#one willingly gave up the criminal life to settle down

[sparrowwritings]

Day Fifteen: Kleptomaniac

Day Fourteen -- Masterpost -- Day Sixteen

Some adventure that takes place after Snow

“Alright, hand them over.”

“I dunno what you’re talking about.” Marosen responded immediately.

Salliento folded her arms and glared at him. “You mean you’re totally innocent of stealing various trinkets from the market we just passed through?”

“Yep.”

“The one that had merchants shouting curses at each other as we left?”

“Must’ve been some kinda feud.” He shrugged. “Can’t say I blame them.”

“And why not?”

Without really looking at the mage, the thief produced an amulet out of thin air. Not real magic, of course, but just as good for the average viewer. “At least one of them was selling fakes.”

“Maro!”

“It’s not such a big deal, they’ll lose out on some coin but it’s not gonna put them out of business.” Before Salli could snatch the stolen good from his hand, he’d already tossed it to his other one and hid it away similar to how he took it out in the first place. “People like that always have other ways to make money.”

She had that familiar look on her face that Maro associated with someone wanting to strangle him once outside of the public eye. Since the two of them were walking along the semi-populated streets of the town that their group had stopped in, this counted as being in public. When she’d had her moment, Salliento took a deep breath before letting it go. “That’s not the real reason why I’m…”

“Angry. Furious. Willing to kill me.” He helpfully provided.

With another glare, she continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “Upset at you.” She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Every time I think we’ve gotten past your compulsion to steal, you end up with more things in your pockets and everyone around us mad.” Salli moved her hand to glare again. “Just why do you do these things?”

There were a number of reasons he could think of off the top of his head. He’s been stealing to survive since he was a child and something like that didn’t wear off with a few months on the road. He had been the King of Thieves’ protégé up until they’d had that “disagreement” about Maro going (even slightly) on the straight and narrow. Between Amara’s bold straightforwardness, Kerakan’s quiet judgement, and Salliento’s stubborn leadership, someone had to be having fun sometimes.

None of those answers really fit the question that he’d been given, though, so Maro answered in a vague way instead. “I just feel like it, that’s all.”

Again, the mage seemed close to actually trying to hurt him. Without magic, even. “You…feel like stealing.”

Marosen gave her his widest, most annoying smile. “You’ve heard the stories they tell about us already. What’s the Four without their Thief?”

This time she did hit him. A smack to the arm counted as a win in his book. “You’re just lucky that Amara and Kera weren’t there to witness you stealing merchandise again.”

“He what?” A boisterous and deep female voice reached the two long before the warrior slid into view. Kerakan, the archer, came onto the scene soon after, disapproval written all over his elven face.

His grin was frozen on his face, though not out of mirth. “Guess you’re gonna find out what it’s like being the Three, then.” He muttered to the mage before he tried to flee. Maro didn’t end up getting very far before he was caught and forced to return all of his stolen goods.

[ellegreenwxy]

hey! i absolutely love your writing, and i was wondering if you would be interested in doing a one-shot of one of suresh and mcs old dates. he reminisces a lot about all these memories they share, and i can’t stop thinking about all the possibilities of their old dates. he sounds like he isn’t afraid to spend money on her to give her the best. like to take her out to travel or go to try something they have never done before.

(sorry for rambling this man has a chokehold on me) <3

hi anon!! thank you for the request and i hope you enjoy <3

and my waves meet your shore ever and evermore

suresh x mc | pre-villa | 3.3k+ words

Cass remained perched on the edge of the daybed, gripping onto her water bottle as if it were some sort of security blanket. She felt like she needed to have one permanently wrapped around her at all times now that she was living in the same Villa as the only man who’d ever broken her heart. But right now, sitting there and listening to him try and reassure her with those same sweet words she’d fallen for four years ago, she would have to settle for gripping the piece of plastic in her hands so she didn’t dig her nails into her thighs. 

Or his eye sockets.

“Whatever you’re thinking,” Suresh said, oblivious to the borderline criminal thoughts running through her head in that moment, “you know we had something amazing together. Flying in helicopters around Dubai, swimming in the Med, fine dining in Venice. Or that time in Budapest, getting frisky in Roman Baths…” His voice trailed off and she could see that look in his eyes, that one he always got when they embarked on a new trip.

“I know I hurt you. But we could have that life again.”

–––––§–––––

The little blue car crept its way up the side of the mountain, slowly but surely. She gripped Suresh’s hand, grateful that he’d let her sit on the right side of the backseat, her eyes fixed on the rocky mountainside rather than the city spread out miles below them. She hated heights. Okay, not all heights if their helicopter ride in Dubai had been anything to go off of, but she hated the idea of sitting in a teeny little car, driving down a road they barely fit on. On a mountain. A very tall mountain.

“Not much longer,” he said, and she could hear the amusement in his voice though he still gave her hand a firm squeeze. It calmed her, somewhat, knowing he was there next to her, that he would probably jump out of the car willingly before putting her in any sort of even slightly precarious situation. She was able to loosen her grip on his hand (only a little) at the thought. 

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed before the car finally––thankfully––slowed to a stop. Cass looked out the window and saw a two-story home, vines creeping up the front and sides, encasing the sun-kissed abode in varying shades of green. Suresh stepped out of the vehicle and helped their driver collect their luggage from the trunk, speaking to him for a moment as Cass unbuckled and got out, taking in the building they would call home for the next week as the warm Italian sun beat down on her bare shoulders.

It looked like something out of a movie, the wrought-iron balconies positioned on the second floor like a fairytale waiting to happen. A small table and matching chairs were situated out front, and already she saw them sipping coffee there early in the morning, enjoying the breeze from the sea before it brought the afternoon heat to the shore. She felt a gentle hand on her back and she looked up at Suresh, his warm smile tugging at her heartstrings.

“Want to go inside and get settled?” he asked, and she nodded, walking with him into the home where the inside was just as beautiful as the outside. The kitchen was tiled in vibrant blues and cool whites, the living room decorated with flowery art and navy blue furniture she couldn’t wait to sink into at the end of every night, wine in hand as they talked about what they’d done that day. She found the bedroom upstairs, the large, four-poster canopy bed looking oh-so-inviting after their long travel day, the white bedding glowing softly in the sunlight.

There were two reading chairs positioned towards the balcony, the doors to it closed though she could still see the sea even from where she stood in the room’s open doorway. She made her way through the room to the french doors, propping them open to allow the cool breeze to sweep its way through the space, carrying the smell of saltwater and lemons from the grove near their house with it. 

Cass heard the soft thud of their suitcases being sat down as she stepped out onto the balcony before Suresh came up behind her once more, sliding his arms around her midsection. His lips brushed the column of her throat and she could feel him smiling against her skin. “It’s beautiful out here,” he said, and she simply nodded, allowing herself to lean back against him. From where they stood they could see the beach and the sparkling blue ocean that stretched out before them, clear and dazzling like there were millions of tiny diamonds floating across the water.

“I figured we could rest up today, maybe go out and explore a bit later around dinner, but tomorrow…” His voice trailed off and she turned as much as she could in his arms, looking up at him. 

“What’s tomorrow?”

“You’ll have to wait and see. But just know that you’re going to love it, I promise,” Suresh said, and she smiled. She normally hated surprises, no matter how big or small. And, judging by the look on his face, she had to imagine that this was no small surprise. But, even though she’d always hated them, she’d come to love them because of him. Or rather, she loved them when he was the one doing them. Every surprise was so perfectly planned, usually based on some offhand remark she didn’t even remember making but he remembered it because that was Suresh.

Their entire relationship had been him surprising her at every turn, showing her a world she had grown up wishing she could be a part of, but had never had the money to do it. He never let her feel bad about the money he spent on her, either. And he didn’t ever make her feel as if she owed him anything when he took her on these extravagant trips or to restaurants where a bottle of wine was the same price as an entire month’s rent at her old flat. He just did it because he wanted to do it.

“I can’t wait to see it,” she said, before she untangled herself from him and made her way back into the bedroom, falling onto the bed, the soft mattress enveloping her like a warm hug. “God, this bed is like a cloud,” she murmured as she stretched out on the surface of it. She felt it dip on one side and she turned her head to see Suresh laid out on his side next to her, his head propped up on his hand as he looked at her, so much adoration in his eyes she thought her heart would melt.

“How about you get some rest? I can start unpacking and then I’ll wake you up when it’s time to get ready for dinner. Sound good?” he asked, and she nodded, closing her eyes as his lips brushed over her forehead before he got up and got to work unzipping their suitcases, carefully putting her clothes away. The sound of him humming as he worked along with the ocean breeze helped to lull her off to the most relaxed sleep she’d had in ages…

Cass woke up to Suresh talking softly, and she rubbed at her eyes as she sat up in bed, finding him seated in one of the chairs positioned towards the balcony, holding his cellphone to his ear. She got out of bed and padded across the tiled floor to where he sat, resting her hands on his shoulders. His free hand came up to hold her own, his thumb running tenderly over the back of it. “Mhm…I think that’s the right move. Yeah, just tell her to go ahead and move forward with the contract signing. Okay…great. All right, yes, I’ll go over it as soon as I’m back. Okay…bye,” he said before he hung up, placing the phone on the table sitting between the two chairs. 

He tugged her around until she was standing in front of him, pulling her into his lap a moment later. “Everything okay?” Cass asked, combing her fingers through his hair, and he nodded. 

