#not sober yet just not actively killing myself anymore

[nodope]

been feeling super insecure lately cause I've gained a lot of weight this year not doing all the dugs or whatever...

. hoping some attention from strangers on the internet will help me feel less disgusting I guess lol

[quickspinner]

Oops - Part 1

Part 1 | Part 2 | AO3

Summary: A little too much alcohol, a drunken hookup, it happens all the time, right? Marinette didn't mean to drink so much, and she didn't mean to wake up in a stranger's bed, but she did, and now this morning isn't going at all the way she expected. When Luka asks to see her again, she can't think of a good reason to say no...and the one night she never meant to have turns out to be the beginning of something she never could have anticipated.

Alya thinks its hysterical--only Marinette could take home a one night stand and end up with a date. But when the one night stand turns into a series of hookups, Alya's starting to get concerned. Clearly it's up to her to rein Marinette in before the girl gets seriously hurt.

Rating: M - this is a little spicier than my usual fare but not really explicit? There’s a lot of off screen sex and reference to sexy things and adult activities, some drinking (obviously), cursing/foul language. 

Credit to my tumblr followers for this one, because one day I went "hey, you guys want to see some bits from the folder of fics I'm never going to finish?" and one of the bits I posted was the beginning of this story, and people liked it more than I was expecting, and then it was "well, you know, I did think about doing blahblah" and "I'd sure love to see that!" and the next thing you know I've added five thousand words with no sign of stopping. In Marinette’s words: Oops. So, with much love to my followers and readers across platforms, here's the fic I never intended to finish, and I hope you enjoy it!

I'm splitting it into two chapters but they'll both be uploaded within a few minutes, so if you finish the first part and the second one isn't posted yet, just wait a little and try back. Also, much love to @livrever for talking me down off the ledge and beta reading this one. 

Marinette woke up with a mouth that felt like cotton and a pounding headache. She groaned, and pressed her face into the pillow. It...smelled funny. Not bad, just...not like home. 

Oh. Because she hadn’t gone home last night. At least, not to her home. 

“Are you shitting me right now?” 

Marinette jumped, and sat up, clutching the sheets to her still-naked body. Her head reeled and she whimpered as she pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead. The door to the bedroom was cracked and she could see a sliver of light beyond it that blinked in and out. It seemed her...friend, was pacing in the other room, and from the sound of it, he wasn’t very happy. 

“—crosses a line, Jean. What? No, that’s not the point, Jean, you got me hammered without my consent! How can you not see the problem here? No, you know what, my head is killing me and I’m sick of yelling at you, obviously this can’t be fixed. As of right now, we are no longer friends. Don’t call me, don’t talk to me, if you see me coming just walk the other way. I’m done with you.”

There was a thump and a sigh and an emphatic “Fuck.”  

Marinette just sat there, holding the sheet over her chest, and blinked, trying to figure out what she should do and think through the fog in her brain. She didn’t exactly have a whole lot of experience in these situations. Was she supposed to just…

Before she could form any ideas, he came in with a glass of water and a bottle of painkillers. He had a pair of tattered but well-fitting jeans on with patterned boxers peeking out from the waistband, but no shirt, and there was a lot of muscle and bare skin on display and oh God he had sex hair, and it was her hands that had done it. Marinette swallowed and twisted her fingers tighter in the sheets, suddenly feeling a bit lightheaded.

“Hi,” he said gently. “I’m Luka, in case you don’t remember. Sorry if I woke you. How are you feeling? I mean, hung over, obviously, but on a scale of just let me die to I might conceivably want to live to tomorrow …” He gave her a smile that perhaps wasn’t entirely confident, and Marinette couldn’t help a small smile back. 

“I think I’m not quite up to dancing to the metal band playing in my head, but pretty far from oh God where’s the bathroom, so I’ll take it, all things considered.” She took the glass of water he offered and he opened the aspirin bottle and shook a couple out into her palm. That was sweet, she thought. At least he wasn’t just tossing her clothes at her and kicking her out. How could she have let herself end up in a position like this?

Luka sat on the edge of the bed and watched her take the pills. “Man, you’re really gorgeous. I thought at least some of it would be the booze, but—“ He looked away, clearing his throat. “Lucky me.”

Marinette’s face burned. “Thanks,” she said softly, not sure what else to say. At least he was nice, she thought. At least she hadn’t slept with a jerk. And he’d certainly been...considerate. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t enjoyed herself, just...

“How much do you remember about last night?” he asked. His voice was rough, but he kept it soft. “I’m sorry for asking but I was way more drunk last night than I ever let myself get and I don’t think I blacked out but some things are...spotty.”

“Most of it, I think,” Marinette flashed him an embarrassed smile. “The good parts for sure. The details and...transitions, I guess, are a little hazy. I don’t remember how we got here from the club, for example.”

“But you remember being here, with me.” His eyes fell to her neck and shoulders and he winced. “Man I really marked you up, I’m sorry. I hope that’s not going to get you in trouble.” His eyes widened slightly. “Please tell me you aren’t married.”

“No,” she yelped. “No, I’m not married. Totally single.” She put her face in her hand. “Absolutely, devastatingly, recently single.” 

Luka let out a sigh of relief and gave her a sympathetic smile. “Bad breakup?”

She sighed. “Very. Bad breakup, bad best friend applying bad breakup logic that lands me my very first one night stand. Yay me.”

“Um, I’m honored?” Luka grinned sheepishly. “Although, I mean...it doesn’t have to be. Just the one night, I mean. Not that—” He cleared his throat and looked away. “Even as drunk as I was, I know I had a lot of fun last night.” He rubbed his hand through his hair. “And even before I got too drunk to function I wanted to get your number.” He rolled his eyes. “Apparently one of my so-called friends decided I needed a little extra liquid courage.” 

“I wish I had an excuse,” Marinette muttered, shoulders curling inward. “I just...didn’t want to be sad anymore.” She frowned as what he’d said and the conversation she’d overheard connected in her brain. “Are you...okay?”

“I’m pissed off,” Luka huffed, and then smiled again. “But I’m fine. I didn’t do— much I wouldn’t have done anyway. Just, not necessarily in that order, or that soon. As long as you’re okay, I’m okay.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“I’m...not sure,” Marinette sighed, adjusting her grip on the sheet she held to her chest. “I don’t know how I feel. I definitely did some things I wouldn’t have done sober. You, specifically,” she joked weakly. “Not that you aren’t—not that I didn’t—“

“I get it,” he chuckled. 

“But...I’m on birth control, and…” she turned and craned her neck to look at the spilled box and empty wrappers on the nightstand. “We used protection, and…” she looked at Luka, worrying her lip. 

“I’m clean,” he supplied.

“Me too,” she whispered, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “And you’re hot and you seem nice and it’s not like it didn’t feel good, and I definitely wasn’t sad for a while, so…” She shrugged. “I’m a little embarrassed but...I think I’m okay too.”

“Well, no need to be embarrassed with me,” Luka grinned. “I’m definitely not judging.” 

They sat smiling at each other for a moment, and then Luka seemed to remember something, because he winced. “Umm...about your dress,” he coughed. “I am so, so sorry but it seems drunk me was kinda impatient and your dress is in pieces on my living room floor.” 

Marinette just blinked at him for a moment...and then she started to laugh. Luka grinned, and then started to chuckle along with her. She laughed harder and grabbed her head. “Ow, ow, oh my God.” Without thinking she leaned forward to drop her head on Luka’s shoulder. 

He stiffened up for a second, but then relaxed, and one of his hands slipped into her hair. His fingers began to rub in small circles. 

“Mmm, that’s good,” she sighed, and felt Luka’s chuckle.

“Well that sounds familiar,” he said, his voice going a little deeper. Marinette shivered. She felt him swallow, and his face dipped slightly towards her. “I like your perfume,” he said, and had to clear his throat again. Marinette’s face warmed.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. His fingers continued to rub her aching head, and the pain actually seemed to be receding a bit, though whether from the massage or the painkillers he’d given her, she wasn’t sure.

She should sit up. He was a stranger, after all, and just because they’d—she wasn’t exactly experienced at this kind of thing but this wasn’t really fitting in with what she imagined a morning after to be like. She probably looked weird, leaning on him like...like they were a couple or something, and—

Luka’s hands shifted and began to comb gently, slowly through her hair, and Marinette let out a small moan. She felt his breath hitch and bit her lip, embarrassed. “Sorry,” she whispered.

“What for?” he asked, but there was a rough edge to his voice that—she was being silly though, he’d performed last night, and then they’d done all that drinking, and...and those other things, and it was no wonder if his voice was—

That voice was doing things to her, though, and reminding her of—things, and this time it was her breath that caught as the fingers that had been moving through her hair kept going down this time, sliding along her spine, raising goosebumps and reminding her that she was still very much naked. 

“Do you, um,” Luka began, in the exact same deep tones that had made her leave the club with him last night. “Do you have anywhere you need to be right now?” 

His fingers stilled, resting at the small of her back, and Marinette couldn’t see his face since hers was still buried in his shoulder. It was hard to think when he was so warm, and her nose was brushing his collarbone, and she’d hardly have to move to press her lips against his smooth skin. 

She barely knew him. But...well...that hadn’t stopped her last night, so...

Marinette took a deep breath, and lifted her head, sitting back slightly to look at him. His breathing was steady as he looked back at her, almost too steady, but his eyes were dark. 

“No,” she managed, barely above a whisper. 

Luka’s hands moved up her back to trail up and down her arms. “Then, do you want to stay for a while longer?” They were swaying towards each other. “Maybe…” They were kissing before he could finish the thought. Marinette put her arms around his neck automatically, but as his arms went around her, pulling her closer, she dropped her hands back down again to rub over his broad, firm shoulders. 

“Again?” he managed to get out between the fevered kisses, and Marinette made an affirmative noise, but he didn’t move until she broke away long enough to gasp, “Yes.” 

He was pulling away the sheet between them even as he wrapped one arm around her and dragged her more fully onto the bed, settling her below him with surprising gentleness. Okay, that was hot, Marinette decided, burying her fingers in his already-messy hair as he began retracing the path he’d marked along her neck last night. Last night had been a really, really stupid decision, but this? As he pulled back to look at her, eyes clear and sharp instead of the hazy, unfocused gaze he’d had the night before, and brushed her hair tenderly back from her face before kissing her again, softly, and then deeply, Marinette began to feel that this morning was by far the best decision she’d made in a long time. 

***

He should get up, Luka thought hazily, listening to his shower running. He should at least put his boxers back on or something. Change the sheets. Make some coffee. Something.

Instead he lay there, limp and relaxed, listening to the shower, and trying to hold on to this feeling of languid contentment.

God, he felt so good. Marinette was an amazing partner, sweet and so responsive, practically melting under his touch, firm and toned but soft in all the right places, and her little gasps and hums drove him crazy. She was bolder than he expected, an amazing kisser even drunk off her ass last night, and her mouth was so pretty and soft, and this morning...his body hummed with echoes of pleasure as he thought about it. 

He rolled over, hugging his pillow, and grinned. He could still smell her perfume. That scent was engraved in his mind; it was one of the things that was clearest to him from the jumbled mix of memories of the night before. Luka remembered dancing with Marinette, dropping his head to hear something she was saying, and inhaling that scent, vivid despite the riot of smells that permeated the dance floor. He remembered being surrounded by it in the blur that was the cab ride home. He remembered gasping it in on the living room floor...did they fall? He thought he remembered one of them tripping over the doorstep. Even just now, with all his senses full of her, he had found traces of it on her skin, at her jaw and right behind her ear. 

Luka shivered, buried his face in the pillow, and breathed deep. 

He’d played a killer set last night, he’d gone home with a beautiful woman who was great in bed, had somehow managed not to humiliate himself despite his spiked drinks, and he had nowhere to be today. This morning would be perfect if he wasn’t dead certain that Marinette was going to leave and he would never see her again. 

He really wanted to see her again. 

Which was why he hadn’t wanted things to happen this way, damn it. He sighed, this time burying his face in the pillow to muffle his groan. He was supposed to flirt with her, get her number, ask her out, think with his brain and not his—hormones. 

He was still going to kill his so-called friend. There was no justifying what Jean had done. If Victor had been working it never would have happened, but he’d called out for the night and apparently whoever had replaced him had been more than happy to make sure Luka’s drinks were stronger than advertised.

Bastards, both of them. 

Even if it hadn’t turned out too badly. 

Rock Giant blared out from his nightstand, and Luka flopped on his back and grabbed for his phone, forcing his eyes open as he answered it. “Hello?” he grumbled. 

Silence. Luka frowned, and opened his mouth, but the person on the other end finally said, “I’m looking for Marinette.” 

What? Luka frowned, and then pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at it. It was pink. 

Right. Because he’d found Marinette’s dead phone on the floor this morning when he got up, and he’d picked it up and set it in his charger, while he took his own to the living room to call and yell at Jean. Then he’d hurled his phone into the couch and left it there.

Shit. 

“Ah,” he said, reaching up with his other hand to run his fingers through his hair. “She’s, um, in the shower. I can tell her to call you when she gets out.” 

“Tell her to call Alya. If I don’t hear from her in fifteen minutes, I’m calling the police,” the girl on the other end of the line said coldly, and then hung up.

“Oops,” Luka muttered, setting Marinette’s phone back on the nightstand with a sigh. He hoped she wouldn’t be too mad at him. He probably should have come up with a more ambiguous excuse, something she could use for a cover if she didn’t want to admit to this Alya person that she’d gone home with a guy, but he wasn’t exactly thinking on his feet this morning. 

He should get up. He sat up with a groan and swung his legs over to sit on the edge of the bed, scrubbing his hands over his face. 

He registered that the shower was no longer running at about the same time that the door opened. Luka looked up and his jaw dropped as Marinette shuffled shyly into the room.

Shit, he’d seen her naked less than an hour ago, why was he still blushing?  She was wearing two of his shirts, a t-shirt with one of his button-ups over it, open at the front and with the sleeves rolled up, cinched at her waist with her scarf from the night before. He couldn’t look away from that scarf for a moment, a pink, gauzy thing the sight of which brought Luka another vivid memory of pressing his face against her neck to inhale her perfume as he untied it. His eyes flicked up to the lovely pattern of bruises along her neck. 

“Thanks for letting me raid your closet,” Marinette said, tugging slightly at the hem of his shirt. She had what looked like a pair of his black bike shorts on underneath. They were too big for her but damn did her legs look good anyway.

“No problem,” he coughed, and cleared his throat, reaching for the glass of water that was still sitting on his nightstand. Ugh, when did he become such a horn dog, drooling like this over a woman who had already more than satisfied him. Why did Jean have to decide to be a jerk last night, of all nights. Luka didn’t want things to end like this. 

“Well, I should...If you maybe have a bag I can put my dress in? Then I can just go and get out of your hair.” Marinette couldn’t seem to be still, feet shuffling, hands fluttering, not looking at him.

I have to fix this, was the only thing he could think as he stared at her. I’ll regret it forever if she just walks out.

“Actually,” Luka said quickly, trying desperately not to sound too desperate, “I was going to ask if I could buy you breakfast.” 

That stilled her. She froze, staring at him, and he forced himself to go on. “No pressure,” he shrugged, “But the café on the corner has a great all-day brunch menu. And I’d like to make it up to you, about the dress.” He grinned sheepishly, running a hand through his hair. Marinette’s eyes followed the motion and he thought he saw pink tint her cheeks. Well, at least it wasn’t just him. “Breakfast probably doesn’t begin to cover it, but it’s a start. If you don’t mind waiting for me to shower.” 

Marinette was shuffling again. “O-okay,” she said. “I’ll, um...I’ll wait for you in the other room?”

Luka chuckled. “Sure.” He waited a moment, but when she just stood there, he tossed aside the sheet covering his lap and stood. “I’ll be quick,” he told her with a grin that he was extremely sure she didn’t see. She squeaked as he passed her and he had to smother his laughter, even as he closed the bathroom door behind him. She was too cute, and her ogling made him feel less like a creep for his own.

Then he cursed and opened the door again, leaning just his upper half out. “Oh, I need to tell you, you need to call, um, Alya? I’m really sorry, but we have the same ringtone and I answered without thinking. Can you call her back before she sends the cops after me? I can’t deal with Officer Roger this early in the morning.”

Marinette paused, and then let out a strangled laugh, dropping her head into her hand. “Yeah,” she sighed, but she was smiling when she looked up at him. “Sure, I can do that.” 

Luka smiled back. “I'll only be a few minutes.” 

He did want to be quick, but he also wanted to be clean and attractive, so he throttled back his impatience as best he could to make sure that he both smelled and looked good. The bedroom was still empty when he came in, but the door wasn’t shut all the way and he could hear Marinette on the phone. He felt a little guilty for eavesdropping, but it wasn’t as if he could help it. 

“—about that but it’s not like I ditched you on purpose. Well obviously I was wasted, Alya, so I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly.  No, I’m really fine. I’m kind of embarrassed and I feel really stupid, but...it turned out okay. Hmm? No, he’s really sweet and considerate. He’s, um, buying me breakfast, so…what? No, Alya, I’m not stupid, I know that. He’s just being nice and—okay that is none of your business! ” There was a giggle that followed that, and then her voice dropped too quiet for him to hear, and another giggle, one that made him smile from the sheer joy evident in it. “I guess I got lucky in more ways than one.” She sighed. “Anyway, you don’t have to worry about me. I really am fine. Not even sick, much. I mean I had a headache for a while, but...” She giggled again. “Luka took care of it. Mm-hmm, so good, Alya, oh my God.” Luka grinned to himself as he dug in his closet to find the stack of leftover merch he had crammed into the back corner. “Nuh uh, also none of your business. Anyway, I’m not dead in a ditch somewhere, and I’ll text you when I’m on my way back, okay?”

Stop being a smug bastard , Luka told himself, but it wasn’t working very well. Given the state she had reduced him to, it was gratifying to know she’d enjoyed herself too. Well, he had known that, he’d made sure of it, but it still felt good to hear it from her. Maybe his odds were better than he thought. He found what he was looking for and tried to turn his smirk into something less incriminating before he opened his door and emerged into the living room. From the way Marinette’s face turned red, he failed. “I really gotta go,” she mumbled into the phone, eyes on him. “Bye, Alya.” 

“I hope this will do,” Luka said, offering her the cheap mesh tote with his band logo on it. “You can keep it, we use them to bag up merch when people by t-shirts and stuff for the band...I hope it’s…”

“It’s fine,” Marinette smiled, taking the bag. The pieces of her dress were already neatly folded on the couch, and she turned away from him to put them in the bag. 

“I’m really sorry about that,” Luka told her, frowning a little. “I’m...not usually like that.”

“It’s okay,” Marinette sighed. “It was kind of flimsy, with just those straps to hold the pieces together. I’m not usually like this…” she gestured with one of the folded pieces, “either. I’m not, you know, sexy like that. I made it because I thought...well, I thought he would like it, and maybe I could wear it for a special occasion at home, but I never meant to wear it out , and then when everything happened, I thought I’d never wear it at all, but then Alya insisted that I had to wear it at least once and…” She shrugged, and slipped the handles of the tote over her arm, smiling up at him. “I’m just as happy to have an excuse not to wear it again.” 

“Well, you looked amazing in it,” Luka told her, the corner of his mouth twitching. “But I have to disagree with you about not usually being sexy. My clothes have never looked so hot.”

She tried to hide how much she enjoyed the compliment, but couldn’t quite manage it, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She’d had a breakup, he remembered, and probably wasn’t feeling too good about herself when she walked into that bar last night, dressed to the nines, and started knocking back drinks. 

Then her blue eyes flicked up to give him a look through her lashes. “I find that hard to believe,” she murmured, and then blushed. 

Oh he was gone. Luka found himself reaching for her, but stopped his hand before it touched her cheek. “Can I kiss you, Marinette?” 

Her eyebrows shot up. “Now, you’re asking?” 

“Yes, I’m asking,” Luka replied, amused. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Marinette’s eyes darted to his mouth, and then back towards the bedroom. “I don’t, um...think I can…” 

Luka chuckled. “Thanks for your opinion of my stamina, but frankly, me either. I’d be more than willing if I could, but, right here right now? I just really want to kiss you.” 

“Why?” Marinette blurted, and then covered her mouth. Luka blinked, but before he could come up with any kind of answer, Marinette straightened and squared her shoulders. “Look,” she said briskly. “I’m sorry, I just...I’ve never done this before, and I don’t know what...I don’t know what the rules are? The...etiquette, or whatever...I mean I kind of thought once we were done with…” Her eyes shifted towards his bedroom again. “I thought it was just, over? And I would go home? So I’m...I guess I’m confused. About why you’re still...um...breakfast and kissing and all that, it just…why would you still want that, after you—I mean we—aren’t we, you know…” She floundered. 

“Okay, hold on,” Luka raised his hands placatingly. “Relax, Marinette. That was kind of a lot to take in.” Luka chuckled, and looked away for a moment as he gathered his thoughts. “I’m not gonna say I’ve never done this before, but...listen, I don’t have a playbook. This isn’t...a business transaction, or whatever. I just do what feels good. Dancing with you felt good. Kissing you felt good. Everything we did after felt good. This morning felt really good.” Marinette blushed, a smile tugging at her lips. “I just feel good with you. I don’t see any reason to put a time limit on that, just because we’re, um. Worn out.” They both giggled self-consciously, and Luka reached for Marinette’s hand, cradling it in his. “If you want to go, or you need to be somewhere, or if you’re just tired of kissing me—”

“I don’t,” Marinette said quickly, taking a half step forward. “I’m...not.” Luka smiled.

“Then just do what feels g—” 

She flung her arms around his neck and kissed him, dropping the bag on the floor. Luka’s hands found her hips automatically, steadying them both from her hasty move, and the kiss softened as they both relaxed into it. 

“You’re right,” Marinette breathed, sending a shiver up his spine. “It does feel good.” 

Luka kissed her again softly, savoring the soft plumpness of her lower lip between his, and rested his forehead against hers. “I could kiss you all day,” he rumbled, and cleared his throat. “But fainting from hunger probably wouldn’t feel so good, so. We should probably go.” 

“Okay,” Marinette said, and then bit the lip he’d just been enjoying. “But maybe we could...keep doing what feels good? For a while? Until I have to go?” 

“Hell yeah,” Luka grinned, and grinned wider when she rose up and kissed him again. He picked up her bag and offered it to her, and walked her to the front door and opened it for her, his other hand still entwined with hers.

They made it to the landing when Marinette hesitated at the top of the stairs. Looking over her head, Luka saw one of his nosier neighbors staring up at them, judgment in every line of her body. Marinette was frozen under the stare, red slowly creeping up her face. He could sense the sudden panic in her, and put a hand on her hip. 

Luka leaned down by her ear. “You were the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen last night,” he murmured, smiling when Marinette shivered and turned her head slightly to listen to him, jolted out of whatever spiral she’d been in. “You completely blew my mind this morning. You’re a goddess. Own it and walk out of here like one.”

Marinette felt as if Luka’s words sank into her skin, warming her in such a way that she almost forgot what they were talking about. She was busy reliving the way he had arched against her, the praises he had whispered into her skin, the way he had clung to her, moaning as he came apart. She did that to him. 

Luka watched as Marinette bit her lip, fighting the smile that was suddenly trying to break out. He brushed his lips against her temple and she looked up at him, still blushing but with a sparkle in her eye that did things to his heart. She reached back and caught his hand, tangling her fingers with his, and marched down the stairs, offering a cheerful smile to the old lady at the bottom. “Good morning,” she said, and Luka grinned shamelessly as they walked out of the door.

When they made it out of the building Luka suddenly pulled back on her hand, and Marinette gasped as he whirled her up against the wall and leaned down. Marinette rose up on her toes to meet him, cupping his face in her hands and they kissed fiercely. Luka braced his hands on the wall and leaned into her. 

“Perfect,” he breathed, though even he wasn’t sure whether he meant her performance just now, or her in general. 

Marinette’s hands slid from his face to his shoulders as she blushed and looked down, but then she looked back up at him, beaming, and Luka couldn’t help smiling back at her as he cupped her cheek and kissed her lightly one more time. “Breakfast,” he sighed, and pushed off the wall. He held out his hand, and Marinette put hers in it, and they were both grinning as they meandered down the sidewalk. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked, and Marinette sighed blissfully. 

“I feel...really good,” she answered. “Thank you.” She paused, and scrunched her nose. “Is that weird to say?” 

“No,” Luka laughed, and brought their hands to his lips to press a kiss against her fingers. “Thank you too. I had a really good time. I’m glad you did too. I’m glad that...well, with the way things started. It could have all gone really badly, or not at all, and...I’m really glad I could show you a good time.” 

Marinette blushed. “It was good. Really, um. Really good.” She sighed. “I promise I know more words than this.” 

Luka chuckled. “It’s okay. Here, it’s this one.” He opened the café door, but he didn’t let go of Marinette’s hand, following right behind her into the café. They were directed to a booth, and he tugged at her, urging her to sit next to him instead of across. 

Marinette only hesitated a moment. Do what feels good . Luka’s arm felt good against her shoulders as he laid it along the back of the booth, and he leaned down and kissed her without any trace of self-consciousness. Marinette’s fingers curled in his shirt. Kissing him felt really good. She should be embarrassed; she should be pushing him away. Hadn’t she heard over and over how important image is, and here she is making out with her one night stand, wearing his clothes, in a public diner booth. 

Do what feels good . 

It definitely felt good. 

“God that feels good,” Luka sighed as they parted, and Marinette giggled. He kissed the top of her head, and then picked up the menu as a slightly wary waitress approached. Marinette glanced up at him in surprise at the rather domestic gesture, but then quickly away again. Stupid. They’d already had that conversation. It was just an impulse, not something to read into. Marinette looked up at the waitress instead, feeling her cheeks heat. 

The waitress didn’t look phased at all. If anything, she looked bored. “Coffee?” she offered in a disinterested tone.

“Um, no, thank you,” Marinette managed to smile. “I’d like some lemon tea with honey, please.” 

The waitress nodded, and glanced at Luka. “Usual, Lu?” 

“Yeah, thanks,” Luka said, flashing a quick grin before looking at the menu again. 

“Come here often?” Marinette teased, and Luka chuckled, then coughed lightly.

“Yeah,” he admitted. “It’s close and I’m lazy, so…” He shrugged. 

The waitress returned and set down a little pot of hot water, a cup with a tea bag in it, and a container of honey. 

Marinette pulled away from Luka slightly to prepare the tea, but his arm remained behind her on the back of the booth. 

“Here,” Marinette said, sliding the tea over to him when it was ready. “This’ll help your throat.”. 

Luka blinked, and then smiled. “Thank you,” he said, and Marinette found herself blushing under his suddenly soft gaze.

“No, thank you,” she said, and he laughed as she reached over and stole his coffee cup. She sipped it carefully. It wasn’t quite as sweet as she liked it, but it was good enough. She glanced up at Luka over the rim, and he was still giving her that soft look. 

“I should figure out a ride,” Marinette murmured, looking away, and she picked up her phone.

“I can get you a cab if you want,” Luka offered, but Marinette shook her head. 

“My roommate’s boyfriend works nights around here, and he should be getting off soon. I’ll see if he can pick me up first.” She smiled at Luka. “If not, we can revisit the offer. Thank you.” 

He leaned down and kissed her again, and she kept him close for another, and her next text to Nino wasn’t entirely coherent. 

They had to disentangle from each other when their food came, but Marinette remained very aware of Luka’s arm brushing her own, and the soft smiles he gave anytime she glanced at him. She glanced away, tucking back a lock of hair to cover up the fact that she was grinning like a fool. Is this what it’s supposed to feel like? she wondered. Was this just like, afterglow or something? Would it fade away once she left?

Luka touched her shoulder and Marinette jumped. He blinked. “Sorry. I was just asking if you got your ride worked out, but I guess you were a bit zoned out.” 

“Sorry,” Marinette said quickly, and stuffed her phone back in her purse. “Yeah, Nino’s going to pick me up here in a little bit.” Luka nodded. 

He put his arm back around her when they were finished eating, and he ordered another lemon tea instead of the coffee she expected. “You were right,” he smiled. “It did help.” 

Marinette mixed it up for him again when it came, and then settled in and leaned against Luka’s side as he sipped it. He smelled nice, and he was warm, and she loved how easy he made everything feel. 

Luka watched Marinette’s eyelids begin to droop. He nuzzled her hair and kissed her temple, but she just smiled, her eyes still closed. She was adorable, and Luka sighed before jostling her slightly.

“Don’t fall asleep on me,” he warned, and Marinette blinked her eyes back open. “I don’t particularly mind, but we can’t stay in this booth all day.”

“Can’t we?” Marinette sighed. “I’m so comfortable. You’ve been...really great Luka. I’m kind of sorry it has to end.” 

Luka took a breath, and took the plunge. “Well, about that. I was hoping maybe we could see each other again.”

Marinette blinked uncomprehendingly, and then blushed as she sat up and looked at him. “Y-you mean, like a...a b-b—” 

“I mean like a date,” Luka corrected, mouth twitching. She was really too cute. “The kind with talking and dinner and movies or whatever. I’d really like to spend more time with you, Marinette. Talking, and not just...well. I’d be lying if I said I wanted to stop doing everything else, but...I want to get to know you.” 

Marinette’s eyes widened. “R-really?”

Luka tilted his head slightly. “Why are you surprised?” 

“I just don’t—I mean I didn’t think I’d be…” Marinette ducked her head, drawing circles in the ring of condensation forming around the base of her water glass. “You don’t even know me.” 

“True.” Luka raised his eyebrows, and shifted his gaze away so he wasn’t looking quite so fully at her. “That’s why I’m asking you out. I don’t know you, but I want to. If you want to call it quits now and go home and never see me again, I’ll accept that, but...it’s definitely not the way I want this to go.”

