phone in the cup holder.

“What was that about?” Morgan inquired.

“Hotch wants us to meet up with him and Kate at the office before going back to the hotel for the night.”

“Did he say why?”

I shook my head. “I figure it’s probably just to review our meeting with Homeland Security, and then we’ll be set loose.”

“Hopefully. I’m exhausted.”

“I could use a drink.” I threw my head back against the headrest.

“What’s been up with you today?” he asked, keeping his eyes on the road. I raised a brow. “Come on, Greenaway. I know when something’s wrong with you.”

“How—”

“Don’t ask because I won’t tell you how I know. But, seriously, what is it?”

“Did JJ tell you?” I narrowed my eyes suspiciously.

He looked over at me. “No. But now you’ve piqued my interest.”

I silently cursed myself for saying anything at all. If I would have just kept my mouth shut, I could have denied that something was wrong, or I could have just avoided the topic altogether by not saying anything until we would get to the Homeland Security office. But now Morgan definitely wasn’t going to leave it alone. It wasn’t like I didn’t want to discuss Hotch with Morgan. I knew that Morgan loved me and he was glad that we were happy with each other… but after what JJ said, I was scared to talk about it with anyone else. I thought that, of all people, JJ would have understood; yet she took my heart in her hand and practically squeezed it into dust. I didn’t want Morgan to give me the same pessimistic opinion.

I let out a quiet sigh and stared at my sweaty palms. “Hotch and I talked last night about getting married and having kids.” I waited, trying to gauge if Morgan would protest just yet. He didn’t react, though. “I told him that I’d marry him in a heartbeat, and I’d have kids with him whenever. I mean… that wasn’t exactly what was said, but that was the gist of it… I was really excited about it, though, Derek. I felt like Hotch and I were on the same page about it, and I even figured that once this was all over with, he might even propose…” I hesitated when I saw his grip on the steering wheel tense. My shoulders fell in defeat. “JJ thinks we’re rushing and should hold off on making any big decisions like that.”

“I agree with JJ,” he insisted quickly before I could continue.

I felt my heart sink in my chest. My worst fear had been realized. It didn’t matter how happy anyone on the team was for me and Hotch, they didn’t understand why we were already talking about getting married a year into our relationship. Morgan would always give me shit for dating Hotch, but I thought that it was always because of the age difference, or the fact that he was my superior. But I never stopped to think that it was because he thought that Hotch and I weren’t actually that serious. We were. I couldn’t imagine my life with anyone else but Hotch. Of course I wanted to marry him and have a family with him. Why wait if we knew that it was what we wanted? What was the point of dancing around it? I was serious about it, Hotch was serious about it… Why could no one else seem to understand that?

Morgan took notice of my silence, so he decided to backpedal and explain himself. “You know I love you, sunshine, but… Come on. I know that things seem really good, and they probably are because you’re still technically in the honeymoon stage of your relationship, but I don’t want you to jump the gun on this and get hurt like Haley got hurt. Hotch is different around you, there’s no denying it. I just worry that he might wake up one day and realize that he doesn’t want to be this new person anymore. He might want to be who he’s always been. And if that happens, I don’t want you to get hurt because of it. It’s easy to wiggle out of a situation like that when you have no legal ties. But look at Haley. She wanted out, yet she’s still tied to him. If you get married, or if you have kids, and things fall apart, what are you going to do? Stick around like Haley does? Stay in the BAU and pretend like nothing happened?” He looked over at me, reading the disappointed look I was wearing, and he grabbed my hand. “I want what’s best for you. If you really think you’re ready for the next steps, then I can’t stop you. But maybe you should just think about it a little longer—”

My phone started ringing. I thanked literally every higher power imaginable from saving me from hearing the rest of that. And, honestly, Morgan was probably relieved, too. It seemed like he was rambling in order to try and save his rapport with me, but it wasn’t helping. I knew that he meant well. I knew that he loved me. I knew that he was just looking out for me. But I really wanted his support on this when JJ wouldn’t give it. I felt like if even one person could be happy for us, then that was good enough for me. But Hotch and I cared too much about our team and what they thought of us to not take into account how they each felt about us. If there was any chance that our relationship was going to impact the team, they had every right to know about it beforehand in the same way Jack and Haley deserved to know.

“Garcia?”

“Oh, my god, you’re okay,” she sighed with relief.

I raised a brow and put the call on speaker so that Morgan could listen in. “What’s going on?” I asked.

“You haven’t heard?”

Morgan and I shared a look of confusion. “Penelope, what happened?” Derek asked this time.

“I—Wh—” She sniffled.

“Penelope,” he insisted, getting worried.

“There was a bomb in one of the cars. I don’t know where anyone is, I don’t know who took which car, I don’t know who’s okay, I don’t—”

“Woah, woah, woah, baby girl. Calm down. Use your words. Explain what happened.”

We heard Garcia take in a deep, calming breath. “There was a bomb in one of the SUVs.”

“Where?”

“Just outside of the field office.”

I nearly dropped my phone. Hotch called me from the car he and Kate were in on their way to the field office. He told us to meet him there. He— He was in one of those SUVs. I just heard from him— It couldn’t be him, right? Right… Please. My head started to spin.

“Have you heard from Hotch?” Morgan asked for me.

“I haven’t heard from anyone. You guys are the first ones I called. I didn’t know what else to do—”

“Calm down. It’s going to be alright. Call my phone and keep me on the line while you try to get ahold of everyone else. Y/N’s going to call Hotch, alright?”

I silently thanked him for knowing me well enough to know that I would want to be the one to call Hotch. He probably understood that I was fearing the worst, thinking that it was Hotch and Kate in that bombing. He knew that I’d be desperate to get off the phone with Garcia so that I could get ahold of Hotch. I thanked him for knowing me like that. I thanked him for being my friend who looked out for me. Even if he was an asshole only a minute ago.

“Okay,” Garcia agreed. She hung up the call on my phone, and moments later, Morgan’s phone started to ring.

As he answered, I started dialing Hotch’s number. It started ringing. One. Beat. Two. Beat. Three. Beat. Four. Beat. Five. Beat. Click.

“You’ve reached Aaron Hotchner. Leave your name and message and I’ll get back to you when I can.”

#Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfic #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #Aaron Hotch Hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner imagine

45 notes · View notes

agentsofsupernaturalmarvel · 4 years ago

Text

Lost Time // Luke Patterson

Summary: Things changed since Sunset Curve fell apart literally as three out of four members died before a gig. Leaving a sad girl behind Luke by chance runs into the reader with someone else. Death tore the couple apart, and time can’t fix this.

Warning: Talk of death, depression, angst and fluff

Words: 2.2k

Might as well join the Julie and the Phantoms fan club!

*For the sake of the story the time frame has been altered, it takes place in the mid-2000s. Also! I tried to make the reader as generalized as I could to make sure that everyone can relate. The reader is Alex’s sister, for inclusion that can be biological, adopted, half or stepsiblings. I want to make sure all people can be the reader.

Masterlist

The 1990s was definitely some of the best years of your life watching your brother grow more comfortable in his identity. Alex had kept his sexuality secret, taking the frustration of the secret by learning how to play the drums. You would often be found curled on the chair listening to his growing talent; Alex was a great brother.

Alex found friends in three local boys Reggie, Bobby and Luke, even a little more than friends with Luke briefly. By 1991 the boys had formed a band Sunset Curve with each other and a loyal fan in you. By mid-1994 the band had a fanbase and some gigs, but playing The Orpheum was the goal.

Luke had admitted to Alex, he had feelings for you, and with a lot of encouragement from Alex, he approached you. Luke had been focused on music since his parents gave him his first guitar, so relationships weren’t even on the backburner.

“Hey.” Luke spoke, pressing a kiss to your cheek backstage, “Missed you.”

His hair tickled your skin, bringing a bright smile from the teenage boy and a deep blush from you, private time wasn’t as often as it once had been. After Luke’s fallout with his parents a few months back, he had couch surfed between Reggie and Alex’s rooms; he wasn’t allowed in yours.

“You saw me last night.”

“A monumental time.” Luke bent his bend to place a lingering kiss on your bare shoulder, his jacket having fallen down, “Three years together and a bright future ahead.”

Last night had been the third anniversary of your relationship and hopefully the previous night worrying on parents walking in, cheap dates Luke often felt guilty about. Luke knew in his bones playing The Orpheum tonight would open the door to a legendary future. A future where money wasn’t tight and he could you on dates he deemed acceptable for the love of his life.

Bobby voiced brought Sunset Curve’s lead singer back to that moment, you dropped from the stage to settle in the empty audience to watch the soundcheck. With a wink from Alex, he started making the beat to Now or Never, you beamed as they poured their souls into the song. The four were talented and made to be in a band together even if you didn’t really like Bobby.

Cringing at the awkward wink Bobby sent you turned on your converse to head to the bar for a glass of water. Thanking the bartender, you tuned out the conversation with the waitress and the band only jumping when arms wrapped around your waist.

“We’re getting street dogs.” Luke spoke, bringing your body to rest on his chest, “Do you want one?”

The thought of those street dogs honestly horrifying given they were cooked in some random guys car. The one time you tried, it had permanently tattooed the taste in your memories forever, and just remembering was vomit-inducing.

“I’ll pass.” You wrinkled your nose, turning to wrap your arms around his neck, “I don’t know how you guys like those.”

“Tradition.” Luke shrugged caressing your cheekbone with the pad of this thumb. Gazing at features he wanted to wake up to for the rest of his life, “Still down with the plan?”

“The minute I’m eighteen, we go to the nearest chapel.” You grinned playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, “I’ll be waiting Rockstar.”

Luke pressed a long passionate kiss on your lips, pulling away to jog over to Alex and Reggie waiting at the door. Bobby having declined the street dog invitation to flirt with the waitress Rose. Alex waved before the door closed. Little did you know that would be the last time you saw them alive.

1995 was the worst year of your life. 1996 was the hardest, especially with the forever reminder of your love. You wouldn’t trade 1996 for the world however, only wishing for one change.

Los Angeles, 2004

Alex, Reggie and Luke had learnt a mere few days away from that life had drastically changed forever. Firstly, the three boys had died from eating the street dogs mere hours before performing on the stage of The Orpheum. Secondly, it was no longer 1995 but instead nearly ten years had past bringing the three ghosts into 2004.

The most jarring wasn’t being able to be heard playing music with a random girl named Julie but that the most constant part of the band no longer was there. You hadn’t died that night, and Alex was pretty sure you were still alive. Luke felt lost waking up without you beside him and the deep regret of not reconciling with his parents.

It would be a week before Luke would swallow his pride enough to orb himself into his unchanged childhood home. Emily, Luke’s mom, was in the well-worn chair knitting a scarf Luke recognized as his favourite colours. Mitch was in the kitchen, putting the groceries away. It was heartbreaking being invisible to his aged parents.

“Hey, Mom.” Luke sniffled sitting on the couch nearby staring at his silent mother, “Sorry for not visiting sooner.”

Tears welled up in the boy’s eyes feeling hopeless, not being able to ease his parents’ pain, the regret and guilt bubbling to the surface.

“How is Y/N? I bet she’s living in New York of London now. We promised to travel the world together. Part of me is guilty of wishing she had eaten a street dog that night so we could be together.” Luke sobbed, wrapping his arms around his midsection reminiscing on the beautiful girl he had unwillingly left.

“Hey.” Mitch spoke, kissing his wife’s forehead. Her eyes closing in contentment.

“I wonder if you know where Reg and Alex’s parents are. Reggie’s neighbourhood was torn down who knows when. It makes me scared to see if Alex and Y/N’s parents still have their place. I don’t think so. They lost their son.”

“Hey Luke.”

Luke glanced over his shoulder to see Alex at the door, reluctant to impose of Luke’s privacy.

“Yeah.”

“We’re rehearsing.” Alex spoke, smiling as the other teenager took one more wistful look at his parents before orbing out of his house to the Molina family’s garage. Minutes later, the front door opening and feet thudding brought the noise to the Patterson home.

“Grandma!”

A four-foot blue of green and black blur covered the room in seconds nearly sprawling Mitch to the floor. Why was that 1996 year difficult? Well, ’95 was when Sunset Curve tragically died, and a stick changed your life. ’96 was spent going through the last five months of pregnancy without Luke.