“Everything’s great, love. One of our new clients has been working on this merger for ages and it sounds like it’s finally going to go through. Could mean a big bonus for me and another trip for us,” he said, catching her lips in a soft kiss. He was always thinking about the next trip, or the next nice dinner. It was just how Suresh was, always looking to do something exciting and new and adventurous. “I was just about to wake you up for dinner. The place isn’t too far from here so we can take a nice walk there, enjoy the sights.”

“Sounds perfect,” she agreed. “I’ll go get ready.”

Considering how warm it was outside, Cass opted for light makeup and swept her hair into an updo, a few strands of chocolate brown hair framing her face the way she knew Suresh loved. She’d decided to wear one of the pieces he’d bought her for the trip, a white, strapless, linen jumpsuit that managed to be light and breathable while still clinging close enough to hug the soft curves of her body. She had to admit, it looked impeccable on her. Suresh certainly had a knack for buying clothes, she’d learned.

When she descended the stairs into the living room where he’d been waiting for her to finish up, he broke out into a broad smile that sent butterflies fluttering about in her stomach. “Wow. God, love, that looks stunning on you,” he told her as he rose to his feet. Green eyes ran over her, sending a bit of a shiver through her. It was like he was devouring her with them, though she knew the real devouring would be happening when they got home from dinner…

“Gorgeous,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to her lips before he took her hand in his own, walking her outside the front door of the house and down the sloping hillside. She was grateful she’d decided on sandals, knowing her heels wouldn’t have fared well on the cobbled streets which were busy with people leisurely making their way to dinner or to have a drink or to see a friend. That was one thing she loved the most about visiting other places in Europe, seeing how deeply they treasured simply relaxing. No one was ever in a rush, everyone taking their time to enjoy the day ahead of them.

They approached a small restaurant positioned on one of many hillsides overlooking the deep blue ocean. Suresh gave the host his name before the two were led to one of the tables on the balcony, the outdoor space covered with local flora and twinkling lights. Like their vacation house, it looked like something out of a film, so perfect she could hardly believe it was real. “Wow.” It was all she could say as Suresh pushed her chair in for her, taking the seat across from her.

“Beautiful, isn’t it? One of the other attorneys at the firm took his wife here when they came on their honeymoon a few years ago. Said it would be the perfect way to start our trip,” he said, and she could feel his eyes on her as she gazed out at the water, the lights from all of the homes on the mountainside reflected on the dark surface. 

“It’s stunning, Suresh. Really, it’s…wow.” It was typical for Cass to be speechless, but this time she was even more so. They’d seen some amazing things but this…she thought that maybe this might be the best thing she’d seen yet. And as she turned to look at him, the lights on the balcony dancing in his green eyes like stars, she was struck with the sudden thought that she wanted to see amazing things like this with him for the rest of her life.

It wasn’t a completely absurd thought. Since she and Suresh had moved in together a few months after their second anniversary, she’d been thinking about their relationship and their future in a more serious light. But the thought of forever with him had never fully formed in her mind until now, especially knowing that she was his first real girlfriend. That type of thing had scared her before, that idea of forever with a single person. But for some reason, the thought of forever with Suresh? It didn’t scare her. Not at all.

“What are you thinking about over there?” he asked, setting his menu aside to get a better look at her. 

“Nothing,” Cass said, reaching across the table to take his hand. “Just that I’m really happy to be here with you.”

Dinner was phenomenal, though she expected nothing less. They ate their weight in pasta and drank some of the best wine she’d ever had, all with that incredible view spread out before them. It was late when they finally stumbled back up the hill to their house, tipsy and full. And as soon as they were through the front door, eager hands found one another’s clothes, tugging at fabric that landed in little piles following them up the stairs to their bedroom like a trail…

Cass woke up to sunlight streaming in through the glass of the balcony doors, and she started to stretch before the arm slung around her stomach tightened around her, keeping her from moving. “Don’t want to get up yet, love,” Suresh mumbled into her neck, his breath warm on her bare skin.

“All right,” she said, reaching a hand up to run it through his silky hair. “Couple more minutes and then I want to go to the beach.” It was a gorgeous day outside, and since they’d arrived, Cass had been eager to get into that beautiful blue water. Swimming in the Med had been on her bucket list for years, and it was hard to believe she finally had the chance to do it. And the fact that she got to experience it with someone she loved? It was the icing on the cake, really.

They laid there together for a few moments longer before Suresh finally let go of her to stretch out, groaning softly. “Did you sleep okay?” he asked as he stood, grabbing his boxers up off of the floor, and Cass nodded.

“Like a baby,” she said, allowing her eyes to roam over his naked figure for a brief moment before she forced herself out of bed, heading over to the dresser to grab their swimsuits. She tossed him his swim trunks and she slid on her bikini, grabbing the white linen pants she’d brought as a coverup and pulling those on over the sage green two-piece. Once he was dressed in his black trunks, a white t-shirt thrown over his toned chest, they made their way down to the beach, hand-in-hand.

But instead of allowing her to drag him towards an empty spot in the sand, Suresh kept walking towards the docks where several yachts were situated out on the water. “Wait, where are we going? I want to get a good spot by the water,” Cass said, and she swore she saw Suresh smirk. It was that “I’m up to no good” smirk he wore whenever he was trying to be sneaky but she always saw right through it.

“Remember that surprise I mentioned yesterday?” he asked, looking down at her as they continued on down the beach. “Well…” Suddenly they came to a stop in front of one of those brilliant white yachts where they were greeted by a man in a captain’s uniform. He nodded at them both before gesturing towards the ship.

“Welcome to your yacht for the day,” he said, and Cass felt her jaw drop as she turned to look at Suresh.

“I know that you’ve always said swimming in the Med was on your bucket list. I wanted to make sure you had as perfect of a time as you deserve,” Suresh said, and Cass didn’t think she could love him more than she did at that moment.

They’d done a lot of extravagant things. Even the helicopters in Dubai had been more than she’d ever expected. But this? Knowing how much she’d wanted to see Italy, how she’d wanted to swim in the sea, and he did this for her to ensure it would be better than she’d ever dreamed it could be? How would she ever love someone as much as she loved him when he did things like this for her?

“This is amazing,” she whispered, and he leaned down, kissing her tenderly. 

“Come on, let’s climb aboard or whatever it is they say,” he said, grinning against her mouth, and she laughed, following him onto the ship. Not surprisingly, it was gorgeous. The captain gave them a tour of the space, everything from the sun deck to the dining room to the master suite that he’d assured them they were more than welcome to use, though Cass knew they’d be spending most of their time outside. Especially on that sun deck, which was rather large, with a beautiful round, white daybed for them to sunbathe on. They had their own bartender at their beck and call, and a chef to prepare them lunch and dinner. Suresh had really taken care of everything to make sure it would be a perfect experience for her.

“You know, the house was enough. You didn’t have to do all of this,” she said, gesturing to their surroundings, and he shook his head as he guided her over to the daybed, placing their bags on the ground next to it.

“I wanted to do this, love. Honestly,” he assured her, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. “As soon as you told me how much you wanted to go to Italy, I knew I wanted to do something big like this. I just…I don’t know, I wanted to do this for you because I think you deserve it.”

Cass could feel tears burning her eyes but she quickly blinked them away. She’d never had much growing up. Her mother had been a single mother and an artist. They’d barely scraped by just doing the bare minimum––just surviving. There hadn’t been money for vacations or fancy clothes or nice meals. This was a life she wasn’t used to and sometimes she wondered if she really did deserve it––if she really deserved Suresh––especially when he did things like this. But to hear him say that he thought she did deserve it…it meant more to her than she was sure he’d ever know.

“I love you so much,” she said, and he smiled.

“I love you too, baby.” He reached over and grabbed her hand, pressing a soft kiss to the back of it. “Now come on, how about we go for a swim, hm?”

As soon as the yacht was far enough out to sea, they leapt off of the ship together, hand-in-hand, crashing through the water she’d been dreaming about seeing for years. It enveloped her like a blanket, warm from the sun, and she was sure she could have stayed there forever like some kind of mermaid. And when they finally came up for air, gasping for breath and laughing, Cass knew she wanted this to be her forever. No matter what it took.

–––––§–––––

Cass felt a traitorous tears slide down her cheek, the memory of that day raw like an open wound. That had been the exact moment she’d decided she would propose to him, the moment she knew she wanted him forever. It had felt so perfect, like nothing in the world could have stolen her joy in that moment. 

But he had. He’d stolen away her joy. Her future. Her trust. Her faith that she was capable of loving someone and being loved by someone. 

“I don’t know if we can.”

[lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks]

A fluorescent green gaze pierced through him from the rearview mirror. As much as the eye contact sent chills down Dale's spine, he didn't want to look away. Some primal part of his brain was much more comfortable keeping his eyes firmly planted on the predator in the back seat of the police car.

"Why won't he leave?" Dale whispered to his partner, the woman grit her teeth.

"I don't know, but I'm not the idiot who decided to fucking arrest him." spat Whitney.

"I didn't think it would work!" Dale hissed. They were trying to be quiet, but he was certain the ghost boy could hear them clear as day, especially with the quiet of the late night streets. "I was just following protocol. We're not supposed to ignore criminal activity."

"The protocol," Whitney's knuckles tightened on the steering wheel as she circled the block for the third time. "Is to not fuck with the ghosts Dale. Especially that one."

She jerked her head roughly to the boy in the back seat, he was looking around the car and humming to himself, he didn't appear to be paying attention, but that didn't mean he wasn't listening.

"Look I just... we need to at least keep up appearances. We can't just let people think we aren't even trying."