“I…” Marinette looked down, twining a finger nervously in her hair. “I don’t know, Luka. You’re really sweet and—I really did have a great time with you. It’s just…I don’t want you to get hurt because I’m on the rebound, I…I don’t know if I’m ready for another, um...relationship, right now. I mean...”

Not what he wanted to hear, but...“Okay. That’s fair,” Luka nodded, the fingers of his free hand beginning to tap the table lightly.. “What if we just keep things casual for now? We can go out sometimes, and have some fun together...do what feels good…” he squeezed her hip, and watched her try to keep back the smile that wanted to break out, “get to know each other, and if you want to see other people or whatever, I’m cool with that for now. I’d just really like the chance to spend more time with you. If it doesn’t go anywhere then…” He shrugged, “at least I tried. You’ve put me on notice now, so it’s my choice to take the risk. I think you’re worth it.” His heart was beating so fast, and the tap of his fingers picked up tempo as he watched Marinette consider. 

“Why?” Marinette whispered at last, with a sigh that hurt his heart. Her last relationship must really have done a number on her. 

Luka cupped her cheek in his hand, coaxing her to look up at him. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I just...have a feeling about you. I’ve learned to trust my instincts about people. I can’t explain it logically, I just...know. You’re someone I want to know. I felt it from the moment I saw you, before I’d even had a single drink.” 

Marinette pursed her lips, looking up at him. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to live up to that,” she said after a long moment.

Luka let his thumb stroke lightly against her lower lip. “You don’t have to live up to anything. Just be you, and let what happens happen.” He bent and kissed her, slipping a hand behind her neck to get a better angle as he plundered her mouth in a way that was definitely not appropriate for a public place. Luka was pretty far beyond caring at the moment though. That this gorgeous, sweet, vibrant woman, could question that someone might be drawn to her, attracted to her for more than a passing moment...it just wasn’t right. 

Marinette relaxed into him with a quiet moan. Her hand slipped under his jacket and pressed into his chest, feeling him up shamelessly, and his own fingers tightened on her hip. 

“So,” he breathed, when he finally let her slip reluctantly away. “What do you say?”

Marinette looked up at him, and bit her reddened lip, and then quietly asked, “Are you free this weekend?”

Luka grinned. “Actually, not so much, I’m usually playing gigs on weekends...how about Thursday? That way I don’t have to hurry away.”

Marinette hummed, and pulled out her phone. He watched the fingertip she pressed against her lips as she considered her schedule, and admired her bright eyes when she smiled up at him. “Okay, Thursday works.” 

“It’s a date,” Luka smiled so softly that Marinette’s heart fluttered. How did he do that, kiss her like that and then do something so—so sweet . 

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, she thought as he got out his own phone to swap numbers with her. What if she fell for him? 

But...he sounded like he wanted her to fall for him. Maybe? But what if he fell for her, and she was just using him for sex? Because he’d made her feel so, so good...important and beautiful and wanted and…

It might not even be like that again, she told herself. Maybe I just imagined it because I was lonely and depressed and feeling unwanted...maybe I would be thinking about anyone who gave me some attention that way. Maybe we’ll just...fizzle out and it won’t even be an issue.. 

Luka curled his fingers under her chin and tilted her face up. “You okay?” he asked softly. 

“I…” her voice was shaking, and she took a breath and forced a smile. “Yeah. Just. I’m tired.” 

He didn’t believe her. “You’re okay,” he told her, kissing her cheek gently, and then the corner of her mouth. “Whatever’s going on, it’s going to be okay.”

Marinette’s phone beeped, and she picked it up with relief. “He’s almost here.”

She slid out of the booth, and Luka followed. He left some bills on the table and took her hand as they walked out. 

“That’s my ride,” Marinette gestured as Nino pulled up at the curb. She turned to face Luka, stepping close. He set his hands on her hips and squeezed as she leaned up to kiss his cheek, but she paused, and then turned and caught his mouth instead. Luka moved easily to meet her in one of those slow, deep kisses that made it seem like he had no other place in the world to be. She stroked his cheeks with her fingertips and kissed him again, and then again as she slid her fingers back up into his hair. “Goodbye, Luka,” she whispered, and he shook his head. 

“See you later,” he corrected softly.   

As he let go of her she felt something slide along her hip and looked down to see the pink scarf that had been tied around her waist slipping away. She looked up at Luka’s grinning face as he winked at her and draped the gauzy scarf around his neck. He raised the fabric to his face and inhaled. “See you Thursday,” he told her, eyes twinkling, and turned to walk away. 

Marinette’s knees felt shaky as she stepped down the curb and opened the car door. 

Nino was hunched down in the front seat, both hands pulling his cap over his face. “Geeze, Nette,” he muttered as she fell into the seat and tucked her feet inside. “I really didn’t need to see that.” 

“Sorry,” she said breathlessly, but as she flipped down the visor to check herself in the vanity mirror, she saw pink cheeks and sparkling eyes and a broad smile, and knew that she wasn’t convincing. She pressed her fingers to her lips and, for Nino’s sake, fought down the urge to squeal. 

Her glow dimmed a bit as she followed Nino up the stairs to the apartment she shared with Alya. She loved her friend, but...she wasn’t looking forward to this conversation. She tugged the collar of Luka’s shirt a little higher on her neck, and tried to remember what Luka had told her. She had nothing to be ashamed of. 

“Well well well,” Alya drawled as Marinette slipped into the apartment after Nino. “Your very first walk of shame.” She smirked. “Marinette, I didn’t know you had it in you.” 

“What I had in me was a lot of vodka,” Marinette huffed, and came over to the table, accepting the glass of ice water Alya pushed across to her.

Alya waited until Marinette had the drink at her lips to add, “And a hot guy, apparently.” 

Marinette choked, just as Alya had intended. “Alya!” 

“Don’t tell me he wasn’t, girl,” Alya snickered. “You, my friend, look very well fucked.” 

Marinette blushed hard. She was, at that, but Alya didn’t have to put it so...crassly.

Nino groaned. “You know what, just...knock and let me know when you’re done. I don’t want to think about it.” He went down the hall into Alya’s bedroom and shut the door. 

“So you said goodbye to Mr. Right For Tonight?” Alya asked, tapping her fingers against her own glass. “You have all your stuff, right?” She frowned. “Are those his clothes? What happened to your dress?”

“I have it with me,” Marinette defended, picking up the bag she’d dropped. “He just...thought I’d be more comfortable in something else.” Not for a million euros would she have told Alya the whole truth about the dress. “And yes, I said goodbye. For now, anyway,” Marinette muttered, and caught Alya’s gaze when she looked up. Something in that look made her squirm. “Actually we have a date later this week,” she admitted. 

“A date?” Alya raised her eyebrows. “Marinette, maybe I need to clue you in on a few things about this whole one night stand business. As in, one single night. After which you…” She made a fluttering motion with her hand. “You’re not supposed to get a date.” 

Marinette shrugged, and reached over to pluck a croissant from Alya’s plate, just to have something to do with her hands. “Oops.” 

Alya’s frown deepened. 

“What? It’s no big deal,” Marinette defended, though she wasn’t even sure why she felt the need. “We just...thought we’d like to see each other again.” 

Alya looked troubled for a moment, and then grinned. “It was that good, huh?”

“Well—” Marinette squirmed in her seat again. “It was fine, okay? He just...seemed nice.” 

“Uh huh.”  

“It was your idea anyway!” Marinette pointed out defensively.

“My idea was for you to go out and get buzzed and enjoy being drooled over,” Alya grinned. “You decided to get hammered and then get laid all on your own. I hope you’re satisfied .” 

Marinette couldn’t cover the silly smile that wanted to come up at that, but when Alya snickered, Marinette shook herself back to reality and sighed. “It was probably my imagination making things better than they were. I was feeling pretty down last night and I did have a lot to drink. And it has, you know. Been a while.”

“Maybe started seeing through beer goggles?” Alya teased. “Not that I blame you, I thought he was pretty cute when you were dancing, but I’d had a few myself by then too. Not your usual type, but it’s good to branch out.”

Marinette blushed. She didn’t want to tell Alya that while her memories of the evening were hazy, she remembered Luka in the morning very clearly, not only the lines of his body but the broadness of his back beneath her arms as she clung to him, the ripple of the muscles tensing and releasing against her as he moved, the dark intensity of his eyes and the way they fluttered closed when she did something he liked. 

She picked up her water glass and took a long gulp. No, she hadn’t needed the liquor to be attracted to him. Not at all. 

Still. She wasn’t exactly thinking clearly, even now. “Watch,” Marinette sighed, setting the glass down. “The date’ll be a bust and that’ll be the end of it. We probably won’t have anything to say to each other and we’ll exchange awkward texts for a few days and then we’ll never speak again.” 

“Hmm,” Alya raised her eyebrows. “We’ll see. It’s fine if you want to have fun, Marinette, you sure as hell could use some. Just be careful, always use protection, and don’t let him take any nudes.”

Marinette blushed deeply, and bit into her croissant. “Thanks so much for your concern,” she muttered around the mouthful. 

***

Marinette knew she was in trouble as soon as she locked eyes with Luka and her stomach started doing somersaults. The slow smile he gave her was so distracting that she barely heard his greeting, or the compliment that followed. She didn’t remember putting her hand in his, it was just there, his fingers rubbing lightly over her knuckles. They hadn’t even made it to the restaurant when Luka tugged her into a shadowed corner and kissed her in that slow, purposeful way he had. His voice surprised her a little, smoother than it had been, without the roughness of hard usage, but, she found, just as seductive. Any resistance Marinette might have had crumbled the second he turned them out of the light and breathed may I ? against her lips. 

When they did finally make it to their table, Luka was just as easygoing as he’d been on their first...night, and he meant it when he said he wanted to get to know her. He asked her questions, and seemed interested in what she said, even when she babbled, watching her with a quietly amused smile. He was interesting, too, telling her about his travels for the past year with his band. They had a surprising number of tastes in common. His eyes were fixed on her whenever she spoke, and he was touching her whenever he got the chance, taking her hand or playing with her fingers, brushing her hair back or letting his hand rest on her shoulder. Despite the kisses they shared whenever one of them couldn’t help themselves, his touch didn’t feel like seduction, just tenderness. Marinette felt like the center of his world, and after so long living on the sidelines of someone else’s life, she reveled in it. 

They were laughing as he walked her home.

“You did not,” Marinette gasped, one hand over her mouth and the other curled around Luka’s arm. 

“We totally did. What can I say, it was a full moon and my best friend is crazy.” Luka shrugged, and grinned while Marinette laughed.

“Wait, so are you a werewolf?” Marinette asked teasingly, as they approached the awning of her building.

“No,” Luka chuckled. “Unless you’re into that. If so, I can see what arrangements I can make for the next full moon.”

“You’d get bitten by a werewolf for me?” Marinette giggled. “How sweet.”

“I’d rather be bitten by you,” Luka teased back, and his hand found her hip, and her arms came up around his neck, and then they were kissing. Heat welled up in her, making her push up against him. Luka made a sound low in his throat and his hands slid to her lower back, pressing her closer. Oh, she wanted him, and by the feel of him he wanted her too, and…

Well. There really wasn’t any point in denying their mutual desire, was there. Marinette pulled away to press her lips along his jaw, and he made that sound again as he tilted his head for her. 

“Do you want to come upstairs?” Marinette asked, toying with his collar. “My roommate’s out of town tonight, so we won’t be, um...bothering anybody.” 

“I’d love to,” Luka told her, voice deepening. “I’d hate for you to be lonely, all by yourself.”

“Oh, I can entertain myself,” Marinette said daringly, looking up at him through her lashes. “I have an excellent imagination. There’s definitely advantages to having the real you here, though.” 

“Play your cards right and I’m sure we can manage the best of both worlds.” Luka bent and kissed the join of her neck and shoulder, sucking hard enough to make her shudder. “You can start with telling me how you imagine we get upstairs. Are we making out in the elevator or am I chasing you up the stairs?” 

“Elevator,” Marinette sighed, head tilting as he retraced his favorite route up her neck. “I don’t want to wear your legs out just yet.” She paused to consider. “Maybe you could chase me that far, though.” 

Luka pressed another long, slow kiss to her mouth. “Then you’d better run,” he told her, grinning playfully. “I won’t be responsible for what happens when I catch you.” They both giggled, and then Marinette broke away, running for the building doors. Luka darted after her, staying just at her heels, sweeping her up in his arms just in time to carry her through the elevator doors. Marinette spared a brief moment to wonder what she was doing, being so bold, and in sight of the entire lobby, too, but Luka grinned at her, and she forgot to care. Marinette leaned over him to press the button for her floor, and then forgot everything but his mouth under hers. 

Later, when they said a lingering goodbye at her door, and he asked her if she’d like to go out again, she didn’t even hesitate before agreeing. She’d figure out a way to explain it to Alya later.

Fiction Master Post

[okay-victoria]

What do people think of Tanya? AKA: Actually, a lot of people agree with Lehrgen

Summary: WHOOOOO BOY. You know it’s going to be fun when my subsections have to have their own subsections. Briefly, there is the Good [people who like Tanya both personally and professionally], the Bad [people who like/love Tanya professionally but not personally], and the Ugly [people who ideally, Tanya will never speak to, look at, send mail to, or be in the general vicinity of ever again]. 

I would say most people fall into the “Bad” category - they recognize her value as an officer, sometimes to a worshipful degree, but on a personal level range anywhere from thinking she’s a creepy child to actively disliking her. Unfortunately for Tanya, the people that fall into the Ugly category are as a rule higher-ranking than the ones in the Good category, and most people in the Bad category seem to like her specifically in her military role, and it is questionable they’d want her as even a coworker outside of that, let alone as a friend.

The Good

People who’re in here: People who have only ever heard of Tanya in the context of the Silver Wings award, people she interacts with in the Imperial Navy; rando soldiers; someone kinda high up in the later-war Eastern Army command; Ugar

People who only know her from Silver Wings:

V1/C1

Describes the nice aura people would see in someone who wins the Silver Wings.

The Navy

V3/C2

A naval officer does assess Tanya as having a predatory look, but doesn’t seem to think particularly badly of it, he just notes it, and then says “Degurechaff was a fellow soldier he could be proud of, which was why he extended his hand in utmost seriousness to wish her well.”

Rando Soldiers

There’s no real good single quote on this, but over time Tanya comes in to reinforce various units and leaves behind various impressions, ranging through Good, Bad, and Ugly, but anyway, there almost have to be low & middle ranking officers and soldiers who are presumably nothing but grateful to Tanya for rescuing them, even though we never get much of anything from their perspective.

Others

A superior officer of Tanya’s in Eastern Army command, in V5/C1, gets a transfer request for Tanya’s unit and reflects he is sad to be losing her.

Ugar - I don’t have down any specific pieces, but IMO it comes across in the LNs that Ugar is generally well-disposed to Tanya and doesn’t have the positive professional/negative personal thoughts that most other people close to her do.

The Bad

People who’re in here: Tanya’s academy/war college instructors, the 203rd battalion & later Kampfgruppe, Zettour, Rudersdorf, Generic Superior Officers, Romel, Lehrgen’s professional opinion

Tanya’s Academy & War College Instructors:

V1/C1

Tanya’s zeal during academy scares her instructors.

V1/C4

The instructors scrawled “abnormal” across the top of Tanya’s file.

“In the academy, we were told over and over – and, for some reason, over again – to love our troops. Weirdly, now that I think about it, I feel like they emphasized this the most when talking to me.” <= Tanya...you’re...you’re so close.

V1/C5

Mentioned that some teachers in the academy are on Lehrgen’s side of the What The Fuck Do We Do With Tanya debate.

V3/C5

Romel’s summation of her personnel assessment notes that at least on paper, the academy and the war college gave good overall evaluations of her.

203rd Battalion:

V1/C3

[Visha] “The moment she turned her icy cold eyes on us like we were objects to be appraised, I shrank from her in spite of myself. People might laugh at me for being afraid of such a little kid, but those eyes reminded me of the way a cat looks when it’s playing with a mouse, which creeped me out”

[Visha] “I was different from Lieutenant Degurechaff, who could calmly nail fleeing soldiers in the back with optical sniping or explosion formulas. I was relieved because I wouldn’t have to shoot.”

V1/C5

[Visha] “Was she an agent of the devil or of God? It had to be one or the other. Ahh, I can’t believe I have an ally more horrible than the enemy. She’s not human. I would bet my life on it. Me and a few others saw it once. During training, one of our teammates dropped like he was dead. The captain gave him a good kick, and before we knew it, she was back on his feet. I had been staring into the abyss of death myself…the captain heaped abuse on me. But I know, I saw it: she charged into the avalanche to save me. Even after my friends told me that she tossed my busted body aside like a used rag, I believe. She is definitely a good commander, even if I’m not sure about her as a human being. Of course, we all laugh and bad-mouth her…if the captain is an apostle of God, then only the devil can possibly exist.” <= in good news, Tanya, you are currently winning on your quest against Being X and mostly making people believe that he’s the Devil for allowing you to exist!

V2/C1

[Weiss] also refers to Tanya as a vampire

[Weiss] thinks Tanya is arrogant

[Visha] “her thought is That’s so low, Major.” <= this is in response to Tanya pulling out her child voice to announce they were going to bomb Dacia’s factory.

[Weiss] “Weiss has only known her for a short time, but even he can pick up the displeasure his superior doesn’t bother hiding. Her mood is as dangerous as nitroglycerin. When Weiss quietly takes a step back, everyone discreetly follows suit. Nobody wants to be so close to Major von Degurechaff when she’s irritated.”

V2/C5

[Grantz] “If the devil exists, it has to be our instructor, the commander of the 203rd Aerial Mage Assault Battalion, the legendary Major von Degurechaff. The way she smiled. The way she looked at us like we were maggots. The way she seemed thirsty for blood. I’d believe she had tried to kill a rebellious underclassman or crack his skull open. If I screw up on the battlefield, she’ll definitely kill me. That’s how threatened I felt by the instructor who just had to also be my advisor…I wanna cry.”

[Grantz] “This was the major who had once said during a speech at the academy that deadweight should be killed…This is crazy. No one said it aloud, but it was the look on everyone’s faces. This was a nighttime mission to abduct enemy soldiers…Magic Second Lieutenant Warren Grantz realized he was shaking. My survival instinct was screaming. I wanted to avoid the war, the combat, the killing. I was hesitating. But one glance from Major von Degurechaff was enough to subjugate that instinct. She was far more terrifying…I was so terrified I hardly felt like myself anymore…How could the major just calmly sing a hymn?”

[203rd banter] Visha asks if anyone wants to trade places with her so she doesn’t have to be with Tanya all the time, and Weiss and Grantz are not itching to take her up on the offer.

V2/C6

[Grantz] Is really, really bothered by how chill Tanya seems to be about Arene.

V2/C7

[Weiss] Reflects on all the horrible things Tanya has put him through, but ends his reflection on the note that he understands why it was necessary to prepare them for war.

V3/C5

“Apparently, the troops serving directly under her thought she was a great field officer” <= Romel re: Tanya’s personnel file

V4/C5

“‘Please have the 203rd be part of your Kampfgruppe. All of us in the battalion wish to continue serving under you.’”

Tanya doesn’t get what she wants, is then pissed, and it gives off weird abusive-parent vibes where all her children try to flee and not be present, and for the ones who have to be (Weiss & Visha), they take it by flinching, cowering, praying to God for Tanya not to explode, etc.

V5/C4

[Visha] “Reality is far too unreal. She’s crazy. There’s something strange about her...The colonel cackled – no, she giggled, smiling like a child. It was positively surreal to see her eyeing the enemy with her tender gaze and licking her lips. She snickered, but what was so funny? She was terrifying...Dripping red liquid. Pink things that used to be humans, flying everywhere. And opposite that scene was a beaming little girl. It was so surreal, it made more sense for me to suppose I had gone insane. No, maybe I really did go insane. The sight of my superior officer nodding with satisfaction and beginning a confession of her faith was horrific. I didn’t get even a glimmer of madness from her beautiful, innocent eyes. They were the eyes of a stubborn servant of logic, full of pure reason. But that’s what was horrific: those eyes stuck on that doll-like face.”

V5/C5

Tanya has some good banter with her Kampfgruppe soldiers and it seems like everyone’s getting along.

V8/C4

T: ‘Are you saying you throw yourself into the slaughter purely, justly – sane and sober? Don’t make me laugh. That’s a broken man talking. Going to war after downing some liquid courage with a grimace is much more human.’ He frowns for a moment, perhaps thinking to argue back, and then whines, ‘So are you drunk, then, Colonel?’ <= yes, a random officer from Tanya’s Kampfgruppe just asked if she was drunk and that’s why she’s always throwing herself into battle so excitedly.

V8/C5

T: ‘Glad you’re safe, Lieutenant.’ V: ‘Thank you, ma’am. That said, I would have rather you spared me from getting caught up in that attack.’ T: ‘What choice did I have?’ V: ‘What is that supposed to mean?’ Serebryakov puffs her cheeks out in a pout, which is surely a sign that she’s feeling better. <= Tanya, Visha wanted you to apologize, not excuse yourself, damn!

Zettour

V1/C5

“He doesn’t know whether they should praise her original ideas or call her insane.”

“Apparently, she hasn’t forgotten that she once said she wanted a battalion. She, a first lieutenant, to a brigadier general…something liable to provoke antipathy? She’s already done that.”

“The smirk on Tanya’s face reminds Zettour of some unpleasant rumors he’s heard about her.”

V2/C5

Zettour both remains horrified that Tanya was able to speak so frankly about a world war, yet he is sympathetic to the fact that she could do it because she understood what would happen.

V4/C3

Tells Rudersdorf that he “unwaveringly trusts” her military decisions.

V4/C5

Tanya comes to Zettour to request better units than he’s given her. He finds the request beyond arrogant, seeing as how pressed they are for men, especially for the fact that this is shortly after the Moscow situation and her battalion has “gone too far and been a handful”.

“Somehow, he didn’t think there could be that many damaged kids in the Empire like this young teen back from the battlefield. And actually, regardless of how he felt about it as a soldier, personally, the idea of interacting with them was terrifying.”

“But Degurechaff was unfazed and inquired about their experience with killing people. She saw people as products, and she was asking if they had been tested – that was the nuance. Could such a completely utilitarian view of people even be taught? Certainly, the army is an organization that pays attention to individual functions. Substitutability and cost consciousness are two factors hounding everyone. But can you really judge a human being by those criteria alone?...That innocent face and her straight back made her look something like a surreal doll. Doesn’t…Doesn’t anyone think this is strange?”

Zettour is mentioned to have originally had the same doubts about Tanya as Lehrgen, but after her performance he claims he is ready to “swallow any pill, no matter how bitter” (I think working with Tanya being the bitter pill) to win the war.

Zettour gives Tanya a little discretion to commandeer some equipment, she takes a lot of discretion. Zettour sort of laughs at off saying “this was Degurechaff” but does also mention that Tanya’s actions “amounted to a borderline interference in Supreme Command.”

V8/C4

Zettour is impressed with how Tanya has trained Grantz and thinks that if she wasn’t so good in the field, he’d put her in education.

“Sure, Degurechaff may have been broken, but not as an officer.”

Rudersdorf

V2/C1

Rudersdorf says that Tanya has a “distinct” [read: probably means difficult] personality, but if he just divided people into useful and not useful, she was useful.

V4/C3

Zettour and Rudersdorf debate Tanya, and he mentions that he only thinks she is talented in the military realm.

Generic Superior Officers

V2/C5

Tanya has a misunderstanding with her CO on the Rhine front. He wants her to train some new recruits normally, she mistakes it as saying “well, kill as few of them as possible, but do what you gotta do,” she gets kind of reprimanded over it.

V3/Intro

“Performance Evaluation: Major Tanya von Degurechaff:

Counselor’s Notes on character and conduct [this is printed normally]: Abundant loyalty and excellent fighting spirit. Follow regulations to the letter. Devoutly religious.

[this part is handwritten] Has a bad tendency to take matters into her own hands. Competent but as difficult to handle as a mad dog.”

V3/C1

“Some of the officers even added another thought in the back of their minds: Major von Degurechaff might actually be able to wring out even better results.”

V3/C3

Tanya goes wild on her base commander when he won’t let her sortie to Brest to prevent the French army from evacuating. <= Oddly, IIRC, no one ever like, apologizes to Tanya for not believing her, which is kinda rude, so mostly the incident reflects negatively on her instead of being a balanced: ok she did violate some rules, but...maybe if we’d listened to her we’d have avoided the rest of the fucking war, so seems like it might have been called for?

V3/C5

“The most important evaluations during a war are the ones from the battlefield, and those were all over the place.” <= Romel, re: Tanya’s personnel file

“The second was that although the evaluations were contradictory, she had achieved enough that she was considered an outstanding soldier. Awkwardly, regardless of how she was as an officer, as an individual mage, she was thought very highly of. Her number of kills was among the highest on the Rhine front.” 

“In any case, strictly as a mage, she was unrivaled. As an officer, too, she was by no means incompetent. So they must have been giving her to him as reinforcements and as an excuse to get her out of their hair. Honestly, he felt like they were foisting off their problem on him. ‘They’re telling me to take a mad dog out on a walk with no leash?’ He let slip a complaint. Maybe it was just prejudice, but that wasn’t what it felt like to General von Romel. After all, he was basically being asked to bet on a bad hand.”

V4/C2

Everyone on the General Staff realizes the huge amount of fallout from Tanya attacking Moscow. The backstory of this is that when Tanya asked for permission, the General Staff thought she was just going to do a fly-by and freak them out, not attack the city. It pretty much kills any opportunity they had to negotiate a quick settlement with Russia in the cradle.

Romel

V3/C5

Romel’s first meeting with Tanya pretty much goes: “so arrogant it’s invigorating...unbelievably insolent...in addition to her self-important attitude, it exuded heavy sarcasm...not only was she arrogant, she was clearly horribly warped.”

“Any commissioned officer would understand just from hearing her make that one comment why the Northern and Western Groups couldn’t control her. Having a mage battalion drop out of the command structure was almost like losing a whole division” <= ie, Tanya’s previous superiors must have really disliked her to give her up.

“She simply decided she would be a patriot if it was good for the nation. In short, she’s a capable lunatic, but the bad part is she doesn’t realize she’s twisted…She’s crazy. And competent. And more sincere than anyone I’ve ever known.”

“Without a doubt, she’s going to end up being the most horrible person I know. And she’ll probably also be one of my most reliable friends on the battlefield.”

V3/C6

Romel reflects that she is a mad dog, and that she is an ego-crushing entity for the average officer. <= while Romel never brings this up, this has a *ton* of important real-world implications for Tanya, especially assuming men still have more than a little trouble listening to women outside the military. Even if you believe the best rumors about Tanya, you still might not want to hire her because she’s going to be better than you, and most people hate that feeling.

V4/C1

Tanya goes to the Eastern Front, and Romel reflects that he is sad to lose her and that once you got used to her, he found her easy to work with.

The Ugly

People who’re in here: Lehrgen’s personal opinion, Some wartime randos, OG Eastern Army Command, OG Northern Army Command, Imperial Government, people who mostly know Tanya from her Arene reputation, Western Army Command; Implied Future View of Tanya

Wartime Randos

V1/C5

“Some of those who had been on the front lines had a strange reaction to the name [the 11th Goddess] we picked. They claimed it was the worst joke they’d ever heard.” <= ie, Tanya was the Devil, not a goddess

V2/C1

Tanya is happy that Dacia has zero airpower. She displays her happiness by smiling maniacally and skipping around her tent. Everyone thinks Tanya is happy that they just got invaded again and the war is growing and she can go kill people. 

V2/C5

A kinda random infantry guy is still having nightmares about Tanya in like, 1960, and reflects back on how he felt when he heard Tanya casually call for friendly fire to go right through where her men are flying. He questions why anyone listens to her.

“But when I replay the memories in my mind, I can’t help but shout, You monster! A hero, a star, and outstanding magic officer. You, ma’am, were a great officer. To all of us imperial soldiers serving on the Rhine lines, you were a god...Yeah, she’s a god – an immensely powerful one who presides over life and death. Her words, brimming with a spine-chilling anger, swept over the area as if she was planning to attract all the enemy hostility like moths to a flame. Major von Degurechaff had bared her fangs. It invited a violent reaction. The Republic wanted to hunt the devil. In other words, they devoted all humanity’s wisdom to killing the god of death. Gods don’t die, but those of us next to them? …They were right to call her a god of death. She killed the enemy, and the enemy killed our men. Then the noble major, with a glance at all the dead in the mud, took her leave. Fucking hell.” <= and you thought Lehrgen hated her. But, again, real-world implications of this could very well be that post-war, Tanya is a total persona-non-grata as someone that had a high degree of influence on how rabidly everyone fought against the Empire, and how the Empire was treated in the aftermath. I don’t make it out quite that bad, but it could be really rough if someone wanted to make it that way.

V4/C5

“The Guard Division had been on many assignments dealing with formal events, so we had experience…But what is that? That absurd, expressionless, doll-like creature was giving orders to people who appeared to be bloodthirsty mages just back from the war zone.” 

“Could it really…could it really be possible for a child to wear such a smile?...Her hands were soft and would have looked more natural holding a doll, but instead, this odd, human-shaped creature spread her arms as she delivered a welcoming address. No one. None of the high-ranking officers present could raise an objection to this thing. The veteran mages all obeyed this inhuman being in the form of a person.”