October 1995

You kept your lips pressed tightly together, unable to look at the smooth, shiny mahogany rectangle surrounded by flowers. Looking up meant the reality kicking in. Funerals sucked. Especially the third funeral in the last handful of days. It was surreal thinking that one week ago you had kissed your boyfriend and hugged your brother and now they were dead. Gone. Not even a goodbye.

“Are you okay?” The broke voice asked, gaining your attention. Swollen red eyes matching yours held unimaginable pain. While the last few months had been icy with your parents, it didn’t mean losing one of their kids didn’t sting.

“I will be.” You whispered clasping your hands over the scratchy black velvet dress, one you had worn three times too many.

The sobs broke out seeing the best picture Alex had taken in his life, it encapsulated his best features; his beaming smile and kind, caring eyes. Alex was gone. Your brother was gone because he ate a bad hot dog with his friends. You would never see your boys again. Never feel Luke’s skin or share a laugh with Alex or complain about things with Reggie. You wouldn’t get to meet in the chapel with Luke wearing second hand ‘fancy’ clothing. In one night, your life changed.

It changed further seeing the two lines on the test later that night. The heartache growing. The baby you carried would never meet his uncles and his Dad. Would never hear them play or learn to play. ’95 and ’96 sucked ass.

You sighed, closing the door to follow the rambunctious ball of energy into the living room where he entertained Mitch and Emily. Some days it was difficult to stare into the green eyes he inherited from his father.

“Benjamin Lucas.” You spoke crossing your arms, meeting the gaze of the eight-year-old boy, “What did I say?”

“To not runoff.” Ben quietly replied, playing with his hands. His messy brown hair, in need of a trim, falling into his eyes, “Sorry Mom.”

“Please don’t do it again.” You gently told the little boy elated as he quickly found the toy box in the corner of the room.

Ben was loved deeply by Mitch and Emily, who had stepped up when your parents made the decision to sell your childhood home. Wanting Ben to know his paternal grandparents, you had struggled to find an apartment and job to say in the neighbourhood. Since the baby was the last part of their son, the Patterson parents’ had welcomed you into the home where you stayed until Ben was two.

“Do you want us to come around for Luke’s birthday?” You questioned sitting on the love seat, the same love seat you had made out on with Luke many times during movies.

The room turned sad at the question and reminded that for the ninth year, you would celebrate Luke’s birthday without him. A day where Ben wouldn’t fully understand. Emily simply nodded her head.

“Have you met anyone?” Mitch asked, leaning over to clasp his hands together. For the last few years, they had been pushing you to date. They wanted your happiness and for Ben to have a father even if Luke couldn’t be it.

“Mama can we stay here tonight?” Ben’s innocent voice cut the tension, saving you from answering the question again. Mitch and Emily each nodded their heads at the question, unable to tell the young boy no.

“Have you ate?” Emily asked, turning to look at you in concern. The chuckle left your mouth at the question she frequently requested, she missed cooking for more than two.

“We had pasta before we came.” You replied, turning to gaze out the window to the dark sky, “I should put Ben to bed.”

The soft whine from your son and denial was a nightly routine and very much a mirror image to Luke’s character as well. With a smile, Emily held out her hand to her grandchild, she was notoriously the only one able to get Ben to sleep fast.

“Come on Bug.”

It seemed the universe was keeping Luke from seeing you and discovering Ben, but when that night came, he was shocked. Emily was curled up on the patio couch, watching Ben in the newly bought sandbox. The patio doors opened. Inside, Mitch had invited a stranger who knew his son into the house.

“I think I heard the doorbell. I’ll be right back.” Emily called out to you. You had found shade under the tree reading a new book.

The soft cry had you up and running to Ben before you even realized, on his knee was a bleeding wound. You had already scooped the boy into your arms to quickly get into the kitchen. The moment your foot stepped into the home, the sound of a familiar voice and song filled the house.

Gently placing Ben on his feet, you followed the sound to the living room. Across the room behind a young girl stood a boy.

“Luke.” You breathed floored at the sight of the teenager who looked exactly like he did back in ’95. The ghost singing widened his eyes at yours, taking in the mature features and change of fashion.

He continued to sing the song Unsaid Emily he had written as an apology to his mom following the last big fight. The song he never got to show her. His voice faded as the ending of the song came around.

“Mama!” Your attention broke from Luke’s when a tiny hand reached for yours. The pain in his voice bringing you back to the most important part of your life, “It hurts Mama.”

Despite being sad, Mitch was the one to cross the room to lift the little boy into his arms. Placing the little boy on the counter, the man gently wet a paper towel to wash the area.

“I think he needs stitches.” Mitch sighed, furrowing his brows.

“Who is that?” Luke asked the Molina girl. The girl shrugged taking in the features she could recognize. Julie asked Emily.

“That’s Ben.” Emily beamed, looking over her shoulder at the little boy that filled the void of Luke’s death. It didn’t fix the wound or erase the pain, but Ben’s existence helped with the loss as he was a precious gift, “When Luke passed away his girlfriend Y/N found out she was pregnant with Luke’s baby.”

The choked sob fell from Luke’s mouth echoed by the thud of his knees, hitting the floor in the pure shock. The heartbreak painted so clear Julie was sure she could feel Luke’s agony.

God, why did Luke have to eat that fucking street dog. Fuck his band dreams. Nothing hurt as bad as finding out about Ben and Y/N having to be a single parent.

“I have a son?” Luke cried, orbing himself as far as he could from the Patterson home and his most tremendous loss.

ASK TO BE TAGGED!

SEND IN REQUESTS!

#Luke Patterson imagines #julie and the phantoms imagines #jatp luke #julie molina #jatp julie #angst #fluff #caitsyandashproductions

71 notes · View notes

spidercakes · 4 years ago

Note

Since you like mob AUs, here’s a prompt u thought of: Peter is dating Beck or whoever, who doesn’t treat him right. What Peter doesn’t know is that his bf is a mob boss. Mob boss tony kidnaps peter out of revenge towards beck or for info or whatever. Soon he realizes peter has no idea what’s going on, and decides to keep him. Peter isn’t too upset about that.

I finagled with the prompt a little bit, Tony deliberately kidnaps Peter because he has no patience for domestic violence and is basically offended that Beck sucks. The rest is true to the prompt!

Warming: mentions of violence, mentions of domestic violence, age difference, this is more preslash than anything.

Tony feels bad that poor Peter looks so damn terrified but snatching him off the street seemed less... invasive than his other options. Plus its easier to leave less evidence that way and while he doesn’t give a shit what Beck thinks he doesn’t want to deal with him deciding to harass the hell out of him about his kidnapped boyfriend either.

He leans into the table and Peter immediately leans back. Tony sighs, “you know you deserve better than that piece of shit, right?” he asks. The kid has to know, he has to. Tony has looked into him because he had to wonder how the hell Quentin Beck, smart but ultimately an unhinged jackass with a temper, landed someone so... amazing. Peter is smart, his credentials prove it, his social media is all related to various social issues he cares about so he’s compassionate, and he’s stupid attractive. Like Beck deserved someone like that even before considering the whole ‘beats his boyfriend’ thing.

Its not that Tony has morals, he doesn’t really because they aren’t useful to him, but he’s got his limits. They’re few and far in between but domestic violence lands on his rather short list so that had made up his mind. The fact that Beck would be missing Peter is mostly an afterthought to Peter being removed from a shitty environment.

“As opposed to what, you? You literally snatched me off the street!” Peter says, voice shrill but its ballsy nonetheless. More ballsy than half the supposedly tough criminals he roughs up on a regular basis. By now most of them would be begging, but not Peter. But then surviving what he did gives a person a certain kind of strength, Tony knows.

“No, not really. I’m mostly here to mess Beck’s business up, and your lack of presence does that but I might as well kill two birds with one stone by telling you that you should get out. I mean I get it if you can’t, all things considered, but I’m well connected myself so if Beck think he can outdo-”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Peter asks, voice still several octaves higher than normal.

Tony frowns for a moment as something occurs to him. “There’s no way you don't know...”

Peter rolls his eyes looking semi hysterical, “well clearly I fucking don’t because I have no idea what this is and I’d really like to go home, please,” he says, voice cracking as he starts sniffling towards the end.

Across the room Rhodey gives him a look. “Keep it to yourself Rhodes,” Tony tells him.

“Just saying,” Rhodey murmurs.

Peter turns to face him, frowning. “Did he say something?”

“Not with words. Twenty five years of friendship has led to me being really, really good at reading his body language. As for home do you have anywhere else you could go that isn’t back to Beck? Seriously, that guy is a piece of shit. And a mob boss. That’s what this whole thing is about. He keeps messing with my business and I don’t really take kindly to that,” he says, sparing Peter the details. Mostly because he doesn’t want Peter to think he’ll become the details.

“Yeah, I’m sure you’re a real charmer in comparison,” Peter mumbles.

He doesn’t expect Rhodey to be the one to snort but he does, “yeah he’s a murderer but he’d never hit his significant other,” he says and the unshakable confidence in his voice is touching, really. Peter slumps a little in his seat and the poor thing looks desolate. He’d try and comfort him but he’s sure he wouldn’t be any good at it given that Peter is probably, and rightfully, afraid of him too.

The last thing he expects is for Peter to burst into tears though he supposes they’ve come later than normal. Usually he doesn’t do this sort of thing, target family, because he finds it distasteful but on the rare occasion he breaks that general rule they usually cry four seconds into it, not several minutes into it. He sighs, “aside from the kidnapping thing, what’s wrong?” he asks.

Rhodey’s eyebrows would have hit his hairline if he had one but instead he just looks at Tony like he’s a god damn moron. Which, in hindsight, his question does sound really stupid. “You kidnapped me,” Peter says, voice gone back to that shrill tone he’d had before. “You fucking kidnapped me and you’ve been nicer to me for the last twenty minutes than Quent has in the last five years,” he finishes right before crying even harder.

He looks at Rhodey, who squints and lifts his hands into the air in a ‘what the fuck’ motion. Great, so he can’t expect any help from him apparently. Some right hand man he is, Pepper is going to replace him soon if he keeps it up. “Look, you don’t need to go back. Its not as hard to make people disappear as cops think it is provided you know what you’re doing. Peter Parker doesn’t even need to exist and Beck isn’t competent enough to find whatever fake name you choose, trust me on that.”

Peter sniffles harshly but calms a little at least. “I’m no- not running away,” he mumbles.

“Taking necessary precautions isn’t running away, I know you know Beck better than I do and I know he doesn’t back down easy. He will try and hunt you down,” Tony says but not unkindly. He gets it, really, he does. He and his mother lived it.

Peter considers this a moment before he sits up a little straighter, still crying but the tears are silent. “You said you had connections. Do you have any way I can stay in New York and avoid Quent?”

Not exactly given that that’s a tall order. “Stay here as long as you want, we can work out the details later when you’re in a better position to land on your feet. And when I get the time to consider the logistics of that. I highly doubt Beck will bother you here though, I have a reputation and even he’s not stupid enough to test me.”

Peter knows Tony has to be dangerous, it comes with the whole mob thing and Tony isn’t shy about referencing violence at all. Peter doesn’t think he’d be shyer if he actually had to follow through on his words either, there’s just something about the easy way he talks about inflicting pain on people that Peter thinks is experienced. He has yet to see any evidence of it though and its been a month, he’s had time but Tony has been nothing but kind to him to an unusual degree if the reactions of everyone else around him is any indication.

Everyone from his business partner, Pepper, to Rhodey seem to find Tony’s fascination with him odd but Peter doesn’t so much mind if he gets to benefit from it. He’s wanted to leave Quent for a long time but he’d always suspected that he hadn’t reached his peak of violence and that’s partially why he stayed. The other part was not knowing where to go and he knew damn well that Quent wouldn’t just let him go.

So it was kind of convenient that Tony showed up when he did and he’s held up his end of the bargain. Peter hasn’t had to deal with Quent since Tony pulled him off a random street and he doesn’t mind that he has to take Natasha with him everywhere he goes. Its inconvenient but he’ll take that over having to deal with whatever Quent would try if he managed to find him again. Or gain access to him, he’s sure Quent figured out where he went by now when he hasn’t really been shy about it.

And that’s how Peter knows in his heart of hearts that Tony’s reputation isn’t just to be believed, but to be actively feared. Quent is mean and possessive and Peter never thought he could just walk out of their relationship but thanks to whatever it is that Tony does to people he managed.

“What?” Tony asks, probably sensing Peter staring at him.