"Yes! Yes we can!" Whitney snapped her mouth shut as her volume started to rise with frustration, she glanced nervously into the mirror and took a deep breath before continuing in a low tone. "We aren't paid to deal with this kind of bullshit, we radio it in and let a Fenton or a Guy in White deal with it."

"Okay I get it!" Dale ran a hand through his thinning hair. "I just... I feel so pathetic doing nothing when ghosts are just running around destroying public property-"

"Oh yeah no that's fine Dale that's a great reason to go and put handcuffs on the most powerful ghost in the fucking city." Whitney took the next turn a little too sharply, Dale felt himself lurch sideways, but the boy in the back hardly moved. It wasn't especially surprising given his usual disregard for the laws of physics.

As well as all the other laws that Officer Dale was supposed to be enforcing.

"I told you I didn't think he would actually come willingly." Dale whispered harshly, his voice containing just the barest hint of hysteria. "I just wanted to show him that we aren't total pushovers, I didn't expect it to go this far."

They circled the block once more as Dale checked the rearview mirror again. Phantom was playing with his handcuffs, jiggling the chain and twisting his hands around them. It was almost like he was trying wriggle his way out of them, Dale knew perfectly well that they were just ordinary handcuffs, and he could phase through them at any moment. Phantom had to know that too.

Whitney flicked her eyes between the mirror and the road.

"Asshole," the word was barely audible, Dale would have missed it had he not seen her lips move. "He's just doing this to fuck with us."

"Of course he is." Dale rubbed at his face tiredly. "He's probably got nothing better to do, maybe he'll leave if another ghost shows up?"

"And exactly how long do you expect us to go around in circles waiting for that to happen?" Whitney asked through gritted teeth. "This is getting fucking embarrassing."

"Maybe we should just take him in," Dale sighed in defeat. Whitney took another corner way too hard, jostling him roughly in his seat.

"I am NOT taking Phantom back for processing. They will NEVER let us live this down, and I am NOT becoming the joke of the precinct because YOU decided to be a god damn moron and arrest a fucking ghost."

Another sharp turn and the entrance to the city park flew by their windows again, Dale had lost count how many times they'd circled the block, but somehow he was certain that Phantom hadn't.

The little shit was enjoying this, why couldn't he just sneak into a movie theatre to get his kicks like a normal teenager?

Whitney growled and pulled the car into a complete stop, the wheels screeched and Dale let out a loud WHUFF as the inertia jerked him hard against his seatbelt.

His partner violently wrenched the door open and pulled herself out of the car, slamming the door shut behind her with far more force than was necessary.

Dale followed suit and looked over the roof of the car as Whitney pulled open the back passenger door and whistled sharply, pointing up and out into the sky.

"Go on, get. Ride's over, you've had your fun."

"Awww come oooon," Phantom whined, "I didn't even get to hear you use the siren!"

"Don't care, we're the police, not baby sitters. Go find some ghost cops to bother."

"The ghost cops aren't as fun," Phantom moaned, but he did as he was told and stepped out of the car. "You know, you guys shouldn't swear so much around minors, you're corrupting the youth!"

"I'll corrupt my foot up your ass if you don't get going." said Whitney, flatly. She put her hand out and Phantom effortlessly dropped the cuffs from his wrists and tossed them at her.

He pulled a face at her as she fumbled with the handcuffs, sticking out a very green tongue.

"I saw that young man!" Dale pointed at him from the other side of the car. "Don't let us catch you disrespecting an officer of the law again! Next time you won't get off with just a warning-"

"Dale! For the love of all that is holy shut your damn fool mouth!"

Phantom hopped backwards from the irate woman, his last few steps landing on empty air. He floated gently upwards with a shit eating grin on his face.

"Well this has been fun but I gotta head off, but thanks for the company! We should do it again some time, see you around!" He waved a casual salute and swung around, legs stretching out into a long swirling tail as he sped off into the sky.

Dale felt his knees shaking as he slipped back into the car. Whitney settled into her seat, hands steady as a rock as she belted herself up and started the car.

"That was terrifying." He gasped.

"And yet you still had to keep playing bad cop."

"I'm sorry it just slipped out! He's no different to any of the other punks we deal with around here. A wiseass with no respect for authority." Dale huffed and folded his arms, crossly.

"...He probably wasn't any different, before he died." Whitney said, quietly.

Dale didn't respond, letting the statement sit heavily between them as the car pulled away from the curb.

"I forget that sometimes, you know." said Dale. "This is the first time I've ever seen him up close and he... he really does just look like some kid. How do you think he... how do you think it happened?"

Whitney let out a deep breath as they completed their final lap around the block and headed in toward the city centre.

"I have no idea, and I'm pretty sure that's the kinda thing you can't ask." she paused for a moment, before continuing with a quiet pain in her voice. "He's so young."

"I wonder if his parents know," Dale mused sombrely, "That he's, you know, still around?"

"Who knows."

A car cut them off suddenly at an intersection.

"That was a red light." Dale announced.

The police car's lights flashed as the siren echoed through the empty streets, and Whitney slammed her foot down to catch up with the offending vehicle.

The conversation was over, but neither cop forgot about the incident, and neither could look at their city's hero and menace quite the same. Dale had gotten quite good at seeing ghosts as merely 'creatures', or 'monsters', things that were entirely Strange and Other. Being up close and personal with one had been a much needed reminder of what a ghost truly was.

And that ghost, the one messing around in the back of his car, was a boy. Just a boy. A boy who had a family, a boy who had a life, a boy who had died.

When Dale got home in the early hours of the morning, he hovered by his kids' bedroom, carefully easing the door open to look at their little sleeping faces. Just to make sure they were still there, right where he left them. Still breathing, still alive.

He knew there was a family out there somewhere, parents who had looked through their son's bedroom door and seen only cold, empty sheets.

Dale stepped very carefully over the spilt lego pieces on the floor, and gave his girls both a long, heartfelt kiss on their little heads, before going back to his own room to lay by his sleeping wife's side.

No, no he truly couldn't look at Phantom quite the same way, not anymore.

[tetsuroyaoyaoya]

“Uh... what the fuck is she doing here?” Taichi lazily turned his head to the side, in the direction his bandmate was facing. Despite pretty much everyone’s protests, their manager had decided to make the boys travel early, meaning it wasn’t even light outside yet and they were already preparing to board the tour bus.

However, at the sight of you, he perked up dramatically, a smile reaching his face as you waved over in greeting. Semi clearly wasn’t happy with your arrival, the scowl plastered on his pretty face making that painfully evident, but deep down you felt the satisfaction of annoying him, especially after everything he had put you through recently.

You clearly knew what you were in for, dressed in simple sweats and a t-shirt for the ride, a fluffy neck pillow adorning your shoulders. And even with the ungodly hour you had been summoned at, you still seemed as perky as ever; your usual smile decorating your face providing some sort of domino effect as the others began to relax at your demeanour.

“Good. You’re all here.” The boys’ manager popped up behind them from out of nowhere, making Semi jump as a hand was placed on his shoulder.

“Y/N? You sure you’re good to go?” Holding your hand to your head in mock salute, you giggled at the man.

“Yessir!” He smiled back at you before ushering you and the boys over the bus, helping you all place your bags in the back. As far as you knew, the majority of the band’s equipment was being transported separately and would arrive the day before the first concert.

Miyagi was a place you had tried to forget about, and yet had willingly accepted to join the band on a two-week trip there, where you were no doubt about to face a few demons from your past, no matter how much you didn’t want to.

You rolled your eyes as you caught Semi’s gaze, the singer attempting to muster up his most hateful glare, although, he couldn’t pretend that he was actually as bothered by your presence as he was trying to let on. It was just the only way that he could hide the excitement building in his chest at the thought of spending two entire weeks with you. Of course, he still had to apologise and make up for everything that he had put you through over the past few weeks, but he was sure that he’d have plenty of chances, seen as you couldn’t exactly run away from him in Miyagi.

It was easy for you to ignore him during the drive, seen as all three of the boys used the opportunity to catch up on the sleep they had missed by getting up so early, meaning that it was a very quiet four hours for you and their manager.

On the way, said manager gave you quick run-down of the schedules and events that the boys were taking part in, as well as the ones you needed to attend and the ones you needed to stay away from at all costs.

Apparently, the promoters had loved your idea of making a tour diary and tasked you with filming and editing the entire thing, meaning you needed to be at every show and interview. However, because of the scandal, interviews and press conferences weren’t the most ideal place for you to be, the risk of getting caught being the highest at events like that. Some other team members would get those clips for you, so you just needed footage from before, during, and after the actual concerts.

While you were elated at having something to do during your trip, it meant that you would have to be around the band a lot more than you had expected to be. It wasn’t the worst thing in the world; you needed to confront your fake boyfriend at some point, you just didn’t expect it to be so soon.

Thankfully, the drive didn’t seem as long as you had expected it to, and you were soon pulling up at the hotel you were to be staying in for the next two weeks. You were really only needed to help the boys settle into their rooms for today, meaning you had the rest of the day to yourself.

“Where are you off to, y/n?” Looking across the hall, you saw the boys walking out of their room, ready to head off to their sound check at the first venue.

“I have a date with a police officer while I’m here.” It wasn’t really a date, and Shirabu already knew about who you were going to meet, but it didn’t hurt to make a certain someone a little jealous while you had the opportunity.

“Are you a criminal now?” Giggling at Taichi as he wiggled his eyebrows at you, you shook your head.