OG Eastern Army Command

V1/C5

“The members of the eastern army had been openly angered by her annoyed look until days before, but now their faces were pale. She said exactly what she thought: ‘Incompetent, pitiful, lazy, arrogant, unprepared, mentally disabled, inattentive, no powers of observation’ and her conclusion was that ‘all mages of the Eastern Army group require reeducation’”

“The ranking officers from the regional field armies who had come to protest ended up bearing the brunt of the General Staff members’ critical glares.”

OG Northern Army Command

V2/C3

“With no idea when Colonel General von Wragell might explode in his seat at the head of the table, Lieutenant General and Chief of Staff von Schreise was inwardly annoyed, but at the same time, the atmosphere was so tense he wanted to bury his head in his hands.”

“Schreise couldn’t be the only one thinking that he would have thrown her out immediately if she weren’t a representative of the Central Army’s view.”

“‘You’re very humble, aren’t you?’ one of the staff officers murmured, curling the corners of his mouth into a smile that was more of a sneer.”

“Schreise had never seen a major with such a big head without making light of him…without hesitating even a little, she – a mere battalion commander – matter-of-factly gave her opinion to the staff and even had the audacity to disagree with them. Even with the sacred, inviolable General Staff’s power behind her, she was nearing an inexcusable challenge to authority. A head could be allowed to swell only so far. There’s a limit to what can be tolerated, even for recipients of the Silver Wings Assault Badge!...the major, though still rather new, was readily crossing a line of which all graduates from the war college should have been aware.”

V3/C5

“There was a pile of especially severe criticism from the Northern Army Group. They said she was transferred after voicing a clear objection to those in authority.”

Imperial Government

V2/C5

Tanya sinks a Commonwealth vessel, she is court-martialed, the military says she did nothing wrong [which I agree with], but the diplomats want to punish her to appease the Commonwealth. After the not-guilty verdict, Tanya’s smug-ass smile makes everyone go: umm...should we really have let her get away with this??

V4/C2

She then further makes the diplomats hate her over her Moscow raid.

V4/C3

Rudersdorf warns Zettour that Tanya going overboard is earning Zettour criticism from the government.

V4/C4

During her second court-martial, Tanya doing the most in Moscow manages to fracture the relationship between the government/supreme army command & the guys more in charge of the day-to-day war, like Zettour & Rudersdorf.

International Post-Hoc View on Arene

V2/C6

“They gunned people down like they were so many targets in a firing exercise. They got ‘points’ for shooting people. People had blocked themselves in, so they used heavy-explosion formulas to bombard whole districts. Those are all painful memories of the tragedy being shared today. Even counting only the confirmed deaths, the city of Arene lost half its population that day. In order to avoid the heavy responsibility for each soldier that would result if they went into the city and had to visually confirm their targets, they aimed to cause widespread fires via artillery bombardment from positions surrounding the city. A portion of the documents shows that they had chosen targets that were likely to spread the flames as proof-of-concept for firestorm.” <= the reporter doesn’t know this, but Tanya is the person that comes up with that proof-of-concept for creating a firestorm, as well as the person that creates the case to make it legal to repress a civilian revolt with a military. To me it seems like Arene is presented as the Tanyaverse Bombing of Dresden, except how it would be viewed if Germany had won WWII.

Tanya thinks about how if the Empire loses, her reputation is in the toilet if it becomes known that she did this.

Western Army Command

V2/C6

[The Lt. General or above that is in command of the Western Front] “A terrifying report or a proposal from hell. The one who thought of this was either a lawyer so cunning the devil would invite them to join forces or a criminal. This way of thinking is practically inhuman. Only a devil who forgot their reason and conscience in their mother’s womb could come up with such a tactic. That someone would equate having the technical capabilities for an operation with actually doing it…Are they deranged?”

“Luckily, an army corps commander summoning a mere major is extremely rare. Exceptional though it was, it meant there was a chance he might have to summon this monster again someday…Doing his best not to look directly at the monster straightening her posture in front of him, the army corps commander accepted that it was for work and met her.”

“The principles behind the actions of this major in front of him were impossible to understand using anyone’s logic or emotions. Her inorganic eyes compelled you to conclude that her thoughts, her frameworks, her way of being were all warped.”

This guy keeps going on and on more than I have here, tbh he’s one of Tanya’s main haters. It’s fine Tanya, it’s only the guy in charge of Western Army Command, who listens to him?

“I hope no one noticed that I just flinched, thought the army corps commander, sensing that he was distinctly afraid of her…No worries about what? He deeply wanted to ask what she was planning to do, but he held back. He told himself it was surely better not to know…But there is probably no one more suited to being a soldier than you. Perhaps you feel at home in hell on the Rhine front.”

V3/C5

“The Western Army Group declined to evaluate her, saying her good and bad points neutralized each other, so it was difficult to rate her. Furthermore, she had attempted to resist orders.”

Implied Future View of Tanya/The Parable of the Salamander

V4/C5

“From what I heard, the Salamander is adorable and very clever. If you show it affection, it’ll get attached to you. Like a German shepherd, it can become a trustworthy member of the family. Sometimes it begs or plays tricks, but apparently, everyone ends up overlooking these things. Of course, Mrs. Legen grew angry and screamed that it went too far, but…Well, in the end, everyone doted on the Salamander. Because when it’s even more reliable than a German shepherd, how could you not? At some point, though, the Salamander’s requests and pranks grew to be too much. But what do you think happened when no one was sympathetic to dependable Mrs. Legen, who had continued to angrily scold it the whole time? That’s right. No one was able to stop the Salamander! Of course, the Salamander loved and cherished everyone. But sadly, there was no one to teach it right from wrong. So the Salamander never realized that everyone disliked it. Soon it had exhausted everyone’s patience.” <= for reference, Tanya commands the Salamander Kampfgruppe; this is told as a cautionary tale that Andrew says circulates throughout the future Empire.

Your Author’s Take on Tanya’s Reputation vs Reality

The above should have real-world implications for Tanya’s personal life as far as friends, and for her career both within and beyond the military once the war is over, because, you know, people talk. Anyone who phones up an old pal because said old pal had some quality time with Tanya and they’re curious what she’s like is probably not going to receive a glowing personal recommendation, and the higher up those people are in society, the worse it is likely to be. 

Even for people who think she has a genius applicable beyond the military sphere, outside of extreme circumstances people generally don’t want to employ anyone, no matter how smart, who is known for being unpredictable, uncontrollable, arrogant in the extreme, abusive towards coworkers, manipulative, possibly just straight up evil, etc etc. Within the military, after the war I would expect her to be hampered by the fact that a lot of people won’t want to work with her unless there’s a really pressing reason they need her skillset.

I can’t believe I’m bringing this show up from years past, but she’s sort of in the same position as Dr. House from the TV show - famously talented; famously toxic in the workplace; only one place will employ him, and at a much lower salary than his reputation should command, and even so, thinking that he could get away with that in real life is pushing the suspension of disbelief for the show. The same goes with friendships - very few well-adjusted adults are willing to befriend The Cool Asshole in real life.

When it does happen IRL, those relationships usually aren’t healthy & happy, and can easily end up with borderline-emotionally-abusive undertones because the follower is afraid of losing the leader, and molds themselves to fit what the other person wants so as to be an unchallenging, uncritical presence in the life of their idol.

For a story about an adult man reincarnated as a young girl fighting in magical WW1.5, YS manages to put a surprisingly interesting twist on the Main Character is a Cool Asshole Without Consequences model, with Tanya getting away with it in the present due to extreme circumstances, not realizing that the war is the only reason she’s getting away with it, and facing many implied future consequences for it.

While it’s entirely possible and often completely necessary to handwave Tanya overcoming this for storytelling purposes, as you can’t go many places story-wise if Tanya is as screwed as it sounds like she’s going to be, standard reality is that she’s gonna need to do some serious legwork to dig herself out of the hole she’s in, both personally and professionally. 

I appreciate that the crux of a good Tanya story is often Tanya thinking normal reality will apply to her but then bypassing normal reality to end up somewhere she never intended on being, much to her chagrin, and readers therefore may feel adhering to realism violates the reality of Tanyaverse. 

For the purposes of this story, I have chosen to stick with where the preponderance of evidence leads and apply a good amount of normal reality to Tanya, because that is exactly what allows me to proceed along a different avenue of Tanya misunderstanding things and ending up somewhere she never intended on being, keeping to the spirit of Tanya stories. Plus, Tanya doesn’t seem very intent on growing as a person in the absence of consequences and I need my character growth drivers.

...and I can’t avoid admitting I still end up handwaving some portion of those consequences for Tanya, since, as stated above, it’s...hard to go anywhere with a story if you don’t.

[miraculousmarifan]

Felinette Month 2020 - Day 6: Detective

Enjoy this unedited, angsty fic for another wonderful @felinettenovember prompt. I attempted to do something different but I’m seeing wayyyyyy too much of my own thought process projected onto both Marinette and Felix. 

Have fun! Around 1700 words

"Stop laughing at me! I'm telling you that I think she's cheating on me. Why are you still laughing?" Felix spiraled while Claude continued laughing. 

"This is Marinette we're talking about! What could possibly convince you that she was cheating?" Claude gasped out between laughs. Felix had been growing redder by the minute under his indignation.

“She has been sneaking around, avoiding me whenever there is a spare minute to chat, whispering to her friends and suddenly quieting and flushing whenever she catches sight of me. She won’t even look me in the eyes anymore. All I wanted was to ask her on a date for tomorrow, take her someplace nice and quiet where she can relax and we can just talk. I even got her a nice necklace that will be gorgeous with most of her outfits. How would you explain her sneaking off every day?” Felix had already worked himself into a panic, rolling it around in his head over and over until he came to the only explanation that made sense. Marinette had to be cheating. He didn’t know with whom. She was so lively and sweet, friends with everyone, and many guys (and a few girls) had a thing for her. It could be just about anyone. 

“Marinette has the decency to at least break up with you if she was going to choose another guy. You know that. I know that. Let’s not pretend like that is even possible.” Claude sobered, finally realizing that Felix wasn’t in a good enough place with this. “Look, I know she’s the best thing that’s happened to you in a while and that you’ve been really stressed out lately, but you need to take a few deep breaths before you drive yourself crazy. Don’t you think that it’s more likely that she’s just busy and stressed out working on some project? Don’t her classmates constantly ask her to design and make them stuff, especially for events? Isn’t that more likely?”

“That’s not it. Trust me, I can tell. Just because this is our first Valentine’s Day together, doesn’t mean I'm new to her patterns. She is avoiding me,” Felix glumly asserted. The bell sounded, releasing them from school for the day. Felix grabbed his bag and quickly walked towards Marinette’s class. At the last moment, he changed his mind about going directly to her and hid near a column.

“I’m just nervous that he’s going to find out. This isn’t something small to hide and it’s been really hard. I can’t even look at him right now.” Marinette sighed to Alya, walking quickly towards the door. “I need to hurry so I’m not late to meet Luka. Thanks for listening to me rambling!” 

Felix tried to quickly follow out of the school, sneaking to find out why she was so determined to meet Luka. He hadn’t met Luka yet, but he knew from context that he had already confessed to Marinette, prior to when they began dating, and Marinette had seriously considered dating him. Instead of accepting she chose to wait and see how I felt about her… Oh no… she regrets it but doesn’t want to ruin my Valentine’s Day! 

Felix fought against the overwhelming weight of self-depreciation and fear, trying to follow Marinette down the street towards the Seine so he could at least confirm with his own eyes. He was so caught up in his own panic that he nearly lost her when she stopped in line to grab two hot chocolates. Ducking into a shop when he realized his mistake, he watched and chastised himself. This is why Marinette is going to him. Even when I’m trying to focus on her, I’m only thinking of me.

Within a few minutes, Marinette was on the move again with Felix secretly in tow. Luka was waiting outside the house boat and gladly accepted the hot chocolate. Felix couldn’t believe that he tried to hand Marinette a few euros to cover the cost. Luka handed her back the hot chocolate and quickly jogged onto the deck to grab his backpack. With an overly full bag, the two started off again, talking quickly as they walked swiftly. Felix knew he needed to focus on how they interacted before confronting Marinette about this. She shouldn’t be stuck with him if she was unhappy, even if it would make Valentine’s Day disappointing for him.

Soon the pair were turning down a strange alley, not sketchy per say but definitely not where Felix was expecting. He tried to peer around before turning in but quickly realized he was alone in the alley. He hurried in, looking around for where they could’ve gone before noticing a ladder leading up to a small terrace, mostly hidden from view. The flush that was developing from all of this exercise quickly drained and the pit steadily growing in his stomach became unbearable.

Marinette’s laugh rang out from above. If he backed up and peered up, Felix could see some hanging lights and possibly some lawn furniture. They were definitely up there. He knew he wouldn’t have the courage to wait for them to leave to confront them, so he needed to go up. Another deep breath first, to steady his nerves.

He grabbed the ladder and started to climb. Poking his head up through the opening to the terrace, he glanced around and saw unfinished decorations in excess. Marinette still trying to hang some things up, curtains? And Luka setting up a table with candles and fake flowers? Oh god. I walked in on them preparing their date… I need to get this over with. 

“Marinette…” his voice came out shakier than he wanted but he hoped she wouldn’t notice. He moved to sit on the ground near the ladder. Her head turned in a strange, jerky motion that betrayed either fear or guilt, Felix couldn’t decide. Her mouth dropped in surprise.

“What’re you doing here right now? You weren’t supposed to see this yet,” she blurted out. Luka also looked over at the two and looked embarrassed at being there.

“Unless you want me to stay and help you with anything else, I think I’ll just leave now.” Luka picked up his bag and walked towards the ladder, faster than a walk but smooth enough to not really look like running away. Felix looked him in the eyes as he approached.

“That’s probably a good idea. I’m sure that Marinette will fill you in on anything important later,” his tone was sharp, nearly accusatory. He didn’t feel much patience towards the other boy right now, even if they weren’t actively engaged in anything when he got up to this hideaway.

“So Marinette, do you want to discuss why you’ve been avoiding me lately and going to secret places alone with Luka?” Felix hoped he sounded more calm than he felt as he stared coldly at Marinette. It hurt to look at her like this, to feel so abandoned by the one person that felt like home.

“Well for one, this is the first time that Luka and I have been alone and others are planning on coming, unless Luka texted them not to. I’ve been enlisting his and a few others’ help to get this set up,” she turned, gesturing to the decorations set up. “The only parts left to do involved putting up the canopy, just in case it gets wet before tomorrow night, the curtains, for a little more insulation from the weather, and to set up these last few details that might’ve blown away if I left them outside. It was a rather big project so I wanted to make sure every piece went smoothly. As for the avoiding part… it’s actually rather difficult not to talk about this and ruin the surprise for you but I guess that won’t be an issue anymore,” Marinette grinned sheepishly at the floor. She took a few steps closer and sat down on the ground, a few feet from him to let him process, but looking more earnestly at him. He appreciated that she knew how he preferred space while working through topics but loved contact the moment he was done, and this was definitely a lot to process.

“I need you to explain more clearly what is happening. This all seemed like you were cheating on me, or at least planning to break up with me, but your words don’t make sense with that right now,” Felix couldn’t keep from pleading. She had thrown a lifeline while he was drowning but that didn’t mean she was planning on helping pull him back to the boat. He remembered her firm insistence that he treat others with better manners outside of formal events and added after the moment’s hesitation, “Please.”

“Oh Felix… I’m so sorry that this gave you the impression that that was happening here. I knew you’d been getting busier at home and wanted to throw you a little getaway where we probably wouldn’t be found by your bodyguard right away so you could relax more… I needed help from the others to find this place, get approval to use it for about a couple of weeks, and to set up all of this without the risk of it getting ruined. I just wanted the best surprise for you for our first Valentine’s Day together…” As Marinette spoke, Felix’s eyes widened before dropping his head into his hands.

“My god Marinette. I am such an idiot. Here I thought I was some amazing detective, figuring out the mystery and really I just worked myself up. Claude was right. I was thinking so much about everything that I drove myself crazy,” Felix couldn’t help but bitterly laugh at the idea. 

“So he didn’t tell you what was happening when you were freaking out?” Marinette straightened up and pulled his hands into hers, eyes deadly serious.

“What do you mean? He just told me that you cheating wasn’t possible and I needed to take a few deep breaths to calm down…” Felix couldn’t quite grasp why Marinette looked flabbergasted.

“Well Claude and I need to sit down and discuss when it’s an appropriate time to break the code of silence for a surprise. Spiraling like this is an appropriate time to let you in on the surprise. My goodness…”

Felix finally understood.

“I’m going to kill him for not telling me at that point.”

[writingsforfandoms-multi]

the thing with kate | tyler seguin

requested: yes [2 requests into 1]

prompts:

17. “i just need some time to myself”

24. “i don’t blame you, i wouldn’t love me either” and

25. “go on. tell me you don’t love me”

summary: you get a message from kate saying her and tyler are a thing while he’s in a relationship with you

a.n: this isn’t me hating on kate (i honestly don’t care about their relationship, whatever it may be, because it’s not my business) so please don’t come at me

—-

the messages started a few days ago.

you were getting DM’s from a girl named Kate Kirchof and at first you didn’t believe the things she was telling you about her and tyler, but then she started telling you very intimate details about him. you went to her profile and she was private, but you did have mutuals like some of the players and their wives and girlfriends.

you didn’t believe this kate girl in the beginning, there were always people in your DMs saying tyler was cheating on you but since there wasn’t proof you never believed them. you figured kate was someone who wanted to stir things up in your relationship, but after she gave you proof of sleeping with him, you were starting to believe her.

you didn’t know how to act around tyler which is why you were avoiding him. you were angry, confused, and most of all hurt.

So what did you do? you texted the wags group chat.

you all decided to meet at your place; you and tyler weren’t living together yet so you had your own space to just talk with the girls.

once all the ladies are settled, you take a deep breath before you start.

“I’ve been getting messages from someone saying they’re sleeping with tyler” you pause for a moment, “it’s not like it hasn’t happened before, but this time the girl gave proof” you say as you fumble with your bracelet.

everyone starts asking questions at once like ‘who was it?’ ‘are you sure?’ ‘what proof?’

“someone named kate kirchof” you look at their reactions and they all look uncomfortable. “you guys know her?” you ask

they all look at each other, avoiding your gaze. “who is she?” you ask calmly even though you’re starting to get nervous.

allie cogliano hesitates before she speaks, “her and tyler used to be….a thing” she tries to find the word for it

“a thing?” you ask

“their relationship was complicated. they were never official but they were something.” katie hoaldridge says as she looks carefully at your reaction

“like a friends with benefits type of thing?” you clarify

“something like that” one of the girls says

“but i’m sure tyler broke it off once he started seeing you, that’s why you don’t see her at any of the team activities anymore” another one says as she tries to reassure you, but it doesn’t do much.

after the girls tell you more about kate, you feel hurt. you knew tyler slept around before you started dating, but kate wasn’t just someone he was sleeping with, she was someone important in his life and he didn’t tell you about her in these two years you’ve been together.

letting go of someone who was important in your life was hard, so you weren’t really sure if they were truly done with each other. although the majority of you knew tyler would never cheat on you, there was the small chance that he would. old habits die hard.

after the girls left, you decided to open a bottle of alcohol and drown your sorrows while being wrapped in a big, fluffy blanket with netflix on the tv.

you glance at your phone when you get a text notification. it was from tyler:

are you avoiding me?

you don’t respond and a few minutes later another text comes in:

are you mad at me?

then:

i’m worried about you, at least let me know you’re okay please

you finally decide to reply:

i’m fine, I just need some time to myself

with that, you turn off your phone and continue to drink and watch netflix, not wanting to deal with anything until tomorrow.

—

“i don’t know what's going on with her man” tyler says as he stands in Jamie’s kitchen.

“have you asked her about it?” he says as he grabs a water bottle from the fridge.

“I can’t, she’s been avoiding me like the plague” tyler sighs, frustrated.

as jamie is about to answer, katie walks in, “babe?”

“in the kitchen” jamie says in her direction

she freezes when she sees tyler in the kitchen and then her gaze turns hard. “where’d you go?” jamie asks as he gives her a hug and a peck on the cheek

“i was out with the girls” tyler perks up at hearing this

“was y/n there?” he asks as he steps towards her

katie crosses her arms, “yes and right now she just wants time to think” she adds, knowing he’d ask about you.

“I don’t even know what I did” tyler defends

“maybe you should ask kate” katie can’t help but mumble under her breath, but tyler heard her.

“what?” he says as his eyes grow wide.

“forget it” she sneers as she turns around to head into the living room but stops when she feels jamie grab her hand and spins her around to face him.

“if it was you, i’d want someone to tell me” he says and her eyes soften.

she glances over at tyler who tries to plead with her, “it’s been killing me these past few days not knowing what I did. she means everything to me katie, I can’t lose her” he shakes his head

she looks at jamie before nodding and telling tyler about the conversation that happened earlier.

tyler races out of their house and gets in the car to go to your apartment. Tyler's pissed, he couldn’t believe kate would do something like that. even though they don’t have a romantic relationship anymore, they were still friends, until now.

he reaches your place in record time and starts knocking on your door.

“who is it?” you yell as you sit up on the couch

“it- it’s me” you hear tyler’s voice

you put the bottle on the table and stumble your way to the door.

your mind is jumbled by the alcohol that you forgot why you were mad until you opened the door.

“wait, I'm mad at you” you pout as you try to close the door on him but he sticks his foot in the way and pushes the door open.

“leave” you say as you point at the door

“not until we talk” he says and goes quiet.

you scoff “well go on. tell me you don’t love me, that’s why you’ve been seeing kate behind my back isn’t it”

he furiously shakes his head but before he can say anything you continue, “i don’t blame you, i wouldn’t love me either” you say quietly

he cups your cheeks and tries to get you to meet his gaze, “I’m in love you y/n, I could never cheat on you”

you look into his eyes, “then why would kate tell me otherwise” you say as your lip begins to quiver, damn you hated being an emotional drunk

“I don’t know baby, but I sure as hell am gonna find out” he says as he wipes your tears away. he brings you to his chest when he sees that the tears don’t stop flowing.

he takes you to the couch where he sits you on his lap, “you believe me, right?” he says as the panic he had of losing you comes back.

you nod your head where it’s tucked into his neck, “I trust you” you say and he breathes a sigh of relief and holds you tighter against him.

tyler wanted to talk more about the situation, but you wanted to hold off, “i’m too drunk for this conversation we’re about to have and i’ve already cried once” you tried to joke.

he gives you a sad smile, “okay baby, we’ll talk when you sober up”

even though you said you believed him, he had no idea how’d you react or if you would even remember the conversation in the morning, but he hoped to god that your relationship would be able to move forward like this situation never happened.

—

nhl masterlist

[lxvesickreality]

a consequence worth taking 2/?

Request: no request

Pairing: Cisco Ramon x Reader

Warnings: angst, swearing, mean Cisco

Word Count: 3,068

Add on: interested in a good quite a few parts in this? I definitely. More to come this weekend.

gif is NOT mine, credit to owner

"Y/N, Y/N, we gotta go! Get up. There's an emergency at S.T.A.R. Labs." you abruptly sat up, your head pounding since you took a nap and they cause you to have headaches most of the time. Your heart beat fast as Cisco's frantic voice ran through your head and the two of you scrambled to get your clothes back on, suddenly completely sober enough to drive. But it would take too long. It was extremely difficult trying to get your clothes on in the back of a vehicle but you managed and so did Cisco. 

"It'll take too long to drive there." you said. "You'll need to-" 

"Breach us? I know," Cisco cut you off with a cold tone to it. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion but before you could question him about his tone, he was out of the car waiting for you to follow behind him to breath you two to the lab. You finished tying up your shoe laces and you exited the same door Cisco did. He grabbed your hand, rather aggressively too, and breached you to the cortex. 

Stepping out of the breach, the first thing that happened was Barry speeding towards you to envelope you into a hug. You flinched at the sudden human contact and hesitantly hugged back. "Erm, not that I don't mind a hug, but why are you?"

"Neither of you were answering your phone. We thought DeVoe got to you." Barry pulled back and kept his hands on your shoulders with a concerned look on his face but it looks more relieved than it originally did. 

"Why would DeVoe get to us? He hasn't been active in a while and he's not once wanted anything to do with me." you said. 

"Actually," Barry glanced at everyone behind him; Harry, Iris, and Caitlin then looked back at you with his left hand now scratching the top of his head. "He just sent us a message. He said he's after you specifically." 

You took a step back in surprise, "Wait, why? There's nothing special about me. I'm not a Meta-human like you.`` Strangely enough, you've never been targeted by a bad guy, they went for everyone else. It was frightening having it happen to you, how could you not think it was? Barry is usually the main one then Iris because it is the love of his life following his other friends. But you? No one has ever wanted you. You had no powers, sure you were surrounded by people you loved and they loved you but you just were there. "This doesn't make any sense to me." 

"There's not much to make sense out of that, Y/N. He said he wants you so we have to protect you in anyway." Cisco replied, once again a little too coldly. You gave him an odd look and turned back to Barry. 

"I'll be fine. I taught myself how to fight when all of this began and I still have some of Cisco's tech that I could use against him. I'll be okay." 

"That won't get you very far, Y/N, you know that." Caitlin said softly. You sighed, you weren't about to go sleep at someone else's house. Your apartment was secure enough to go there and you refused to go stay with anyone else. "Why don't you stay with Cisco?" 

Before you could act, Cisco was speaking up, "She's not staying with me," 

"Can I just stay with you, Cait?" you questioned quietly. You didn't understand why Cisco was being this way towards you. You didn't do anything wrong. He has no right to be treating you this way but if he is, you won't sit here and continue to deal with it. She smiled at you and smiled, telling you 'of course'. "Cisco, we need to go back and get my car."

"Where were you guys anyway?" asked Barry. 

You two stopped in your tracks and glanced at one another before running into the breach Cisco created. 

~

DeVoe has yet to make a move towards you and it's been a few weeks. You stayed with Caitlin until you got fed up not being home alone and politely told her you'll be going back to stay at your house. The team was hesitant about it at first but let you go so you took your chance and went home. But those weeks were filled with sarcasm, rudeness, and getting snapped at by Cisco. He wouldn't tell you what was wrong so eventually, you stopped coming around him. 

You were seated on your couch with a bowl of cereal in your lap and your comfiest pajamas watching the Jimmy Fallon show. You laughed loudly at a joke and there was suddenly a knock on the door. Setting down your cereal, you peeked at the clock on your stove reading the time 11:13pm. Who could possibly be here? Cisco was behind the door with an angered facial expression when you opened the door and he didn't wait for an invitation, he barged through the doorway. 

"Cisco? What's wrong?" 

"What's wrong? What's freaking wrong?" he exclaims. "I'll tell you what's wrong. Cynthia showed up at my apartment, Y/N! Someone told her about us sleeping together and she's devastated." you were taken aback by his sudden outburst and quite honestly, a little upset with it. Was he trying to blame you solely? If he was, it wouldn't be fair. It took two to tango. 

"Cisco, I-" 

"Was it you?" he accused. 

"What? Of course not! Why would I?" 

"To get back at her, obviously! She 'stole your man's'. A bitch move, Y/N. How can you live with yourself?" 

Your eyes widened in shock and you snapped back, "What the hell is wrong with you? I have no way of contacting her when she's on Earth 19! I can't believe you came here, to my freaking apartment, to accuse me of telling your ex that we had sex? I have no motive for that! You guys broke up so why would I want to do something like that?" 

"You're right. I shouldn't have come here. But I'm glad I did because I can tell you this now, you and I aren't ever going to happen. We're done being friends right now." with that, he didn't bother to look at you and left your apartment, not forgetting to slam your front door behind him as he did. You jumped at the loudness and stood there for a few moments processing what just happened. How could he just leave you like this? Your heart clenched in despair once everything processed and your face got hot with tears forming in your eyes. He left you. Your best friend left you because of one mistakenly drunken night where you both pursued each other, you slept with each other and he has the audacity to do that to you? Your legs moved faster than your mind could comprehend and you ran to the window to see if you could catch Cisco but his car was speeding off down the street by the time you got to the window. You stood there with disbelief and turned your back to the wall sliding down it with tears rolling down your cheeks. You’ll catch him tomorrow. 

~

It took you a bit to get to S.T.A.R. Labs as you were exhausted from the terrifying fear that someone was watching you. You didn’t call anyone thinking it was just paranoia and eventually you passed out, you woke the next morning feeling incredibly silly for being so scared. Your heels clicked against the floor and you brought the coffee from Jitters to your lips to calm your nerves. You were about to see Cisco and honestly, you didn’t know how to react or what to do, you just knew you were angry and upset. Coming into the cortex, Iris, Barry, Caitlin, Harry, and Cisco were standing in different places talking about DeVoe ad his next moves. Cisco gave you a side glance and you happened to catch the instant mood drop. 

“Hey, Y/N,” Caitlin greeted you with a warm smile as did everyone else besides Cisco when they noticed you came in. You gave them all a small smile and set your coffee down to take your jacket off. “We were just going over a plan to stop DeVoe if he gets to you.”

“Okay and what is that?” you questioned, leaning forward on your elbows on the table looking at them. 

“Well, first, we are going to lure him here somehow. We haven’t figured out how yet but once he gets here, maybe we can act like you died? If you’re ‘dead’, he won’t want you anymore.” Barry explained walking over to Iris, throwing an arm around her shoulders. You nodded, processing the plan. It seemed to be legitimate but what if it didn’t work? 

“Okay, I can see that happening. We would need to figure out how we do that though and we will need a plan B if that doesn’t work.” you told them, taking a sip of your warm coffee from Jitters.

Caitlin gasped, her eyes lighting up and if this were a cartoon, a light would appear above her head. “I know how. Barry, you can bring her into Flash time with you. She needs just enough time to get fast enough to make a double and we can kill that double in front of DeVoe.”