“Why are people so afraid of you? I’ve never even heard you raise your voice,” he says. He’s seen Tony pissed off and he’s got a habit for mumbling in Italian but he doesn’t seem much for raising his voice even when actively livid. Peter finds it hard to be afraid of him even if he knows he should be.

Tony laughs a little, “you haven’t heard me yell because I’ve purposefully never yelled around you, not because I don’t. And people are afraid of me because I’m single minded in my goals and have a nasty habit of achieving them no matter the cost. They’ve grown wise not to get in my way.”

And there it is again, that slightly threatening nature but its hard to reconcile that with the guy who, after kidnapping him, immediately told him he deserved better than the treatment he was getting at home. Its hard to believe someone can sit on extremes that large, that someone would offer a perfect stranger a home and protection for literally no reason in one second and then do some kind of great violence the next. Rhodey said Tony was a murderer and that statement was confident, fact, but Peter just doesn’t see how Tony could do it. But then apparently he’s gone through the trouble of making sure Peter didn’t have to hear him yell.

“Why would you do that?” he asks because he knows Tony has some surprisingly kind reason for doing that.

He shrugs, “I figured after being yelled at as much as you have you probably didn’t like hearing people yell now. Probably triggers a stress response so we all freak out when you aren’t in the room.”

We all. Peter frowns because it isn’t just Tony, he’d made that order to everyone and he knows they’ll all listen, even Natasha even though she’s the most likely to tell Tony no. Partially because of sibling rivalry and also because she seems the least afraid of him next to Rhodey. “You told everyone not to yell in my presence because you didn’t want to stress me out? I can handle yelling, I’m not glass.” He doesn’t know why he’s prickling to this when its actually incredibly kind of Tony, and so unexpected the way all his kindnesses have been.

Tony doesn’t look ruffled though, instead he looks almost a little proud. “Oh I know you aren’t glass, and this isn’t a question of whether or not you can handle something. Its more making sure you don’t need to, not when you’re clearly still waiting for the shoe to drop. After that you can be fair game if you really want it,” he says, lips twitching up a little.

Peter loses that sharp edge of feeling he’d had and relaxes. “Thank you,” he says softly, “you don’t need to do any of that.”

Tony shakes his head though, “basic care, its not an issue and its always kind of a funny test of self control. You don’t understand Italian though, so I do most of my venting that way.”

So Peter has noticed. “I have a hard time reconciling this with someone who’s supposedly dangerous,” he says, blurting it out accidentally.

Tony doesn’t take offense to it, he just looks Peter up and down. “People aren’t as simple as we like to think and being capable of murder doesn’t make me incapable of not being a dick. I wouldn’t hurt you, I don’t have reason to, but I’m known as the Merchant of Death for a reason.”

Merchant of Death, he’s heard that before but he can’t remember where. Doesn’t matter know because he can figure out what that means at least in part. “Why do you keep doing that, reminding me that you’re like... dangerous or whatever?”

“Because I don’t want you to be surprised,” Tony tells him. “Its a lot easier to make sure that doesn’t happen if you know what to expect.”

“Why does that matter to you though?” It shouldn’t, Peter isn’t his responsibility and he’s surprisingly caring for someone who has no reason to be. Peter has had friends that went less out of their way to accommodate for him than Tony has with zero connection to him.

“People fear me, but that doesn’t always mean that they won’t test me. Apparently Beck didn’t even tell you how he made his money and that’s a bad idea, keeping someone in the dark like that. God knows what would have happened to you if I had more bad intentions than screwing with your ex’s life.”

Peter frowns again because its hard, figuring out what the hell is going on in Tony’s head. “So you’re being honest with me in case what, someone else kidnaps me? Because that seems unlikely.” What are the chances he’d be kidnapped by another mob? He didn’t even know he was affiliated with the first one in any way so it seems a bit much to be kidnapped by a third.

“Or worse, yes. And its not as unlikely as you think, none of us are exactly pleasant to piss off and I’ve got an impressive talent for pissing people off. Everyone who’s around me is a target but you’re the only one who refuses to carry a gun.” Right, Peter had forgot about that. He hadn’t anticipated reacting so strongly but given the circumstances he thinks his meltdown wasn’t as bad as it could have been and Tony dropped the idea of him carrying around a gun for protection real quick.

“My uncle Ben got shot and killed in a robbery gone wrong when I was a teenager,” Peter says. “And I didn’t like guns before that either. Or anything lethal.” Expect Quent, if Tony’s hinting is to be believed but then he’s always had a thing for bad boys. Women? His taste is normal and results in pretty good relationships in his experience. Men? He seemingly can’t pick them any worse than he has previously and Quent is a whole new level of garbage for him.

Tony looks him over for a moment, “you should learn some self defense though, if for no other reason than it being generally useful. Natasha would probably be happy to teach you.”

Peter wrinkles his nose, “can I get someone less terrifying?”

He doesn’t expect it when Tony cracks up laughing but it looks a lot nicer on him than the air of seriousness that usually taints his presence. “She might be the least scary we’ve got,” he tells Peter and starts laughing harder at whatever face he’s making.

“If that’s the least scary you’ve got I feel so bad for anyone who tries to fuck with you.”

Peter doesn’t take to self defense well and Natasha clearly doesn’t know what to do with that, but that makes it kind of fun to watch. “None of this is difficult, what is so confusing to you that you?” she asks Peter, who is on the floor breathing hard.

“Nothing, he just doesn’t want to hurt you,” Bucky says from the other side of the room where he’s watching. Tony raises an eyebrow but Bucky only shrugs.

Natasha rolls her eyes at Peter, “trust me, there’s no way you can do any real damage to me. First of all you’re weak, second of all you have almost no skills, and third, I have a high pain tolerance anyway. Get up and stop worrying about doing damage you can’t even do,” Natasha tells him.

Its easy to see Peter isn’t suited to this, at least not the way Natasha is teaching it. “Just give him a basic lesson in self defense moves, none lethal ways for him to buy himself enough time to get out of a given situation,” Tony tells her. “He’ll be resistant to learning much else.” Peter has made it clear he has a distaste for hurting people in any manner but especially the kind of brutal manner Natasha is used to and desensitized from.

“You can get out of a situation faster if you stab them,” Natasha tells Peter specifically and he does that thing that he does sometimes when he’s reminded that he’s in an environment that’s more violent than he agrees with.

He gives Natasha an unimpressed look with a surprising amount of steely strength in his gaze. “I’m not stabbing people because you think that’s the only way to get anything done,” he snaps. His response clearly comes as a surprise to Natasha and Bucky but not so much to Tony. He’d been that immediately brave off the bat with him and he didn’t lose his confidence when he found out who he was. Peter has a quiet kind of strength that Tony admires and Natasha doesn’t know what to do with given that people don’t often test her. She’s unnerving at the very least, its why Tony chose her specifically to be his lead enforcer. That, and people are stupid enough to underestimate her because she’s a woman.

Natasha looks him over for a long moment, “alright, then.”

For the next hour Natasha does a slightly better job teaching Peter how to break holds and other simple self defense moves that he picks up on a little faster than how to properly maim someone. Peter doesn’t like it any, that much is obvious, but he does pay attention to Natasha and does his best to pick up what she’s trying to teach at least until Natasha gets bored enough to dismiss him.

“What, don’t like that this one didn’t immediately think he could take you out?” Tony asks her as she walks over. Across the room Bucky snorts and laughs probably because he’s seen people try and fail about a million times. Hell, at this point he’s failed at it a million times too. He might have trained her but she’s better at killing people than he is, try as he might. Probably because he actually likes people and seems to feel the fallout of having killed someone in a way Natasha doesn’t. Tony isn’t sure if she’s good at compartmentalizing or if she actually doesn’t feel anything about it and he doesn’t care either, her skills suit him.

Her lips quirk up a bit at the corners and she shakes her head. “No, actually. Its refreshing to have someone in here who immediately knows I can kick his ass and have something to teach. I approve,” she tells him.

Tony frowns, “what?”

“Of Peter, I approve. We all do, but Rhodey seems to think you’ll listen to me the best for whatever reason. I think you’d listen to him but what do I know, I’m only your sister,” she mumbles, shaking her head and walking off.

“Not that you admit that out loud often,” Tony calls after her in a teasing manner.

“Like you admit you’re related to Howard often either, you should understand,” Natasha tells him, grinning at him as she leaves the room.

“God, she’s fucking unsettling when she smiles,” Bucky says, coming up beside him.

Tony looks him over and he’s got that stupid lovestruck look on his face like he always does. Tony rolls his eyes, “just ask her out, god. What the fuck are you waiting for, Judgement Day?”

“You don’t even believe in God,” Bucky points out.

“Yeah, exactly. You’re waiting for a moment that’s never going to come so make your own moment. And what’s this about approving of Peter?”

Peter doesn’t expect the clothes, or the shoes, or anything else Tony must have done research on to get right. Everything is exactly the kind of thing he would have picked up for himself if he had the chance and its sweet, if a little unnerving at the same time.

“This is cute,” Natasha says, picking up a dress as she walks in without bothering to knock. He’s learned that she’s a bit of a pest when she likes people, but it takes her a lot of time to warm up to them.

“I can’t imagine you wearing a dress,” he tells her. All he’s seen her in is all black outfits that looked a bit like she was ready to rob someone and after mentioning her style choices to her once he discovered they were purposeful, and also a bit of a joke. She’s got a weird sense of humor but Peter can deal with that.

“I wear dresses all the time, you just don’t see me in them,” she tells Peter, grinning. “You should wear this later,” she adds, handing him the dress.

He takes it, frowning. “O...kay? Am I supposed to be going somewhere?”

She nods, “yes, on a date with Tony because he’s never going to ask you and we’re all tired of waiting around.” Peter must look more confused and it makes Natasha roll her eyes. “Look, normally I stay out of anything that isn’t a stabbing but the fact that you guys are a good match is clear and I doubt another good match for Tony is going to just show up. He’s difficult to get along with.”

Peter has never found that to be true. “I don’t see how he’s even still single. I mean yeah, maybe the guy runs a mob and he’s like... a little overdramatic and whatever but he’s really generous.”

Natasha laughs, “no, he’s not. He’s mean, cruel, sometimes even delights in it, and generally speaking an arrogant asshole. Usually you have to know him to get past all that but its like you skipped that and went straight to part where you find out he has personality traits that aren’t threatening to kill someone. And he listens to you.”

She says that like its important but Tony listens to everyone. “I don’t see why you didn’t try and get him and Rhodey together if that was a concern.” Rhodey knows him better than anyone, that much is clear so it seems to Peter that he’d be a better choice.

Judging from the look on Natasha’s face its not as good an idea as he thought it was. “He’s married to Pepper. We need to work on your observation skills if you didn’t notice the ring. Its not exactly like its hard to see,” she says. Now that Peter thinks about it he had noticed a silver ring, but hadn’t clued in to the fact that it was on his ring finger. Maybe Natasha has a point about his observation skills.

“What makes you think Tony even has an interest?” He knows he’s an unusual case but he’s not a total dunce in the observation department so he knows its because he’s got this thing with domestic violence, has no patience for it. He’s not so sure his... appreciation goes beyond that.

“You tell him ‘no.’ Trust me there’s nothing Tony values more than people who aren’t afraid of him. Even if he’s acted like a total Bond villain in an attempt to seem all dangerous or whatever. You should know that I’m actually the dangerous one, Tony’s like a grumpy puppy. He seems mean but he actually just wants a treat,” Natasha says, grinning.

Bucky is right, it is unnerving when she smiles. “What makes you think I’m interested?”

“The fact that you took this long to ask that,” she points out.

Alright, he’ll give her that. So he smiles a little, sitting on the edge of his bed, dress still in hand. “He does kind of act like a Bond villain. You know people are afraid of him because no one points it out,” he says, snickering.

Natasha snorts and starts laughing and just like that its like he’s like he’s broken through some kind of barrier that makes Natasha chatter and a hell of a lot weirder, but not in a bad way. Peter finds her less intimidating when she’s not staring through him like she can see his thoughts, and he also finds he likes her sense of humor when he’s not just getting bits and pieces of it.

“You don’t think this is too soon, do you?” he asks her as she leaves.

She shrugs, “probably, but the good news is that Tony has a bad habit of being one hundred percent in or one hundred percent out, he doesn’t do middle ground well. So if you let him, he’ll be more than devoted to you and you know what that looks like,” she says.