“You don’t have to be a criminal to end up in handcuffs, Chi.” With a final exaggerated wink at the boy, you took your leave, not wanting to be late., leaving Semi practically vibrating in anger, catching Shirabu’s attention.

It was going to be a long sound check.

***

“Sawamura-san!” You waved over at your senior, as you approached, a bright smile decorating your face. It had been years since you had last seen him and the others, having been forced to move to Tokyo in your second year. While you had stayed in contact and made trips to see each other when you could, both of your lives were extremely busy, and it just got to the point where you couldn’t anymore.

“You know not to call me that y/n.” You giggled at the blush forming on his cheeks, already holding your arms up to hug him.

“So how have things been in Miyagi over the years?” The both of you fell into step beside each other, reminding you of the mornings spent walking to school together.

“Buy me a coffee and I might just tell you.”

***

“So you know people on the national team? Seriously? That’s so cool!” Life bustled around you, filling your senses with the welcomed aroma of the café. The man across from you chuckled at your excitement, having missed your bubbly personality.

“It’s a shame you never became Nekoma’s manager. You could have met us at Nationals.” With a sad smile, you shook your head.

“It was a rough time for me that year, I wouldn’t have been able to handle it.” He nodded in understanding, taking another sip of his drink.

“Speaking of which, I don’t think I ever watched your famous match against Shiratorizawa.” You watched his eyes twinkle at the memory, already preparing to give you the entire rundown of the match. You listened eagerly, having never lost your interest in volleyball, even if you never had time for it in the end.

It wasn’t until Sawamura pulled out his phone to show you the newspaper article that the realisation kicked in.

“Wait… is that…” A familiar head or silver hair stood out from the rest, Shiratorizawa’s number three catching your eye.

“You mean Semi Eita? He’s the lead singer of that band you like right? You never knew?” You stared at the picture with parted lips and wide eyes, having never even thought about asking the boys about their high school years.

“Look, there’s Shirabu Kenjiro, and Taichi Kawanishi as well.” He pointed the two boys out to you and there they were, clear as day on the picture.

“I heard that Shirabu replaced Semi as the main setter in his first year, so I’m surprised they were good enough friends to start a band together after high school.” All of a sudden, the unspoken tension between the two boys made perfect sense. You’d never dared asking about it in case it brought back any painful memories, but apparently it was common knowledge, something that apparently everyone except you knew about.

After the initial shock of the revelation wore off, the two of you continued your conversation, choosing to focus on something else other than high school for the remainder of your time together. However, soon it was time for Sawamura’s night shift at the station, and you really needed to get some rest after your early morning.

With one last goodbye, you parted, leaving you to walk back to the hotel alone. You chose to take the long way, revisiting the familiar streets of your hometown once again, having been away for maybe a bit too long this time.

The scenery hadn’t changed, and that was definitely the thing you were most grateful for. It had always been your favourite part of the town, having spent many a time getting distracted with the view on your way home from school, the evening sunset only emphasising the beauty of the greenery.

What should have been a twenty-minute walk ended up turning into over an hour, and it was almost dark by the time you approached the hotel. You passed a figure lent under a streetlight, your step faltering as you caught their face in your peripheral.

Slowly turning around, you gulped, a sudden fear in your heart that you hadn’t felt since you left Miyagi.

“Long time, no see, babygirl.” The man stepped into the light, fully illuminating the face you knew all too well.

“Yuuji…”

FIFTEEN - MIYAGI

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* updates every monday *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

ITS ACTUALLY MONDAY YAYA! I wrote this on a coffee high so please point out any errors if there are any and I'll fix them asap! :)

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[angloie]

Charms.

(1/?)

> Percy likes to deceive. Lie, manipulate, more lies; it was a part of his job, after all. Annabeth has been deceived. Lied to. Manipulated. She's an woman of many secrets- secrets she'd rather not let anyone know.

> Assassin! Percy x CEO! Annabeth.

> Warnings: Mostly angst + fluff, character death and some violence. Nothing too explicit. Mentions of blood/mild injuries as well as alcohol. (characters are aged up!)

pt. 2 || pt. 3 || pt. 4 || pt. 5

Percy's thumb rule was never do anything he didn't want.

To live a happy and healthy life, that was completely normal; especially for such a laid back guy like him.

Choosing this... rather wild career was something he wanted to do, willingly. Life was short, so why not make the most of it? It was getting awfully bleak with the normal civilian life. After all, no one would believe the nice young man who helped the old man carry the groceries to his car would be someone who killed for a living. A smile so bright that it could give the sun a run for its money and warm sea green eyes could hide so much more than just innocence.

The ceiling to floor windows of his penthouse showed a breathtaking view of the New York skyline, sun moving behind the tall buildings and moon replacing the orange hue. Being an assassin had its perks- despite endangering his life on multiple occasions. The pay was just out of this world. All that cash just to kill off some sleazy politician, or that one corrupt buisness man? Sign him up. Zero hesitation.

Percy frowned at the dried blood on his once pure white gloves. He was quick to peel them off. He shuddered at the unsightly view of a small stain of blood on his onyx-colored suit.

He would just buy a new one later. Small things like that didn't matter. Sure, that might've been a gift from one of his clients, but it wasn't anything he couldn't replace.

Hanging his coat on the rack beside the wide entrance, he sighed with clear tiredness. One night of forced politeness and smiles took a toll on him- Also due to the fact that he had just done his job as an assassin. It wasn't what you could call easy.

His muscles were aching and sore in all the worst places, every move throbbing with full pain. The shallow slash on his lower abdomen had soaked his shirt in a dark crimson red, most likely going to leave a bad stain. He would have to clean that later.

The penthouse was big and rather spacious. White Walls and abstract paintings lined them, reflecting off the almost pristine marble floors. It took a while for Percy to get settled in, it being a huge place and all that. But he soon made it feel like home with the help of old picture frames that held memories and the Nemo stuffed animals resting on the leather couch.

“WOOF!”

And Mrs. O'leary.

Mrs.O’leary- a huge, slobbering dog with thick black fur- bounded towards him in a frenzied greeting. She hopped up on her hind legs to lick his face, tail wagging at a unmatched speed. She barked again, this time more quieter.

“Yeah, yeah. It's nice to see you too.” Percy laughed as he tried to pull away. Once he went to the kitchen to grab a bone-shaped treat. “Who’s a good girl?” He cooed, tossing the snack in the air. Mrs.O’leary jumped up to snatch it before barking and padding away. Her tail still wagged with elation.

When Percy first moved here, it was quite nerve-racking. He'd heard that this place was an especially good spot for people like him- meaning people who did some illegal activity. Well, that was what he assumed. Percy was 99% sure that his neighbor just in the penthouse below him, (Leo was it?) had to be involved in some sketchy stuff. That creepy smile of his with a mysterious staining his shirt never meant any good. Or maybe when his other neighbor, had a odd looking duffel bag slung across his shoulder. Oddly human shaped, maybe. With a horrible smell of something rotting. Percy recalled introducing himself a Nico DiAngelo. A pretty reserved and quiet guy, usually having a frown of his face. Well, other than that time when he had his boyfriend over, a sunshiney guy with sun-kissed hair. He never got the chance to catch his name.

Wrapping a white cloth��around his wound, Percy's met with a sense of familiarity. Fixing his own injuries by himself. It would bee nice to have some help once in a while, but that would mean exposing him. He's definitely not ready to risk that.

Other than his boss and a couple of really close friends, no one knows about this. Percy nearly slipped up once- when a old companion from high school came over to visit, and his small arsenal of weapons were revealed. The little compartment hidden behind a painting. Not another word wasmsaid about it. Percy made up some half-assed excuse about auditioning for a movie so they were fakes.

It didn't take much of a expert, but the were far from fakes.

His phone rang from beside Percy, making him jolt in surprise. The contact name made him smile just the tiniest bit.

"Hey, mom," Percy began. "Why'd you call?"

"Can't your mom check up on you once in a while? How are you?" Sally beamed, cheerful voice on speaker mode.

He walked over to the bathroom where he stood in the full length mirror. A hint of blood seeped through the white bandage; now full wrapped. "Good. How's Paul and Estelle doing?" He asked.

"They're doing great! Me and your step dad went out with Estelle yesterday to see the movies." Sally smiled. "Estelle is growing into such a energetic ball of energy." She joked. "Just like you."

"Is that so?" Percy laughed, splashing his face with water. It felt cool on his skin, causing tiny pricks of coldness to pop up all over.

For a while, him and Sally conversed. She told him about her day (mostly gushing about Paul and Estelle) while Percy smiled and listened. He did his best to hide the fact that he'd been fixing up his wounds in silence. He cursed silently in pain when he touched an sensitive spot on the slash.

"Percy? Are you alright?" Sally asked in concern.

"Yeah! I just... hit my elbow. Its nothing. " He hastily replied.

"Okay," Sally exclaimed in relief. "By the way, when are you going to visit your old woman? Estelle misses you, you know."

"Yeah, well tell her I miss her too." A sense of gloom over took the conversation. "Look, I'm busy now but..." Percy looked over to the mirror again. "I'll call you later. Maybe I can visit you guys over there soon." He exhaled.

"We're looking forward to it! Isn't that right,             Estelle?" Sally gave the phone to the little girl who was jumping with excitement.

"Come over soon Perce!" She garbled. It sounded like she was eating something halfway.

"I will. Talk to you later, 'Kay?"

"'Kay!"

A wave of guilt overwashed Percy as soon as he ended the call. It was killing him inside, to not be honest with them about his real job. They just thought he was a simple marine biologist who got one hell of a promotion. Yeah, he wished. That seemed easier than killing for a living. He was going to tell them sooner or later. He just had to. Not today- not anytime soon, that is.