“Wait, what? Caitlin, no! That will never work.” Barry exclaimed. Caitlin rushed over to the board, bringing it from its spot and taking the marker to begin writing numbers across the whole board. Cisco watched from afar examining the process of what she was doing. “What’re you doing?”

“I’m calculating how long she would be in there before she burnt out. This all just depends on time. Barry, when we went into it with you, Cisco and I were still conscious. You were-”

“Sharing an aura around us. You were sharing your powers.” Cisco piped up, eyes furrowed and strolled over to Caitlin to take the marker from her hand and continue the work. “Time is tricky though. It seems she would get 55 milliseconds of our time. Do you think it will be enough time for her to double?”

“I don’t know. It’s risky, Cisco. Can’t you just make some kind of tech?” Barry questioned.

He shook his head, “It’d take too much time and we don’t know how long we would have. DeVoe may not be in action right now nor does it look like it will be soon, we don’t know when he could strike. He could come now and we won’t be prepared. If you guys go train quickly, we could do this. If it doesn’t work then we’ll figure something else out.”

“Wait,” you interrupted them. “What if I don’t want to do any of that? It’s risky as hell. We have no idea if that’ll even work. We have 55 milliseconds and that’s it. How do we know once that time is up, the double will disappear?”

“It’s worth a shot, Y/N.” Cisco snapped back.

“Oh yeah? Like you care.” you spat angrily. For a quick second, your eyes flashed a different color going unnoticed by all except Caitlin. 

“Okay, what happened between you two? One minute you guys are best friends and now you can barely stand to look at each other.” Iris asked.

“Ask him. Let’s go, Barry. It’s worth a shot, I guess.” 

You squirmed uncomfortably in the S.T.A.R. Labs shirt that was too tight on you having only a smaller sized shirt laying around and you did not want to ruin your shirt that you were wearing but this was all they had. Barry had you stretch before doing this, wanting you to not hurt yourself and you obliged as long as he did it with you because you didn’t want to look dumb if others came in.

“You know, you could’ve just worn your tank top for this.” Barry lunged forward, stretching out his legs.

You rolled your eyes, “That tank top is the only one I have at the moment and I’ve barely had any time to go shopping. My tank top is my number one piece of material that is something I don’t want gone right now.”

Barry laughed, sitting up right and shaking his head bringing you to giggle a little as well but it quickly went away when you saw Cisco enter. He didn’t say anything, just stood in the entryway observing and you felt uncomfortable with his eyes directed at you. Was he regretting what he said last night? 

“Ready?” you gave him a slight nod. Barry laid his hand on your shoulder and what everyone thought would happen didn’t. You felt your body fly through the air twist and turn before coming into contact with the wall causing blackness to take over you. 

~

"Hey, is she okay?" Barry asked as he came into the room you were in getting assistance from Caitlin. Everyone was alerted when you went flying into the wall from Barry's powers and Caitlin got you into the room fast to take a look at the damage. 

Caitlin nodded, "She should be fine. She may wake up with a mild headache but she should be waking up any time." 

"I don't know what happened, Cait. One minute she was next to me and the next, she was on the floor after hitting the wall. It's like-"

"Lightning versus lightning? I took a blood sample from Y/N and started looking into it. Barry, she has traces of dark matter in her system." Barry pushed himself off the wall unconsciously and stared at her with wide eyes, clearly astounded by the news he received. "I don't know how or why they're just now showing but she's definitely something. Earlier when she snapped at Cisco, her eyes turned a different color, a darker abnormal blue. It was barely noticeable but I caught it."

"Do you think she knows?"

"No, she would've told us."

A groan caught their attention on the topic and they turned their head to look at you who was squinting from the light. Your head throbbed in the center of your forehead and you felt an ache all over your body. All you remember was Barry and you stretching and you blacked out. Caitlin came into view with a gentle smile and a 'welcome back' escaping her lips. 

"What happened?" you questioned, sitting up steadily not wanting to make your head hurt worse from sitting up too fast. You noticed the IV in your arm, letting a liquid into your body and you almost straight away ripped it out from your skin. 

Caitlin winced for you at the sudden action, "Erm, Barry and you were about to begin training but Barry's powers harmed you. Y/N, you have traces of dark matter in your system. Your powers were defensive and fought against Barry's causing you to be thrown into the wall." 

You were taken aback by this and shook your head, completely in denial. "No, no, Caitlin. There must be some  kind of mistake. I can't have powers. I-I'm a nobody. I'm-oh my god, my mom. My mom tried to tell me." 

"Wait, you knew?" Barry asked. 

"Before the particle accelerator exploded, I visited my mom in rehab. She had just been put in there, coming off of heavy drugs and she kept telling me, 'Something bad is going to happen, Y/N. I can feel it.' I kept telling her this was the drugs talking. She continued, dismissing what I said, 'Y/N, it's about time you knew about your powers. About what you are capable of' I told her she was crazy and I left. I haven't seen her since." you let your eyes flutter closed and inhaled deeply. "She was a drug addict and that was her 6th time being there. I was done and I told her I didn't want to see her again. I was so dead set on not believing her, I pushed it in the back of my mind and I forgot about it." 

"So you knew about your powers and didn't think to tell anyone? At all?" Cisco made an appearance from the Cortex, undoubtedly furious about this and he made sure you knew as he raised his voice mid way through his sentence. You flinched from the loud noise.

"Cisco-" Caitlin started but she was cut off swiftly as he ignored her.

"I can't believe you. I can't believe this at all. You turned into something, I don't even know. You're not my best friend." 

"I used to be until you made me fall in love with you. I used to be before neither of us let our lustful selves get the best of us. We used to before you dated Cynthia and left me! You left me, Cisco. " your eyes began to flash a blue that had a shine to it and a spark came from your fingertips. You couldn't hold it in any longer, there was so much anger inside you that you couldn't contain. "I'm so tired of being a second choice to you. You confessed your love to me and then poof! You were gone just like that. Why? You were scared. Cynthia didn't find out from me, she found out from you. You told her because you felt compelled to. You knew coming clean could have shown her how much you cared about her and she would come back!" 

"Y/N, wait, stop!" the electricity coursing through your veins let a lightning struck near Caitlin causing Barry to panic and ran with Caitlin and Cisco far from the lab. Your powers got the best of you and you felt it take over. It was easy and simple, it was so powerful not to pass it up. You let it take your hand and show you a way through, it felt as if these powers created a different side of you. This is what your mother was talking about. The dark matter from the particle accelerator changed your cells, it duplicated them and created another side of you. It was coming out and you felt the anger coming from it. 

You let it take over and it all went black. 

[atlasburdenedarchive]

day one .

she watches him leave , speechless in a new kind of way  . he’s asked for his space and she’ll give it to him , despite every bone in her body yelling at her to follow him. convince him to stay with them , with grog , with her . percy and vex storm out , she understands . she tries , she tries to catch grog before he leaves because she knows how hurt her brother is , even if no one else does . she looks to vax for answers she knows she won’t find, a hurt she doesn’t quite understand forcing tears to her eyes and a guilt in the pit of her stomach that no matter how hard she tries , she can’t fill with alcohol . she waits until they’ve drunk all their bodies could physically handle . until their matching fun buns make their way slowly back to the castle in an uncanny silence that she hates and she deposits vax on the nearest soft surface and collapses next to him once her armor is off. her head and the room are spinning as she stares at the ceiling of one of many drawing rooms at castle whitestone and she grabs her earring to activate it .  

scanlan . i know you can’t hear me. you’re gone …. with kaylie . which is good . she needs a dad . you’re gonna be such a good dad . i’ve always known that . even before she came along . you’ve got such a big heart and you don’t want anyone to see it … i see it . grog sees it . vax sees it. vex and percy and keyleth , they know how much - how big - how you love them . i know that you needed to leave . i don’t get it but i understand it you know ? we shouldn’t have done that while you were … percy and i … it was wrong of me to do that in front of kaylie after you trusted me with her . i know that now and when you come home i’ll apologize proper . swear on sarenrae . vax snores abruptly and she stops , smiling at him softly as tears she hadn’t even noticed roll down her cheeks .  i don’t regret asking kaylie to help us bring you back because … we might not have been able to get you back at all & having you alive and gone for a while is a trade i will always be willing to make if the alternative is …  well, anyway …  she pauses again, a heavy weight on her chest that even now she knows isn’t due to the alcohol . i miss you already. she falls asleep on vax & if any of vox machina was sober enough to hear her , they don’t tell her .

day two .

allura asks her to go to emon and she doesn’t hesitate . guilt compounding on her heart because it knows before she does that she won’t be able to be there for keyleth . until she meets taryon & it’s almost like they’ve replaced scanlan already & she just … she just can’t . vex tells her that she doesn’t always have to be so strong & for the first time she tells someone besides scanlan the truth : of course she does . if she’s not strong , if she doesn’t have a stiff upper lip she’d never be able to watch them walk away . she’d never be able to bring them back over because seeing them , lifeless in front of her is only half the pain & guilt of not being there to save them in the first place .

day nine .

vax died today. he died for keyleth and neither of us were there. i want to be so mad at you scanlan, and i’m trying so hard not to be. they need you. they need you more than you know. not because you can heal them or because you can house them . they need you . we love you .

day ten .

i miss you . not because everyone is gone . not because i’m lonely & i miss everyone . i just … miss you & not knowing that you and kaylie are safe is driving me crazy .

day seventeen .

scanlan? i know you can’t hear, but i’m sitting in a tavern right now with grog; he just went to sleep . i had a pretty good day . i had to do a lot of labor; just lifting stuff into a cart . and then , you know , vox machina, lo and behold, come home and i see them and now we’re here . but we miss you . i’m going to– I’m very tired .

day seventy-two .

i hope you’re safe .

day eighty-seven .

grog misses you & he’s looking for you , vax is looking for you … we’re all looking for you . we just want to know you’re safe , scanlan .

day one-hundred and seventy-five .

she’s tired of talking to a man she knows can’t hear her , who clearly doesn’t want to be found , but she still implores her god to watch over him and his daughter every night she prays .

day two-hundred and sixteen .

i have to tell you something . she says quietly to her empty room in grayskull keep . the keep is full of people who’s homes were destroyed in the siege , who can’t afford to rebuild just yet . it had been stupid to think that she’d show up & he’d be there .  it was vex . who i had feelings for - who i had my heart . did . i do love her still . i don’t know that i could ever stop , she’s a part of this family that we have and she’s a huge part of my life . my feelings are part of the reason i went to sea . i couldn’t be around everyone & not tell her because if i did & she didn’t feel the same way i’m not sure i’d have been able to stay anyway . & i think i knew … that she and percy would … well , that’s not the point . the point is that there wasn’t anything wrong with you scanlan , you should know that . sure , you came on a little strong but you were never mean about being rejected & so many people would have been . you just loved me & i couldn’t … i couldn’t take all of the feelings you had for me while i still had feelings for her . especially after you gave me that beautiful note & opened your heart to me so fully . you did propose to me , though , in front of everyone . even though i think you knew i’d say no . 

day two-hundred and eighty-eight .

she’s on a beach in marquet at dawn , small feet buried in the sand as sits with her knees to her chest , arms wrapped around them . there’s a quiet breeze that plays with the loose tendrils of her recently dyed hair as she watches the waves crash on the shore before her , the water barely coming up to kiss the top of her feet . the sun creeps it’s way slowly across the horizon and it doesn’t seem fair to enjoy it without scanlan . tary is amazing , they all love him . he’s no scanlan and thankfully never tries to be . she takes her earring out and clenches it in her hand as if it would still work . he can’t hear her either way . hi , scanlan , we’re on vacation ! in the bay of gifts ! i don’t think … we ever got to go on vacation before you left . too many dragons . too many vampires . i like us relaxed , i think you’d like us relaxed . we’ve … done such good things this year . we’ve all done … such good things , despite missing you . i can’t wait for you to see slayer’s cake . we named some cookies after you . they’re ok . i can’t wait for you to meet taryon . i can’t wait for you to see how happy vax is , it’ll blow your mind . percy and vex are , of course , a power couple . grog and i kicked most everyone’s ass in vasselheim . keyleth is … such an amazing leader . of course she is . i wish you could hear me . i wish you were here . there’s a small sound behind her & she looks up to find keyleth , sleep still on her features and not a small amount of worry as she watches her sheepishly . pike smiles , holding her hand out for keyleth to join her & she’s grateful that she gets to enjoy this beautiful sunrise tucked into kiki’s side without the questions she knows she wants to ask .

day three-hundred and eight .

i met my family this week . well , they’re not really my family , honestly . vox machina is my family . grog & wilhand are my family . you are my family . they made my doubt myself but i … i opened up , you know ? i thought that they could be different , that they could be proud of me & that i could change them  & they just wanted my money . i opened my heart & i trusted them & they … they wrecked me . i - you could destroy me . i could open up my heart & i could trust you & you could destroy me , scanlan , more than they did . that’s not fair to you but it’s true & i would just - never recover from that . you mean so much to me & your friendship means so much to me but you confuse me . you kind of – you – make me feel like i’m standing on the edge of a cliff & i want to jump . you have no idea how often i want to jump with you scanlan . something always holds me back though , something that fears the way that i can’t always read you for what you actually mean or say . the thought of hurting you , of getting hurt , of ruining what we have , of ruining vox machina is so much scarier than facing vampires & necromancers & five dragons . because i can’t live up to an ideal . no one can live up to a fantasy .... by the way that cliff metaphor is kind of fucked up because keyleth ... well , the only person who could kill keyleth killed keyleth . i miss you .

day three-hundred and fourteen .

as soon as the half-orc calls his boss the meat man , the tension rolling off of grog only fuels the anger that’s sparking in her heart . they go through this farce . they meet ‘ aes adon ‘ . scanlan doesn’t even have the dignity to show them his real face . to face grog . to face her . & she thinks maybe she built it up in her head a little bit because she’s thought about seeing scanlan a lot ( more than she’ll admit ) over the past three hundred and fourteen days . she’s thought about the relief she’d feel once she knew he was ok . she’s thought about … well, it doesn’t matter what she’s thought about because he hadn’t been planning on staying after he’d given them the information about the ziggurat and/or gotten the plans for a fucking gun from percy . her fingers curl into small fists at her side and when tary leaves , she so desperately wants to follow him out , despite vex’s small plea . despite the hurt on scanlan’s face . she finds herself unable to keep quiet as he speaks , petty asides thrown at him that she doesn’t truly mean but only make her angrier . at him . at herself . when percy breaks the seal she takes the opportunity to leave as quickly as she can because she can’t stand it anymore , especially not when the twins are so clearly ready to forgive him . she and grog do what they do best , they drink their feelings ( whatever they might be ) & fight chod  / lionel / scanlan’s new … whatever he is . she knows lionel doesn’t deserve her anger , he doesn’t deserve grog’s anger . the punch to the half-orc who has been nothing but nice to them , feels a lot worse than she thought it would . vax and vex find her before she can catch up to grog , her anger as entwined with his as anyone , and she tries . she tries so hard to convince them she’s fine . it’s a lot harder this time . she hasn’t had to in so long . they are too perceptive for their own good but they let her leave anyway & that means more than they know . 

she doesn’t want to open the door , doesn’t know if she can see him again so soon but when she does , she definitely doesn’t expect to hit him . it doesn’t make her feel better . cussing him out doesn’t make her feel better . apologizing like she promised she would all those nights ago doesn’t feel like a real apology . she listens to him & some part of her is happy for him . so very happy that he & kaylie have what most of vox machina has never had with their own fathers . it’s all she’s wanted , to be honest . all she’s prayed for when she prays for them . & she can feel herself soften . he’s different , she notes as he apologizes for ogling her , for hurting her , for meeting her at the wrong time . she doesn’t deserve the apology , owes him one at this point if she’s being honest . will owe him until she & grog talk & she finds out where he stands . perhaps we’ll meet again in different circumstances . she lays in grog’s bed later that night listening to him snore , they hadn’t talked . she’d just climbed into his bed like she’d done when they were younger . she can’t help but hear the echoes of her own words replaying themselves in her head . no one can live up to a fantasy . scanlan is not the ghost that she’s spilled her secrets to under the cover of night . he’s not the same person who’d taken all of their flaws and thrown them in their faces . he’s not the same man who got kaylie’s mother pregnant without knowing . he’s trying his best to be true to himself , just like she is . just like they all are . different circumstances feel an awful lot like a second chance to do things right , to do them better . it doesn’t mean she’s ready to forgive , despite the nagging at the back of hear head . she already knows what she’ll find when she finally acknowledges the anger she is clinging to : the confusing feelings scanlan has always made her face whether he knows it or not , whether she wants to or not .

[moonshroooms]

Heard just under the din of typical city traffic and the footsteps of the public was the sound of sharp metal stabbing into the grooves of worn-down brick, clumps of stone cracking and falling away as the appendages ripped away from the wall. Zim cursed fervently under his breath, mind barely focusing on the placement of his PAK legs as he scrambled his way up the structure, expertly avoiding stabbing through glass windows from many years of practice.

  The shadow of the building gave way to the blinding orange of sunset as he reached the rooftop. A horrible mixture of relief and fear stabbed through him at spotting the figure at the roof’s edge. It wasn’t the first time the alien had seen this exact image. He’d seen it on a thousand different days on a thousand different rooftops. As horrible as the image was, reaching the top of his frantic climb only to find it empty was always so much worse.

  Frustration boiled its way through the alien’s blood and he clenched his teeth hard enough to hurt his jaw. “For fuck’s sake,” Zim started forward, whispering curses under hushed breath. “Don’t you dare, you Dib-beast, don’t you fucking dare!”

Long-tempered muscles tensed as Dib shifted, fully expecting that resolute step forward, but the ragged human turned around instead. Zim’s narrowed gaze widened in surprise. He hadn’t expected Dib to have heard him arrive. It wasn’t uncommon for the human to be in a numbly drunken stupor by this point, senses as dead to the world as he aimed to do to the rest of him.

  Dib’s lanky body swayed unevenly as he turned around and Zim thought he might just fall back from lack of balance. Amber eyes focused on the small green form, just barely holding back from spilling over, puffy and bloodshot. Was that from drinking, crying, or not sleeping, Zim wondered. Or perhaps some pitiful combination of the three?

  “… You came.”

  At the break of silence Zim’s expression wrinkled, antennae flattening in his confusion. “Huh?”

  Dib swallowed harshly, words bobbing in his throat. “You came. I- you…”

  Zim could only stare dumbly for a moment, the gears in his mind clanking with effort as he processed the half-sentence. “That’s- why on Irk… Of course I did!” Zim snapped. His voice quickly rose as he found his words again. “I’m always saving your sorry human ass from its own stupidity! How many times until you finally get it? The only way you’re allowed to die is by Zim!”

  Zim did his best to recapture his theatrical voice, the bombastic show of threat and villainy. But after the difficulty he had in finding the human tonight, the surety in his voice cracked and wavered. He only hoped Dib was too drunk to notice.

  Dib regarded the alien for a moment, mind slowly filtering each word. The hand at his side clenched and unclenched the empty bottle in his grip. The end of it had been downed long ago, but holding it was a familiar sort of feeling, so he kept it. The wind lightly pushed against his back, the tips of his trench coat flapping against his leg. “Yeah that’s what… yeah. I remember.”

  Dib craned his neck around to stare at the sidewalk far below. Though a few people walked back and forth along the dirty concrete most of the activity going on was going-home traffic. Over-packed streets and angry honking made up most of the background noise. The human’s gaze quickly found that one spot he’d been staring at for the past who-knows how long. The spot he imagined he would land, the boring grays of city life suddenly disturbed and swathed in red. He frowned.

  “No use in trying that with you here,” he said with a resigned sigh, shuffling ungracefully to sit at the roof’s edge. The bottle in his hand falls from his grip, landing against the hard roof with a clatter.

  Zim stayed still for a moment longer before hesitantly creeping forward. “Yes, exactly,” he said carefully. “Zim is not allowing that… stupidness tonight.”

  The human nodded, bringing his chin forward to rest on his knee, a mumbled “yeah,” falling past cracked lips.

  Zim titled his head, brow furrowing in confusion as he came to sit uneasily next to Dib. “You were… expecting Zim?”

  Dib tore his gaze from the quickly purpling sky, sun having long said its goodbye for the day, to glance at the alien. “You… always, always come. It took you longer today. I almost thought-” a swallow “-thought you wouldn’t. You wouldn’t come anymore.”

  Zim’s throat tightened as guilt began to take hold of his limbs and he found his chest uncomfortably tight. “I was trying to!” He quickly yelled. “You didn’t come home, you knocked down my drone, I couldn’t find you anywhere- Didn’t know where you had gone! I forgot my disguise at base, had to walk around in the shadows! You don’t exactly make any of this easy!” The Irken’s voice climbed higher and higher in pitch as he went on, explanations tumbling from his mouth, hoping one of them – any of them – would be enough.

  Dib meanwhile had begun chewing on his lip as Zim’s words fell out, wincing as his canine reopened the split he had at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, I… well, I don’t,” he agreed, arms moving up to bury his face in. “I… I’m sorry.”

  The excuses and reasons building up in the back of Zim’s mind all collapsed. “You’re sorry?”

  Dib only nodded twice, looking up from the crook of his arm to watch the city’s yellow lights. Zim stared at the human’s expression, wishing there was something that could tell him what was going on in that big, stupid head of his. Preferably something Dib couldn’t find and tear from his skin. The human’s long lock of hair shifting caught Zim’s eye as a breeze rushed past. He wondered how long it would be before Dib came by in some other drunken haze, brandishing scissors and a cut hand, making Zim trim his ponytail cuz he’d somehow managed to fuck it up enough to hurt himself.

  An idea interrupted the alien’s thoughts and he clutched the hem of his uniform, ‘spooch pounding in his chest with a hopeful feeling. He focused on not letting it cloud his brain.

  “Did you know I was coming?” He twisted his face to the human. “Do you know I… do you remember?”

  Dib nodded slowly, thoughtfully. “I remember you always… always come. I don’t remember when I’m sober, but, yeah…”

  “If you wanted to see me you know where I live. You know I’m always home. You go there all the time!”

  Amber eyes flicked to the alien before looking away, down at the city below. Dib’s voice was… small. Shaky. “I wanted… I wanted you to come to me.”

  Compound eyes stared with intensity before Zim scoffed and leaned forward on his thighs. “You wanted to be a pain in my rear again, that’s what you wanted,” he grumbled. His annoyance was short-lived as he caught tears leaking back to Dib’s eyes.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t- I wasn’t trying to be a nuisance to you.”

  Regret instantly stabbed through Zim, palpable and painful, and his eyes widened. “No, nonono- I wasn’t, I didn’t mean to- UGH!” Zim’s claws fluttered around the human, movements stuttering as much as his words, before he threw them in the air and dropped his face in his palms. “Why are you earthlings so difficult,” he muttered for a moment and turned to look at Dib, forehead still held in his hands. “So, you really weren’t trying to be a nuisance tonight? That’s a new one.” He did his best to bring a playful half-grin to his face and hoped it looked convincing enough.

  Dib sighed, tears spilling over his cheeks, leaving behind clean streaks to his grimy skin. “I was just… I don’t know. I don’t know. I feel, just, so. Alone. All the time. Even when I’m surrounded by people. I can’t- I feel like I could never reach anyone.”

  Zim frowned. There were so many ways one could spin this particular tale, but in the end no matter how it was told it was always the same story he’d heard before. “Yes, I know. You save the world every day and nobody cares.” Zim waved his hand as he spoke. “You humans are all horrible, even to each other. Big surprise.”

  Despite his company’s flippant attitude, Dib continued. “But you… You’re always there. You come here to take over the planet – you’re the enemy of humanity – and I keep- keep trying to stop you at every turn yet… you’re the. The only one here. Now. With me.” Dib turned to the alien, eyes still glossy with tears and the haze of his drink. “You wanna kill us all but… you won’t let me die.”

  It was Zim who looked away this time. Pain struck in his gut as his squeedlyspooch clenched and he felt heat rise to his face as he was scrutinized. “I’m not letting you die by yourself,” he muttered. “I’m selfish and you know it. Either I kill you myself or you stay living and that’s that.”

  Dib leaned forward unconsciously, gaze steady and piercing despite his less-than-sober condition. “But you don’t have to. Don’t have to talk to me like you do. Don’t have t- You come here, s-sit beside me. Talk to me and… and tell me I’m worth something.”

  Zim balled his hands into fists, claws scratching against his leggings, fighting the blush lighting up his cheeks. “Of COURSE I have to tell you!” He spat out almost angrily. “Who else is gonna – all those miserable humans you keep trying to protect? The same ones that make your life so fucking unbearable that you want to jump off tall things all the time? Ha!” As he spoke his tone took a bitter edge and frustration grabbed hold of his limbs. Every inch of skin itched and pricked and he couldn’t sit idle for another second. He rose to his feet, arms flailing about in his ranting. “They don’t care. I may be selfish but they are blind. It doesn’t matter how many glorious fights you and I have under the open sky, they never see how hard you try, how marvelous your feats are! That’s not your fault, that’s never been your fault! And it IRKS me that they consider the biggest threat to my global domination to be less than the rats that squirm under the city streets! It’s a travesty! A crime! And it only makes me want to enslave them all even more!”

  Zim’s voice rung out, echoing and bouncing against the concrete buildings before falling under the roar of traffic. His chest heaved, running out of breath in his uproar. He glanced down at Dib, the human’s eyes huge and mouth slightly open in his stunned silence. Zim grumbled, rubbing his palm against his cheek in an attempt to bring down his blush. He sat back down next to Dib, backing facing the open streets. He wasn’t shouting now, voice quiet, but certainly no weaker than before.

  “When I finally take this planet, Dib, I’m making them all build a huge statue of you. I’ll force them to build it from diamond. Or some other stupidly expensive material. And I’ll tell them how you’ve been stopping me for decades and how none of them could halt their meaningless lives for one second to help you. And they will cry sorrowful tears and beg your statue for forgiveness, but it will be too late then. I will have won.” Ruby eyes narrowed, staring up at the night sky. “And they will all be sorry.”

  A silence fell over the two then. A feeling both heavy and light stormed in Dib’s chest, feeling fit to burst within him. He stumbled over himself, trying to get his drink-addled mind to form thoughts, words, anything that could actually convey what he thought. But what would he say anyways? He wasn’t even sure he knew what he felt himself, wasn’t sure it even had a name. All he knew was that it was there and unignorable and he both wanted it gone and wanted to hold it close. A double-edged sword of pain and relief.

  Dib looked down at the streets below and found it a little bit harder to find that spot he’d been staring at before.

  “You,” Dib started, breaking the silence that had fallen between them. “You’ve been trying to take over for so long now. H- How long’sit been? Over ten years?”

  Zim only nodded, antenna pressed flat against his head as he scowled at nothing.

  “Why won’t you… why don’t you kill me when I’m- when I’m like this? Weak. And drunk. I’d- you’d win so easily. You’d have your victory over Earth in no time. Y- Your Talles-”

  “Don’t.” Zim cut in, shuddering as he clenched his eyes shut.

  “-Your Tallest.” Dib repeated, determined to speak his thoughts. “How are they not tired of waiting? I could just… if you just left me- let me go I… you’d win. You’d win and they’d be proud of you.”

  Dib looked down at the city, headlights and store lights and streetlamps all glowing against the darkness, reflecting the lens of his glasses. He found that spot again.

  “All you’d have to do is push me… if you wanted. It’d be your doing. It’d all be you…” Dib jumped as he felt a cold pressure tap his shoulder. He turned to see one of Zim’s PAK legs gripping his shoulder – not sharp enough to hurt, but firm enough that Dib would have to work to shake it off. His brows furrowed as he quirked them at Zim.

  The alien glanced away, not removing the mechanical limb, his voice just barely a whisper. “Just making sure.”

  Zim watched Dib from the corner of his eye, the human only blinking owlishly at him. Then, after tearing his gaze away to look back down the ground, the human reached his far hand up, shaking all the while, and curled his fingers around the limb. Zim was sure he was on fire as Dib tightened his grip and held his hand there. He eyed Dib’s other hand flat against the rooftop without turning his head. The alien’s pinky crept forward, reaching out to touch, falling only just short of connecting their fingers. He both willed up the courage to move closer and squashed it down just as harsh.

  “The… city lights,” Zim said, antenna shivering as a wind blows. He turned as he gestured at the waking nightlife. “They’re kinda pretty at night.”

  “Hm?” Dib frowned, looking up and away from the sidewalk at the landscape further out. “Oh, yeah… I guess.” He leans back against one hand, bringing his eyes up to the sky above them. “I like the stars better, honestly.”

  Zim smiled, a ghost of a chuckle breathing out from him. “I know you do.” He craned his neck back to look at the sky. Dark blue and empty as a sky never should be. The brightest star quickly revealed itself to be a plane soaring against the vacant expanse. “You can’t see many from here. The light and smog from the city dim them too much.”

  Dib’s only response was a small “mm.”

  The alien shuffled slightly, leaning forward against his knees, placing his chin in his hands. “You know that little hill overlooking the city? The one near the forest? You can see the stars so much better from there,” he said a little wistful.

  A nod. “Yeah, I remember.”

  Zim turned to look at the human, pressing. “The grass is nice… soft too. Wanna go… lay there for a while?”

  A sigh, a frown. “Don’t think I can walk all the way there. Sure as hell can’t drive now.”

  Zim rolled his eyes. His human could be so stupid sometimes – most of the time. “Want me to take you there?”

  Dib’s frown turned into a pout, not turning away as his gaze flickered to Zim for a moment. Had he risked speaking the alien might’ve heard the waver in his voice. “Mm-hmm.”