Yeah, he does so he nods. “Okay.”

#starker #tony stark x peter parker #mob au #starker mob au

101 notes · View notes

babybottlepop96 · 3 years ago

Text

Home Again Chapter 1

Jean x Marco

Summary: Jeana and Marco have been friends since the tender ages of 5 and 7. They grow together and fall in love.... then Jean disappears.

Warnings: This story will contains mentions of past rape and abuse. The violence parts will probably be descriptive, but the rape will not be. There will be eventual smut further along into the story.

~20 Years Ago~

"Jean, honey, this is mommy's new boss, Mr. Bott. He is the man who is going to help us, so I need you to be on your best behavior, okay?" The small five year old with ash blonde hair, dark brown undercut and honey golden eyes nodded his head as he stared at the tall dark haired man with dark chocolate eyes.

"Nice to meet you Master Jean." The man smiled down at the boy with a warm smile. "This is my son, Marco, he just turned seven a few months ago. Heard you enjoy dinosaurs and superheroes?" Jean nodded as he stared at the boy just two years older than himself with wide eyes, mapping out all the freckles along his tanned skin, milk chocolate eyes staring back into his own with a smile that could make the grumpiest of men relax. "Marco has a boatload of dinosaur and superhero toys, Marco, why don't you show Jean your room?" Marco smiled, grabbing Jean's hand and dragging him up the giant spiral staircase to the second floor.

Once inside the room, Jean's jaw dropped, the size of Marco's bedroom was bigger than his whole house combined. The ceiling was high with detailed trim along the edges, painted in a dark brown and a pale maroon shade of red. The bed was bigger than what any seven year old should have, a giant flat screen tv was mounted onto the wall across from the bed and games, movies and toys filled the rest of the room. "Do you want to play a video game? I have Spyro the dragon, Crash Bandicoot, Mario Kart?" The freckles kid asked, naming off games while setting up one of the many gaming consoles he owned.

"I… ummm.." Jean stood there nervously, rocking on his feet while twiddling his tiny thumbs. "I've never played a video game before." He looked up to see Marco smiling at him.

"That's okay! I'll teach you! We can start with Mario Kart, it's a multiplayer game, so I'll be able to teach you!" He smiled proudly as if he just won first place at the spelling bee.

"Oh, okay! Thank you!" Jean grabbed the controller Marco handed out to him with shaky hands. The two sat down on the squishy blue and purple bean bag chairs and started a game, Marco showing him how to pick his character, how to move and control the kart and how to throw the special abilities gained when hitting the boxes with the question marks.

"So, Jean, what's your favorite color?"

"Purple." Jean spoke as he tried to concentrate on what he was doing on the screen, still having a bit of trouble with the turns.

"Cool! Mines red!" Marco spoke as he gestures to the room around them.

"Favorite food?" Jean asked, stealing a glance at the older kid next to him, he couldn't help but smile, Marco's smile was infectious.

"Spaghetti! Well, all kinds of pasta! Penne, ravioli, ricotta-"

"I thought ricotta was a cheese?" Jean questioned, he wasn't actually sure himself, he just knew that cheese was a luxury in his home, never having enough money most of the time for really fancy things like cheeses.

"Oh, yeah! It is!" Marco giggled, "I just really like ricotta cheese." Jean giggled too, this kid was alright. "You're my new best friend, Jean."

~8 Years Later~

"Will you just shut up, Yeager?" A thirteen year old Jean Kirstein, as calmly as he could, spoke with his fist balled up at his sides as he walked out of the middle school building.

"Come on, Kirstein, didn't your poor piss excuse for a mother teach you it isn't nice to tell people to shut up?" Eren, the school bully, asshole and dick, in Jean's opinion, insulted. That's when Jean's resolve faded into nothing and landed a swift punch to the tanned, unblemished skin, a crunch was heard throughout the whole parking lot. Eren fell to the ground but quickly regained his strength and landed a kick to Jean's guy. The wind was knocked from Jean's lungs, but his anger was dominant. He lunged for the bastard who insulted his mother, the only parent he ever knew who worked her ass off to make sure he survived, to give the douche-nozzle a good pounding, but warm, strong arms held him back before hos fist could collide with it's intended target.

"Jean." A warm voice whispered in his ear, Marco. He relaxed in the freckles arms but he was still livid. "Let's go." Then, he was dragged off to the black Chevy Impala.

"Is that your boyfriend Horse Face? Man, I knew you were fruity but seriously? You could do better!" Jean almost got out Marco's grip, but the taller, older teen had his grip firm and all but threw the teen into the back seat.

"Jean-"

"No, don't start Marco! He taunted me about how I have to live my life, insulted my mother, then insulted you! He deserved to get his lights punched out!" Jean yelled, unshed tears forming in the corners of his Carmel eyes, threatening to spill any second. Marco just simply drew the younger into his arms and the driver drove towards Bott Manor. "He… he doesn't have to be so mean! I never did anything to him!"

When they finally pulled into the Manor, Marco led Jean to his room, the same room they first became friends in eight years ago. The stuffed animals and small toys are now replaced with books, CDs and even more games and movies. Marco sat them down on the bed and neither spoke for a few minutes. "He was right, ya know." Marco finally spoke and Jean looked at him like he had four heads. "You could do better than me, if we were together."

"Marco Bott, you stop right there! No one could ever replace you! You are literally the best person alive! If I had the balls to kiss you I would!" Jean and Marco's eyes widened and Jean turned into a blushing, flustered mess. "Oh my god! I'm so sorry! I.. I don't know why I said tha-", but Jean couldn't finish, Marco's lips pressed firmly against his in a gentle yet passionate kiss that spoke thousands of words and so many feelings.

"I love you Jean." Marco whispered as they pulled apart, foreheads still touching as both tried to regain their breath and slow their hearts. Jean cupped Marco's face in his hands and kissed him again.

"I love you too, Marco."

~2 Years Later~

Jean Kirstein, fifteen year old freshman at Trost High, walked through the park on his way home after work. He hates his job, hates working behind the counter at the local Taco Bell, hates that Eren works there too in the kitchen as a prep cook, hates dealing with annoying ass customers with snarky attitudes complaining that their crunch wrap supreme doesn't have enough sour cream. Well sorry, Karen, I don't make the fucking food nor do I determine how much sour cream goes on it. Today was a particularly bad day, Eren called off claiming he was sick when Jean really knew he was out with his "boyfriend" leaving him to prepare food and take orders. Then someone took a dump on the men's bathroom floor, didn't even try to aim for the fucking toilet! Just took a shot right there in the middle of the goddamn floor which he had to clean up himself while his manager bitched about him not doing his job at the counter. All Jean wanted to do was go home, talk to his boyfriend for a little before he eventually went to bed and got up early the next day for school.

It was a simple request that he wished for while the clock ticked by slowly. Jean was so into his own head, he never heard the footsteps coming up behind him until it was too late. A wet cloth covered his nose and mouth, his eyes widened for a second before the world faded to black.

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

"We have to find him!" Marco shouted at his father who was looking at him with a solemn expression. Marco paced back and forth in front of his father's desk, hands taking through his u kept hair. He has barely slept a wink since Jean vanished three days ago, his mind wondering about all the worst scenarios it could think of.

"We are trying, son, but we have no evidence of anything taking place. No struggle, no personal belongings, nothing to suggest anything has even happened."

"But Jean couldn't have just vanished into thin air! He wouldn't run away either! He loved his mom too much to just up and leave her and me…" Marco trailed off, thinking about his and Jean's time together over the last two years. Picnic and arcade dates, eating pizza and hot wings while they binge watched their favorite tv series at that moment, the soft and gentle kisses they shared between one another before they parted ways, always promising to text each other once they got home, letting the other one know they got there safe. That's the single most reason why Marco knew something was wrong. Neither of them forgot to send the 'im home safe and sound' text. Not once, in the ten years that they've known each other, did they miss sending that text. Even as children and Marco's father gave Mrs. Kirstein a cell phone as a gift to keep in contact, did they miss THAT text.

"Son, we are doing everything we can to find Jean. But we also need to think rationally, Jean might not ever be found." Marco froze at those words, Jean may be lost forever? He may never see those honey eyes, beautiful smile, perfect sketches and vibrant paintings painted by those slender pale hands and fingers? May never run his hands through those soft locks of ash and brown ever again? That's when Marco broke, he screamed and fell to the floor in a fetal position on the floor. His father looked at him with hurt in his own dark chocolate eyes, for him, his son and Jean's mother who was currently out looking for her only child as they speak. Don Bott rose from his leather chair and walked around the desk, kneeling in front of his son. He put his hand on his back and whispered a pained, "I'm sorry, Marco."

~10 Years Later (Present Day)~

Here he was, once again, at an underground auction. Mr. Bott hated these things, but he had no other choice, ever since Mrs. Kirstein passed away three years ago from a drunk driving accident, he hasn't been able to find someone who cleaned as well as she had. Every person he hired had an attitude or just didn't speak at all, always forgetting to dust the book shelves or take out the trash. So he relented and took up on Mr. Ackerman's suggestion to go to an auction. Getting there early to get a good seat, Mr. Bott, along with Mr. Ackerman, Mr. Braun and Mr. Hoover, the Dons of their respected parts of New York City, all sat down to converse while the auction for the…. Pleasure portion of the auction slowly came to a close. Mr. Bott cringed as the scum of New York bid money on these poor people just for the gratification of getting their dick in a hole.

"And now for our last and best prize of the night!" The auctioneer spoke as the Dons sighed in relief, none of them liked the idea of people being sold for pleasure as they themselves, tried for years to get it under control but never succeeding. "This one has been in the business for ten years, used and a bit rough looking, but this little beauty will be the best fuck you ever had. Clean and pliant, not a bad body either if I do say so myself. Number 54!" The announcer spoke as someone roughly shoved a young man out into the center of the room. The numbers flying from the crowd started pouring in left and right and it got the Dons wondering whom this "prize" was. "Three-thousand!" "Ten-thousand!" "Twenty Five-thousand!"

"Two hundred-thousand!" The crowd went quiet after hearing the deep booming voice coming from the front row.

"Two hundred-thousand! Going once! Going twice! Sold! To Do Bott!" The young man was then hauled out of the room to be prepped for leaving the facility.

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

"Dad! I'm home! Reiner, Bert, Mikasa, Eren and Armin are here too!" Marco called from the doorway as he and the others walked into the Manor. "Dad?!"

"In the living room son!" He heard his father call and the group walked towards the sound.

"What's up? We heard your voicemail and hauled ass here. What happened?" Marco asked as soon as he saw his father, eyes brimmed with tears and a small smile. The others in the room, specifically Dr. Yeager, looked at them, small sad but slightly happy smiles on their faces. "What's going on here?" The group looked at each other, confused and concern plastered on their faces. Once Mr. Bott moved to the side and gestured to the couch, it was then that the group realized what was happening. On the couch asleep, lay a thin pale man, dark circles under his eyes, bruises and scars and even some fresh wounds, now neatly stitched up thanks to Dr. Yeager, littering his almost naked form. Marco stared at the man laying on the pale green couch and tears flooded down his cheeks. "Jean?"

#attack on titan #Jean Krischtein #marco bott #jean x marco #kidnapping #abuse #eventual smut #jeans mom #marcos dad #eren yeager #mafia au #reiner #bert #mikasa #armin #erens dad

6 notes · View notes

what-a-treat-nz · 4 years ago

Text

World Book Challenge: China

Officially, the People's Republic of China (PRC). It is the world's most populous country, with a population of around 1.4 billion. It covers approximately 9.6 million square kilometers, and is officially divided into 23 provinces, five autonomous regions, four direct-controlled municipalities (Beijing, Tianjin, Shanghai, and Chongqing), and the special administrative regions of Hong Kong and Macau.

The areas in dark green are under direct Chinese control; the areas in light green (Tibet and Taiwan) are contested. For the purposes of this challenge, I’m treating China, Tibet and Taiwan as three separate countries. Because I can.

Number of Chinese people in New Zealand: As of the 2013 Census, there were 163,104 people of “Chinese (not further defined)” ethnicity in New Zealand - 10,008 of those were in Wellington City.

Have I been there? Yes! I visited Shanghai with my Dad in December 2011. I bought a really nice coat, had tea that tasted like warm Fanta (it was oddly addictive), and got hugged by Dave Grohl. So, the usual Chinese experiences, really.