Jolting himself out of his thoughts, Percy's phone rang. He was quick to answer it. Was it Sally calling again? Percy put down the metal spoon he was holding, letting it rest in the pot of soup bubbling on the flat stove. 

“Hey, Percy!” The horribly familiar voice rang from the other side of the line. Percy grimaced.

“What is it?” He groaned.

“Is that any way to talk to your boss?” He tsked. “But I have news for you!”

“Do tell,” Percy muttered and went back to his soup. 

“I have a mission.” Apollo grinned widely. “You up for it?”

“Again? Didn't I just do one yesterday?” Percy rolled his eyes. He was tired; completely tired. Usually the missions weren't this close together- sometimes they could be even months apart.

“Yeah, but this one won't happen for a week or so. And it ain't just the typical mission.”

“Yeah? And what's that?”

“Its a info operation. Meaning-”

“I know what that means!” Percy interjected. “Just tell me the details already. I’m hungry.”

“Jeez, okay mr. grump. Annabeth Chase. You know her?” Apollo said, scoffing at Percy's tone.

“You mean the owner of that one architecture company? What about her?” He asked.

“She’s connected with Thalia Grace and Luke Castellan.” Appolo explained. “Apparently people have been talking about their new heist that they're planning. By what I've heard, it's going to be huge.” 

Those three names- Thalia Grace, Luke Castellan, Annabeth Chase. Annabeth especially, was the most well known in the regular world. Her being the stoic founder of Athchase as well as being a crazy rich and famous person, that's a no brainer. Luke and Thalia, on the other hand, their heists were well known anywhere. Annabeth didn't have a criminal record of any sorts. That's a big reason she can keep up her reputation. It's not like the woman did anything wrong, its just that... the fact that she is connected with the two is enough to ensure suspicion. Growing rumors of her planning some of their crimes were spreading fast. Percy's heard of things like that, her being the mastermind of killing and stealing.

“Alright," He nodded. "Im interested. Go on."

“New York. That's where the three plan to meet up. Get information, maybe use your charms into getting her to trust you."

"N-new york..!?" Percy was left shocked at that.

"I've booked a flight there. 5 in the morning sharp tomorrow. I reccomend you arrive on time." Apollo chuckled.

"Yeah, whatever."

"And Percy?" He called out.

"Hm?"

"You have my full permission to kill Annabeth when you're done." Apollo darkly said, hanging up without another word. Percy rolled his eyes for the tenth time on the call.

Well, all right.

Next destination: New York.

"So, New York, huh." Annabeth swirled some of her cocktail in the glass, circling her wrist in a rotation. The blue liquid swirled together in a repetitive motion. Sapphire Martini tasted rather bitter on her tounge, but decent nonetheless. She enjoyed the slight orange twist.

"Why here of all places?" She asked.

"Its a golden opportunity, dear Annie. The Olympians only gather once in a blue moon, so we're going to make the most out of this!" Thalia sipped from her own glass, some regular red wine. She'd never had such a taste for 'Those fancy rich drinks'. Whatever that meant.

The Olympians, as Thalia said before, were a group of 12 of some of the wealthiest and prestigious people from across the world. Only a few select people could be a part- it was exclusive as to anybody who was just normal as a couple million rich. New York would be holding a auction quite soon on a famous opera house; and surprise, they would be there.

"Don't call me that." Annabeth winced at the name. "And who exactly is we?"

"Don't go all acting like you didn't agree, alright? Plus, you can gain a thing or two from all this." She grinned.

"I have a company to run, Thals, You know very well that I dropped that type of business years ago." Annabeth shook her head. "This is seriously risky."

"But you love that. Don't you?" Thalia pressed, standing up.

She truly did. The thrill, the rush of energy you couldn't get anywhere else. Thats what had driven her to join Thalia and Luke in the first place. That feeling alone made her eyes sparkle with desire.

"Yeah." Annabeth places her drinkdown back on the glass table. "I do."

Okay I'm back with some more hot garbage!!! here's my latest thing-- a assassin au. I need to do a ship other than percabeth tho 😔😔

[cartoonfangirl1218]

Cards

So obviously set in S1. CaptainCanary. Enjoy.

Cards had kinda become a hobby between them, the ice breaker so to say. She had found out the most about him when they played cards and she revealed more about her life than she had thought she would to the coldhearted criminal.

Something about the soft, rhythmic shuffle of the pieces of paper, the silence that enveloped them, isolating them from each other yet in barrier together against the rest of the world. It was relaxing, no need for the constant babbling that Ray provided or the awkward comments. They could just think and observe. No pressure to make conversation. She hadn't expected to but it all started during gin rummy.

Se had been surveying her cards, picking which one to show her hand when she noticed a scar on the inside of Leonard's wrist.

She didn't mean to stare but Leonard noticed anyway. He was always so observant that way. Taking in his surroundings and calculating it to his advantage.

"Just a beer bottle" He said off-handedly like he was describing one of his prison beaks. "I was 5."

he said it very breezily and non chant but Sara could see by the way his forehead flattened just a bit that the scar bothered him.

She was aware of his past and his father and didn't bother prying anymore information out of it. It would ruin the mood besides his queen was going to get destroyed by her Aces.

The second time, she was the one who spoke about her time on the League of Shadows. It had been after returning from the fifties and she was sleepless. The years with Ra reminded her of when she first joined and the bloodlust and she just plagued her thoughts on her ability to be a hero. At least a reliable one.

Leonard had entered the kitchen at five in the morning, saw her staring at the table and brought out a deck of cards for poker.

They settled to the usual shuffling and calling out moves, and soon Sara started to pour out her feelings.

"It's just juts that everyone is so good! It annoys the shit out of me so much. I feel like I'm constantly struggling to live up to those standards. Even Arrow, he killed who knows how many people on the island, but at least he tries to fight the darkness. I...I gave up too easily, I just fell back to the League because it felt good. I always was bad and kinda selfish, you should hear the things I did when I was a teenager." Sara ranted

"Look who's talking" Leonard scoffed "I'm only here to steal the world's most famous jewels from across the timeline."

Sara snorted quietly under her breath. That hardly mattered, he was the criminal, he didn't know how hard it was to compare with a "pure and sweet and utterly adorkable" friends and older sister.

"But seriously, Sara. You're strong woman, I've seen it in the way you fight and in your actions. It's hard dealing with all the good people but us "bad guys" we're stronger than them. We know pain and we moved past it."

Sara almost dropped her cards. Where was the speech coming from, it sounded like poetry or some inspirational message for the AA group.

Sara managed to shut her mouth and give a small thanks.

They had played once more when Pilgrim came and they had to say goodbye to their family members and give them the amnesia pill. They had just dropped off Jax's dad back to his station, when Leonard pulled out his cards teasingly.

"Let's go to the control room" Sara said and they did

"So how did your dad go?" Leonard asked, setting up the flush game.

"Okay, it took him awhile to get used to the fact they we were from the future, and that alians did not take over the Earth. But I managed. How about you?"

"Good. Yeah, Lisa and I talked. Nothing big. She wouldn't let go of baby me, I think she wanted to take me home with her."

"Baby you was cute" Sara grinned

"Do you miss him? Your dad I mean."

Sara regarded that question thoughtfully, "Yeah I do. I've spent years without them and stuff but I do sometimes wish they would magically appear and give me advice sometimes" Sara shrugged. She had wished that twice already, she wanted to talk to Laurel so badly after Leonard said "My feelings for you" comment. It had caught her off-guarded and yes, she was pleased. But it was Leonard maybe he was just teasing and wanted to get a reaction out of her. Then again, that moment when they were huddled the warehouse, approaching possible death. Then too she wanted to contact Laurel and talk.

"Sometimes I think about how she's doing without me. I was relieved to hear she hadn't gotten herself into jail yet but she isn't staying home and knitting either. I think she's screwing that engineer kid. The one that's friends with Flash" Leonard scowled as he thought over all the things she could possibly be doing without his supervision.

Sara gave a small smile. It was sweet how much he cared for his sister, she wished she had more of that relationship with Laurel. Sure it was better now, but they could have been a little more lenient with each other's faults.

"There could be worse things" Sara merely replied, and frowned as she saw her cards get flushed.

It all came to head after Leonard's return.

It had been a busy few weeks, gathering the information, helping hi cope with dying but despite the pain at looking at him struggling to get back to what he was, she was still incredible relieved he was back.

They hadn't talked about what the kiss meant, but they both knew it was something more. She gave it willingly and without pity for his death but rather for doing his part for the mission.

"So Lance, wanna go get freaky in the 80s next. The retro 80s bars in Havana are quite killer if you're looking for a fight. I'm tired of the whole nurse routine their giving me out there" Leonard drawled, gesturing outside Sara's room

"Sure" Sara moved toward him, eye to eye and kissed him.

Leonard gave his signature smirk, and Sara smiled back.

"So did you see what I left for you?" he asked

"Left what?"

"Well since Rip kept saying that this might our last mission, people could die, etc etc. I left something in your sword case"

Sara's eyes widened and she rushed to open her sword case hidden in the back of her closet.

There was a pack of cards. His pack of cards.

"Very thoughtful. How about we play some now, then get freaky." Sara suggested, inside a warm feeling spread through her heart.

"Sure" He sat down beside her, and kissed her softy on the head.

years later, the two were lying on a casino table.