  Zim gave a sigh, standing with a stretch. “Alright, hold on tight,” was the only warning he gave. Metal wires gave a quiet vvp noise as they extended from his PAK, gently wrapping around Dib’s middle. The human only wordlessly gripped onto the appendage as he’s lifted carefully into the air, thumb running across the smooth metal. Zim’s arachnoid legs unfurled from him, lifting the two of them easily as he expertly climbed down the building. In no time at all the two were off, leaving hardly a ghost of their presence on the roof. The only mark of their existence left behind was one lone, empty bottle.

————————————————————

Hello! *chokes and dies from anxiety*

So @reynaruina​ has an absolutely painful fantabulous Invader Zim/ZADR AU that she writes little blurbs for and I was absolutely possessed with the need to write a fleshed-out version of one of them, specifically this one. So! SDFSLKDJFLSDKJ HEre you go!!!

Also!! If YOU enjoy being emotionally stabbed in the chest I highly recommend you go eat ALL of the posts she has on this AU! Go! Shoo!

[miss-pearlescent]

Vampire vs Slayer (M)

Themes: vampires, make-up sex, mild angst, max fluff (ʘ‿ʘ✿)

ANN

“Oh my god, you’re a vampire.” Baekhyun’s face went white while mine went red. “You’re one of them.”

Kai’s arm came possessively around my waist and I felt a deep chuckle bubble from his chest. “And?”

If I turned around, I knew I would see Kai baring his fangs like the territorial man he was.

Shit, shit, shit!

I held out my arms as if I could hold my vampire ex-boyfriend back from attacking Baekhyun who was pointing a huge ass gun at the both of us.

Okay, time to diffuse the situation.

“Baekhyun,” I bit out. “Leave us. I will meet you back at headquarters tomorrow.”

I turned around, not caring about Baekhyun’s response. Looking up, I could see Kai’s eyes were a pitch black with bright red swirling in the depths. I put a hand on his chest.

“Kai?” My tongue felt heavy with everything that had happened in the last half hour. “Let’s go home?”

That caught his attention. He looked down with concern in his eyes, the angry red suddenly gone, replaced by a dark brown that I had come to love in the last year.

Jeez, how did I get in this situation?

A familiar click and whistle pierced my thoughts and I shoved Kai back, reaching out to deflect the numbing dart that I knew was directed at us. My arm stung for a second as I swatted the dart away and I wanted to turn around to glare at Baekhyun.

But I knew I only had moments before Kai was going to rip the man’s throat out.

I grabbed my ex by the front of his shirt with my good hand. Kai was already snarling, his fangs extending to long points that should not have been a turn on but honestly...

Maybe all this vampire slaying messed with my brain.

“He’s going to die,” Kai hissed.

I pushed him back, holding my bad arm close to my side. The numbing was traveling up to my elbow and it was growing heavier by the minute. I didn’t want to stay here with two volatile men and a useless arm. “He’s not worth it. Let’s go home.”

“He tried to hurt you.” Kai’s fists clenched and unclenched. “I’m going to kill him.”

I sighed, tired of dealing with irrational men today. “He was trying to hurt you, not me. He’s new and has a poor shot.” I pressed my palm against Kai’s chest again. “Kai, look at me.”

He just growled.

I wrapped my arm around his neck, pulling him down to my level. “Kai, I’m tired and my arm is hurt.” He blinked and focused on me. That got his attention. I almost preened with how much I knew him. “Take me home?”

Suddenly the world shifted and I found myself in Kai’s arms.

He shot a glare at Baekhyun who looked like a deer caught in headlights. “Work on your shot before I find you again.”

And then Kai jumped off the roof—scaring the shit out of me—and landed on another one.

From roof to roof, we headed into the suburbs, back to the home that my vampire ex and I had made for ourselves a year ago.

-

KAI

It didn’t occur to him till they were standing in front of their bed that he didn’t want to let her go. Ann belonged in his arms, nestled and protected from all the bullshit out there.

But she was a vampire slayer, working with the government to eradicated the state free of all vampires.

With a mental sigh, he set her down on her side of the bed and pulled the blanket up to her chest. There, he saw the necklace.

He growled, not caring about hiding his fangs anymore. “Is that why you stink?”

A flash of hurt crossed her gaze and he immediately shut his mouth. He turned around and ran a hand through his hair, glaring out the window at the world that put them in this situation.

He heard her stirring in bed, and suddenly her sweet scent broke through his sour mood. Gone was the bitter sting of garlic that tinged the air. Replacing it was a fresh breath of mild wildflower and vanilla and...

The love of his life.

Fuck. he was going to lose it.

“The necklace is off,” she murmured behind him, and he heard the clink of the charmed necklace as she threw it to the ground across the room. Thankfully, the putrid charm could only be activated when it came in contact with human skin. “Will you come here so we can talk?”

He turned back with his hands on his hips. She wanted to talk?

Now?

They had been dating for a year. If he was allowed to use superlatives in his long-ass lifetime, he’d say it was the best year of his life.

But six months ago? When he found out she was a vampire slayer, and she found out he was a vampire?

Things went to shit.

She didn’t want to talk then, and truthfully he didn’t either. So he left the home they had built together, because he had other places on this earth after living here for nearly a century. She was a human, and this was her only nest.

And now she wanted to talk?

Her eyes were red around the edges as she looked down at the bedding. Her voice was hoarse. “We bought a king sized bed so the two of us could fit comfortably in it.” When she looked up, his heart cracked. “Please don’t leave me alone in it again.”

His anger deflated.

He threw off his jacket and dumped it on its usual spot, the chair in the corner of the room. For a moment, he stopped in front of the bed, deciding if he should be on top of the covers or not.

Ann made that decision for him by throwing the covers back.

He climbed in beside her and she tucked the sheets around his shoulders, meticulously making sure every inch of him under his chin was covered.

She always said his skin felt cool to touch and she developed a habit of keeping him warm. Even after discovering he was a vampire, the habit didn’t die.

She tucked her hands to her chest and looked at him.

He watched her back.

He knew he needed to fix this. He couldn’t go back to the way he lived for the past few months, governing his people day in and day out in order to avoid the humans’ detection. He needed a break. He needed someone to talk to. Someone optimistic and innovative and caring.

Kai opened his mouth—

“Can I hug you?” Ann whispered.

He blinked and opened his arms. Of course she could. Why would she ever have to ask?

In an instant, she was back in his arms and Kai let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled into his chest. “I’m so so sorry.”

He kissed the top of her head, smoothing her hair as she trembled in his embrace.

As a vampire, Kai didn’t believe much in fate. If he did, he’d be pretty pissed all the time with the hand of cards that fate had dealt him as a vampire.

But deep down he knew he and Ann were fated to be together, labels be damned.

-

ANN

My head rested comfortably on his chest and my hand was fisted in his t-shirt, wrinkling the hell out of it.

But it felt right.

So finally, after what felt like an hour of moping in Kai’s arms, I began talking.

“I became a vampire slayer five year ago, fresh out of college.”

Kai made a thoughtful sound as his fingers absently brushed through my hair. “When your mother died?”

I shifted uncomfortably and basically held onto his shirt for dear life. I hated talking about my mother’s death, hated the way my brain shut down and my throat closed up.

But Kai deserved to know why I became the person I am today.

“The reports said her body was found in a park and at first everybody had thought it was a—” I cleared my throat, not wanting to imagine what my mother could’ve gone through. “An assault.”

Kai turned and cradled the back of my head, pressing small kisses to my forehead. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head. I needed to tell him.

“They said there was no blood,” I continued. “Not on the ground, not on her body, not in her body.”

I gulped down the lump in my throat. After reading through those reports, I spent weeks in bed, scared for my own life. I had moments where I was grateful that my mom had died after what had happened, because going through all that and living with the knowledge of it?

It was a nightmare.

“They found a huge scab on her neck. When they peeled it back, there were two puncture marks.”

Kai’s chest seemed to be shaking, or maybe that was just me.

“I became really angry after that. And I told myself that all vampires needed to die because of what one did to my mom.” I looked up apologetically. “I’m sorry for what I did.”

Because I had killed people. Innocent people who were like Kai.

People who were kind and brave and selfless and dedicated so much time to the person they loved. People who were trying to live a happy life but happened to be vampires.

Kai pulled me closer and then I realized my tears were falling like crazy, soaking his shirt. I tried to wipe them away, but my hands were trapped between us and one of my arms was still testy from the earlier sting.

Kai let me cry, let me sob at the loss of my mother and the loss of him.

I hadn’t had time to dwell when he left because for some reason, my brain told me I could make it through on my own.

I did, but it was miserable now that I thought back on it.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Kai’s voice was low and I could barely hear it over my erratic breaths.

I pulled away from him and wiped at my eyes, wanting to sober up so I could tell him the rest.

It took a minute because every time I looked at him again, he did not look at me with any hatred despite the fact I was his natural enemy. His eyes only held love.

That was why I knew my project for the last couple of months was worth it.

“When you left, I had a lot of questions.”

The corner of his lip kicked up.

I blinked, knowing he had something to say. “What?”

“You always have a lot of questions.”

I rolled my eyes and laughed, leaning on his chest again to get comfortable. “I do,” I agreed. “But I wanted to know why you hadn’t bitten me yet.”

This time, he was the one who barked out a laugh.

But he didn’t say anything.

“Anyway,” I continued on. “I looked into it, and remember that scab they found on my mom’s neck? Turns out it’s some sort of disease.”

Kai made an interested-but-not-interested noise.

My eyes widened. “You knew about this?”

He kissed my fingertips for some reason. “Of course. Vampires don’t like to kill humans or else we’d have the cops on our asses all the time.”

“So it’s true that the vampire who killed my mother was sick at the time?” That didn’t change the fact that he had killed my mom, but it forced me to change the way I thought about the vampire.

He nodded. “We also don’t leave scabs behind on our victims.” With a grimace, he added, “we like to keep our jobs clean.”

Well, that opened up a lot more questions.

But I wanted Kai to know what I had done about my discovery.

“I learned that it was wrong to kill every vampire that I saw.”

He scoffed. “And dangerous,” he said.

I pursed my lips because I knew he was right. “That, too. But now we aren’t killing them.”

Kai chuckled. “What? Now you’re engaging in fist fights with their leaders and getting injured by your teammate in the process?” He held up my arm and inspected it. “Who was that kid anyway?”

“Just a trainee.” I pulled my arm away and flexed my fingers, ensuring him it was fine. “And no, I’ve convinced everyone to participate in the pilot project. We track down vampires who have killed humans and hit them with a stun gun like the one Baekhyun the trainee used. It immobilizes them enough to inject them with an antidote that my team developed.”

Kai’s ears perked up. “You have an antidote?”

I nodded. “Of course. What’s the point of finding this disease and doing nothing about it?”

Suddenly, Kai’s lips were on mine. A jolt of pleasure rang through me and I almost melted into the bed. I hadn’t felt like this in forever.

Too soon, he pulled away. “Sorry,” he muttered and ran a hand through his hair. “I want to marry you right now.”

M-marry me?

Well, if he was being honest...

“Me too,” I blurted out. “I mean, you. Like, marry you.”

He broke into a grin, and I copied him because I couldn’t resist him.

He kissed me again. “We’ve been trying to find a cure for the disease forever. It’s painful for the host, makes them crazed and out of their minds. The results are also bad for the rest of the community.”

My brain was rattled because Kai’s hands were pulling up my shirt. “I’ll bring it to you guys. It’s a simple injection but it still takes a few days to work—” I broke off into a moan when he expertly found the clasp to my bra.

“I missed this,” he said, pulling my top off and throwing it across the room. “I’ve miss you.”

I blushed because it had been a while and I felt a little shy to be quite honest. “Same here,” you confessed. “I haven’t had an orgasm since you left.”

Kai pulled back, his eyes wide. “What?”

-

KAI

He couldn’t believe it. His beautiful girlfriend had denied herself an orgasm for six months? He had jerked himself off at least once a week since he left her, though they were all unfulfilling.

He didn’t know jacking off could be unfulfilling until she was gone.

But the fact that she hadn’t had any? That needed to change.

Tonight.

Ann looked away and crossed her arms, her blush creeping to her chest. “Not that I haven’t tried,” she said with a pout. “My brain and body just didn’t want to cooperate. I’ve been busy with finding the disease and antidote that—”

She broke off with a squeak as he pushed her back flat on the bed.

“The Ann I know loves sex. Loves having orgasms. Loves coming...for me,” he said with a smirk. He could smell her arousal perfuming the air and leaned in to kiss the top of her breast. “Did you know that I could always smell how turned on you were?”

She groaned and squeezed her thighs shut. “Don’t say that.”

He unfastened the buttons to her pants and pulled them down, knowing her panties would be soaked already. It was a delight to see, but he needed those pink panties off to do what he needed to do.

“I’m going to try something,” he said, pulling her panties off slowly and watching her juices cling to the fabric. “You asked me why I never bit you.”

She nodded and pressed her fingers to her lips.

“It’s not because I didn’t want to.” He pushed her knees open and breathed in her sweet scent. He could feel his fangs pushing out and did not try to hold them back. He let them extend as far as they wanted. “I’ve wanted to taste you since the day I met you.”

She shuddered and swept her hair up so it fanned out over the pillows. “You can do it now.”

He smiled because of how precious she was. “Not there.” He licked his lips. “When we bite, our fangs inject a chemical that brings all your blood close to the puncture site.”

Her eyes widened and she let out a little gasp, following his train of thought.

He smirked. “Tonight, I want to give you the orgasm of your life.”

-

ANN

I almost came already.

And Kai must’ve known because he looked down with a cocky grin. “You like that idea, huh?”

I squirmed when he trailed a finger through my slit, spreading my wetness around so I was ready to take whatever he gave to me.

I remember the first time we had sex, how slow he made me go because he knew I was too tight for him. We fucked like rabbits after that so tightness was never an issue.

But now? After months of nothing?

I breathed to relax myself.

“Good girl,” he murmured naturally.

Oh god, he remembered how much I liked getting praised.

I watched him lean down, licking his huge fangs on the way. I wanted to watch, but I also could barely remember to breathe.

I stared at the ceiling instead and pressed one hand to my forehead. My other hand held his, because that’s just how I liked to be eaten out for some reason. He always made me come like crazy, and I liked to have something to hold me down because it got scary at times.

This time, I was worried I was going to pass out.

But I wasn’t worried that he was going to leave me.

I felt his kiss first on my inner thighs, traveling closer and closer but never touching where I wanted him. I angled my hips so that he would know I couldn’t wait much longer.

A light laugh, and then I felt something foreign rubbing against me.

I looked down and found him running his white fang up, down, and between my lips, coating me with a clear fluid that ran from his fangs.

He also watched me like a predator.

I didn’t know if it was whatever he was rubbing on me, or if it was his gaze, but I felt the pulsing between my legs build higher and higher. I whimpered, squeezing his hand, and raised my hips. I wanted something inside me. I wanted him inside me.

Kai squeezed my hand back. “You ready?”

I nodded fervently, watching his next move.

His arm locked around my hips and his tongue licked me gently. The languid sweeps still made my entire body shake, because I was so damn sensitive down there already. And he hadn’t even made it to my clit.

As if he heard me, he flicked my little nub with his tongue.

I almost came off the bed.

-

KAI

Good, she was nice and ready.

Kai pressed his tongue to the back of his fang, releasing the chemical that helped vampires drain their victims of blood.

He leaned in and gently nicked the side of her clit, injecting it just a drop of his fluid. Then he licked the barely-there wound clean.

“Oh my god,” Ann whimpered and her back arched. “Oh my god, oh my god.”

He watched her with pride, knowing his plan was working.

With amazing strength, she pulled at his hand, urging him to climb up her body.

“Kai,” she gasped.

He caressed her cheek, content to watch as she rode closer to her orgasm. “What is it?”

“Please, please, please bite me.”

He stopped and his eyes traveled to her neck, where a vein was making his mouth water. Hell, everything about Ann made his mouth water. “You want me to bite you?” he repeated.

She nodded. “Please. And I need you inside me.”

He wanted him to bite her and fuck her?

God, she was perfect for him.

“Now,” she pleaded, pulling at his hand. “Oh my god, now.”

Kai scrambled to position himself on top of her, gently angling her chin to the side. He held his cock in his hand, ready at her entrance.

He licked her skin, feeling her arms come around him in an embrace. Shakily, he scraped the spot on her neck.

He didn’t want to hurt her. He knew it wouldn’t, because he would make sure it felt good for her. But sometimes, a bite could be made to be extremely painful.

“Oh god, Kai, please. I’m going to come,” she breathed in his ear.

Forgetting all control, he pierced her neck and drove into her heat.

Her blood was the sweetest he had ever tasted and suddenly he knew all other blood was tainted for him.

And the way her pussy clenched around him as she finally reached her orgasm?

He would never be satisfied in any aspect of his life without her.

He drove into her without mercy, though he had to go slow for his own sanity. Everytime he pressed into her sensitive clit, she would come again and he would risk coming himself.

He took long drags of her blood, concentrating on her body to make sure she wasn’t going weak from blood loss or exhaustion. He gave her a little bit of his blood too. Not enough to make her a vampire, but enough to give her extra strength and heightened senses. The other vampire slayers were going to be jealous of that.

Her legs came around his hips and she rode him from underneath, pumping herself on his dick.

Shit, that extra strength must be taking effect quick.

He pulled his fangs out and licked her wound clean.

He watched her, his precious girlfriend who he wanted to make his lifelong mate. “I’m going to come inside you,” he warned.

She pressed her hands on his jaw and nodded. “Yes,” she breathed out.

That meant he could fuck her without holding back.

He threw her ankles over his shoulders, loving the way her eyes rolled back at the change in angle.

Then he pounded into her.

Her cries filled the air as she shook with every new orgasm. He held onto her hips, making sure he was hitting her sweet spot every time he entered her.

Suddenly, he was seeing white and felt his cock explode inside her. He shook with the intensity of his release and had to choke back his groan as he pressed her into the mattress.

He felt every muscle in her pussy milking him, pulling at his cock and making sure every last drop was spent.

He was panting when he found himself kissing her again. He made slow strokes in and out of her, wringing out the last few orgasms from her body.

She trembled underneath him. “If you keep doing that, I’m going to pass out.”

“Do you want to test that theory?” He pressed a finger to her clit and she gasped.

“Only if you promise you’ll stay this time.”

He gave his answer in a loving kiss. “I’m never leaving you again.”

She winked at him. “Then I give you permission to fuck me till I pass out, Mr. Vampire.”

---

A long author’s note: I’ve been wanting to do a vampire story for YEARS but didn’t know what to write about. And the only reason I wanted to do it was because I was inspired by a sex scene I read in Halfway to the Grave by Jeaniene Frost way back in 2014 involving a fang LOL I never continued with the series past the second book because I think there was a love triangle or something showing up, or maybe I got tired of the hero and heroine (who knows lol) but that sex scene really stuck in my mind.

Then a couple of days ago, I read Fire in His Veins by Ruby Dixon and I WAS IN LOVE. The first few lines of my story were inspired by a scene in hers uwu I love flirty men who have to suffer.

Anyway, there was supposed to be a whole scene before the beginning of this story with Baekhyun and Ann going into a vampire “lair” and finding Kai there but it’s dark and there was lots of people there so Ann doesn’t recognize him. Kai also doesn’t recognize her because she’s got that garlic charm necklace on (I’m sorry I didn’t elaborate on this necklace in the story) and he couldn’t pick out her scent. It’s only when they start fighting that he realizes it’s her. He goes “easy” on her and at one point she’s about to seriously hurt him when she gets close and realizes who he is and stops.

“Didn’t I tell you never to hesitate when going for a target?”

He “wins” the fight and Ann basically shuts down, hence her poor mood in the beginning of the story and Baekhyun’s panicked actions LOL

But I didn’t like that scene because I don’t like fight scenes and I also don’t know why Kai would ever tell her not to hesitate when going for a target if he didn’t know she was a vampire slayer.

Career target? IDK. And I also could not fit in Baekhyun’s first line about discovering that Kai is a vampire. Plot holes, yadda yadda yadda.

But yeah, I am well aware I also did not explain how they lived their separate vampire and vampire slayer lives in secret while also dating and living together for a year. I didn’t want to go into it because there was already a lot of explaining done for such a short story. I just wanted angst and makeup sex hehehe.

Let’s just say there are a lot of secrets in this world!

I hope you guys liked this story! And I want to write something for this panicky Baekhyun vampire slayer and a vampire girl, but I can’t promise I ever will LOOOL

Thank you all for reading ^^

[carryonsimoncarryonbaz]

11, please!

11: Which one of your OTP overdoes it on the alcohol and which one makes the other stop drinking?

1.

Baz

I believe Simon is now on a first-name basis with every denizen of this pub.

I’m also fairly certain every one of them has offered to buy him a drink. I’m absolutely positive he has taken far too many of them up on that offer.

Endless grin, disheveled hair, flushed face. Simon Snow is completely sozzled.

“Baz!”

“Yes, Snow?”

“Baz!”

“I’m right here, Snow.”

Snow wobbles onto the barstool next to me and sets his most recent refill of ale on the table so heavily that some of it sloshes out of the glass and onto the tabletop. He blinks at it regretfully, takes a long pull of the remaining ale and then turns to regard me again.

“Baz!”

Crowley, here we go again.

“Baz, Liverpool won!”

“Yes, Snow. So you’ve mentioned.”

He frowns and leans towards to me, gently swaying. “You called me Simon before.” He leans even closer to me, his scrunched nose almost touching mine.

Snow’s understanding of personal space is precarious even when he’s sober. It’s basically nonexistent when he’s drunk. I don’t mind that one bit. He’s now draped over me, chin resting on my shoulder, lips brushing my ear.

He raises his voice even louder than before. “Baz!”

Snow also loses all sense of volume control when he drinks. He’s literally a breath away from me but still feels the need to bellow.

“Baz!”

“Yes, Simon.”

“They’re all Liverpool fans. Every one of them.” He leans back to wave his glass genially at the other tables, managing to spill more of his drink as he does so.

This is not necessarily a bad thing. Less in the glass means less in Simon. He’s going to have a dreadful hangover tomorrow if I don’t cut him off soon.

He’s still chattering. Snow becomes far more talkative when he’s drinking, his words flowing freely, if somewhat repetitively.

“Baz!”

My point exactly.

“Baz, how’d you find this place? How’d you find a pub full of Liverpool fans, a pub showing the game, in fucking Chicago? I didn’t even know there’d be Liverpool fans here.”

Snow goes on about this remarkable example of globalization for quite some time.

We’ve been in town for a few days, visiting Bunce and her boyfriend. They had some family affair today, so Simon and I had some time to ourselves.

I had considered spending that time in the warm, luxurious privacy of our hotel room but Simon was up with the sun, as usual, and ready to explore more. As if Bunce hadn’t dragged us all over this freezing, windblown city already.

The wind here is ghastly. It almost made me regret not buying that ridiculous puffy coat Simon insisted I needed for this trip. Almost.

I couldn’t face walking along that frigid lakeshore today. It’s snowing. In April. It’s appalling. I truly don’t know how Bunce tolerates it.

I had done some investigating ahead of time. I know how Simon is about Liverpool this late in the season.

Simon would call it plotting but I prefer to call it research. It was easy enough to discover which pub was a favorite among expat Liverpool fans.  This one opened at seven this morning to televise the match live. We’ve been here since before nine.

It’s not even noon and Simon is completely inebriated. He’s still talking but I’ve lost the gist of this very one-sided conversation. He’s crossed his arms on the table, one elbow in the puddle of beer he spilled earlier, and his head is resting on his arms. Eyes half-closed, face still flushed, errant curls spilling onto his forehead. 

He takes my breath away.

I push the curls off his face, my fingers lingering to stroke through his hair. Simon closes his eyes and smiles.

“Baz.” Thank magic, he’s at the point of mumbling now rather than shouting.

“Yes, Simon.”

“Like it when you do that.”

“When I do what, love?”

“Mess with my hair.”

I keep my fingers running through his curls. I never want to stop.

“Baz.”

“Yes?”

“Thank you. This was ace.”

“You’re welcome, love.”

Simon’s eyes stay closed.

I pull my phone from my pocket and tap on the app for a car service to take us back to the hotel. Simon’s in no state to navigate public transportation and it’s too fucking cold for me to even consider it.

Looks like we’ll be getting that afternoon in the hotel room after all. Maybe Simon will have slept it off by the time we meet Bunce and Micah for dinner.

I run my fingers through his hair one more time.

“Come on, love. Time to go.”

Simon blinks up at me and sways as he gets to his feet. I reach for his hand but he just leans into me instead, arms wrapping around my waist. I slide an arm around him to steady him.

He’s asleep on my shoulder by the time the car pulls away from the curb.

2.

Simon

I’ve wiped down the kitchen counters. Washed all the dishes that were piled up in the sink. Folded and put away my clean laundry. I suppose I could sweep too but I don’t feel like it.

It might seem like I’m making a go of cleaning the flat but I’m moping. Actively moping.

Penny huffs at me from the sofa. “Just text him, Simon.”

“He said he wanted to be alone today. I’m respecting that, Penny.”

She rolls her eyes at me and goes back to her book.

I’ve wanted to text Baz since I woke up.

It’s August 12th.

Before this year I hadn’t really understood the significance of this date for Baz. I mean, I knew his mum had been killed and all, but I didn’t know the date or the details of it all.

Or who had orchestrated it.

Baz was home with his family every previous August and I was always languishing in some miserable care home, desperately waiting to be released to go to Watford. We were never in the same place.

But this year we’re both in London. He didn’t go home for it—he’d have been alone if he had anyway—the Grimms are visiting Daphne’s parents in the south of France for a few weeks. Baz was invited to accompany them—I was too—but he hadn’t wanted to be with Daphne’s family for this.

Understandably.

I’m not sure what I was expecting for today. I guess I wasn’t expecting he wouldn’t want to be with me either.

But I can understand that. It’s the first anniversary of her death where he actually knows what happened, knows she was murdered.

And knows who gave the order to do it.

Which is probably why he doesn’t want me around. I may not be the Mage’s Heir anymore but he was still my mentor for all those years. (actually, it seems I am the Mage’s heir, according to his lawyers) (They’re still trying to sort that out) (I’m not sure what it all means.)

Baz doesn’t sleep over at my place every night. With Fiona gone we’ve actually been spending some nights at his place. He’s got a nicer television.

Fiona’s an absolute terror when she’s home. She bangs on the bedroom wall and yells even if we’re just watching a movie in bed. Thinks she’s funny, she does. Makes me practically jump out of my skin, even when I’m not snogging Baz. That’s why we avoid his place most of the time. He’s been sleeping over here more often than not, now in the summer, since we don’t have classes.

But he didn’t sleep over last night.

He wanted to stay at home today, be on his own, is what he’d said. I thought he’d stay over and leave this morning but he’d gotten quiet when I mentioned it last night.

“You don’t have to stay,” I’d said. I didn’t want to press him on it. “It’s alright it you don’t want to.”

Baz had frowned at me. “It’s not that I don’t want to, Simon. I’d just rather be on my own tomorrow and I’ll likely not be good company. I should just go tonight, so I’m not a frightful grump at you in the morning.”

“You’re always a grump in the morning.” That had gotten him to indignantly deny it, but with a hint of a smile on his face. Baz did end up leaving soon after. Said he’d text me when he was ready to talk. I’d promised myself not to pester him.

It wasn’t even half-past ten and I already wanted to pester him.

Penny finally groans and tosses her book aside about an hour later. “Simon, I can’t take one more minute of you brooding. It’s one day. Surely you can survive one day without seeing Baz?”

I shrug.

I get a huff and an eye-roll this time. “Come on. Let’s go. We’re going out.” Penny shoves my shoulder and I shuffle out the door after her.

Penny knows me so well. She takes me to Borough Market, which is at least some distraction. Until I’m done eating, that is.

“Will you stop checking your phone? It will vibrate if he texts you, Simon. You know this.” Penny bats my hand and I shove my phone in my pocket before I drop it.

We wander down to Southwark Cathedral and then end up near the Bridge.

“He just wants some time alone today, Simon. It makes sense.” Penny pushes her glasses up and frowns at me. “I’m sure he’ll call or text you later tonight.”

“I know. I just hate the thought of him being alone. It’s the first year he knows what really happened… who really planned it …”

She doesn’t let me finish. “Simon. You can’t take on the guilt for that. The Mage made his own decisions and is the only one responsible for his actions.” Her finger pokes my chest. “It’s nothing to do with you.”

We’re almost to the station when I feel my phone vibrate. I yank it out of my pocket eagerly.

It isn’t Baz.

It’s Fiona, of all people.

FIONA: Are you with Baz?

ME: No. Why?

FIONA: Where the fuck is he?

ME: At his place. Why are you texting me?

FIONA: Why the fuck aren’t you with him? Don’t you know what today is?

ME: He said he wanted to be alone.

FIONA: AND YOU JUST LET HIM BE ALONE? Merlin and Morgana, Snow, I can’t believe I actually gave you credit for not being as thick as you look.

ME: Why are you texting me?

FIONA: Because Baz isn’t answering my calls or texts, you fucking nightmare. I thought for sure you’d be with him, so I thought I’d text you to tell him to FUCKING ANSWER ME.

ME: Oh.

FIONA: How’d he get you to shove off for the day? Aren’t you usually glued to his hip?

I frown at my phone. Fiona is an acquired taste. I haven’t quite acquired it yet. Baz says most people don’t ever manage to.

ME: He asked me to.

FIONA: Jesus Christ, Snow, you are an absolute pillock.

Fiona likes to swear like a normal. More so when she’s really pissed off.

FIONA: Do you have a key to his place?