I also had Peking Duck for the first time in my life, and holy hell I didn’t know what I was missing. I’ve tried to make up for it by eating copious amounts of it since.

The books

For “China” on my reading challenge, I read three fantasy novels - Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation, by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu, and the final two books of the Poppy War trilogy (The Dragon Republic and The Burning God) by R. F. Kuang, a Chinese-American author.

Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation (魔道祖师 / Mó Dào Zǔ Shī)

(Book 30 of 2021)

Given the fact that I have an entire subsection of my blog about how much I love the live-action TV show based on this book, it probably shouldn’t be a surprise that I had Mó Dào Zǔ Shī at the top of my list of Chinese books to read.

Mó Dào Zǔ Shī tells the story of Wei Wuxian, a loathed cultivator of dark and demonic arts who resurrects 16 years after his tragic death. His return to the world brings him to reunite with the people in his first life, including his soulmate, the honored Lan Wangji (who mourned him for 16 years, during which he branded himself with the same mark as Wei Wuxian and kept his memory alive and I’m okay, I promise). Wei Wuxian then begins to remember his time before his demise 16 years ago, from his beginnings as a young cultivator to his descent to dark magic. Together, they solve a mystery linked to a dark tragedy from Wei Wuxian’s first life, then live happily ever after.

This novel was originally published on the Chinese web novel site JJWXC from October 31, 2015 - March 1, 2016, with additional side stories that continue to be released sporadically. The revised version of the main story was later published online until September 7, 2016. A paperback version was released on December 12, 2016, with a total of four volumes in traditional Chinese. The first of three planned volumes in simplified Chinese, titled Wuji, was released in 2018, but release of the following installments has stalled after the locking of the novel on JJWXC since January 2019.

Mó Dào Zǔ Shī isn’t officially available in English, and given that it depicts an explicit danmei relationship between Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji, I don’t think we’ll ever see an official version. Though there are official translations into Korean, Thai, Vietnamese, Russian, Japanese, and Burmese, and the tour for the TV traveled to Toronto, Los Angeles and New York, so maybe one day there will be an official translation.

For now though, you can read the entire novel for free at Exiled Rebels Scanlations, where it has been translated in full by a then-highschooler called “K-san”. It’s hard to actually judge the merits of the writing of the original novel, given I was reading an unofficial translation, but that was actually half of the sweetness of it. It was kinda rough - K-san tweaked the terms they used as they gained more confidence with the translation, and I enjoyed reading the translator and editor notes that accompanied most chapters - especially notes such as “we’re translating as fast as we can, stop asking for faster updates!”. It felt really organic and friendly, and the story is good (though much gorier than the TV show and good god boys, learn what lube is, it’ll make your lives better I promise).

I read the book more as a companion to the TV show though, rather than a novel on it’s own merits, so I’m not sure I can judge it as a novel on it’s own merits. Though the book did teach me one very important piece of information: Lan Wangji canonically smells of sandalwood.

Would I read it again? If an official English translation comes out, I’d probably read that. I’m more likely to watch the TV show again, or dive into one of the sesquillion Untamed fanfics on AO3 ( Lán Zhàn | Lán Wàngjī/Wèi Yīng | Wèi Wúxiàn was the most popular ship on AO3 in 2020, with 12,878 new works about these characters being published that year).

The Dragon Republic and The Burning God

(Books 34 and 35 of 2021)

I read The Poppy War and The Dragon Republic back in September 2019 (when I wasn’t counting how many books I was reading, but I did have a record of them), and I decided to re-read The Dragon Republic because I couldn’t exactly remember where the story was up to.

And it’s a good thing I did, as something I thought happened at the end of The Dragon Republic actually happened at the end of The Poppy War, so oops?

The Poppy War trilogy is a grimdark fantasy novel set in fantasy China, with a Chinese protagonist and written by a Chinese-American author. It’s spectacular. The trilogy draws its plot and politics from mid-20th-century China, though it’s atmosphere is more inspired by the Song dynasty. The conflict in the first book is based on the Second Sino-Japanese War (though this time, it’s the Chinese empire against the Japanese empire), in the second on the start of the Chinese civil war (Chinese empire against nascent Republican movement), and in the third on the end of Chinese civil war (Republicans versus not-Republicans).

It’s a massive trilogy. It’s incredibly complex, with a huge scale and massive numbers of characters, though the fact it’s all seen through Rin’s eyes (with the occasional first and last chapter from the point of view of other characters) helps.

The story follows that of Fang Runin, better known as Rin, a poor war orphan in southern Nikara who trains in secret to test into the elite Sinegard Academy. Throughout the trilogy she deals with racism, sexism, elitism...most of the isms, really. Author R.F. Kuang said that Rin's life is meant to parallel the trajectory of Mao Zedong, and I had fun trying to match events in Chinese history to the events in the book (the easiest ones to spot are the Rape of Nanjing, the nuclear bombing of Japan and the Long March).

I don’t remember Mao Zedong having the power to call on a fire god, however. It’s probably a good thing that’s not something that happened in real life China, as Mao’s policies killed enough people without him literally being able to spit fire.

I described the first book as “If Kvothe from The Name of the Wind was female, Chinese, and allowed to say fuck.” Those two books felt really similar to me - they’re very much your “outsider is accepted to elite academy, winds up pissing off most of their classmates and chooses an obscure major to specialise in before being thrown into a conflict they are key to winning.” But honestly, I preferred the Poppy War trilogy, even if the final book did get super dark.

Rin is a really refreshing character, and the world seen through her eyes is a very different place to one I’m used to reading about. Kuang said that she "chose to write a fantasy reinterpretation of China's twentieth century, because that was the kind of story I wasn't finding on bookshelves", and I’m so glad she did. The world needs more books like this. I’m as pasty and as white as they come, and I loved reading a book where the heroine was authentically Chinese. This isn’t a pakeha author trying to fit themselves into someone else’s shoes - this is someone with a deep understanding of Chinese military history and collective trauma using that understanding and pain to build a new fantasy world.

I loved it, and if you can stomach war scenes, I recommend this trilogy.

Will I read the Poppy War trilogy again? I might do. It’s a bit darker and more desperate than I usually read - particularly The Burning God - but I did enjoy them. So that’s a firm “never say never”.

Bonus book!

These Violent Delights

I read NZ-Chinese author Chloe Gong’s These Violent Delights earlier this year (book number 20 of 2021), before I set myself this challenge, so it doesn’t technically count as an entry for “China” in my book challenge. But it is amazing, and I love it, so I wanted to give it a quick shout out here (because if we’re talking fantasy reimaginings of Chinese 20th century history by Chinese diaspora authors...).

These Violent Delights relocates the story of Romeo and Juliet to 1920s Shanghai, casting the two leads as the heirs to rival gangs. It’s brilliant, it’s beautiful, there were sentences that made me stop and gasp for the sheer delight of having read them, and there’s a monster made of bugs driving the citizens of Shanghai insane. The way Gong has woven the characters from the play into their 1920s counterparts is delightful (I say this as someone who’s never actually read the play, though I think I saw the Leonardo DiCaprio movie because it was difficult to be a tween in the late 90s and not be exposed to his films).

15/10, would definitely read it again, it’s been on the New York Times bestseller list for weeks for a very, very good reason. Stop reading this blog and go get a copy. Now.

The feast

I admit, using China as my first country may have been a bit of a cop out, given my familiarity with Chinese food - though, living in a Western country, I’ve probably eaten more Westernised Chinese food than authentic Chinese food.

Which is why I was chuffed to learn that spring rolls are, actually, authentic Chinese food. I always thought they were a Westernisation, like sweet and sour pork or fortune cookies.

For my Chinese feast, I turned to The Woks of Life, a delightful Chinese cooking blog that I can’t open without being inspired to cook like 9 million things.

When I started this project, I originally was only going to cook one dish from each country. I figured I’d go easy on myself for China, and make 花生酥 (hua sheng su), a traditional sesame peanut brittle.

It’s something I’ve made before - I make little bags of it for my colleagues each lunar new year.

I don’t follow the Woks of Life recipe exactly - for example, I’ve never once roasted and shelled my own peanuts. I tend to use a mix of blanched and pre-roasted peanuts in my 花生酥, and I think it comes out okay. Next time I’m going to increase the amount of sugar I use - I find that 270g of rock sugar is not quite enough to cover the peanuts totally. Which is a pain. Next time I think I’ll use 300g, and turn the heating on in my kitchen so it’s warmer, to stop the brittle from hardening before I can properly get it into the tray to cool.

But then I changed my mind, and decided to throw a full on feast.

For the feast I threw, I made two more dishes from the Woks of Life - Easy Peking Duck with Mandarin Pancakes, and 年糕 (nian gao), or stir-fried rice cakes (though I did them with chicken, not pork, as that’s what I had in my freezer). I also cooked up some spring rolls, as I had them leftover in my freezer from my housewarming (for which I over catered, because I cannot do anything but over cater any event I throw). I should have marinated the duck longer. That one was on me.

I also made some 核桃酥 (he tao su), walnut cookies, which were delicious and I definitely want to make again. I think I’ll add some hazelnuts in as well for additional crunch, and make them slightly smaller - they were 12 very big cookies.

But delicious cookies.

Kisu was most distressed that we did not feed her anything from this feast.

The Playlist

I ended up finding this “Chinese Indie & Rock” playlist on Spotify, which I really enjoyed. I could understand none of the songs, but I enjoyed the heck out of a lot of them. I’ll probably keep listening to this playlist - they were definitely my sort of jams.

8 notes · View notes

rockrevoltmagazine · 4 years ago

Text

INTERVIEW: TODD MICHAEL HALL

RockRevolt Magazine: Lets talk about your debut solo album coming out in early May, Sonic Healing. I gave it a listen and fans of classic rock should be very excited for this record. There’s no questions bands that had a major influence on you such as Boston, Rush & Foreigner influenced the direction of this album. Sonic Healing could plug right into this era. Tell us how it all came together.

TODD MICHAEL HALL: I have wanted to do an old school rock album for quite a few years now. Something I talked with Joe at Rat Pack Records about. I knew Joe because he negotiated with my band Riot and the last Riot album almost got released on Rat Pack Records. At the time Joe asked if I might want to do a solo album. He was thinking something in the metal vain, I was thinking more old school rock. It didn’t end up going anywhere at the time. Then after being on The Voice, the song “Juke Box Hero,” which I did and I consider to be in the classic rock category. I don’t consider it hair metal like Blake Shelton did. Not sure why he jumped to hair metal, apparently when people hear me they think of hair metal. Anyway it was kind of hitting, it had like a million views on YouTube. So then I call up Joe and said I’m telling you I really want to do something in the classic rock vain. I have a bunch of songs written, can you hook me up with someone that can help me transform them into hard rock. The thing is when I write as a songwriter I write by myself. I play on acoustic guitar so what tends to come out is more singer/songwriter type stuff. He said I have this guy, and it happened to be Kurdt Vanderhoof from Metal Church. He said let me see if he’s interested. He talked to him and got back to me and said Kurdt loves classic rock, it’s a big influence on him also. He wants to talk. We got on a Zoom call and talked about what each of us had in mind. I told him I was looking for that riff oriented, melodic vocal, catchy chorus kind of stuff, feel good rock. He and I joke that we are both old enough to remember the KTEL commercial about freedom rock. With the hippie looking dude who says what’s that? The other guy is like that’s freedom rock. Well turn it up. (both of us laughing as I remember the commercial as well – classic). To this day Kurdt and I will be joking, turn it up dude. Kurdt’s a great guy, we just had a lot in common. Funny thing is I loaded up like 20 of my songs and suggested we just use some or all of it. He said it was great stuff and we can come back to that but why don’t we start with me just pouring out and writing some stuff and see what happens. Which was his polite way of saying Todd we’re not going to use your crap (joking). I get where is coming from. I never really experienced this before, he had to finish up something in Seattle and he got to his place in Southern CA and he called me and said I’m going to start writing now. A few days later he sent me five songs. Then he’s just sending like a song a day. I got another one then another. Over a period of like 21 days he sent me 18 songs that happened to be during the shutdown. I put total focus on it. I would walk around, listen to the songs and they were just singing to me. It was like he and I were having a battle. I would be like I just loaded one up to Dropbox and he would be like, yeah I’m loading up one tonight. Just back and forth. Literally these songs were written over the course of four weeks, last March into April. Then we did the final recordings not long after that. The album has been in the can since June it just took a long time to get all the promo material together with all the shutdowns. We really liked what he was doing and what we came up with. We just never got around to the songs I brought to him originally. It ended up being an all Kurdt and Todd thing.