The club had been cleared out after Sara appeared with her knives and he with his cold gun. They locked the doors shut and had the whole place to themselves.

They went to the same bar as they had went in the seventies as a memorial for their fifth year anniversary as boyfriend and girlfriend.

They had been playing cards, but after Leonard accused her of cheating, and Sara challenged him to find her hidden cards, one thing led to another and well.. the casino was surprisingly comfortable for a sensual wrestling match.

"Found it" Leonard grinned as his hands unzipped the back of her dress, pulling out eight cards of aces.

"Well if I'm cheating than you've got to be bluffing" Sara put an exaggerated whine as she slipped her hands under his parka.

"What bluff?"

"The one where you said you'd give me the best game of my life" Sara licked the bottom of his lips

He stopped her words with a kiss and pushed the cards off the table.

[userarchive]

Unexpected Circumstances Ch 11

Warnings: Language, talk of the job/sex trafficking. A/N: Y’all this took a fcking WEEK to work through cause there was so much detailing to pay attention to. Sue me if things aren’t accurate/canon/whatever. I think it turned out okay enough?!

**

To say you were practically exhausted would nearly be an understatement at this point. Living undercover was never easy, but with it being the Christmas season simply made things worse, parties were larger, filled with more people you needed to document, the drugs and alcohol moved freely through them, you dealt with more suppliers than any other time of year. You’d finally made your way past Christmas day, relishing in a couple of days of relaxation. Alejandro ordered a feast of delicacies, mimosa’s with breakfast and far too expensive wine with dinner, gifting you with the diamond bracelet you so ‘obviously deserved’ over lunch. While you had to admit, living the high life was something you did sometimes miss from your childhood, you were more than happy knowing there were only six days until SVU would make the bust, only six bullshit parties until you’d finally be free from this specific hell.

It was the evening of the 26th, you’d wrapped up Christmas, the penthouse returning to its normal decoration, prepping for the New Years Eve party. You’d set up a number of rooms for clients and girls, the top wing where your and Alejandro’s rooms were clearly off limits, but you had security placed at the top of that staircase. You traipsed down the stairs, heels in your hand, hair curled loosely around your shoulders, blue dress hugging every inch of your body like no tomorrow. The log book tucked under your arm, a smirk on your lips as you met Alejandro’s gaze.

“You ready?” You asked at the base of the stairs, slipping your feet into the heels, “Should be an easy night.”

“I’m just waiting for the 31st Chiquita.” He replied. You gave him a soft smile, happily indulging into the food he’d ordered for the two of you, gratefully accepting the glass of champagne he poured for you.

Slowly over the next couple of hours the girls started to arrive, escorted by their pimps/madams, you were quick to baby them, reminding them that when they were in your house, they didn’t need to do anything they didn’t want to. Anything unacceptable happens, they were to call you, and you’d fix the situation. You were quick to remind the pimps that it was, your house, your rules, you knew most of the girls that came through your parties were of age and willingly doing this, but there was always a limit of no. If they didn’t want it, you didn’t allow it and you were definitely going to kick a customer out and red list him from as many parties as possible.

A few hours later and the party was in full swing, you had a good handful of perps throughout the suite, everything was going smoothly, the money, booze and drugs were flowing smoothly. Alejandro kept a protective eye while you finished up the books, handing you a fresh glass of champagne when you flipped the book shut, letting out a hefty sigh. You passed it off to one of the nearby security guards, insisting he put it upstairs where you kept the others. 

“You okay Mija?” He questioned as you moved from the island, facing the extravagant living room.

“Yeah.” You ran a hand through your hair as you took a hefty gulp of the alcohol “I just have a bad feeling about tonight…” You glanced up at him,  “I think you should get out of here.”

“And what? Leave you to deal with the blow out on your own?” You tossed him a wicked grin,

“We both know all I have to do is shed a few tears and flip on a few of these idiots and I’ll be walking away with a misdemeanour. That last bust…wasn’t vice, sex crimes is onto us now. The target on our back is getting bigger.” Your words were quietly muttered into the rim of your champagne flute, eyes watching the room. 

“Well it sounds like you know the drill, do exactly that, and we run. How do you feel about the French Polynesia? Sure beats the New York winter.” You rolled your eyes at his comment. Sure, a tropical getaway of a vacation sounded fucking wonderful right about now, but the last thing you wanted was another year under. You took a swig of champagne, leaving the glass on the counter, muttering that you were going to do a quick round of the house, not that you would find any trouble upstairs. Oh no, the trouble was walking in the door while you made your way back down the staircase.

“You really think you can throw a party on my turf without me darlin’?” Fucking Declan.

“Last I checked you weren’t invited O’Rourke.” You strode towards him, hands settling on your hips, “Not to mention this isn’t your turf.”

“C’mon sweetheart, you forget what I have to offer?” You scoffed at that, noticing Alejandro cautiously moving towards the two of you.

“Oh, what!? Strung out sixteen year olds?!” A hand wildly gestured to the four girls behind him, obviously under age and obviously not sober. “You’re just here to pretend you’re fancy when you are in fact, a piece of trash. Get the fuck out of here.”  Your personal rage towards the man, knowing that he still had his bosses convinced that he was undercover when he was in fact a criminal, blinded you from noticing him pulling the gun from inside his coat. You yelped as he crashed the butt of it into the side of your head, yelling something about how you were no better than a stupid whore.

“HEY!” The shout came from Alejandro, he moved to push Declan against a wall but you were a hot second faster, a heel to the balls, you had the gun out of his hand and unloaded in a matter of seconds, tossing the magazine to the floor in the direction of the nearest security. Nonetheless he shoved his shoulders hard enough to send the other man stumbling in the direction of the elevator. You heard the all too familiar ‘gun!’ shout with just enough time to look up at Alejandro.

“Run!” Grasping your hand he tugged you towards the back entrance, you were halfway through the door when ESU caught you, coming from that entrance. The cops behind them were more than quick to wrench you and Alejandro apart, no doubt knowing exactly who you were, and catching the big fish was more important than trying to gather up minnows.

‘You have got to be fucking kidding me…’

***

You knew hours had passed, you’d been taken down to the 2-4 and very unceremoniously tossed into an interrogation room, at least they’d been generous enough to un-cuff you and give you an ice pack for the pistol whipping you’d taken. Whenever a bust happened with you and Alejandro they were always going to send in the big guns, and they usually let you wait it out while they started with him. You’d collapsed yourself against the cold metal table, legs dangling off the edge, you couldn’t believe this, five days, five fucking days until SVU was supposed to make the bust. You were livid with whatever dumb ass Captain approved the bust without communicating to other units, and on the 26th of all days?! It was your smallest party, aside from the added bonus of Declan in cuffs, there was no upside to this whatsoever.

With the sound of the door opening, you lolled your head to the side, annoyed expression on your face matching the one on man who walked in, clearly Alejandro wasn’t talking.

“Get up.” Shooting a glare at the way he kicked the leg of the table, you rolled your eyes. Stereotypical, send in the big burly guy to play bad cop with the Queen. You knew who he was, and if Elliot Stabler was questioning you, Organized Crime seemed to also be on your tail.

“Make me.” It slipped out before you stop yourself. It was late, way too late for you to be strapped into a too tight dress and stilettos, you knew you were either spending the night in a holding cell or heading back to your precinct to work the case, your attitude wasn’t exactly ideal. Stabler sighed heavily, grabbing the leg of the table by your head and giving it a hefty tug, pulling it out from under you causing you to nearly topple over as your heels met the floor. He moved back in front of you, a tilt of the head, smirk on his lips, sizing you up as he moved in closer.

“Your King’s not talking, figured maybe you’d be more up for it.”

“Am I supposed to be afraid of you?” You cocked a brow, “Cause it certainly isn’t working, this whole, bad cop thing? Hasn’t aged well.”

“Sit down.” 

“And I suppose you want me to not shut up this time.” The only reason you even considered obeying the order was the aching in your feet from being in heels all night, “What does Organized Crime want with us anyways. It’s usually Vice.” He stalled slightly at that, making you smirk, you loved having the upper hand on men like him.

“Someone let it slip on the way in?”

“Oh…no. Sergeant Stabler, you know who I am, why shouldn’t I know who you are?” Yeah…this was definitely Organized Crime’s first time dealing with the royalty of Manhattan. “Shame you didn’t run your little op past the other departments, would’ve heard New Year’s was the night to go in.”

“What, you got cops working for you? Letting you know the little secrets so you can evade arrest?”

“Am I under arrest Sergeant?” You gave a smirk at the sigh he released in response.

“Technically, we don’t have anything on you…yet.”

“That’s what I thought.” You stood from the table, eager to get the fuck out of the unfamiliar precinct and back to the confines of your own. You barely noticed Stabler moving faster than you could imagine behind you. The door never made it open, you were jerked backwards, his hand closed around your wrist, 

“I said yet.” You felt the cement of the wall hit your body, head ricocheting off it, his forearm pressing into your collarbone. Your hand shot up, fingers hitting his parotid, the reaction causing his elbow to slam into you mouth, you felt your lip split as he stumbled from you. You were done playing, and you were certainly done playing the good girl role.

“You touch me again and I’ll have IAB so fucking far up your ass you won’t be able to shit for a month. Do I make myself clear?”

“Playing the cop angle now? You just assaulted a police officer.” He shot back, still right up in your face, rubbing the spot behind his ear you’d hit.

“Oh wow, I’m so scared! A class C felony, mark yourself down for the same offence. I’m undercover you moron.” You growled at him, if there were this many different departments on your ass there was no way you were going to be able to hide for six months, much less restart the ring afterwards.