I do actually but I’m not sure I want to tell her that. It’s her place too.

FIONA: Don’t you fucking stop answering, Snow. Are you going to answer my question? DO YOU HAVE A BLOODY KEY OR NOT?

ME: Yes.

FIONA: Yes, you have a key? This isn’t fucking twenty questions, Snow.

ME: Yes, I have a key.

FIONA: Get your arse over there and see what’s going on. I’ve been texting and calling him for the last hour and he’s not answering, the bloody wanker. And for the love of Merlin have him text me when you get over there.

ME: All right. I’ll head over there now.

FIONA: If one of you doesn’t text me in the next hour, Snow, I will literally set you on fire when I see you next.

ME: Ok, ok.

Lucky for me I’ve got my key fob in my pocket. “Penny, I’ve got to go to Baz’s.”

“Was that him then?” Penny looks puzzled. “You usually get this soft, sappy look when you text Baz. You looked more like you were going to throw up this time.”

“No, it was Fiona. She’s been texting him but he’s not answering. She’s blustering but I can tell she’s worried. I need to get over there.”

“Shall I come with you?”

“No, better not. Not sure what kind of mood he’ll be in when I get there. Better if I go alone. I’ll text if I need anything.”

“All right, Simon. Text me if you need backup.”

Baz is in a mood alright. A drunk mood. I’ve only seen him that way one other time. Fifth year in the Catacombs.

I’d burst into the flat, not sure what I would find.

What I found was Baz, bottle in hand, leaning against the living room sofa. His hair is tangled, falling into his face. He looks even paler than usual. The wanker must not have fed last night. No wonder he’s completely pissed.

Baz is a lightweight under normal circumstances—even one glass of red wine gets him completely legless if he hasn’t fed. I can’t imagine what this bottle of single malt has reduced him to.

Well I can. He’s a morose, incoherent mess. I’ve never heard him slur his words like this, not even back in fifth year.

“Baz. It’s me, Baz. Look at me. There you go.” I pull his face up and sweep his hair back. His pupils are huge, his grey eyes flat and lifeless.

“Shnow.” My name is garbled, Baz’s lips barely moving. The bottle in his hand waves erratically.

“Baz, give me the bottle now, alright?” I have to pry his fingers off the neck, managing to spill a little as I wrestle it away from him. At least it’s not empty. I’ve no idea how full it was when he started but there’s less than a third left now. I move to put it on the table across the room.

Baz makes a reaching motion when I move away. I’m back at his side immediately. I put my hands on his shoulders and lean close. “I’m going to get you a glass of water, ok? Don’t move, just stay here ‘til I get back, yeah?”

I fill a glass with water from the tap. I can feel my phone vibrating in my pocket. Fuck. It’s probably Fiona again. She can wait a minute.

I drop down on the floor next to Baz and he leans into me heavily. “Here you go, let’s have a little bit of water now.” I hold the glass to his lips and manage to get Baz to take a few sips.

I’m thoroughly regretting not letting Penny come with me. She’d be able to hit him with a spell or two to bring him round. I’m no help to him at all.

I coax the water in him, little by little. He slumps against me, head on my shoulder. I wrap an arm around him. “I’ve got you, love.”

His head unexpectedly comes up at my words and bangs into my chin. He shakes his head and I rub my chin. That stung.

“You’ve never called me that.” His voice is clearer. His focus is off but there’s an intensity to his gaze that wasn’t there a few moments ago. “You’ve never called me ‘love’ before.”

He’s right. I haven’t. That’s what he calls me. I adore it when he does. It makes me feel cherished and special and his.

I’m not as comfortable with endearments. Afraid I’ll sound like a right plonker, I guess. They just don’t come naturally to me, usually. But it did this time, just slipped right out. Didn’t even notice I’d said it.

I lean in and kiss Baz’s forehead. He smells like a distillery. I smooth his hair back and trace his cheekbone with my thumb. “Well there’s a first time for everything, isn’t there, love?”

Baz smiles and closes his eyes, his head dropping back on my shoulder. “I like it,” he mumbles. “Like it when you say that, Simon.”

“You should have called me, Baz. I hate the thought that you were sitting here all alone. I would have come.”

My phone is buzzing again and I continue to ignore it. Fiona is going to light me on fire but I don’t care. He’s ok and that’s all that matters. I’ll get to her later.

“Didn’t want to get all maudlin on you.”

“You know that wouldn’t matter to me.”

I can feel Baz’s breath on my neck. He’s tilted his head back, half on my shoulder and half resting against the sofa cushions. I tighten my arm around him. “You can be any way you want around me, Baz.”

“She’s not coming back.”

I don’t know what to say to that. It’s stark and true but not something he hasn’t known for awhile now. So I don’t say anything.

“She came through the Veil to find me. She couldn’t find me, Simon. She couldn’t find me because I wasn’t there. She came through for me—she didn’t go looking for my father or Fiona. Me. And I wasn’t there.”

I feel a chill wash over me that’s almost as frigid as it was the night Natasha Pitch appeared in our room. Of course he wasn’t there. He wasn’t there because the fucking Mage had him kidnapped.

All she found was me. The Mage’s Heir. Wasn’t that fucked up, when you stop to think about it?

“She’s not coming back, Simon.” I still don’t know what to say to him.

“She’s got no reason to, now. We figured it out. She’s been avenged. There’s no reason to come back next time.”

Oh shit. Fuck.I hadn’t thought of that. No wonder he’s a fucking mess. He probably hadn’t thought about that either.

We solved her murder. We avenged her death. She’s got no reason to linger anymore, no reason to come back through the Veil next time.

Fuck.

I’ve had some seriously conflicted emotions about the Mage, this past year. Part of me hates him for leaving me in the homes all those times, for lying to me about being the Chosen One, despises him for using me and manipulating me like that. For almost bringing the magickal world to the brink of war. For letting think I had to fight Baz to end it.

Part of me is grateful he found me and brought me to Watford, to the World of Mages. Without the Mage I wouldn’t have Penny, or Baz or Agatha, or any of the things that made my life better the last eight years.

My therapist says it’s normal to feel conflicted.

But I’m not conflicted now. I can be grateful that he found me and brought me to Watford and I can wholeheartedly hate him forever for what he’s done to Baz. And I do. I hate him for murdering Baz’s mum, hate him for causing Baz to be turned. I can’t forgive him for any of that.

But it truly enrages me that he took Baz’s one chance to see his mother again away from him. Because that’s what it was—his one chance. Natasha Pitch has no reason to come back next time the Veil lifts. And my heart breaks for Baz right now.

He’s realized that too.

I get him another glass of water and eventually manage to shuffle him down the hall and into bed. I tuck him under the duvet and watch him fall asleep.

I finally extract my phone and see the torrent of enraged texts from Fiona.

I tap out a response to her and then text Penny that I’ll be spending the night here. And then I turn my phone off and watch Baz until I fall asleep. 

[rosesisupposes]

If We’re Tryin’

Part 7 of Breakin’ Free, a High School Musical Sanders Sides AU

Chapter Pairings: Prinxiety, Logicality

Chapter Warnings: Scheming Deceit; 

word count: 4,025

Reader tags: @residentanchor @royally-anxious@bewarethegrammarpolice   @jemthebookworm@arandompasserby  @sparkly-rainbow-salt@astral-eclipse​ @thelowlysatsuma @adorably-angsty

<<6. Lunkheads | 8. Going For the Glory >>

read on ao3

SCENE: East High

Roman stood frozen in the middle of the hallway, a terrible weight dragging in his stomach as he watched Virgil walk away, disappearing into the crowd of students. Virgil didn’t want to do callbacks. He’d given up. But why?

The team finally seemed to have stopped being disappointed in him, but if Virgil was mad at him now, what was the point? Roman was so excited when he was with the shorter man. Like he was on the verge of some amazing discovery that he couldn’t quite name yet. And the more he sang, the more comfortable and fun it became. He didn’t want to lose that, not when he’d finally started to see himself as someone who could both sing and play basketball.

But if Virgil didn’t want to keep going, how could Roman continue?

He made his way to outdoor practice with the team, numb. Remy was running a scrimmage and grinned as he caught sight of Roman.

“Hey captain! Get your ginger ass in here!”

Roman stared blankly at the energetic team, dodging and weaving and shooting. It was too much. He waved Remy off and made his way to the track, jogging laps instead. Maybe the steady rhythm of running would help his jumbled thoughts and unsettled heart to align.

“Rem, is he okay?” Patton asked, watching the figure slowly jog further away.

“Don’t worry about it, Pat, he just needs to blow off some energy. I bet the pressure of the game is just getting to him.”

Pat frowned. “I hope you’re right.”

But even when he finished his laps, Roman didn’t rejoin the group, but went inside instead. Rem followed him in, only to see the star of the team failing, over and over. He was missing the basket even on easy shots. What was going on? Ro could make a layup in his sleep, but now he was struggling? As Rem watched, trying not to draw attention to himself, Roman managed to trip over his own shoelaces and fell to the gym floor.

He rolled over onto his back, muttering swears, before flinging the ball away and stomping off to the locker room.

Remy winced. They hadn’t messed up with their plan, right? It was just supposed to help Roman get back to focused. It was intended to help. So it couldn’t be a bad thing.

Right?

Two days later, Pat and Remy were in the cafeteria, waiting for Roman to join them from the lunch line. Just as he turning to join them, he practically walked into another student. He looked down, into deep brown eyes under purple hair.

Virgil.

He froze for a moment, then took a breath to start babbling apologies. But Virgil was already turning away. He neglected the table where Logan and the decathlon team sat, choosing instead to sit at a quiet table of mismatched chatter in the corner.

Roman stared after him until Remy called his attention. He looked up and gave a weak smile, then walked past their table to leave the lunchroom.

Patton chewed his lip, worried. “Rem, I really don’t think he’s okay.”

“Of course he is. Or will be. Maybe.” Remy sighed. “Fuck. No, you’re right. Even if he was a little bit unfocused before, it’s just worse now. The plan didn’t work, and we fucked up.”

“Language! But we do need to fix it, Rem. He’s our friend, and it’s our fault.”

“How do we even do that, Patton? It’s not like we can just hit undo.”

“This started through a miscommunication, right? So we’ll need to communicate really well to set it right. And we won’t do it alone.”

“We won’t?”

Patton shook his head, then stood and walked across the room.

Logan didn’t notice someone approaching until the students besides him were looking above his head and looking star-struck. He turned, to see Patton smiling at him from many feet above him. In a less sunny person, it might have been called looming.

“Pa- Mr. Baylor. Salutations. Was there something you needed from me?”

“Yes, Mr. McKessie, there is,” he responded, grinning a bit as he mimicked Logan’s manner of speech. “We need to talk, you see. About yesterday.”

“I see. Will you all excuse me?” He nodded to his team, then stood and followed Patton out of the lunchroom. Patton stopped by the basketball table to drag Remy along with them.

“Pat, babes, you could just ask if I can come with,” he complained.

“No I can’t, Rem, you’re too good at avoiding conflict.”

“Not my fault my reflexes are better than yours.”

“I find that very surprising,” Logan said, rolling his eyes, “because Remy causes my gag reflex to activate daily.”

Remy turned to face Logan with a terrible grin. “Oh hun, that can be arranged.”

Logan blessed his dark skin for making his blush that much less visible.

“Hey, no making fun of the allos, Rem, you already know you’re too much for us,” Patton admonished, utterly failing to keep his giggles from bursting of from behind the hand that strove to hide them.

Logan coughed and turned entirely away from Remy.

“What was it you wanted to discuss, Patton?”

Patton immediately sobered. “It’s Roman. He’s miserable. Has Virgil been down as well?”

Logan adjusted his glasses. “I am not particularly skilled at gauging others’ emotions, but Virgil has been rather avoidant over the last day. And even quieter than usual. It is very possible that he, too, is unhappy.”

Patton nodded. “I think the plan was a mistake. And since it was our mistake, we need to fix it.”

Remy ran a hand through his hair, his sober face a sharp contrast to his ‘Laughing On the Inside’ t-shirt.. “Not saying you’re wrong, Pat, but I really don’t know how we do that.”

“We caused this situation by removing the context of Roman’s outburst, did we not?” Logan said, thinking aloud. “So perhaps if we were to restore the context, and explain our collective part in generating his uncharacteristic response…?”

Patton nodded eagerly. “That’s what I was thinking too, Lo.”

Lo? Did he just give me a nickname?

“Will they believe us?” Remy asked

“They’ve got to,” Patton said fiercely. “We can’t be the ones who ruined true love!”

“True love?” Remy and Logan chorused, then glared at each other for voicing the same thought.

“Well, yeah! You two didn’t think the moping was just about the singing, did you?”

SCENE: Rooftop Garden

Roman was sitting alone on the roof, trying to absorb the sound of the wind, when the quiet was interrupted by a set of footsteps. He looked up to see Patton and Remy coming up the stairs. Well, there goes the secret hideout, he thought. Just another thing I’ve lost recently.

Rem seemed to hesitate, but was prodded on by Patton.

“Hey, Ro. Um. We just had another team meeting.”

Roman looked down. He’d missed it. Again. “Great.”

“We had a team meeting about how we haven't been acting like a team. I mean us, not you.” Remy took off his sunglasses and sat next to Roman. “Look, babes, about the singing thing…”

“It’s not happening anymore, Rem, I really don’t want to talk about it,” Roman said, refusing to face him.

“Ro, I just… I want you to know that we’re gonna be there, okay? In the audience, cheering for you.”

Roman looked up, startled. “What?”

“If singing is something you want to do, kiddo, we should be boosting you up, not tearing you down!” Patton added, smiling.

“Win or lose, we're teammates. That's what we're about,” Remy said, tentatively putting a hand on Roman’s shoulder. Then he grinned. “Even if it turns out you sing like a drowning cat.”

“Rem, I am sure he’s great! We just don’t know, because we’ve never actually heard you?” Patton interjected, turning expectantly to Roman.

Roman’s mood fell again. “Yeah, well, you’re never going to. Because Virgil won’t talk to me. And I… I don’t know why.”

Remy looked nervously at Patton, then back to Roman. “Um. We do.”

“Excuse me?”

“Here,” Patton said, handing him a packet from the lunchbox he carried. “I baked these fresh today. Thumbprint cookies, with this jam I just discovered in the health foods store. I think you should try one now, before we explain. After we do, you might need a second cookie.”

SCENE: Science Lab

Virgil was busy working through a particularly complicated reaction formula when Logan approached him.

“Virgil, can I talk to you for a moment?”

The shorter boy paused a moment, then shrugged a nod. He pushed his book aside and turned to face Logan.

Logan took a deep breath. “Virgil, I was, for lack of a better term, an asshole. But worse than that, I was an inconsiderate asshole. I mistakenly believed your interest in the musical auditions was killing our chances of having you on the scholastic decathlon team, and-”

“Logan, I don’t care about the goddamn auditions. I heard what Roman had to say. I'm on your team now. Done.” Virgil said curtly, turning back to his textbook.

“No, not done,” Logan said, stepping a bit closer. He didn’t want to invade the others’ personal space, but he needed to be heard out. “We planned it, Virgil. Remy knew he could get Roman to say things to make you want to forget about the callbacks. We orchestrated the whole thing. I am embarrassed that I was such a willing participant, and I am truly sorry for the adverse impact it has had.”

“No one forced Roman to say anything, Logan. It’s fine. We should be focusing on the decathlon anyway. It’s only a week away.”

“It is not fine!” Logan protested. “Doing well in the decathlon would be pleasant, but it is nothing compared to the regard you hold for your friends, myself included… or the regard you hold for Roman. That matters, too. And I regret that it took me so long to realize that.”

Virgil stared at him for a moment, then turned back to the board and continued writing chemical formulas, dark eyes focused on the task.

Logan nearly reached out to stop him, but let his hand drop. He allowed himself to send one last pleading look Virgil’s way, but it went unnoticed. With a sigh, he went to find Patton, to let him know that at least he had tried.

SCENE: The Montez Home

That evening, Virgil helped his mother continue to set up their house and unpack. They were very efficient packers after all these years, and tiered everything by importance. All the most essential supplies and clothes had been unpacked for weeks, and there were only decorations and knick-knacks left. His room finally felt settled now that his Nightmare Before Christmas posters were in a place of honor on one wall, and the cover art of treasured albums decorated another.

Humming Sing to himself, he carried his empty box downstairs, heading for the basement.

He was halfway down the stairs when he heard a knock on the door, and his mother opened it.

“Hello, are you Ms. Montez?” a familiar voice asked. His eyes widened as he saw his mom nod.

“Good evening - my name is Roman Bolton. Is Virgil home?”

Lisa slightly closed the door and leaned around the corner to make eye contact. Virgil shook his head, throat tight. She nodded in understanding, and flashed a brief “I love you” at him in ASL.

Turning back to the door, she responded to the tall ginger boy who was nervously shifting his weight from foot to foot on their doorstep, fiddling with a sheaf of paper in his hands as he did so. “Unfortunately, Virgil is rather busy with homework and such, so now's not really a good time.”

Roman gulped audibly. “I understand. It’s just that, I made a mistake, Ms. Montez. He doesn’t need to listen to my apology, but I really want him to know how badly I feel for making that mistake. Would you be willing to tell him I came to see him?”

Lisa softened a little. “I think I can do that, Roman. Have a good night.”

“Buenas noches, Ms. Montez.”

Roman turned and walked back down the entry path as the door shut behind him. He stopped and gazed at the house, wishing that he could somehow earn Virgil’s trust back. Listening to the quiet night sounds, he admired the balcony and graceful trees in the backyard of the Montez home. Wait. Balcony! That was it!

He took out his phone and dialed Virgil’s number. If he didn’t pick up, Roman would leave, and wouldn’t force himself into his presence. But if any part of him still was willing to talk…

After 4 rings, Roman was ready to turn away. But just at the last second, Virgil picked up.

“Hi.”

“Virge, I know you heard my idiotic rant, and I am so sorry. None of it was true - I’ve enjoyed singing so much, and particularly singing with you. It’s not nothing, it means so much to me. I just - I was so sick of my friends giving me constant shit for it, so I said things I knew would shut them up. I didn't mean any of it, please believe me.”

Virgil sat back on his bed, leaning back as he fought to keep the emotion and leaping hope out of his voice. “You sounded pretty convincing to me, princey.”

“I know the anger sounded real, because it was. I was frustrated and hurt and guilty, and I let my mouth run away with me, saying literally anything I thought would make them get off my back. But… Vee, the Roman you met on vacation, at the ski lodge… that guy was much more me than the dumbass you heard the other day.”

Virgil sighed. “Even if that’s true, the whole singing thing is making the school lose its collective shit. You said so yourself- everyone is treating you differently because of it.”

“Maybe because I don't wanna only be the basketball guy and they can't handle it,” Roman’s voice was rough - was he breathing heavily? “ That's not my problem, it's theirs.”

“What about your dad?” Virgil asked. He clamped down on the fluttery emotions in his stomach. Don’t get your hopes up don’t get your hopes up don’t get your hopes up.

“None of this is about my dad. This is about how I feel. I'm not letting the team down. They let me down. So I'm gonna sing. Will you be there next to me?”

Virgil rolled over on his bed, facing the wall. “I don’t know, Ro.”

“I need you to say yes, Virge. Because I brought you something.”

“What do you mean?” Virgil asked, sitting up.

“Turn around.”

Virgil turned slowly to face the window. There was Roman, smiling tentatively, standing on Virgil’s bedroom balcony. A leaf stuck in his hair called out the big tree behind him as his accomplice in getting up this high. Virgil slowly walked to the window-door and opened it.

“This could be the start of something new,” Roman sang softly, a capella. “It feels so right to be here with you.”

Virgil could feel a blush spreading over his cheeks. How could he not, when Roman was smiling at him with so much liking in his eyes, and singing their first shared song with as much feeling as he could muster?

“And now, looking in your eyes,” Roman continued to sing, bringing a hand up to cup Virgil’s face. “I feel in my heart the start of something new.”

Virgil was sure Roman could feel the heat of his cheeks where his fingers touched them, but the taller man didn’t try to rub it in. He just smiled earnestly, blue eyes meeting hazel, as he asked, “It’s a pairs audition, Virge. Are you with me?” He held up the paper in his free hand. It was Virgil’s sheet music.

Virgil smiled. “Yeah, princey. I’m with you.” He edged a bit closer, and took the music. Roman’s face was so close to his, but it was no longer physically possible for him to blush harder. Something in the taller man’s eyes changed, almost like a look of recognition or realization. Virgil leaned in, rising on his tiptoes as Roman slowly leaned down.

A car alarm went off on the street below, startling them both into leaping back. Roman’s face was even redder than Virgil’s, clashing terribly with his orange hair.

“I should, uh-” he stammered.

“Yeah, it’s late, and-”

“Thank you for, uh-”

“Yeah, you too,” Virgil said, and swallowed. “Um. Good night, Roman.”

There was that smile again, all freckles and pale skin and unabashed delight. “Good night, Virgil.”

He swung himself over the balcony railing, back into the tree, and grinned at Virgil from through the branches. “Sweet dreams!”

Virgil closed the balcony door again and collapsed onto the bed, still blushing. “Oh, I’m having sweet dreams alright,” he mumbled to himself. “And I’m not even asleep yet.”

SCENE: Music Room & Auditorium

Roman tore through the gym, dodging, spinning, and sinking baskets left and right. Not even Patton could guard him - he was here one second, gone straight to the hoop the next. The whole team felt the shift in energy - this was the focus they’d been striving for. They were one cohesive unit, sensing rather than seeing where their teammates were, passing with ease. Coach Bolton had nothing but praise: only days away from the game, but they were exactly where they needed to be. He could feel it in his gut - they were gonna win this thing. He wasn’t clear on the exact details of what had changed his son’s mood, but whatever it was, it was clearly working.

Still riding the energy of a successful practice, Roman flew through his post-workout shower. Teammates laughed and pointed at the clock as he shot finger-guns at the mirror. He grinned at them, and took off down the halls of East High.

In the science lab, the scholastic decathlon team was just as on point. Virgil had connected with the underclassmen in particular, and was walking them through a practical experiment. “See, guys, come look,” he instructed. “You’ve measured out five grams, right? Okay, now add that to the beaker.”

The younger student did as he instructed as the group gathered to take notes.

“See how it foams up? It’s been changed into an acidic state. And now our solution changes from pink to blue - just like the pH test strips.”

“It all makes sense now! Thanks, Virge,” a student said with a smile. Turning to give her a pat on the back, Virgil caught sight of the clock.

“Shit, gotta go! See y’all tomorrow, okay?” He quickly made his way to the door, removing his protective goggles and apron as he went.

He ran through the halls and nearly ran slap-bang into Roman as he rounded a corner.

“You’re late,” Roman said teasingly as they both ran towards the music room. Virgil grinned and grabbed Roman’s hand, pulling him along as they hurried to meet Joan for rehearsal.

Dee was strolling through the halls as if he owned them, as per usual. He hummed to himself, the callback song he and Cee were to perform in just three days. Even if this whole ‘callback’ thing was an irritating formality, it was nice to be able to

H suddenly heard something that sounded like voices accompanied by piano coming from one of the music rooms. He stopped short, reaching out and grabbing his twin’s arm without looking. They leaned as one to listen more carefully.

Two people were singing, and they sounded beautiful together.

“Wow, they sound good,” Cee said, not just a little concerned. Dee frowned, and crept to the door. Maybe it was some ensemble members?

Dee’s eyes widened as he saw that it was in fact Roman and Virgil singing, accompanied by Joan on the piano. “Cee, we have to do something!”

Cee furrowed his brow. “What if they’re just… better than us?”

Dee scowled. “They might be good singers, but they’re not actors. Now shush and let me think.” He took out his phone and scrolled through the calendar. “Hmm, ok. Our callbacks are on Thursday and the basketball game and the scholastic decathlon are on Friday…” He looked up, smirking. “Too bad all these events aren't happening on the same day... at the same time.”

Cee tilted a head, confused. “But that wouldn’t work, because Roman and Virgil just wouldn’t be able to come to the…” Dee nodded as realization dawned over Cee’s face. He smiled, finally seeing what the other intended. “I’m so proud to be your twin.”

“Don’t I know it,” Dee responded with a smile, and walked on with a new spring in his step.

That afternoon, Joan was in the auditorium instead of math class. They’d been struck by inspiration and also imaginary numbers were ridiculous, so composing was far and away the best use of their time right now. Humming very softly to themself, they revised and edited the sheet music on the piano as they relaxed in a corner of the backstage area. Suddenly, they heard voices walking in, and ducked to fully hide behind the piano.

“I don't want to hear about Roman Bolton or that Montez boy,” Ms. Darbus said, walking in. “In fact, I can’t hear anything about them.” She turned to face Cee & Dee, who had walked in with her. “But if you're telling me as co-presidents of the drama club that changing the callbacks would be what's best for our theater program, then I might be inclined to agree with you.” She checked around the area, confirming they were alone. “I will trust your judgments, Mr. and Mr. Evans.” She nodded decisively, and left.

“That was a yes, right?” Cee asked. Dee winked hugely, and walked off in the opposite direction from the director, singing under his breath. “Bop bop bop, bop to the top, wipe away your inhibitions!”

Cee still looked a bit confused, but followed his brother.

In their hiding place, Joan sighed in frustration. Would nothing with their show go smoothly?

They practically sprinted to the announcements board the next morning. But even though they’d expected it, they still felt the cold of disappointment steadily dripping down their back.

They were still standing and staring when the basketball and science teams came by.

“Callback Auditions reschedule to Friday starting at 3:30pm,” the sign proclaimed.

“Callbacks at the same time as the game?” Roman said.

Virgil’s mouth twisted. “And during the scholastic decathlon.”

“Why would they do that?” Patton asked unhappily.

“I hear hissing, and the snake’s named Darbus,” Remy growled, glaring accusingly at the poster over his sunglasses.

“It’s actually two snakes, and neither’s named Darbus,” Joan piped up.

Remy turned, and looked down. “Do you know something about this, small person?”

“Ms. Darbus thinks she’s protecting the show,” Joan told the group, “but Cee & Dee- well, mostly Dee - he only cares about protecting himself.”

“That’s it, bitches need to die,” Remy said, already about to storm off.

“Rem, no, no murder,” Roman interrupted. “We’re not going to do anything to them. Except maybe sing. I have the beginnings of a truly brilliant plan, if I do say so myself, but it’s only going to work if we can work together. Who’s in?”

Roman put out a hand that was immediately covered by Virgil’s and Joan’s in quick succession. Remy was next, and two underclassmen from the each team. Logan had gotten stuck on the outside of the group, but Patton put a hand up to high five him, then used his other arm to connect them both to the huddle. Logan smiled and felt the faint tinglings of a blush when Patton didn’t let go of his hand, instead clasping his hand more firmly.

“What team?” Virgil called with an ironic smile.

“Wildcats!” they cheered as a group.

Roman’s freckled face curved with his enormous grin. “Let’s do this, y’all! Game on!”

a/n: i’m having so much fun with this story, can you tell?

[icecubelotr44]

Clear and Present Danger (3/16)

Summary:  Homicide detective Killian Jones has been searching for a way to bring Milah’s murderer to justice. There’s only one small problem: Robert Gold is the captain of the same homicide division. Enter Emma Swan, Internal Affairs investigator, looking into Gold’s shady dealings. Between the two of them, can they unravel the web of deals and lies that have gotten Gold to where he is?

Rated:  T, for violence, some dark themes, angst, and whump (you expected different?

TW: character death, mention of past self-harm, fatal car accident, school hostage situation

Other ships: mentions past Millian in a good light, Outlaw Queen, Snowing

Art credit/link: The totally awesome @cocohook38 made the cover you can see above and on her blog here. Later in the story, she’s illustrated some key points to the fic and I can’t thank her enough for her work!  Go show her some love!

Beta reader: @gusenitsaa took on this monster without probably knowing exactly what she was getting into (what do you mean 100,000 words?!) and any mistakes that you find are probably me being stubborn and ignoring her advice!  Thank you!

A/N:  Written as part of the 2018 Captain Swan Big Bang Challenge.  You can catch up with all the other fics that are complete by following @captainswanbigbang and/or subscribing to the Group Collection on AO3 and/or the C2 on FFN. This is complete in 16 parts and will be posted every Sunday from now until its completion.

Take it away, It’s going to be a bumpy ride.

Word count:  ~ 6,250 (100k Total in 16 chapters)

From the beginning: AO3 / FFN

Current Chapter: ao3 | ffn

CHAPTER THREE: Reasonable Suspicion 

Killian’s ears were still ringing from the blow the woman had landed across his jaw.  His lungs had only just started working again and he was sure that there would be bruises to hide from Liam in the morning.  To say that she’d taken him by surprise was an understatement.  He watched her carefully, the glint of the sun on the metal in her hand enough to keep him on edge.

“Gold… murdered someone,” Emma repeated, playing idly with the blade.  It wasn’t a question, but Killian nodded reluctantly anyway.

“I… I can’t prove it.”  He scrubbed a hand over his face to hide his frustration at that before he continued.  “Yet.  The bloody crocodile was in the station when it happened and everything I’ve turned up is dead ends.  But I know he was responsible.  I know he killed her.  And if you’re here to investigate him, then-”

“How do you know that I’m investigating him?” she asked, and he could hear the suspicion dripping off every word.

Killian shrugged.  “You weren’t doing much to hide it.  And there’s not much else going on in the office other than Gold’s hubris, lass.  Not that would draw IA’s attention, anyway.  But I meant what I said, you can’t trust Isaac.  He’s so far into Gold’s pocket that I’m pretty sure they’re wearing the same pants.”

The woman nodded.  “I figured that out for myself, thanks.”