How about the other parts on the album such as bass and drums? How did you handle that?

We recorded during the shutdown. Kurdt had his own home studio and I had the same thing. Kurdt basically played the bass and the drums on this as well, it’s all us. Of course for the video we wanted to have an entire band and the videographer, Jamie Brown, is the one that found people for us. The bass player is a fella named Drew Heart, he’s actually a singer from Las Vegas. He has a few different bands that he’s in. He’s also a singer on an album with Kurdt called Vanderhoof I think from the 90’s, he had some experience with Kurdt as well coincidentally. He’s not a bass player by trade but was in the video. It turns out he’s from Michigan and we got along really well. We have a lot of the same influences. It was fun to have him around, I would love to have him in a band, he would be great backup vocals. I’m not use to having singers in the bands I’m in. The drummer in video was a guy named Abel. It’s kind of a funny story. The “Overdrive” video was the second video we filmed. Day one we filmed a video for “Let Loose Tonight” and the drummer in that video is a different guy named Dustin and he wasn’t feeling well so the night before the second video Jamie called up Abel and asked if he could show up the next day and learn the song. He did an incredible job and really helped make the video great as he put on a great show.

youtube

Do you plan on touring behind the record?

Kurdt and I both have a lot of excitement behind the album, we both say it’s something we’d buy. We are excited to present it live but the challenge is if there is enough demand. From my time on The Voice a lot of people in my hometown would like to see that. Then maybe book some other shows locally over the course of a weekend. I know Kurdt has some people in mind to play with us if we were going to do something. But right now we are not sure we’ll have to see as things open back up.

Do you think you and Kurdt will work together again?

I would love to and I believe he feels the same way. We’ll see what happens. I remember the first album I did with Riot V, it felt magical. Then the second album we did felt more like a labor. That’s what I wonder, this first album with Kurdt was magical, so I’m curious to see how it would happen the second time around. I would say I’m definitely down for doing something again. I very much enjoy this style of music. But before then I have to record vocals for the next Riot album.

Getting into your experience on The Voice how did that come about and then of course you worked with Blake Shelton how was that?

I had seen shows like that over the years and was always somewhat interested. Then my sister got an email and said I should try out as they were having an audition in Chicago. I figured what the heck. I think there was a couple thousand people there. After I was done they said come on back tomorrow. Of course I wasn’t prepared, no change of clothes, toothbrush or anything. So I drove 5 hours back home. Then I had to prepare, I never did karaoke or have any tracks prepared so I had to get that together. So I ended up getting the “Juke Box Hero” track and Judas Priest “Another Thing Coming,” I think I did Bryan Adams “Someone Like You” and Journey “Don’t Stop Believing.” I did all but the Bryan Adams song the next day for them. It was a weird experience. Then I got a call back for a blind audition and when you are doing those you’re still in a group of 80+ people so you don’t know for sure. But I did get my shot. For me you sometimes fantasize, I wonder what could happen. But for me I didn’t think I would win or have a career in music only and not have the day job. I was going more for fun and a great experience and it was. Experiencing television and music production at that level it’s hard to describe, it’s amazing. And the people associated with the show were very friendly, nice to the musicians. Not like you are best friends, once the show is over they move on and have a new group to work with so it’s not like Blake and I are buddies. But everyone is really nice. No intent to slag the show but you don’t spend much time with your coach. Your time with the coach is on camera so there’s not a lot of interaction. Even with the song selection it’s not something you talk to them about. You’re more dealing with producers on that. Hopefully I’m not bursting anyone’s bubble on that. I would say as far as disappointments from the show, this is very minor compared to the lessons I took away. I just had this fantasy that Blake and I would sit down, have a beer together and just have a half hour to discuss influences and what we wanted to do and that wasn’t a possibility. But he’s a busy guy so I understand that.

I bet most people do have that fantasy, I’ll get on The Voice and will sit around talking music and work a plan together. But the reality is they are there for filming and drawing the audience but beyond that there’s no interaction. But it was a cool experience?

Yeah definitely. And I think if I got further that would be more the case. Before my knockout round they had to prepare me for my next song, “More Than A Feeling” by Boston if I had been back for the knockout round. If I had been back I would have been performing for Blake with the band. But we were doing it via video chat. We did chat it up a little bit. I think if you’re Todd Tillman who won for Blake’s team you probably got a little more chat time with Blake. I imagine the further you get the more personal time you get. It was a great experience. And great exposure.

Did things change for your music career or was it more of a blip and you move on?

To some extent it is kind of a blip. But you do gain followers on social media that you didn’t have before the show. That helps. I think the pop culture is a bit fickle. You see over 4 million views on my “Juke Box Hero” video and you think if I come out with a new album in a similar style I should really be able to key into this because there are so many people that liked it. Doesn’t necessarily translate that way. But I think there is so much noise and inputs and some many distractions. So I think The Voice has a certain apparatus that allows you to get a lot of attention but most of those people are more The Voice fans than your fans.

You mentioned you are working on a new album with Riot V, how’s that going?

It’s going well. I think the COVID situation had potentially two different effects on bands. One is I have all this free time for music. On the other hand it’s oh man we can’t go out and tour to support this album so why bother. And with no deadline you can kind of slack a bit and that’s kind of where the Riot album has been. We’ve had the songs written but let 2020 get away from us. We are just on hold to release the album until we can tour behind it.

Anything else going on?

I reached a point last year that my business, I run a manufacturing company for restaurant equipment so that had an impact which was stressful. Even now that orders are starting to come back it’s still tough with lack of materials so there is a ton of stress. Not a whoa is me thing, it’s just that music is a passion thing I pursue in my free time so it’s difficult to say yes at this time. It’s hard to find time for anything. At this time I don’t see me taking on any other projects. I did have the question did any famous people want to work with you because of your time on The Voice but no that really hasn’t happened.

Have you met any of your idols? If so what was that experience like?

What’s weird for me if you meet someone in like a meet n greet line I don’t consider that really a meet. I think for me getting to meet someone is to meet them as a fellow musician. That is much more along the lines of what you are asking. When I was on The Voice and I walk out and James Taylor is there, granted it was on film and we only had 10 minutes to sit and talk. To have someone like him throw a compliment your way feels pretty incredible. Also what is weird for me, for example Geoff Tate was incredibly influential to me in my younger days. There is a part of me, a little boy that still craves Geoff Tate to say hey Todd good job. I actually met him, my brother Rick had a record store and Queensryche did an in store for Operation Mindcrime. I met Geoff and I gave him a copy of my Harlot CD we produced in 1988. I told him he was a huge influence on me. Back then most independent bands like us didn’t have a CD so I figured that should impress him. Now that I’m in a band and people hand me CD’s often I get it that he was a busy guy and why does he give two shits about me. But I had this fantasy that he would listen to that and write me a note saying good job. Obviously that didn’t happen. To this day if I get approached like this, I’m not saying I’m a great person or anything like that, I’m sure I don’t get as much as Geoff Tate does but I make it a point to give it a little listen and find a way to compliment it. First of all if it’s not my taste they still went through the trouble to write and produce the song and I know how much goes into that. Getting back to it I still have this fantasy of bumping into Geoff as a fellow musician and we could talk and get to know each other. At the same time who knows maybe we have completely different views and maybe we wouldn’t get along. Sometimes you hear stories about people in general. At this point I’d say the closest I had with that was touring with Primal Fear, Ralf Scheepers is an incredible singer I had bought an album of his back in the 90’s that I really liked. It was interesting and cool to meet him. I got to know him really well and that to me is a little more along the lines of what you are talking about, a unique experience. As well as the experience with Kurdt. But in general when we are playing these festivals and Judas Priest is headlining, they have their own little dressing room and pathway. And they have people to make sure you don’t walk in there. I haven’t had much experience with the big dogs.

We all have this perception that you are all hanging out backstage but that’s obviously not that way it is.

Some of them will hang out in the normal food tent and they are around and if you are brave enough you can walk up and bug them. For me that’s not quite the same. I remember the drummer from Judas Priest was in there and our drummer is like I want to get a picture with him and he was cool but there’s a part of me that’s like you just interrupted him, you’re not really meeting them. I tend to be like I don’t want to annoy someone. Although I did with Michael Sweet and Biff Byford from Saxon and Jeff Scott Soto. So I have done that but I don’t post it to social media for me it’s more of a private thing. More of a personal memory.

Top five albums everyone should own?

Oh man that is so tough. I really loved Malice and Warrior. There was a band called The Front I really loved. But I would say if you are in the hard rock genre it would be tough not to say an Iron Maiden album like Piece of Mind, that’s a classic. Certainly in the Riot catalog you could throw Fire Down Under, not because I’m in Riot but I feel it’s a great album. I think for me it would be hard not to put Holy Diver from Dio in there. He was so incredible. I would say something by Queensryche, Operation Mindcrime.

I wish you nothing but success on the release of your first solo record. As I mentioned for a classic rock fan this is an album you should check it. Any final words?

Thanks for helping spread the word. Anyone that gives me any type of attention or shot I appreciate it. This is a passion thing and I’ve got so much joy from music over the years and just want to return the favor and bring some joy to others.

Connect with Todd Michael Hall(click icons):

INTERVIEW: TODD MICHAEL HALL was originally published on RockRevolt Mag

#Blake Shelton #Kurdt Vanderhoof #Metal Church #Riot V #Sonic Healing #The Voice #Todd Michael Hall

3 notes · View notes

p4nkow · 5 years ago

Text

D is for Dangerous - part IV

Hey hi! It took me so long to finish this part but finally here it is. I really hope you guys are gonna like this second-to-last part of this fic. Let me know what you think of it!

Part I, Part II, Part III

Summary: driven by the desire of revenge, the reader tries to take down the man who ruined her life only to find out that her plan is an utter fiasco; however she meets a man that is gonna change her life and give her the chance of a lifetime

Warnings: use of weapons and a little bit of smut

You hoped the coldness of the water might’ve helped you clear your thoughts, distracting you. As you gave yourself a look in the mirror, water droplets were running down your cheeks, falling right in the sink. Your eyes, usually so cold and full of determination, were now the reflection of chaos. Lost and devastated — that’s how you felt.

I used to work for Kuklinski. No matter how hard you tried not to think at Four’s words, they kept echoing in your head. Not that you’d heard his story, given that you had literally ran off from him. You were starting to regret it, though, given that there was one simple question that was eating you alive.

Had he been part of the assassination of your parents?

As you moved your hair off your face your hands started to shake, perfectly describing how you felt just at the thought of Four being involved in it. Now that you finally knew why was he so mad at Kuklinski, you wished you didn’t.

You had to know more. You had to know if he’d killed your parents.

And that thought gave you the strength to get out of your room — even though you felt unsteady in your own feet, you forced yourself to keep moving. You felt like a robot, walking though the cold hallways of the building without paying attention to what was surrounding you.

And when you finally found yourself in front of Four’s door, it took you five minutes to find the will to knock. You closed your hand in a fist, trying to stop it from shaking as you waited for him to open it. Your thoughts were running wild and you were torn between the desire of punching him and the one of conforming him.

And when you finally heard the lock clicking, you still hadn’t made up your mind.

His green eyes immediately found yours. You lifted your chin as he clenched his jaw, unsure what to say. You tried to remain composed as you swallowed in vain, saying in an uncertain voice “Can I come in?”

Four didn’t reply — he limited himself to nod at your question and walk aside in order to let you come into his room. “I think it’s better if you sit down.”

You didn’t like the awkwardness of the moment but Four was right. You didn’t trust your own legs, so you sat down to his mattress. Your chest rise and lower as you took a deep breath, looking at your own hands in nervousness before looking up to meet his gaze.

”Did you?”, you immediately asked. You couldn’t wait any longer.

Four narrowed his brows. “What?”

It took you all the strength you had not to make your voice shake as you asked him in a cold tone “Did you kill my parents?”

Four parted his lips, as if he was trying to process your question. His golden hair was messier than usual and God knows how much he’d slipped his fingers through it during the last hour. “Bloody hell, Eight. No. No, I didn’t. I didn’t kill your parents. I have nothing to do with it.”