“Yeah, right.” He scoffed, “Colour of the day?”

“Gold.” You shot back. Your heart immediately dropping into your stomach when you saw the laugh on his lips. Fuck. Gold was the 31st, you’d been so focussed on the SVU bust you’d forgotten today’s.

“Nice try.” He smirked, “Now you can either sit your ass down in that chair and tell us everything you know about Alejandro Martinez, or you can go to jail for solicitation and that assault collar.”

“I don’t make deals with cops. I make deals with A.D.A’s.” You crossed your arms over your chest, “And you’ll never find the evidence you need in the penthouse even if I do flip on Alejandro.”

“What exactly is it you want then?”

“Take me back to the apartment, I’ll get you what you want, but you take me to A.D.A. Carisi at the 16th. And in the meantime you can call Rita Calhoun ‘cause I’m not saying another word without my lawyer.” He gave out a huff at that, 

“Fine.” You rolled your eyes when he pulled the cuffs from his belt, thankful at the very least that he cuffed your hands in the front, giving you a little bit more movement ability.

**

All you could do on the way to the 1-6 was pray that some amount of the squad was there, preferably Olivia or Fin, you knew Sonny would’ve been called, and honestly felt horrible for dragging Rita out of bed in the middle of the night for literally nothing. No matter what kind of facts you relayed to Stabler he wasn’t about to believe the fact that you were a cop. You’d spewed off your badge number so fast you’d accidentally swapped the last two numbers, the exhaustion and multiple glasses of champagne wearing on you by then. Thankfully you’d been able to retrieve what you needed from the penthouse, before being not so gently shoved into the back of the cop car on the way to your own workplace. 

The desk sergeant was nearly asleep as the three of you made your way into the precinct, not noticing that their apparent perp was someone he saw nearly every day. Elliot’s partner was carrying the books you’d grabbed from the house. It was when you finally made your way into the bullpen that he dropped the heavy books down onto an open desk, gaining the attention of the minimal people in the room.

“Doll..Oh ma god.” Sonny took one look at you before nearly freaking out, “Imma grab some ice.” His lips hit the unbruised side of your head lightning fast before Rita spoke up.

“Un cuff her now!” The outburst brought Olivia out of her office, and exhausted look on her face that mirrored yours.

“Why should I?” Stabler shot back,

“Because she’s one of mine! Jesus El.”

“She had the wrong colour of the day.” You rolled your eyes, thankful at the release of the metal on your wrists, rubbing at the reddened skin of your wrists.

“Montgomery, you okay?” Olivia asked softly, noticing the marks on your face.

“Yeah,” You murmured, “No thanks to your old partner.” You accepted the bag of ice from Sonny, alternating it between your lip and purpling eye, “Murphy showed up at the party, fucking pistol whipped me.” You turned back to Stabler, “Keep him in fucking custody, guy’s dirty, has been for years.” You felt Sonny’s arms wrap around you, the shaky exhale of his breath making you realize just how relived he was to have you in his arms again, how happy he was you were okay. You gave him a gentle squeeze with your free arm before pulling away, turning to Rita. “Sorry to drag you out at this hour, but you know how these guys won’t stop until they hear the word lawyer.”

“You sure you’re okay?” She asked, giving your arm a gentle squeeze as you nodded.

“Yeah, get outta here.” Rita was an old family friend, she was always your go to when you needed a lawyer over the years of undercover work, even if she never actually had to defend, you were always quick to buy her dinner for waking her up. You turned to Benson, “Cap, I’ve got the books, call in Kat and Fin if you wanna start working on the case.” You shot a glare back to Stabler, “And for the love of God, keep Martinez in custody this time, but do not mention anything about me being a cop, understand? On the rare chance he gets off or doesn’t have a reason for arrest, I don’t need him knowing I’m a UC.” He glanced up to Olivia for confirmation, who simply gave him the very obvious nod, 

“She’s been working this ring for nearly 8 years, I’d trust her if I were you.”

“Okay.” He held up his hands in defeat, “I’ll send the case your way.”

“Thank you.” You practically groaned, your eyes back on your Captain, “Please tell me I can at least power nap before the others get here?”

“Yes.” She gave you a soft smile, noticing how you grabbed Sonny’s hand, “Hey! No funny business.”

“Liv I’m too tired to even think about that right now.” You called over your shoulder as you dragged him into the bunk room. Even if it was only going to be twenty minutes, twenty minutes curled in your husbands arms was the only way you wanted to end today. 

[ts-unsolved]

The night we met

((i got carried away imagining this scenario, so here’s the conversation that lead to dee joining aboard the Investigation Station))

Summary: On principle, Dee tries to not let his major life choices be ruled by what happens over highly-priced drinks in crummy bars, but flying too close to the sun that was his old college rival had never been part of the equation before.  

Aka: Roman tries one last time to convince Dee to hunt ghosts with him, and he finally says yes. (Aka^2: can you believe Dee has been pining for two whole years? lmao get it together boi).

Content Warnings: Drinking, mentions of smoking, allusions to drug-dealing and generally shady/unsafe atmospheres, mild swearing, references to fights/stabbing/being killed, food descriptions/eating.

Word count: 2.4k – I am not the only traveler Who has not repaid his debt I’ve been searching for a trail to follow again Take me back to the night we met –

[February, 2015. Los Angeles, CA.]

With a languid roll of his wrist, Dee swirled the peach-colored liquid around his glass for what felt like the hundredth time since he had sat down at the round rickety table. Blame it on his keen intuition for arduous conversations, but he had not managed to settle his nerves since he and his companion had entered the dim and dusty bar, and something about the location they had found themselves in was only lending itself to his growing headache.

It wasn’t a secret that Roman’s family was loaded; Dee knew this for a fact, and yet out of all of the establishments in the city they could have gone to, the man had chosen such a lowkey place for them to meet. Perhaps in his mind the discrete look of the place was appropriate for a supposedly momentous conversation, although whatever grand idea Roman had of a ‘private business discussion’ definitely didn’t match the reality of what was going on in the shady establishment, all of which spoke of illegal activities with the subtlety of a glowing neon sign. From what he had already managed to discern from a quick glance, there were hands dealing under the tables, side-glances from couples locked in suspiciously hushed exchanges, not to mention the laundering scheme this place seemed to operate as a front for, barely even camouflaged under the displeasingly unkempt storefront with furniture that looked like it dated back to the 60′s and the pervasive smell of cigarette smoke to match.

Dee suppressed a grimace as he forced his attention away from surveying the landscape of the bar and back to the man sitting opposite him. By all means, this was the exact kind of place he would choose to hang out in if he were to catch up with some of his old high school friends, and yet being here with Roman Kingsley of all people somehow made him want to reevaluate the decisions that lead him to being in this clearly cursed timeline, because there had to have been a horribly wrong turn made somewhere.

As if sensing himself being at the center of Dee’s thoughts, Roman looked up from where he had been prodding at his unusually soggy plate of nachos (“…I was hungry, though I’m not so sure I am anymore.”), and shot Dee an unguarded twist of a smile. It was the kind of expression Roman clearly wasn’t used to wearing; which was to say that it was less of his usual brand of over-compensated arrogance and more hopeful uncertainty. Dee stared blankly back, being struck with a realization as he took in the figure that was bathed under the terrible lighting of the bar:

‘Ah. One way or another, this guy is going to be the death of me.’

Surprisingly, the thought didn’t perturb him as much as it should have. Sure, being mugged and/or stabbed in the alley out back because he had willingly accompanied this walking hotspot of disaster to one of the more dangerous parts of the city wasn’t exactly ideal, but in all honestly it didn’t feel like it would be much of a surprise for him to meet his end in such a dumb and grisly way. Of course, with his baby snake waiting for him back home he was hardly looking for trouble, and especially not at the expense of somebody he didn’t even send Christmas cards to. Even so, his gut told him that dead or alive, he wouldn’t be walking out of this bar without a semblance of trouble following him; a prospect he wasn’t sure if he found exhilarating or exhausting.

And so there the situation currently was, in an uneasy limbo. With a sigh, he pushed his nagging thoughts to the back of his mind for the moment and took a sip of his drink, finding brief refuge in the sugary film that coated his mouth and the back of his throat.

Roman tracked the glass with his eyes as it was set against the table and quirked his lips in that infuriatingly smug expression only the two of them could truly pull off. “I didn’t take you for a mocktail kind of guy. Lost your edge over the years?”

Dee simply raised an eyebrow in response. It wasn’t a surprise that Roman remembered his delinquent past, what was a surprise was how this was apparently not a determining factor in eliminating Dee as a potential co-worker given the goody-two-shoes friends the other loved to hang around. “What can I say? In my wise age, I’ve learned to value substance over a cheap high. I’d have assumed you’d have shared that viewpoint given our similar tastes for the unconventional, and yet...” He gestured to the very stereotypically masculine pint that sat in front of Roman, not untouched and yet not being attended to either. Roman scowled in response, more at the menu than at him.

“Normally I’d agree with you, but despite what you think, I don’t actually have the money to drop on overcharged garbage like some kind of idiot. I mean, look: the Merlot is $50 here, Dee. $50. For Merlot. That is borderline criminal!”

For a moment, the air in the bar stilled. Dee soon realized that Roman’s voice had gotten a tad too loud and wow he really did not want to get beaten up because this pipsqueak couldn’t figure out what the exchange of dirty money looked like even when it was staring him in the face. Time to move the subject along to something less contentious, because he really did not like the way the dead-eyed look the bartender was giving them.