“Oh, you’re a tough lass.”  Killian was thrilled to see her finally fold up the knife and stuff it into a pocket.  “May I have the pleasure of your name now, Miss...?”

“Detective Swan,” she said, sticking out her hand for him to shake.  “Emma.”

Killian took her hand and, ignoring the widening of her eyes in surprise, pulled it up to kiss her knuckles in a show of exaggerated chivalry.  

“Pleased to meet you, Swan,” he said over her knuckles, tightening his grip when she tried to pull away.  “I think we’re going to make quite the team.”

She scoffed.  “Who said I was going to work with you?”

“The way I see it, we’re looking for the same thing.  We can either keep working separately, or” - he shrugged again, still refusing to let go of her hand - “we can pool our resources.  Put Gold and whoever’s making it so easy for him to sit pretty in that office behind bars.”

Emma smiled sweetly, drawing a grin from him that he couldn’t help, before she struck, twisting his grip around until she had him shoved face first against the brick.

“Bloody-”

“Let’s get one thing straight, buddy,” she interrupted his cursing.  “Your charm might work on someone else, but not me.  You give me what you have on Gold and maybe… maybe I’ll think about keeping you in the loop.  But I’m not going to just trust you because you say so.  For all I know, you’re just as far into Gold’s pocket as your buddy Isaac.”

“I’d never be caught dead working with him,” Killian muttered against the wall, chagrined to realize that she had him completely incapacitated.  “We’re on the same side, luv.”

“Not your love.  You can call me Detective.”  She released him as quickly as she’d restrained him, stepping back and glaring before he could even turn around.  She was strong, she was guarded, and she was dangerous.  But she wanted Gold behind bars and he’d worked with less in the past.  

“Detective,” he allowed with a nod, “I think we can help each other.  And you could use someone on the inside, yeah?”

He could see her mulling it over, the indecision written on her face as clearly as words on a page.  There was something about her, despite the knife she’d pulled on him. He knew her job wasn’t easy, knew that the majority of their colleagues would rather vilify her than praise her for taking an impossible job and making it hers.  But there was more than that hiding in the depths of her eyes.  A deeper hurt that resonated with him.  She had the look of someone who’d been thrown away like garbage and it made Killian all the more grateful to remember that Liam had always been there for him.

Even if he was going to take the long way home to avoid the Spanish Inquisition and resultant mollycoddling that was going to come the second Liam saw the bruise forming on his chin.

Her eyes narrowed, searching him, and Killian waited for her to make a decision.

He smiled in triumph a moment before she sighed.  “I don’t like working with partners, Jones.”

Killian waited.  She was going to let him help, he just had to be patient and not push it.

“But you’re right” - it sounded as if it cost her something to admit that - “that it wouldn’t hurt to have a set of eyes and ears that your coworkers wouldn’t expect.  We do this my way, got it?”

“Of course, Swan.  You’re in charge.”  Killian held out his hand to shake hers again.

She glanced at it.  “I’m not going to kiss your knuckles, you know.”

His answering grin was so wide that his cheeks hurt., but Emma didn’t seem to notice.  “I’ll see you tomorrow, Jones.  Watch your back, all right?”

“I’ve got plenty of people in my corner who will do that for me, lass.  Keep your eyes up, yeah?”

Killian thought he heard her mutter, “Must be nice,” before she disappeared around the corner.  He nodded to himself, turning back to the main road and heading towards the subway station.  There was a kernel of hope that hadn’t been there before, a tendril of possibility that Killian wanted to grab onto with both hands and tug.  He wasn’t the only one anymore, the only one who saw Gold as more than just an untouchable and necessary evil.  Still, they’d have to tread lightly.  Gold wouldn’t hesitate to take them down to keep himself safe.

“Jones?” Locksley called, pulling Killian out of his thoughts.  “What are you doing down here, mate? Get lost?”

Killian knew he was joking - mostly - but he could hear the worry in his tone.  “Aye mate, thought I parked the Benz down here.”  He managed to keep a straight face long enough for Robin’s hand to twitch towards the phone on his belt.

“Bugger off!” Robin spat when the grin on Killian’s face gave away the joke.

Killian sobered immediately at Locksley’s tone.  “I’m sorry,” he apologized, moving out of the alley to catch up with his partner.

Robin glared at him before walking towards the subway station.  “We were all worried, you know. You woke up in the ER and you didn’t know Liam.”

What?

Killian whipped his head around to catch Robin’s eye and he grabbed his partner’s arm when Locksley wouldn’t even look at him.

“I wasn’t supposed to tell you that,” Robin grumbled.

Some of Liam’s hovering over the past few weeks started to make more sense.  His brother could give the fiercest mama bear a run for her money on a good day, so Killian hadn’t thought too much about it.  He couldn’t have named the emotion half-hidden in Liam’s eyes every time he’d fussed over Killian, not then.  But he also didn’t remember much between seeing Hades in the alley and waking up to Liam’s mother henning in the hospital room he’d suffered through forty-eight hours of observation with ill disguised grace.

Maybe not so much on the ‘disguised’ end of the spectrum.

“I don’t remember that,” he muttered when Robin’s concerned stare went on too long.

His partner nodded.  “We figured as much.  And Liam said not to say anything when you woke up again and everything had seemed to settle.”

“Of course he did,” Killian mumbled under his breath amidst a sigh.

Fear.  That was what Liam had been trying in vain to suppress.  Killian had scared him again.  While he remembered only a knock to the head, Liam had been forced to wait for him to wake up, not knowing if he’d remember his own brother when he did.

There had been plenty of scares in their careers - they were both police officers, after all - and injuries were par for the course.  Both he and Liam had spent their share of sleepless nights at their brother’s bedside and the fear that came with that was all-encompassing, but mostly fleeting.  It had to be, or they’d never get back out on the streets.

But Killian remembered when Liam had woken up shaking and couldn’t stop - not quite seizing, but close enough to send a tendril of pure terror coursing through him.  He remembered how close he had stayed those first few weeks as the neurotoxin settled in Liam’s bloodstream and allowed him to resume most of his daily activities. He remembered that fear.  That was what Liam had been dealing with over the last couple weeks as Killian recovered.  The unknown quantity.

Didn’t mean that Killian wasn’t going to find a way to exact revenge for the super glue, though.  It wouldn’t do to let Liam - and by extension, David - think they could get away with nonsense like that just because they were ‘older and wiser’ as it were.

He and Robin parted ways at the corner, the bustle of the city at rush hour serving to make the headache that Swan had exacerbated even worse.  It would be sheer luck if Liam didn’t take one look at him and blow a gasket.  He recalled a scene in one of the Harry Potter movies where Harry had been locked in his bedroom - it didn’t take too much of an imagination to picture Liam trying the same tactic.

Swan occupied his thoughts on the ride home, their two brief interactions playing on a loop as he pondered over her - who was she really?  What made her tick?  Why had she chosen to go into Internal Affairs?  She was clearly tough enough to be on the streets and he didn’t think that outside perceptions of her would have swayed her away from a beat patrol before moving up the ranks.

What does she have on Gold?

Killian hadn’t been this intrigued by a woman since the day he’d first set eyes on Milah.  He’d been sitting alone in Finnegan’s Tavern, a bottle of Sam Adams forgotten on the table in front of him and his brother off in another corner of the bar getting them something to eat.  She’d been stunning to look at, sitting by herself as well and nursing a glass of wine as sharp eyes darted around the room.  Her curls falling loose over her back, the lost look in her eyes, all of it intrigued him and he wanted to know more.

It hadn’t taken long for Killian to forget that Liam was even there with him; he’d approached her and been regretfully turned down that evening, but she hadn’t left his thoughts.  Who was she and why did she look so sad?

Every minute with her was a gift - and Gold had torn it from his grasping fingers.  She’d been Killian’s for a few precious-

“What the bloody hell happened?” The voice broke through his musings.

Killian sighed audibly.  As expected, he’d barely managed to get the door open before Liam had pounced on him.  He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, if only in deference to the headache, and waited for the inevitable inspection.

“You’re supposed to be on deskwork!”  Liam stomped through the kitchen, reaching out to turn Killian’s head closer to the light.  Killian hadn’t seen the bruise yet, but he could feel it - blood pooling hot and pulsing just under the skin of his jaw, a stark reminder of what it was to be on Emma Swan’s bad side.  Liam poked at the bruise, drawing a hushed grunt of pain and - if possible - the frown on his brother’s face deepened to new levels.

Mindful of what Robin had let slip, Killian tolerated the inspection as patiently as he could manage, for as long as he could manage.  It didn’t take too long before he was batting Liam’s prodding fingers away anyway.  “It’s fine, brother.  I spent the entire bloody day sitting at my desk twiddling my thumbs like a good boy, all right?”

The smirk on Liam’s face flashed for only an instant before it was hidden behind a mask, but Killian didn’t miss it.  He glared and pointedly didn’t mention the super glue nor the fact that he likely still smelled like nail polish remover.  He just wanted a shower and some ibuprofen and something to drink.

“So how’d you get the bruise then?” Liam asked, his fingers twitching like he wanted to poke and prod at it some more.

Killian moved safely out of reach before he snarked back.  “I was attacked by a Swan on my way home. It took us awhile to come to an understanding.”

Liam just blinked.  Killian waited just long enough to see the confusion start to turn to concern before he cracked a smile, waving his brother off and rooting through the fridge for a drink.  The shower would have to wait until Liam was satisfied, but at least he could get rid of the cottony feeling in his mouth.

“Killian!”

He sighed.  “Relax, brother.  I’m fine.  There’s an IA officer looking into Gold.  She and I… we didn’t get off on the right foot, so when I went to try again…” he trailed off, waving over his jaw.

Liam snickered, a look on his face that left Killian’s ears red.  “I assume you put things right, little brother?”

“Younger, Liam,” he whined, cringing a little at how petulant he sounded.  It wasn’t a new argument and, truth be told, it wasn’t one Killian ever expected to win.  He didn’t even mind too much when Liam didn’t acknowledge the ‘correct’ moniker as he moved to pull dinner out of the oven.  It would be all too easy to make a remark about him becoming a good housewife and Killian patted himself on the back for not giving in to the temptation.

It was a close call, but he’d plan something better in retaliation for his desk.

Emma sunk into the steaming bath water with an audible sigh.  She’d left the light off, several candles burning away merrily and filling the small room with soothing scents.  There was a glass of wine on the bath caddy and a book lying face down that she only sort of intended to read.  It didn’t take too long for the heat to seep into Emma’s muscles and she relaxed into a boneless heap in the water.  However much she had intended to leave work at work, she couldn’t get that interaction with Jones out of her head.  She had no reason to feel bad; he’d been sneaking up on her, she had plenty of experience with loyal cops showing her how they felt about her investigations, he’d been sneaking up on her.

And yet.

Killian Jones was far more than a pretty face.  If he was telling her the truth, he’d been grievously wronged by Gold and could be a valuable asset in her investigation.  The key was to get in and get out without getting attached.  He was a tool in her arsenal, nothing more.  His sarcastic quips and the over-the-top chivalry weren’t going to change anything - she was at the precinct to do a job and that was it.

Bringing someone like Gold to justice would more than make her career.  It would make the other detectives start to take her seriously, a woman in a man’s world.  She would love nothing more than to wipe the indulgent smirks off the faces of the men in her office.  It might be nice to be able to peek out of the armor a little bit. Occasionally.

The water slowly cooled and her glass ran dry, but Emma still lingered in the half haze of sleep that she’d slipped into.  It was simple here, in the sanctuary of her apartment, away from all the drama and the politics and the intrigue of her cases and her interoffice relationships.  She didn’t have to hide behind the mask she’d crafted or question every interaction she had.  Here, there was just her and the safety of her loneliness.

When the water was finally a few degrees too cold to be comfortable, Emma stood and wrapped herself in a towel.  She tried not to bring her work home with her; it was hard enough to deal with it during work hours.  But with the addition of Jones to her arsenal - and her constant thoughts, it seemed - she’d have to come up with a new plan of attack.  Emma wasn’t used to having to consider another person on her side in her investigations.  They’d tried to rope her into working with a partner before but it never stuck.  They were too inept or she was too prickly, too stubborn, too set in her ways to listen to their ideas.

It was better if she worked alone, that was all there was to it.

Over the next few days, Emma did what Emma did best: she ignored Killian Jones completely.  She had plenty of interviews to conduct and spent half of her time driving across the state to follow up with the men and women Gold had put behind bars as well as some he hadn’t.  They all had precisely the same thing to say about him.

Absolutely nothing.

Emma didn’t need her ‘super power’ to tell that they were - to the very last man - terrified to speak out against Gold.  Someone had gotten to them before her and had bought their silence.  It left her irritable and exhausted, unwilling to play the game when Isaac cornered her in the bullpen to “see what she needed.”

She needed to punch someone in the face.

As it was, putting her fist across Isaac’s jaw probably wouldn’t do anything but get her suspended and put the investigation that much further behind.  Instead, she plastered on a smile that she hoped looked sincere enough to pass muster and asked for another batch of files that had nothing to do with Gold or the charges against him, hoping that the little weasel would run back to his master and crow about her apparent ineptitude.  She’d have to steer the investigation formally towards Gold at some point, but she needed something concrete to go on before then.  All she had right now were allegations and rumors that were - so far - unfounded.  Emma didn’t believe for a moment that the accusations listed in her file were false, but she needed to find some kind of evidence.  Even the evidence from the investigation into Milah Gold was hazy at best and - as Jones had said - didn’t point to Gold’s involvement at all.

The case had, very pointedly in fact, implicated Killian Jones in her murder.  Even if Emma hadn’t heard it in his voice the day she’d nearly knocked him out in that alley, she was no longer uncertain about how much Jones had loved Milah.  It was written all over the interrogations, the track the evidence had taken, in every entry from the detective who’d investigated.  Killian had been cleared quickly - which surprised Emma given Gold’s power - but the damage must have been done.

The problem was, it was all too clean.  There was no way that the woman’s brake lines had been cut and no one had been spotted near her car in the police station’s parking garage.  The video surveillance gave Emma - and anyone else who had investigated, namely K. Jones on a near-weekly schedule - a perfect view of Milah’s car.  Emma watched as the woman got out of the vehicle and walked out of frame, then stared at nothing of note for the half hour she’d been gone, and finally saw her come back to her car and drive away.

All of it was too clean.  Every case that Gold had closed, every murderer that he’d convicted, on paper they were all perfectly by the book.  Every ‘i’ was dotted and every ‘t’ was crossed.  On paper, there was no reason to suspect that he’d ever stepped a toe across the line.  But all it took was one look at him to know that he was dirty.  All it took was one readthrough of the case file that had been compiled to get the sick feeling in her stomach.  Gold needed to be tried for his crimes and, hopefully, the evidence against him would be compelling enough that not even whoever was backing him would come out with their hands clean.

That was Emma’s job, and she looked forward to the end results.  She did not, however, enjoy the monotony that came with trying to keep her investigation under wraps.  She had Isaac pull Jones’s case files today, trying to get a glimpse into the lieutenant’s process in attempts to understand him better.  The mole at her side grinned snidely when he’d commented that it was only a matter of time before Jones was investigated.

“His promotion was a little too convenient,” he crowed before elbowing her in the side in apparent camaraderie, “if you know what I mean.”

Emma stepped pointedly away and resisted the urge to roll her shoulder and stretch where he’d impacted her ribs.  Instead, she smiled in feigned interest and cocked her head to the side.  “Oh, really?” she asked, hoping Isaac would latch on to the ruse.

He did.

“Oh yes, I could tell you all about Lieutenant Jones and how he came to be in our humble department.  Did you know that he was still on patrol just over a year ago?”

She hadn’t.

“Captain Gold requested that his promotion track be accelerated personally.  I’ve never understood it, of course.  Jones is nothing but a problem.  The captain tolerates him, but if you ask me, there’s something fishy about it, because the two of them… well, to say they’re like cats and dogs would be insulting to those poor animals.  And yet…” Isaac trailed off meaningfully, his eyes tracking across the bullpen to where Jones had just entered.  Instead of finishing his statement, he just shrugged as if the lieutenant’s presence was answer enough.

It didn’t make any sense.  From what she could tell, Jones was a Boy Scout.  She wouldn’t be surprised to find an Eagle Scout award in his history.  She’d known there was no way that he was being backed by Gold - even before she knew what she did about his history with the captain’s former wife.  But the mysterious benefactor… Emma didn’t know anything about him.  Yet.  It was possible that Gold was just an unfortunate middle man, or that they were both trying to force Jones into a position where he couldn’t get free of them.  It was possible, she supposed, that Jones was in on the whole thing and was playing her to get information.

Even as she thought it, the voice inside her head laughed at her.  No, Jones wasn’t involved with Gold or his backer.  If he was, then she would turn in her badge and gun and take up a job at the local Walmart.  Emma wasn’t good at people, but she was good at reading them.  It made her successful as a detective and horrible to play poker against, but she’d take the former over the latter any time.  A cop who couldn’t trust her gut was a dead cop and Emma liked breathing too much not to hone that skill.

Emma focused on Isaac’s retreating back as he headed for the file room - now he was definitely working for Gold, and not in the official capacity.  She’d do anything to have him far away from her and her investigation, if only for the drop in stress that would entail.

She almost missed the note on her desk, tucked away under the file marked K. Jones that she’d purposely left out.  Who had been near her desk?  And what did they want?  

Atlantis Marina, 8pm tonight.

It’ll be worth it.

Emma supposed she’d have to go to the marina to find out.  She wasn’t naive, but she wasn’t cautious by nature, either.  She would, however, be there well before eight in order to get the lay of the land.

Emma worked for a few more hours, digging into Killian’s past just in case her gut was wrong.  She finally dug past the insubordination claims that Gold seemed to file on a regular basis and burrowed deep enough into his file to find a redacted report of drunk and disorderly conduct that had never been closed or prosecuted.  Further digging, however, revealed that the date of the report coincided with the date of Milah Gold’s funeral, so Emma put it out of her mind.  If the man needed a little bit of liquid courage to say goodbye to a woman he clearly loved, then who was she to judge him?

Five o’clock came all too suddenly and Emma locked up the files she didn’t plan on taking home with her before signing out the ones she did.  With evening traffic, it could take twenty minutes or it could take forever to get to the marina, and she wanted plenty of time to walk the perimeter and see if she could get an upper hand on whoever had left the note for her.  At the very least, she wanted escape routes and a good vantage point of the entrance before whoever planned on meeting her showed up.  Emma texted the address to Ruby and Dorothy in case she needed back up, but declined their offer to come down and stake out the place.  She had a sneaking suspicion as to whose handwriting that had been, and didn’t think she’d need any of the precautions she was taking.

But Emma had been burned before.

The marina was well maintained.  The lights in the parking area and along the docks provided very few shadows that someone could ambush her from and there were men and women in security uniforms patrolling the docks at random intervals.  Emma found that she already had a reserved parking space in the guest lot, and the attendant there knew who she was - pointing out that the boat she was looking for was in its slip on B-dock.

The Jolly Roger.  

Emma could see it from where she was standing on another dock - she wasn’t entirely sure which dock it was - sitting jauntily in the water and inviting her to come aboard.  As if a boat could be jaunty and inviting.  There were lights on in the… she thought it was called a cockpit but wouldn’t lay money down on it.  But no one was aboard.

It wasn’t new by any means, but it was clearly well cared for.  The hull gleamed in the lights and the name on the back was crisp-lettered and pristine.  There were a few dings here and there along the hull and the railing, but the metal shined and the windows were streak-free.  She had a feeling that whoever owned the boat would be put off by the small imperfections, but was clearly proud of his - or her - ownership.

“You can see her up close, if you like,” Jones’s voice whispered in her ear.

She whirled around, fists up and ready to defend herself.  There was a moment of terrifying weightlessness as she stepped back, expecting her foot to impact solid wood and instead finding open air.  Emma’s eyes widened in surprise and her breath caught in her throat even as she flailed and caught Killian’s outstretched hands.  He pulled her close and Emma latched onto his shoulders, fingers tight in his leather jacket as she tried to convince herself that she was on solid ground again.

“Damnit, Jones!” she shouted in his face.  He was terrifyingly close.

He shrugged, the muscles under her fingers bunching with the movement.  She realized, a bit belatedly, that she still hadn’t let go of him.  Nor he of her.  Emma shoved him back, putting enough space in between them that her heart finally started to slow down.  It rankled her a bit that he didn’t stumble, just swayed with the push and stood tall.

She glared at him.  “I could have fallen in!”

Killian just smirked, something dangerous in his eyes.  “That’s a plausible excuse for grabbing me, but next time, don’t stand on ceremony.”

Emma rolled her eyes.  “You wish, buddy.”

He finally stepped back, although Emma got the feeling he’d have stayed there if he thought he could get away with it.  He clasped his hands behind his back, instead, and rocked back on his heels.  “I meant what I said, though.  You can see her up close, if you like.”

Emma just looked at him in askance.

“You… you did get my note, didn’t you?”

She pulled the crumpled piece of paper from her pocket.  “And how, exactly, was I supposed to know it was from you?”

“I signed it,” he explained with a funny little grin, taking the note from her and smoothing it out against his leg.  “See?”

Emma looked where he’d turned the paper over, the small caricature of a hook and a swan in the bottom corner.  She’d seen the drawing, of course, but she still didn’t understand.  She stared at him incredulously, before asking again,  “And how, exactly, was I supposed to know it was from you?”

“Well, I couldn’t exactly sign my own name, could I?” Jones shrugged.  “Not with your little shadow combing every piece of paper on your desk at all times.  It’s all very cloak and dagger, you see, and who’s better at that than a pirate?”

Emma glanced over her shoulder to the nameplate on the back of Killian’s boat.  “You had an unhealthy obsession with Peter Pan as a child, didn’t you?”

“Never liked the little demon,” he replied, matter of fact.  “Always thought that Captain Hook was the hero of that fairy tale.”

“Even with the waxed moustache and the perm?”

Killian smirked.  “You never read the book, did you?  Captain Hook was devilishly handsome, after all.  Like me,” he preened a little.

Emma just shook her head.  He didn’t need the ego boost - clearly.  “So what are we doing here, Jones?”

“I didn’t know how else to get your attention.  You’ve been avoiding me, lass.”  Killian shrugged.  “I thought…”

“We can’t exactly be seen working together,” Emma defended her actions.  “I haven’t been avoiding you.”

She totally had.

One of Killian’s eyebrows raised pointedly.  “You might find this a surprising attribute in a detective, Swan, but I’m actually quite perceptive and this” - he gestured between them - “this is avoiding me.”

Emma nodded in spite of herself.  There was no use denying what was painfully obvious anyway.  “So… what?  You thought you’d lure me here with a mystery and…” she shrugged emphatically, waiting for an explanation.

The tips of Killian’s ears went a little bit pink.  “One of the first things my brother taught me after I graduated the academy was to limit the amount of work I brought home with me.  I know that with Isaac lurking about you’re probably trying to throw him off and that’s got to be exhausting.  I thought that you… that we could use the Jolly as some kind of, I don’t know, an in between or something.”

Emma blinked.

Killian just shrugged.  “I want to help, Swan.  I need to help put him away.  For Milah.  For… for me.  We can’t exactly advertise that we’re working together, I get that.  But I can help you.”

There was a reason Emma didn’t work with a partner.  She did her own thing, her own way, on her own terms.  The only one who she risked being hurt was her and the only one who was responsible for the outcome of her cases was her.  She had worked with someone else a time or two, but not since she’d moved to Internal Affairs; she found it just wasn’t worth it.

But maybe just this once, with a case this big and a willing pawn in Killian Jones, it wouldn’t be such a bad idea.  The appeal of having someplace away from both prying eyes and her own sanctuary was strong.  Part of Emma still balked - she was better off alone, history had shown her that time and time again - but she pushed past it for the sake of her case.

“All right, Jones, let’s see this boat of yours.”

It didn’t take them long to cover the entirety of the aft cabin in paperwork.  Liam would have a fit if he decided to take her out for more than a brief afternoon, but seeing Gold’s demise come together piece by piece was worth the strife Killian knew he’d hear about.  Emma had already cobbled together a timeline of Gold’s career, listing cases and complaints alike along with his promotions and the men and women he’d promoted himself.  

Killian bristled when he saw his own name listed, the blue star next to his name signifying Gold’s personal involvement in the transfer.  “Swan, just so you know, this wasn’t… I didn’t…” he trailed off, still looking at his name on the timeline and uncertain how to explain.

Emma slid another paper over the top of that one, this one listing unsolved cases that Gold had sent to the Cold Case division.  “You can tell me in your own time,” she allowed with a small smile.

He nodded.  Killian couldn’t deny that the promotion had been a bit of grabbing the tiger by the tail.  He knew Gold had it out for him, would try his best to make Killian’s life miserable.  But Liam and David had already been in Homicide before Milah’s death and Killian had longed for the chance to work beside his brother.  Then he’d met Milah and thought that the price he would have to pay for falling for her was his dream of being partnered with Liam.  After her murder, he’d stopped caring how he got to Liam’s side, he just knew he couldn’t do it anymore without his brother.  Any of it. The transfer had seemed like the universe paying him back - a little - for stealing Milah from him.  And then Liam had been injured because of him and now… well, now it was all about taking down Gold.  Killian couldn’t deny that he didn’t really care what happened to his career after that.

Or to himself.

Maybe he should take Liam up on that offer to move to the private sector, after all.

“Are you even listening, Jones?” Emma’s annoyed question made him realize she’d been trying to get his attention for quite some time.

He shook his head apologetically, scratching behind one ear and attempting a smirk.  He could feel how forced it was and the look on Emma’s face proved that she wasn’t buying it either.  “Apologies, lass, I got a bit caught up in my head.”

“I said, it’s getting late and we should probably get out of here.  Do we need to pack this up, or…” she looked at him in askance.

Killian shook his head.  “No.  No one but myself and my brother have keys to the cabins and I’ll let him know that this is all here.”  He groaned internally at the idea of telling Liam about all this - the mess and what he was about to do next.  Regardless of Liam’s opinion on the matter, however, he reached into his pocket and handed her a keychain with a pirate ship on it.

Emma stared at it for a moment.

“It’s not going to bite you, lass.  I just thought that…” he shrugged.  “Well, you need access to the cabin and I might not always be able to get you here.  Smee is the parking attendant you met earlier; he knows to let you have the guest parking space whenever you’d like it and you’re on the list of approved guests with access to the boat.  No one will bother you.”

She finally reached out and snagged the key, turning the little ship over in her hands.  “It’s a little on the nose, don’t you think?” Emma asked with a smirk that made the tips of Killian’s ears go hot.

“The appeal of Neverland as a child - an escape where time would stop and I could have all the time in the world to figure out how to get what I wanted - it was intoxicating.  I guess it’s never really left me.”  He paused and raised one eyebrow.  “Although I still think the bloody demon of that island would have made life miserable there.”

Emma laughed, finally putting the key in her pocket after further inspection.  She followed him out onto the deck, but didn’t make a move to climb onto the dock again.

“And what did a young Killian Jones want that he couldn’t have?” she asked lightly, a glint of something in her eyes that Killian wanted to understand.

He shrugged in what he hoped was nonchalance.  That wasn’t a tale he was ready to get into yet.  “Wouldn’t you like to know?” he deflected instead.

There was a look in Emma’s eyes that told Killian she might just understand what it was he and Liam had been searching for all those years - a home.

“Perhaps I would.”

tagging: @killian-whump, @gilliangrissom, @nothingimpossibleonlyimprobable

[tizzabianca]

Just an update on how this week has been for me. I know it’s only Thursday but the amount of things that has happened during the past 3 days is overwhelming already but in a good way.

We had our Internal Medicine and *supposedly* Radiology exam on Monday. Internal Medicine started at 8 AM and Radiology was scheduled at 3 PM. Considering the long waiting hours, Lally and I went to Sambros Cafe to have our late breakfast and early lunch. But as expected, we watched one episode of Kim’s Convenience (which I am loving so much!) and went through our social media accounts before we started reviewing for Radiology. A few hours before the exam, we were both so close to giving up because all we see are black and whites unlike in Histology where it was easier to identify and point structures. I don’t know if it’s because I have no background in Radiology as compared with Histology but Radiology so far is my least favorite subject for this school year. Anyway, we went back to school and had enough time to take a nap before reviewing for the last time outside the HI lab where we take our exams ONLY TO FIND OUT OUR EXAM IS CANCELLED. The worse part is they didn’t announce it right away. They kept saying they’re just having technical difficulties and that the exam will push through but one of our liaison officers told us that our professor and his resident forgot about our exam and has left the institute already. Imagine the amount of time (almost 7 hours) we wasted that we could’ve used for resting and studying for the next day’s exams. UGH. I hated that day so much.