You wanted to believe him. You had to. The look in his eyes — so desperate and sad — suggested you that he was being honest, and you truly wished he was. You didn’t reply, you limited yourself to nod at his words. That’s probably what pushed him to add “Please, believe me.” His voice, so soft and low, almost broke at the end of the sentence.

Even though you were trying so hard to avoid it, your eyes became teary at his words. You hurried to get rid of the few tears that had escaped and you raised your gaze to meet him once again. “I do.” You nodded to confirm your words and then you softly said “I’m— I’m sorry I just ran off.”

Four nodded as he leaned against the wall in front of you, arms crossed in his chest as his eyes never left yours. “No need to apologise. It was a bit of a shock, I know.”

“Yeah.”

Four exhaled deeply and the two of you stood quiet for a while. His past seemed to upset him, you noticed it by the shade of his eyes and by the stiffness of his posture. The fact that you were forcing him to open up was killing you, but you had to know.

“I need to know, Four.”

“I know.”

“You know it’s fair—“

“Yes, it is”, he murmured as he picked up a chair and sat on it. Even though he was in front of you, he kept the distance, which allowed you to think clearly about his words. You weren’t yourself when Four was around you.

It took him some time before he could finally find the courage to start talking about his story. “I was born in England, I think you got that from my accent. And yeah, Harry is my brother. He’s three years younger than me. The surname and the family is all we have in common, though. We never really bonded.”

Hearing of the relationship he had with his brother made you think of Emily. You wondered how she was, what was she doing, if she was thinking of you.

You started thinking of a mini-version of Four, his golden hair flying everywhere as he ran in a big, green field. And you felt incredibly sorry at the fact that he hadn’t been as lucky as you in matter of family.

“I— uhm, I might have asked you before”, you stated as he paused his speech. “What’s your realname?”

Four smiled. It wasn’t one of those forced smiles you were obliged to do as a sign of courtesy. Oh no, you’d known Four enough to know that he only smiled when he genuinely felt like doing it. He cleared his voice, rubbing his hands and saying “Billy.”

“Billy”, you repeated. You slowly nodded, trying to process the news along with the rest of the shocking ones Four revealed you. “You look like a Billy.”

“You look like a Y/N.” Your name coming from his lips sounded so different. It’d been a while since you last heard the sound of your name and it was quite a weird feeling. You were surprised by the fact that he remembered it.

“You remember.”

Four narrowed his brows and gave you a little grin. “‘f course I do.”

Geez, you truly hoped your cheeks weren’t turning bright red.

You cleared your voice and you looked away from him, playing with your hands and staying quiet for a while. But then you broke the silence by saying “How did you and Harry end up working for Kuklinski?”

There were still important matters to deal with.

Four lowered his gaze and rubbed again his hands, probably trying to find the right words. “At the age of eighteen I moved to NY and joined this group of people — they were the only friends I had. We were pretty good at parkour, actually, and we decided to use our skills to do something. To gain some money, y’know. Our business had been going on for a while when suddenly one day Harry called me. I didn’t know he’d moved to the US too, but he proposed me something. A job. At the time the idea of gaining some money by doing something I was good at tempted me. I was young and naive.”

You were trying to remain impassive at his story, bu you were miserably failing. That was Kuklinki’s power. He gave you hope, money, a purpose, but then he fucked with your life. He didn’t care about anyone but himself.

When you met Four’s eyes, you noticed they’d changed into a different shade. Darker, even deeper. “I didn’t know what part of Kuklinski’s business Harry was taking care of, until the day of the party.”

“And what did you do?” Your words were nothing but a whisper.

Four pursed his lips. “I was his ears and eyes, informing him of his enemies’ moves. He used to call me ‘the skywalker’.”

You were about to make him a question but he preceded you. “I know what you wanna ask me, and no. He never asked me to check on your parents. I didn’t even know they were involved with him until One gave me your file and asked me to recruit you.”

“He has a file on me?”

Four gave you the typical ‘Seriously? Right now?’ look and you shrugged. “He has a file on each and everyone of us.”

You slowly nodded at his words and you bit your lower lip. “When did you join the group?”

“I’d been working for Kuklinski for a few months — we were in Kiev, me and some other guys. And my girlfriend.”

Girlfriend? “Well, ex-girlfriend. She backstabbed me”, he added.

You gave him a questioning look and he leaned towards the back of the chair. “We had to spy on a powerful enemy of Kuklinski who at the time was hiding in Ukraine. Of course we took some liberties, too. We’d been told that the Kalahari — a jewel worth millions, if not even billions — was hidden in the house of an important functionary. As we broke into his apartment, someone called the police. Right before running away I’d managed to find it — God knows if I needed the money it was worth. We ran away in a rush and we had to climb an old billboard that was coming apart. I made one wrong move — I held on an old wiring but it broke on one side.”

“Geez”, you whispered.

Four pursed his lips and nodded. “To make it short, I managed to hold onto the corner of a building and as I was holding the jewel in my mouth, I asked my girlfriend to grab my hand and help me. But all she cared about was the Kalahari, so she grabbed it. I fell for six floors, maybe even more, right into a building. One was there, he showed me his plan and he recruited me. Now I’m working for a cause I believe him, I’m free from Kuklinski and my backstabbing girlfriend, along with my brother, are still working for that son of a bitch.”

“Shit, I’m sorry.”

Four slipped his fingers trough his hair and sighed deeply. “The things I’ve seen, the horrible things he made me witness—”

Four’s voice broke right in the middle of the sentence. Your heart sank at the sight of Four’s sorrow and you stood up, walking towards him. You slipped your fingers through his blonde hair, closing you eyes. His pain was almost touchable.

He raised his gaze to meet yours and your hands slipped on his cheeks. His eyes were teary and it broke your heart. Four, who had always been so strong and cocky, was falling apart in your hands. You leaned towards him and whispered “I’m sorry.”

His lips were just a few inches away from yours, but you hurried to eliminate the distance between you. Just like the first time you’d kissed him, his touch was soft but firm. He immediately placed both his hands on your cheek and the two of you stood up without backing away.

There was a difference between the two kisses, though — he didn’t reject you. Four kissed you back, deepening the moment by pulling your body close to his.

The two of you started to move back towards the bed and you made Four sit on the mattress as you sat on top of him. Your face was just a few inches away from his and his lips were so close that they almost grazed yours. In his beautiful, green eyes there was a look that you’d never seen before. The kind of look that makes you feel like if you have butterflies in your stomach.

He cupped your cheek and touched your nose with his, finally kissing you again. His touch was so soft that it gave you the goosebumps. You immediately leaned towards him, but you didn’t want to rush the situation. It was just as perfect as it was going.

Your hand slipped to his neck and then inside of his shirt, making your fingers run through his bare back. At the same time, Four’s hand was slipping through your arm with a soft touch.

His shirt was just being in the way, so you lifted it and took it out. His body was a masterpiece, with all his flaws. As you laid on top of him you gently grazed his torso, starting from his collarbone down to his lower muscles. You could feel his green eyes closely following your movements with caution.

He wanted you, you could feel and see that, and the sensation of his body pressed against yours did nothing but increase the need. But you had no chance to know how the strike could’ve been, what would’ve happened — it was a bloody dangerous mission. And that’s the reason why you wanted to enjoy every second with him, to feel at the very best all the emotions that his touch gave you.

“Eight”, he whispered, but sure as hell he wasn’t begging you to stop touching him. His hands moved to your hips, grazing your naked skin before getting rid of your tee. Four made his hands slip from your thighs to your chest, now only covered by your bra. His soft touch gave you chills and so you shrugged, making him giggle. “You’re so fuckin’ beautiful.”

You bit your lower lip at his words, placing your lips on his in a soft kiss. Your hands were exploring his chest — you just weren’t able to keep your hands to yourself.

Four explored your body, too. His calloused fingers grazed your back down to your sweatpants. You were starting to grow impatient so you backed away from his lips, placing your hand on his and pushing him to drop both your trousers and your panties. You stood up to get rid of them and right after they were long forgotten on the floor. “Bloody jeans”, you murmured as you tried to unzip them. Four giggled and helped you get rid of them in a hurry.

Your naked bodies fit perfectly and it felt so right. That thought left you breathless for a couple of moment so Four surrounded your hips with his arm and switched the positions, laying on top of you.

And immediately his hands were all over you, slipping from your bare chest to your belly and even further to your thighs. His green eyes were constantly checking on you, trying to spot the slightest change of mood, but you wanted him. You wanted him more than you have ever wanted anything or anyone in your life.

His soft and warm lips explored your chest, focusing on your boobs and teasing your nipples with his tongue. His gaze was so overwhelming that you had to look away, your hands gripping on the sheets as you tried to keep control. “No, love. Eyes on me.” He gently turned your head towards him as the other hand was firmly holding your hip.

You bit your lower lip and your hips automatically lifted against his touch as he gently kissed your lower belly. “So bloody beautiful”, He whispered.

“Four.” You couldn’t even recognise your own voice.

“You like that?”

You could feel the warmth of his tongue against your most sensitive zone and you just hummed in response — your breath was too heavy for you to say a meaningful word. His blonde hair gave you the goosebumps when touching your inner tight and you smiled at the memory of thinking how it’d have been to sink your fingers on it.

“You okay?”, He asked once he’d come back to your lips. His whispers and your heavy breath were the only sounds in the room.

You slowly nodded, almost begging “Please” before taking his face in your hands and placing your lips on his. He immediately kissed you back, deepening the moment and pushing his body against yours. He wanted you, and that’s exactly what his wood pressed against your lower belly was telling you.

And when he slowly sank into you his gaze never lost yours; your hands slipped through his bare back up to his neck, your fingers sinking between his blonde hair.

You surrounded his waist with your legs and crossed your ankles, trying to feel him as much as you could in each and everyone of his pushes. “Fuck, Y/N”, He murmured as he hid his face on your neck, his heavy breath caressing your skin as he kept sinking into you. He’d called you by your name, your real name, and if it wasn’t for the situation your eyes’d have become teary.

You both reached the culmination a few moments later, his green eyes never leaving yours as he grunted. When he laid down right next to you with a sigh, at first you were too worn off to say something. As the seconds went by you turned your head towards him, meeting his gaze already fixed on you. The sight of his tight smile made you chuckle, and he asked by widening his smile “What?”

“Nothing”, You said between the giggles.

“Was it bad?”

“Oh my god.” You hid your face on his neck and he surrounded your waist with his arm.

“Eight.”

“No, absolutely. It’s been great.” You placed your chin on his shoulder to face him.

“Good.” He pursed his lips but you could tell your words pumped up his ego.

“So, Billy”, you teased him with a grin.

“Yeah...”

“It’s lovely.” And you were being honest.

Four limited himself to just look at you, making you slightly blush. Your attention was caught by the scar that crossed his brow, so you slowly grazed it with the tip of your finger. “How did you get it?”

“Parkour isn’t exactly the safest thing on earth.”

“So you smashed your face.”

Four laughed again. “Yeah, sort of.”

“Can I ask you something?” A question had just popped in your mind.

Four limited himself to nod a ‘yes’ and you bit your lower lip, taking your time before saying “Why’d you reject me?”

His blonde brows were now narrowed in a questioning look. One of his hand was resting under his head and the light coming from the window made him look like Adonis. “Huh?”

“That day at the gym. You said that it was because of the stress I was under.”

“It wasn’t?”, He asked almost in a playful tone and you slapped him in his chest.

“’f course it wasn’t.”

Four pursed his lips and sighed deeply. “I felt guilty.”

“For what?”

“I used to work for the man that ruined your family, Eight. The look in your eyes every time his name was pronounced — I couldn’t forgive myself. I still can’t.”

His eyes were so clear and so honest that pushed you to place a hand on his cheek, making him look right at you. “I do, Billy. I forgive you.”

And the smile he gave you made your heart do a backflip. He didn’t reply, though. He kissed you, pressing your body against his.

One week ago you’d never thought to find yourself in this situation, but there you were. Right into Four’s arms.

His hand started to go up and down on your bare lower back, relaxing your muscles and making your feel even more comfortable. “Are you scared?”

He seemed to reflect on your question. “Just a bit worried.”

“You’ll be careful, won’t you?”

“And you won’t do anything stupid.” You were surprised to notice he’d realised how the strike made you feel. That it was something personal to you. You were going to face Kuklinski in a few hours and you were terrified. You were worried about your anger issues and you just hoped you weren’t going to screw things up.

But you were determined to take that motherfucker down so you confirmed his words. “No, I won’t.”

Fourteen days after the explosion – the day of the hit on Kuklinski

“Red really is your colour.” Five gave you a quick look from above her shoulder. Maybe she was right. The red dress you were wearing looked really good on you, but nothing compared to her and her green tube dress. She looked like a goddess.

Her hair was up in a fancy hairstyle but Two’d decided to make yours just slightly wavy.

“Isn’t it too much?”

She turned towards you and gave you the most confident smile you’d ever seen. “It’s never too much.”

You were about to leave for the strike and anxiety was eating you alive. You were determined to do it, but things could’ve gone terribly wrong. Your thoughts immediately led to few hours before, while laying in Four’s arms. In a different situation the thought of what you’d done would’ve made you blush, but not that night. You were worried sick.

Four had a major role in the strike and you just hoped he’d get away with it uninsured. The eight of you trained hard for this very special occasion, so you tried to stay positive. The plan was perfect in every singular detail.

“You look... différente”, Two said by looking at you with her eyes narrowed.

Her words caught Five’s attention, who simply replied “I’ll tell you what it is. She got laid.”

“She what?”, Two replied at the same time you almost screamed “Five!”

Your cheeks were bright red but thankfully you didn’t get the chance to continue the chat, thanks to a knock on the door.

“You girls ready?” One voice came muffled from behind the door. You exchanged a quick look with Two and Five before following them to the hallway. The heels you were wearing weren’t the comfiest thing ever, but you knew how to move. They weren’t that big deal.

When you got to the dining room, everyone was there. One was wearing a bulletproof vest and he was making sure that his guns were loaded. Two was standing right next to you and she was following closely Three’s movements — you were pretty sure they had something going on, too. The latter was tying his jacket with an amused grin on his face.

Then there was Four, in his typical jumpsuit and a black beanie covering his blonde hair. But it wasn’t his clothing that got your attention — his green eyes were all over your body. His intense staring brought back the memories of the previous day and you were sure you’d blushed hardwhen his eyes met yours. He winked at you and you shook your head in amusement, making your gaze run to the rest of the group.

Five was now chatting with Six and they were gesturing towards the gas can she was holding. Seven was on his own, closely cleaning his rifle in silence.

“Okay guys, it’s time.” One looked at each and everyone of you. The determination in his eyes made you actually believe that you could make it. That you could finally take Kuklinski down.

“Let’s do this”, Six said with a big smile, followed by Three who said “Ay papi, we’re gonna take that motherfucker down.”

“Merde à tous.” You didn’t speak french, but you smiled at Two’s words anyways.

“Y’all know what to do, so let’s go.” Seven was the first to get out of the door, followed by Five.

Nervousness was eating you alive and the thought of facing Harry — Four’s brother — and then Kuklinski did nothing but make you sweat even more. As the rest of the group left to the cars, you were about to follow them when Four grabbed your hand.

You gave him a look from above your shoulder, followed by a smile. “Be careful, ‘kay?”

Four tightened the grip on your hand at his words and you just pursed your lips, fully turning towards him.

You let go of his hand only to place it on his cheek, looking directly at his green eyes. “Please, please stay alive.”

Four exhaled deeply before placing his lips on yours. It wasn’t a soft, delicate kiss like the ones of the day before. He kissed you with passion and desire, with desperation, almost as if he never wanted to let you go. You truly wished you never had to leave, you didn’t want to get in that car and leave him behind to do his job,

But you had to.

So you backed away from him, caressing his cheek for the last time before clearing your voice and whispering “Let’s go.”

The ride to Kuklinski’s building was silent. Extremely silent, except for Six’s little taps on the steering wheel. It was just the two of you plus Five. Two and Three were coming on another car, One was directing it all from a roof as Four and Seven were taking their positions.

When you finally got there, you gave a last look at Six. He pursed his lips, holding the wheel a little tighter while saying “Good luck, girls. I’ll be waiting you.”

You smiled at him before getting off the car, standing right next to Five. You didn’t start walking and neither did she, so you turned towards her. You didn’t say anything, but from the look in her eyes you knew she wanted to say something, too.

There was no time for pleasantries.

The earpiece was well hidden under your curled hair as you walked through the metal detector undisturbed. One was a bloody genius. You grabbed your briefcase and gave Five a quick look as she took a seat in the waiting area as you walked toward the reception.

“Good morning. How can I help you?” A blonde, middle-aged lady politely smiled at you.

“I have an appointment with Mr. Longbourn.”

As the lady checked your words on her laptop, your hands were starting to sweat for the nervousness. You forced yourself not to give a look around you, trying not to look suspicious, and the lady looked right at you only a few seconds after. “Mr. Longbourn is ready for you, Miss. His office is in the fourth floor.”

You thanked her in a whisper and a polite smile before walking towards the elevator. You knew there were cameras watching you as the elevator lifted, so when One asked you through the earpiece “Eight, you okay?”, you limited yourself to hum “Huh-huh.”

“Zip line secure”, you heard Four saying through the earpiece.

“It’s a good ride, One”, Seven said. Their chats were helping you not to overthink, distracting you. “A little scary up here, but...”

“Nah, this is fun. Don’t be a pussy, Seven”, Four immediately replied and it made you smile.

When you got to the fourth floor you switched off your earpiece, so that you could only communicate with One. As much as you wanted to hear Four and make sure he was fine, he was a distraction. A big one.

Harry’s office was easy to find — his name was written all over the wall glass. Funny how he was the exact opposite of his brother. At least Four wasn’t a bloody criminal. Not anymore, at least.

You knocked at the door before entering the room, getting ready to out in place the greatest play in the world. “Mr Longbourn”, you said with a smile, catching his attention.

His eyes moved from the laptop to you, but when his green eyes started to run all over your body, it was nothing compared to Four. Harry’s staring repulsed you. “It’s Harry for you, my dear.”

He shook your hand and you took a seat in one of the chairs right in front of his desk. Now that you knew his story, you could tell that he was trying to hide his English accent by faking an American one. Little did he know.

“I recall that you’re leaving for an international meeting tomorrow, am I right?” You really wished he wasn’t Four’ brother so that the group could take care for him because of his actions.

You faked a smile. “I am, indeed. You recall correctly.”

“You’re even prettier than the last time I saw you.”

Filthy bastard. You truly hoped Four wasn’t paying attention to your little chitchat with his brother. “Thank you, Harry.”

“So”, he said by rubbing his hands “what have you got for me?”

You never had the chance to reply because of the gunshots. A lot of them, probably coming from the lower floor. Harry’s attention had been caught by them and he didn’t notice you extract a gun from your briefcase. “Hands up”, you said with a grin by pointing the gun at him.

His brows were narrowed in surprise, his lips parted because of the shock. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“I said hands up”, you repeated in a higher tone, given that he hadn’t done as ordered.

Harry placed both his hands on his head and you carefully walked towards him, still pointing the gun at him as you searched him looking for a weapon. You clicked on the earpiece and told One “Harry’s clear.”

“Good”, he immediately replied and you noticed he was out of breath. “Bring him to the meeting point.”

You heard other gunshots as you tried to avoid Harry’s shocked gaze. “Who are you?”

The tip of your gun was pressed against his back and when he gave you a look from above his shoulder you simply said “I’m Eight. Now shut up and walk or I’ll make you.”

“I did nothing wrong”, he tried to justify himself.

“Yeah”, you puffed. “Nothing at all. Try telling that to the families of all the people who’ve died because of you and your fuckin’ boss.”

On your way to the upper floor you met one of Kuklinski’s guard. Right before he could shoot at you, you killed him. It was wrong, so bloody wrong, but it had to be done. He fell to the ground like a puppet. Harry gasped and you tried not to think about what you’d just done. “Eight, the floor is clear. You’re free to move”, Seven told you through the earpiece.

Holding Harry’s shirt with one hand and the gun with the other, you walked upstairs. Your senses were on alert, ready to spot the slightest movement of your enemies. Harry didn’t say anything, but on the last step of the stairs he turned towards you. He tried to disarm you by bending your arm — he might’ve had the brute force needed, but he wasn’t trained like you and sure as hell he wasn’t thinking clearly.

Your grip on the gun was firm when you pushed away Harry’s arm and kicked him right in the undercarriage, making him grunt of pain. All you had to do was push him a little to make him sit down on the stairs and you pointed your gun right at his head. “Tell me, Harry. Have you ever watched Chicago?”

“What?” He was seriously confused.

“Chicago”, you replied. “The musical with Catherine Zeta-Jones and Renée Zellweger.”

“Yeah, I guess so?”

You leaned towards him so that your face was just a few inches away from his, but you made sure your gun was still pointed at his forehead. “You try to do that one more time, and you’ll end up like one of those boys. I may be a girl, but sure as hell I’m stronger than you. I can still blow your head off.”

Where did those words come from? This wasn’t you.

The sound of broken glasses made you smile, giving you the sign that the plan was proceeding as planned. “Eight, you okay?”

You sighed in relief by hearing Four’s voice. You forced Harry to stand up and you pushed him into the room where Two and Three were waiting. You spotted them in the distance but you couldn’t see them clearly. “I’m fine, yeah. Where the hell are you?”

“Got stuck at the roof. I’m on my way.” And by doing so he switched off the earpiece.

Thank God Four was fine.

“The floor’s clear, Eight.” Seven was monitoring the situation in the distance and you just nodded at his words.

Only when you walked towards Two and Three you noticed they were pointing their guns right at Kevin Kuklinski. You froze right behind Harry, your hands starting to shake at the sight of the men that had killed your parents.

“Eight.” Two caught your attention and you slowly moved your gaze to her. She nodded at you, silently saying to move closer to them.

So you did — you pushed Harry who complained quietly and you made him sit down to a chair right next to Kuklinski.

It was the latter who broke the silence by saying “I know you.”

Now that Harry was being monitored by Three, you could finally look at Kuklinski. “Do you remember me?”

Those bastard’s eyes — so dark that they seemed black — were fixed on yours. You had your father’s eyes and he’d probably recognised them. “Y/L/N”, Kuklinski said with a smirk. A strand of grey and black hair had fallen into his forehead and if he didn’t have his hands tied, he’d have probably moved it.

“In the flesh.” You tightened the grip on your gun, holding it with both hands.

“I remember your parents. How silly they’ve been in trusting me.”

Your knuckles had turned white and you were trying to contain yourself. Without looking away from him and his cold eyes, you asked Two “Where’s One?”

“On his way.”

“Fuck.”

“They got what they deserved”, Kuklinski kept going. What was he trying to do?

“Shut the fuck up.” You switched on the earpiece. “One, where the hell are you?”

All you heard from the other side were gunshots.

“Do I know you?” Harry had a very bad timing.

Footsteps were approaching you and they caught Three’s attention. Kuklinski’s guards were more numerous than you expected and they just kept coming. “Shut up, Harry.”

“We killed her parents”, Kuklinski said with a grin. “You should’ve heard them begging for mercy.”

That was enough. Without thinking twice about it, you pointed your gun at Kuklinski and fired. Again and again. The thud of the gunshots was echoing in your ears and you felt numb. You just couldn’t feel anything.

“Hey”, Two said by placing a hand on your shoulder. “He’s dead.”

Without even realising it your eyes’d become teary, you bit your lower lip to make it stop shaking and you lowered the gun.

Kevin Kuklinki was finally dead. He’d gotten what he deserved and it felt so good. So right.

It wasn’t the right time for celebrations, though. Half of the group was still in trouble, and there was still Harry to be taken care of.

“Four?” No answer. You exchanged a quick look with Two and Three but they just shook their heads. “Four?!”

When Four finally replied, your heart sank. “He’s gonna kill me.”

Taglist: @maccasbeard @radiob-l-a-hblah @queen-turtle-boiii @desperatelytryingtosavemyself @sara-1705 @queen--sherlock @allthethingsicant @hells-personal-bitch @owensgrxdy @amy-brooklyn99 @dep-thx @ken-yee-not @mazzelloqueen @caborhapch @jonesyaddiction @mightbeidfkalien @pink-lemo @dreamingaboutyousworld @multi-fandom-iimagines @just-bookish @simonedk @roseslovedreams @dreamingaboutyousworld @cheeseedreams47 @hyungbean @livesnearthecity @blushingwueen @ariesxslytherin @grave-details

let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist :)

#ben hardy #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy fic #6 underground #6 underground fic #six underground #roger taylor #roger taylor fic #roger taylor x reader

184 notes · View notes