Come Tuesday, it was time for our OB-GYN and Surgery exam. I can’t confidently say I did well on both exams because I was still tired and pissed off from Monday’s schedule disaster but the moment I finished my Surgery exam at 2 PM, I knew I needed to go out and have a breather. Originally, I planned to go to Alabang to buy my toner and watch a movie by myself. As I was heading out of my dorm after changing clothes and all, I had this urge to text Anna, my college best friend who is now taking up medicine in FEU-NRMF, and ask if she’s free to meet up. Being the spontaneous pair of people we are, she agreed to meet up in Taft but after her class which ends at 6 PM. I arrived at Manila around 4 PM which was too early for our meet up time so I went to SM Manila first then Robinson Place Manila to buy the things I originally need and to kill time. Something happened during the hours I was at those malls but I prefer not to tell it here because it’s something I don’t want to have any memory from. Moving on, Anna and I finally met again after months! We had dinner at Samgyup with the usual catching up kwentos. Both of us didn’t want to go home yet so we grabbed a drink at Plato, invited Ivan who came all the way from Valenzuela, and video-chatted with our old college blockmates including Mau, Ju, and even Raj. As the night goes on, we ended up convincing Mio to join us in Taft who was back in Dasma at that time. He kept saying that I should’ve told him a lot earlier I was going to Manila but I kept saying, too, that everything was unplanned! I looove spontaneous nights and how my spontaneous friends are always G, too. By 12 midnight, Mio has arrived and our night has officially started. After drinking, we went to a KTV bar at Providence Tower then had early breakfast at Kanto Freestyle Breakfast La Salle which is a 24 hour breakfast-themed restaurant across Providence Tower. It’s a nice restaurant with really good food so if you’re around the area you should definitely check it out! As much as we all wanted to spend more time like old times, we all had to go back to our respective med student lives. Mio and I got back in Dasma by past 5 AM which was sooo late already but our morning classes for that day were just OB-GYN feedback and Psychiatry film showing. I honestly missed hanging out with my college friends. It made me want to go back to college (as always since we all left) even more. I missed Taft, I missed my friends, I missed La Salle. I miss the old times it made me so emotional even up to now as I write this blog. It’s one of those days you wish there’s a real life pause and rewind button. Oh, if only...

Yesterday was another “chill” day for us which was pretty much unusual but I’m thankful nonetheless. I’d like to take as many free time as I can before I drown from acads as another wave of exams hit us. I was supposed to jog after class before Lally and I’s night out but ended up watching the audition of Med Sounds though we didn’t finish it anymore because I got hungry and craved for Mang Inasal. My cravings were sooo intense because I was on my period and I made a promise to Lally that after my period I’ll start dieting and running again. We then went back to my dorm by 8 PM to change clothes before heading out for another drinking session but this time with Mark and Yani. It was our first time hanging out with Mark but he seems like a friendly guy who you can easily be friends with. Since Lally knew she couldn’t handle going home whenever she goes out to drink, she informed me beforehand she’ll sleepover at my place so I sneaked her in to my dorm and took care of her. Yup, the roles have reversed, lol. I slept later than her but we were able to go to class on time before the lecture started. Though we had a difficult time fighting of sleepiness...

Years ago, I wouldn’t imagine myself going out and drinking this much but just to clear it out, I’m not the “wild” type. I have control and I know my limits. I make sure I stay sober and that I’m with people I trust if ever I do get super drunk. But for drinking two nights in a row- cocktail on the first night and beer on the second, I am proud to say that I did not vomit nor feel a hint of dizziness during those nights. I absolutely believe I have high tolerance and I want to thank my genes for that! We don’t want to be that sabog friend during drinking sessions, lol. All I’m saying is don’t forget to have fun and loosen up from time to time but be responsible enough to know when to stop! Especially with all the stressors med school is giving us, it’s important to make sure we don’t reach that point where we get burnt out and if we do, I hope we all have the luxury to have the right company and fun activities to do as we recharge ourselves before facing yet another challenging day as a medical student.

To more spontaneous and fun nights! 

[blandwriting]

It's been a long pause, where have I been? Mostly procrastinating at knowing how to be a functioning adult. Despite my flaws, characteristically I'm still very much the same. Major Depressive Disorder, a term to prescribe me antidepressants at a low yet effective amount to keep my anxiety at bay. Effexor XR, Side effects include loss of appetite, drowsiness, blurred vision, fatigue, dry mouth, nausea, sweaty palms, leg tremors, insomnia; I guess the cure and the ailment are one in the same. I'm functioning now at a rate where I feel almost numb enough to feel sufficed by my less than mediocre existence. Thirty years old, greying hair and pubes, a long list of non established idea's that never got off the ground. Financial freedom.... We just reinstated a credit card due to the pandemic taking away our wage and making us less than satisfactory to pay for our fancy Meriton apartment in Mascot. Paces ahead but still trailing behind. I always find myself romanticising life.... Looking for the hidden posies in the mess. No wonder my outlook had degraded to catatonic self destructive seeking missile. I was hit by a car and rolled up onto the dash.... fell to the ground miraculously leaving unscathed only bruised and badly shaken... although the longing for greater injuries if not death was the only thing I could fixate on. Why was I so depressed... why was I so unnerved at my miraculous and somewhat outstanding ability to survive a car driving directly into my right leg without so much as even breaking a bone? I flew over the top of the bonnet and rolled down onto the wet and unforgiving bitumen with nothing more than a manic episode. It opened up a huge sinkhole.... the medication was the only thing stopping me from taking my own life. I cared for nothing. I've had a lot of sobering moments in my short by well worn life. But sitting across from my doctor with tear stained cheeks, quivering bottom lip and shaking hands, I'd spent the last three days just scream crying every moment I had left with my swelling thoughts of self harm and suicide. I simply no longer wished to live.... My doctor worried expression painted across her face sat there and listened to me, as my emotions heightened and I cried out that I was fine... everyone said I was fine... so if I'm fine then why do I no longer want to live... Something has to change... I'm exhausted.... I simply no longer wish to exist, I am meaningless and broken I'm discarded and used, People whom only benefit from myself keep me around I am not loved, I never had been unconditionally loved. She sat there mouth agape... "Krystal..." I looked up to her, With what I can only imagine would have been one of the most pained looks I've ever given another person... " You're not going to kill yourself are you?..." she said furrowing her brows at me with a downturned expression, I looked to the right with my lips pressed into a straight line, rubbing the edge of my thumb nails to the underside of my thumbs, swapping them back and forth, as I looked to my left avoiding eye contact but ruminating on how I felt... softly I let out " I don't know anymore". She reached her hand across the table and asked for my left arm as my right was rendered useless by the bruising. I handed her my hand, hers warm the warmest hand I've felt in a long time, " If you kill yourself Krystal I'll be very angry with you, It will hurt everyone you love, You make me laugh everytime you come in, there are so many other choices".

In that moment I looked at her, I knew I couldn't do it, I'd been held accountable. My heart swollen she wrote me a prescription and I'd left that office with a follow up appointment booked, before I walked out of her room I asked her for a hug, In that moment I felt loved, truly loved with an unbiased heart, She literally didn't have to at all, but I just so needed a hug without answers without question, I just needed that in that moment. To feel loved.

This is the thing, loved. A feeling every human being on the face of the planet longs for a feeling of complete and total acceptance. That is all I've ever been looking for, to feel accepted. I grew up in an unconventional yet familiar family story, My mother freshly 18 two weeks out of the legal boom gates, and my Father turned 22 an hour and fourteen minutes after I was born, It was the typical Australian 1991 period, Still heavily influenced by Christianity, My mum was placed in a separate wing from the other mothers who were Married or accounted for, She and dad were on-again off-again young lovers with a fiery relationship built on jealousy drama and pure attraction, I came into the world on a Monday, it was Mercury retrograde, need I say more. Mum didn't have a lot of money or a stable household at that time, she was living in-between homes, Momentarily we lived in the garage out the back of her mothers house, a red back spider infested ex photography studio and teenager hangout spot, They had a tumultuous relationship themselves, That's the difficulty with family scars, My father from memory lived in a share house with friends, he and his parent's also from a not so forgiving background, both of my parents were dragged up I wouldn't really say either had the golden childhood either of them really deserved, two seperate sides of two different coins, but both resulting in the universal fate of their meeting and my existence. It wasn't long and without shock before my parent's broke up. My dad wasn't ready for fatherhood, he was still drinking and fighting and doing whatever he wanted to do, and mum a young mother had taken on the role of responsibility with a bit more of a stiff upper lip, Rightfully so. He and she were again on and off again for the most of my formidable years, I remember my mum writing notes on a phone pad, back when corded phones were a thing and you were stuck in one place, She'd write his name with hearts and little doodles, I also remember her agonising cries when they'd broken up. It wasn't unusual for Mum to drop me at dad's and for he to leave me with his latest fling and I'd give them hell while he went out stalking down Mum wherever she was. I remember the arguments and my dad's alcohol induced rages towards mum. He showing up to our cottage at random hours banging on the doors and window's to be let in, I remember being dragged out of bed at 2-3-4 am to be placed in a cold Torana to drive around because he was in a violent frenzy smashing every valuable mum had collected on her very small wage she was earning working at a pub to support us, to give me all she could. He'd come in and ruin everything, our tables our chairs the television he'd smash her beds up throw the kitchen around smash the dining tables and chairs, a violent and unstoppable force, and then just like a hurricane he would dissipate and we would rebuild; I don't know how my mother did it, that man didn't even pay the child support he was owing, how do I know this as an adult I went into my centrelink history and saw all of the unpaid arrears.... funny that.

Due to my home life being so far from average or normal I really focused on my imagination, I was plagued with nightmares and an extreme amount of anxiety.... But we didn't really know or talk about mental health in children back then... So I just played with our cats and dogs, singing on the swing alone or annoying our Landlord who owned a sign writing shop out the front, I'd collect snails or grab my dog and escape to the hair salon out on the main road our cottage was behind. The creativity really appealed to me, it gave me an escape from an otherwise crippling existence even for a small child, I was so loved and my mum did everything she could to prove that so, but I just felt so conditional.... I think even as a small child below the age of five I knew that my mothers life would be different if I didn't exist... At school there were rumours around about my family so obviously the children were biased based upon their parents opinions even as early as preschool mum and I faced adversity... I was an outcast from a poor family going to a Lutheran preschool in an affluent area, my mum showing up in a Commodore to drop me off, young and beautiful, I found it difficult to make friends, although I had one best friend but she ended out going to the adjoining Primary school and I were to be moved to the state school three doors down from our cottage.

When I started at my primary school there was 27 students from year 1 to year 7, there were Three educators, Miss S was year 1 - 3, Mrs B was mathematics and science and the Principal Mr F educated year 4-7. I'd made some friends but I was a little off-beat and bossy and a real stickler for the rules so I was always telling on everyone, I wasn't overly athletic or smart, I was more interested in writing or talking or reading than really doing any actual school work. I remember vividly being in trouble for talking while we were doing maths which I still very much struggle with today.... But I ended out being put in time out and I sat there and thought I'd counted to a thousand... because I was entirely bored.... Miss S walked past and I told her " Miss S I counted to a thousand". She looked down at me and said " No you didn't, You silly girl you don't know how to... now be quiet". I'm still cut about that... Mole.

There were many times in those years I was subjected to questionable people and activities many in which I know for sure, No child of mine is ever having sleepovers at their friends houses.... and I mean it. I was socially under developed and preferred the company of adults to children... I didn't fit in with kids my age and the ones I was socialised with were little sicko's with weird parents...

Surprisingly my parent's got back together when I was around age 7 or 8... My dad was working overseas and for some reason mum and he decided to get married by this point my mum had my first younger brother and She and Dad got married...... even that day was a flop for my poor Mum... he ended out going on a four day drinking binge with his friends and mum was left to clean up the mess of the wedding after party and retire home alone. Romantic right?.... I love and adore each one of my four younger brothers and I am so thankful for their existence they’re all individually wonderful and loving and kind i just find it difficult to sometimes sit there and think about how different my mum’s life could have been... had none of us existed.... although I am grateful sometimes for existence I just wish that my dad had dealt with his demons and maybe had gotten some help, flash forward a few years and dad ended up in rehab for six weeks during that time he’d seen mental health professionals but nothing came from it... he just decided to not take his Zoloft because “he hates feeling happy” He for some reason needs aggression which for me is something I just cannot simply understand, now as an adult I recognise my parents have their own issues their own histories and past just as we all do, but it’s one of those things where when I was younger and learning about the world my perception wasn’t of that but only of a lack of unconditional love, now as an adult I’ll do upmost anything to prevent being like my father, so when offered the help I took it... there weren’t other options in that moment for me to be functioning... I just hope I made the right choice.

As a teenager I experienced the usual laziness,  my household was filled with children and crying and new borns the precession of another brother came closely after the first was born and mum was dealing with a “hyperactive” toddler and a newborn and myself now a pre-teen.... I’d moved school’s by this point but realistically speaking and I’ll cut it fairly short, I never really fit in with anyone or anything.... Without being academically gifted or Athletically gifted... my value wasn’t highly ranked... I spent most of my lunch breaks playing Chinese checkers in the library or reading books, I loved books and Encyclopedia’s, hyper-fixating on certain topics and being drawn to the mystics and paranormal.. I would spend hours pouring over pages within books my Aunties had gifted me for Birthday’s or Christmas’s. I feel like my time filled within that school was also darkened by my own inability to behave like a “normal person” I don’t know if at the age of ten I was acutely aware at all about my inability to fit in... all i know is getting choked out at lunch time and ran away from wasn’t the best...

I’ll continue the story later.

[thepursuitofunderstanding]

February 2/2021

I seem to be feeling rather small this morning: empty and unfit. I’m really not sure if we’ll be able to cover much ground together. But, alas, we shall see. Maybe I need to finish that essay by Nietzsche, he certainly does seem to know how to comfort... What does it say of me that I turn to Nietzsche for comfort? Why am I always so consumed with trying to find, and emphasize, any hint of “special-ness” within/ to? I loathe how I am with people these days. I feel like they don’t see me (which isn’t exactly a new feeling) but I’ve lost any desire to help them see. I used to be able to hide or restrain my truest being, that is, how I exist to and in myself, but now I seem to be losing the capacity to do this. Perhaps that energy is being used elsewhere now? All I know is that I either come off as a self-obsessed cocky asshole or I lapse into a contemplative silence. There seems to be no in-between for me anymore. I don’t know that to make of that--what to make of myself.

I feel like I’m going insane: like my sanity is slowly receding and all I can do is watch it leave from the shore. Will it ever be back? How far out can it recede before...before what exactly? What could happen here? I mean, potentially, from what I’ve glimpsed of myself personally and what I’ve discerned of others, I’m facing the very real possibility of losing all of my cognitive/conceptual grips and essentially just free-falling through myself. Which, I’ll admit, does fill me with ample amounts of curiosity: what might an uncontrolled and unrestrained free-call through oneself be like? But, alas, I also recognize that there is the possibility that I’ll never be able to come back from such a free-fall through myself. When I conceive of this “fall” I imagine it somewhere along the lines of what Pirsig describes in his Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance; mixed in with a bit of Nietzsche too. And perhaps even some Kierkegaard and Plath. There certainly does seem to be something said in the fact that I am most drawn to those thinkers/Beings who have a rather shaky grasp on/of sanity themselves. They make me feel, well, a little bit less lonely. And God, do I ever get lonely sometimes. All that space within me, the space that I have the potential to fall through, or explore and map--it downright aches with loneliness at times. It gets to the point where I feel like nothing more than a walking well of loneliness. But this loneliness doesn’t seem to be for a person exactly, not for some human presence even... I’m not sure what the aching loneliness within me aches for, nothing I’ve yet encountered in life seems to quell it; the most that I can hope for is a distraction for awhile. But the rumblings of this cavernously aching loneliness always comes back.--The rumblings of the darkness? The abyss of loneliness? 

Is it that which might swallow me up one day? That which I will free-fall through? Remembering Nietzsche’s quote that if one “gazes into the abyss long enough, the abyss will gaze into you.” I’ve spent most of my life skirting the edge of my? the? abyss. Always intimately aware of its presence. Sometimes going and throwing my legs over its edge to sit and gaze into it; sometimes turning my back and doing everything in my power to forget its cavernous existence. Forgetting, I’ve found, is impossible, any attempt at distraction inevitably fails: one always sobers up, the sex always ends, the laughter always dies away, and there I am again--alone with the abyss. 

Alone with the abyss.

My abyss? 

For the thundering that echoes out of the it, even the whispering, seems to be most personalized. It seems to know exactly what to call out to draw me closer. It knows just exactly where to press me, it is me. A me that... A piece of me that... what? A piece of me that I must (will?) inevitably leap into one day? I think so... I think that I’ve always known such would have to happen one day. The only question open to me: will I choose to leap or will it drag me down into its depth of its own accord? Will I ever have the strength/bravery to face it head on, to face its magnificent destruction and leap? I don’t know the answer to that one... I suppose that there’s only one way to find out. But not yet, I’m not ready yet, I do know that much. Especially since I don’t even know how to make such a leap yet. For it must be a leap, I can’t simply fall into the abyss. I’ve done that before and I always seem to get caught on some ledge just below its lip. This has probably been what has saved my life thus far. For those ledges allowed me to drag myself up and out again. After a thoroughly shattering time spent with the abyss whispering all around me, it seeming to know that I had descended closer in to its grasp. But something always managed to push me to never stop reaching up and climbing out, back to “safety”. 

This leads me to wonder, if I associate God with the sun, that is, that which sheds light upon Being and makes Being possible, what is this abyss? Can it be God as well? The sun being God’s creative manifestation and the abyss being the destructive counterpart? 

I suppose that this is why people have jobs and families and shit--to keep them away from the (edge of the) abyss. To provide them with some sort of grasp, some sort of something to deter them from gazing too long into the abyss. And perhaps its only us that gaze too long into the abyss that ever (seriously) consider leaping into it. I reckon so. It seems that while many people might detect, on occasion, the immense shadowy nature of the abyss echoing out to them, they never turn their attention to it long enough to really notice it, to actually see it. Which is fair. Why turn towards that intangible darkness that so threatens to devour one? Every survival instinct that we have screams against doing such a thing. So what the fuck happened to my survival instinct? Why do I feel so compelled to gaze into that devouring abyss? It feels like I never even got a choice in the matter; I’ve never not been intimately connected with the abyss. I has always been my anchoring point, the context by which I explore and map out every other facet of my Being. It is my primary reference point, it is that which defines every other movement that I make: even when exalted and scaling the tallest mountain peaks, I always look back to that gaping darkness--it is my native land. It is that which gives meaning to every move that I make, every step that I take...How does that make sense? 

It doesn’t. And ye I know it to be true. I can wander as far away from it as I want and yet I know that I will always return to dwell at its edge. I’m drawn to it. There’s a magnetism there that I’m powerless to change or even ignore. It will always drag me back to it. Or I can walk back willingly when it calls to me. These, and only these, are my options--I can’t disobey its call. I can do no other, I will never be able to do anything other. For some reason I’m not like them. I will never have a life like theirs. It’s never been a possibility for me and it never will be. This is both my greatest blessing and my most devastating curse. For, I cannot feel the rays of the sun without an equal proportion of chill from the shadowy abyss. I cannot have one without the other--they are what make each other possible. They accentuate each other. 

I don’t know why they--the sun and the abyss--should be so incredibly vibrant in/for me, all I know is that they are. But at least I do not seem to be alone in the intensity of my affliction. And this is why I read: I’m desperately attempting to understand how to live with this affliction of mine. The affliction of... life too intensely felt? I’m not exactly sure how to define this affliction yet, but it does seem to be one that many artists experience. The true, individual artist that is. Not the artists of imitation; the artists of imitation create art for a different reason than those of us who must create art in order to just survive. The individual artists very life depends upon the creation of art. It is how our soul breaths. Without it we suffocate... The abyss would swallow us up? Or, perhaps, we would willingly offer ourselves up to its grasp? But it is our capacity to explore and express ourselves is that which allows us to evade its grasp... for awhile at least? I’m not sure... Must every individual artist eventually leap into the abyss or is that only a requirement of a particular subset of us? Those that...well, I was going to say those of us that have a less firm grasp on/of sanity. But couldn’t it be said that every artist has a rather tentative grasp on/of (their) sanity already? That is tentative grasp is exactly what makes them an Individual artist in the first place? (Also, is it redundant to say individual artist? Is every true individual not some sort of artist in their own regard? Even if their only act of creation is their own individual life? That is, the individual separates his or herself from the herd and actively engages in a conscious creation of life that recognizes and affirms their individuality.)

I feel most alive, most myself, when I sit here--alone-- with you. This is both my blessing and my curse. This will never not be the case for me; this is my life: to live it will kill me, to not live it, to attempt to evade it, will kill me even faster. These are the conditions of my existence. I am beginning to understand this very clearly. It is also becoming very clear to me that these are things that I will probably never be able to speak about with anyone other than you. My only true companions will be those that I encounter between the covers of books. 

I wonder, does Katrin experience anything like this? Will I ever get close enough to her to ask? What even is this?: the overwhelming awareness that one must walk a certain path/live a certain way or not live at all. This makes me question my freedom. Some could perhaps say that I have none. My life essentially consists of two--and only two--paths/ways of living. But that’s not how I see it: for I do have the freedom to choose between these two paths. The choice is there, I just know which path I’ll take. Plus, it could be pointed out that the other path, the one that I’m not taking, has infinite variations. They might all be superficial variations, but they are variations, requiring choice, all the same. 

It’s hard to express: the knowledge that I do have a choice interwoven with the understanding that I never had a choice. It’s a contradiction at the heart of my very Being, a contradiction that I live every single day; a contradiction that I embody and act out in the world. I wonder, does the embodiment of this contradiction have anything to do with my relinquishing of sanity? Or, perhaps, because the embodiment of contradiction seems to be an integral part of the human condition, it is only the awareness of this contradiction that brings about the relinquishing of my sanity? The latter seems more probable to me, I’m certainly not the only one living a contradiction. But what the fuck do I know? I’m just some girl who sits in her parent’s basement, drinks a lot of coffee and writes and writes and writes. Some would say that this isn’t life at all--it’s insanity: it’s a caving in on oneself; a crawling inside of one’s self. And maybe they’re right, these some who might say this. But living their way doesn’t seem like living at all to me. It seems merely like killing time--pawning oneself off until death finally comes to collect them. I can’t do it. So I sit alone in my parent’s basement with my books and my coffee and I write and write and write and write. I attempt to learn how to navigate by the sun and decipher the whispering echoes of the abyss. I wander alone, every artist that I encounter serving as my only guides. It’s a lonely existence, that much I’ll admit. But not nearly as lonely as pawning oneself off to the world. At least I still have my self for company. And the sun’s rays and the abyss’ whispering. Sometimes they don’t exactly make for the best company, sometimes my self doesn’t either, but alas, this is all I have. Is there anything more? I have no idea, not even a guess. Who am I to attempt to predict/hypothesize about such things? I can’t comprehend the structure of Being. I’m not even sure that there is a structure of/to Being. 

I feel just as empty and cavernous as when I first opened you up this morning. But I no longer feels as... nervous?/resentful?/scared?/weak about it. This is just how it is for me after all. 

I’m dizzy of/with my Being.

[conflictcrafter]

The Humanity of Lord of War

when you make an artwork, you have to figure out your role. being the maker of something is the surface role. and it is necessary. the next step is to pick a shovel and dig. or mine.

we do not determine roles for the heck of it. we do it because it is both the goal and the core. the goal, the core, and the means should align. and when things are in order, beauty emerges, organically, even when the surface looks chaotic.

I.

Andrew Niccol knew what his roles are in Lord of War. one of them is to explore an inquiry: what does it mean to be human?

this question has been explored in many punk films. Ridley Scott and Philip K Dick's Blade Runner films comes to mind. George Miller has also examined the question specially well in the recent Mad Max: Fury Road. these films put humanity in future punks, in a certain point in post-humanity, to hammer the question down.

Lord of War doesnt play with punks (we can call it presentpunk though). the historical events and the political conditions depicted in the film still ring bells. theoretically, the question is easier to grasp since it's set categorically in the present. this film, again, is not a punk where this question of humanity is often explored. but this is why literature or film is so beautiful: narrative elements, in this case the setting, bare different ways to answer the same query. also, familiar settings may bring out the most outlandish of answers.

What does it mean to be human 1: Beware of The Dog

Yuri (Nick Cage), after making his first gun trade, approaches his younger brother Vitaly (Jared Leto) who cooks in their Jewish family restaurant. while Yuri convinces Vi to be his gun trade partner, Yuri notices a poster in the kitchen that says: Beware of The Dog. "We dont have a dog (also why you put that in the kitchen?)," said Yuri. to which Vi responded:

"To remind myself to beware of the dog in me. The dog in me who wants to fuck everything that moves, fight and kill weaker dogs. I guess it's a . . . to remind me to be more human."

halfway through the film, Vi succumbs into cocaine addiction due to Yuri's involvement in his life. it was as though the film was telling us that Vi is indeed a dog. running and fucking around.

but when Vi finally met "a girlfriend," he changes and leaves the cocaine. Yuri comes back into his life and convinces him again to be his partner. in a deal in Sierra Leone, Vi, now sober, witnessed the bloody effects of illegal gun trade to African civilians. 

in an effort to sabotage the deal and potentially save innocent people, Vi is able to blow half of the arms and is consequently killed by the warlords.

Vi dies a martyr. loyal dogs die as martyrs. martyrs transcend humanity.

What does it mean to be human 2: I Won’t Fail as a Human Being

Yuri returns home to his wife Ava Fontaine (Bridget Moynahan) who now knows about her husband's illegal gunrunning business.

Ava is informed by idealistic Interpol agent Jack Valentine (Ethan Hawke) of her husband's illegal arms activities. he reminds Ava that her parents were gunned by people who got their guns illegally from arms dealers like Yuri.

later that evening, Yuri comes home to a naked wife, unable to wear her silk sleeping dress, unable to lie on their bed, because to her, "Everything’s got blood on it."

she confronted Yuri and he finally confessed to his wife his real occupation. she tells Yuri to stop it since they have enough. but Yuri said he couldnt just quit because it isnt about the money. it is what he is good at.

Ava tells her husband that she "is a failed actress, a failed artist. But she doesnt fail to be human."

while Yuri feels that being human means getting one's dreams, having a lucrative lifestyle, proving to other humans that one is the best; for Ava though, humanity is as simple as not inflicting harm to other human beings.

What does it mean to be human 3: The Reptile Tail

after being confronted by Ava and Vi, Yuri finally decides to go legit. suddenly, he is not an arms dealer anymore, and he got agents confused.

this is the part of the film that youd wish the main character has truly changed, with all the things and relationships he has at stake, youd want the main character to change. Niccol teases us that, that narrative relief. but if you know how plot works, you know Yuri hasnt reached that ultimate fall.

so after going legit, he is pulled back into the arms dealing business by the self-proclaimed president of Liberia, Andre Baptise.

you would want to feel that Yuri would be doing it forcibly in fear for his family's safety. but no. when the scene with him and the Andre cuts, we hear Yuri:

"At four and a half months old, a human fetus has a reptile's tail—a remnant of our evolution. Maybe that is why I could't escape. You can fight a lot of enemies and survive. But if you fight your biology, you will always lose."

Yuri's biological mumbling here is based on the evolutionary development studies of Ernst Haeckel (1834-1919) which theorizes that embryonic stages of development reflect the previous adult evolutionary forms of the specie (ontogeny recapitulates phylogeny).

Yuri is basically saying that since humans were previously non-humans, reflected by having actual tails while developing in the womb, humans will always go back in to behaving as animals. and that we can never fight it.

Yuri is wrong. for starters, Haeckel's hypothesis, the Recapitulation Theory, is long defunct.

while embryos have "tails," this does not represent the evolutionary process of a specie.

we don't have embryonic tails because thats how we evolved. we just had tails. that's just it.

thus, we are not echoes of a long evolution of reptiles. and what Yuri is telling himself is merely a rationalization defense mechanism to justify his illegal arms dealing.

and it's completely human to rationalize immoral behavior.

in insisting biology and in exercising rationalization, Yuri has perfectly demonstrated the frailty of human beings: giving intellectual justifications to humans' animalistic tendencies. Yuri has satisfied the id in booming his ego.

but being human isnt only about rationalizing.

being human also means thinking about the welfare of other human beings.

Yuri has become, if not the best, one of the bests in illegal arms dealing. in essence, he has become a superpower in the trade. but Yuri, in Nietzsche's eyes is far from being an Ubermensch.

in Kant's eyes, Yuri has trampled the categorical imperative.

in our eyes, Yuri is not a hero.

and this is what makes him human: his acceptance of life's dramatic irony. he knows, he sees, he "appreciates" the negative implications of what he does, and what's coming. yet he still does it. he is helplessly and happily trapped like all of us.

II.

although we follow closely the life of Yuri, in a "story" perspective, it's Vitaly that ultimately follows the heroic arc. Vitaly is the proxy hero to Yuri, Yuri doesnt undergo metamorphosis. but Vitaly does.

hence the film is a character study of how a human being can become a monster: by allowing and being part of something that is systematically bad and irreversible.

Niccol illustrates the monstrosity of Yuri not by making the character violent. he ingeniously does it by portraying Yuri as a kind and generous person who often describes and treats the people who are really close to him well. he, in his monologues, talks a great deal about them in good terms. yet he never talks about himself in such way. in fact, he never talks about himself at all.

and this where NIccol's genius comes: he makes Yuri seamlessly not talk about himself because in truth, Yuri hates himself. and a monster is a monster is he hates himself.

in the end, nothing is solved. what wins is the human basal instinct to harm others and at the same time, be detached from it. more than a narrative work, the film is a challenge:

how much humanity are we willing to let go to feel human?

III.

the film has managed to be an artwork that also talks about important world issues. and if there is something that an artist should takeaway from the viewing, it should be seeing how art and function can go together neatly.

the only failure of the film, albeit minor, is despite the great research that the creative production team has gone through to parallel real events, it fell short in interpreting Interpol's function properly. Interpol doesnt at all conduct arrests.

aside from that, Lord of War is a solid 9/10 for its take on the question of humanity.

_____ non-film image sources in order of appearance:  1. https://image.slidesharecdn.com/defensemechanism-160520104849/95/defense-mechanism-40-638.jpg?cb=1463741864

2. https://i.pinimg.com/originals/30/22/3b/30223b65bc57c735199209472b57c0b3.jpg 

3. https://i.pinimg.com/originals/c0/16/e2/c016e21b69049ab2c7a02caa1bd9e24d.jpg