“Please, you only have yourself to blame for your poor judgement calls. We’re not here to have a lovely evening out though, are we? Let’s just cut to the chase already.”

Roman simmered down with a click of his tongue, pausing to pick up a tortilla chip and eat it, only to look disappointed by the lack of crunch. Nevertheless, as asked, he dropped all pretenses of small talk. 

“You read my text, then? Have you thought your decision though any more?”

There it was, the million dollar question. While he had been acting nonchalant about the matter ever since Roman had first approached him with his offer, the truth was that he had been weighing the pros and cons of this decision for days now, to no end. Remus, that absolute bastard that he was, was probably having a real laugh at his expense right now, knowing fully well the position he had put his old pal in by pointing Roman's attention his way. Perhaps a little payback on Remus’ end was warranted for their less-than-stellar parting conversation, although Dee couldn’t help his ire at his friend (ex-friend? frenemy?) for setting him up for this infuriating no-win scenario. Years ago he, young and foolish, had hoped that Roman would have dropped his inane obsession with the paranormal by college graduation, but given his current predicament it seemed he had underestimated the tenacity of Remus’ brother. Time to test the waters of that commitment, he supposed.

“About the wacky little ghost show you’ve been raving about since the dawn of time? Can’t say you’ve really sold me on it. I am a rather busy guy, you know; I can’t just drop everything for a show pitch I’m not even convinced on.”

This was a slight twist of the truth. He had been between jobs for months, a lack of inspiration and not being able to stand his bosses and coworkers being the reason he just can’t seem to stick to one place. He had long-since given up on his dream of going into show business, so for a long time he had settled on just doing what he could to maintain a living. It wasn’t a fulfilling way to live, but he was surviving, and that was all that mattered.

Nevertheless, Roman was not thrown by the negative response and instead puffed out his chest in a show of indignation. Clearly he would not be taking no for an answer without a fair fight, which likely spelled bad news for how this evening was going to go. “It’s not ‘wacky’, it’s a serious show for serious investigations! I’m really trying to prove the existence of ghosts here.”

“Right…” Dee squinted his eyes skeptically. “And you are aware that I don’t believe in ghosts, yes?”

“Obviously. Did you think I missed the three years of you being a dick about it?”

Ah, memories. Dee didn’t bother to hide his amusement at Roman’s grumbling. “My my, you’re still holding a grudge about that? Here I thought my depiction of Hamlet’s father was enough to wipe the slate clean. Didn’t it please you to see your greatest enemy play one of the spooky creatures you like so much?”

Rather delightfully, frustration gave way and the corners Roman’s eyes crinkled with the beginnings of mirth before he quickly hid the expression away by shoving another chip into his mouth. It was the kind of reaction Dee was still growing used to seeing from their back-and-forths, not quite being sure when their exchanges of teasing remarks had crossed the line into something more friendly. That said, it was certainly not an unpleasant development; in some senses, it felt rather rewarding to catch a glimpse of something less refined behind a curtain of perfectionism, much like seeing the behind-the-scenes of a broadway production. 

“Oh don’t get me wrong, you really did give an excellent performance. I can still remember act one scene five like it was yesterday. 'Tis given out that, sleeping in my orchard, a serpent stung me; so the whole ear of Denmark is by a forged process of my death’!” Roman dramatically reenacted the performance, hand pressed to his heart, and Dee preened under the praise.

“Why thank you. The dull lead was quite a letdown, though we certainly outdid ourselves in spite of the poor casting, didn’t we? Still, I can’t say that flattery will convince me to hunt ghosts with you or... whatever it is you were hoping for. The point still stands that it’s not exactly the sort of thing I’ve ever pictured putting on my resume.”

Roman’s smile faltered and he cleared his throat awkwardly. Without the comfort of dancing around their thoughts with friendly banter, things got uncomfortably serious a tad too quickly, it seemed. 

“I get that it’s... not ideal to you, considering how you always had high aspirations for your career, and a webshow is probably too low on the radar for your pompous-self. Heh... To be honest, I’m not sure why Remus thought you’d be a good candidate for the job,” Wow, rude. “But he did, and I’m kind of out of options here.”

Roman paused, the buzz of bar filling the silence between them as he clearly struggled to speak what was on his mind.

“Actually, the more I think about it, I can’t come up with anyone else I’d like to join more than you. You’d be a great host! You’re good at talking to crowds when you want to, you know how to improv, you’re one of the funniest people from our class, and as much as I hate to admit it, I always enjoyed acting with you on stage-”

At some point during Roman’s rant, Dee’s brain short-circuited with the words, and even as he tried to process they just kept on coming, to his absolute befuddlement.

“-And I guess I feel like you’d co- ...Hey, phantom of the opera, are you even listening to me?! I’m pretty much singing your praises here, which let me tell you, is rare for me, and you’re staring off into space! If you’re that disinterested, you should just say so.”

“Sorry. I was paying attention, I just...”

Dee scrunched his eyes shut as he tried to work through what Roman had said. Maybe it shouldn’t be such a shock to hear the compliments coming from someone he regarded as being an equal in terms of talent, yet part of him still screamed at him that it was only empty flattery to sway his decision. Sure enough, while it may be true that his cynicism had never failed him in the past, he still yearned to ignore the knee-jerk judgment and choose the better option, the one which meant that he was considered the first choice for something and his presence was wanted. Unbelievably, even to himself, he found himself tempted, if only by the warmth that came from such a thought. Perhaps if he was without the greater knowledge that he had, he would have jumped at the opportunity in a heartbeat, however the fact still remained that he was tired and worn from years of strife. At this point in his life, self-preservation was the only thing keeping him going, and so the idea of leaving the peaceful bubble he had built up itched like nothing else. But then, his thoughts drifted back to what could happen, of letting down Remus who had obviously entrusted him in this, despite everything they had gone through.

He truly must be growing soft, if he was willingly jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire.

(And was that so bad, to try to feel some warmth again?)

Begrudgingly, he opened his eyes to Roman’s concerned face. 

“...Alright. Perhaps flattery does get you some places. With such a compelling argument, how could I possibly say no?” He drawled, as nonchalantly as he could possibly muster.

Already flustered by his decision to agree so readily, he picked up his overly-sugary drink as a means to avoid eye-contact, though when seconds passed with no audible response, his focus still ended up being drawn to the other man for his reaction. Roman’s eyes were as wide as dinner plates and simultaneously filled with joy; despite the muddy brown of the lighting that had washed out his features into a pool of shadows, they looked as if they were sparkling.

Dee felt the wind knocked out of him at having that expression pointed towards him. It seemed like it had been so long since somebody had been brought that much happiness because of something he did. This...wasn’t a terrible feeling, he decided in that moment.

“That wasn’t sarcasm, was it? You really want to join?!” Roman just about yelled, drawing back the eyes of a few of the other patrons. Dee chuckled nervously, wondering how he could get them out of the building as swiftly as possible without causing further ruckus. If they would be working together, the last thing they needed was to get into a fist-fight, after all.

“I do. Please don’t make me regret my decision.”

In return, he was given a beaming smile, one that equally eased his uncertainties and spoke of future trouble.

“You won’t, I promise.”

[patrickstargang]

The Firelord’s Promise (Kyoshi fic)

Chapter 1: Nomad’s Land

Chapter 2: A Bureaucrat’s Word

Chapter 3: Throw Away Your Honor, Rally In The Streets

Chapter 4: Unfortunate Truths

Chapter 5: A Change For The Better

Chapter 6: The Roles We’re Given

Chapter 7: To Save A Life

Final Chapter: I’ll Always Be With You

The Ember Lily Inn was a somewhat disheveled spot, hidden away in the alleys of upper Caldera. It wasn’t as much of an inn as a hastily made hideout for demonstrators and members of the Saowan clan that were trying to evade the authorities. Each room could hold two people, but sometimes they would get crowded as meetings were held between the organizers.

When Kyoshi arrived at the Inn, there was a great celebration knowing they had the Avatar supporting them. They greeted the rest of her group, but they were hesitant with Rangi since she still wore her Fire Nation military armor. After some convincing, they let her in. But it still didn’t erase the guilt that Rangi felt.

Sunlight crept through the cracks in the wood, the halls and the rooms were dusty all over. It didn’t feel like it was far off from the estates. Once Kyoshi and everyone else settled in, they were told about everything that had happened after she left to find Yun. The Camelia-Peony War took place during Kyoshi’s absence, it was a few days where all Saowan clan members were being arrested en masse. Some went willingly, but others resisted and fought back. Now most of them are imprisoned, only a few remain missing. The arrests halted for some time, but soon protests began among those who knew certain Saowan clan members. To some, it appeared as if the arrests were unjust and had no true motive behind them except for the charge against Chaejin and Huazo for conspiring with Yun.

The arrests shifted from members of the Saowan clan to Saowan clan sympathizers. It had been this way for the past few days, usually in the morning. It was why the streets were empty when Kyoshi and her team arrived in the city, as the protests would usually take place at that hour. Some of the other villagers didn’t want to get involved with the demonstrations since they didn’t want to become enemies of the law and, mostly, that the imprisonment of the Saowan clan didn’t concern them.

Kyoshi also learned of the many injuries the demonstrators took over this time. Some had light wounds while others had injuries that had not been attended to. She and Atuat took to healing as many of them as they could. Rangi watched to the sides, the feeling of guilt kept growing with the fact she couldn’t help them much in any way.

After a while, the demonstrators were back in good spirits. They had spent many hopeless days and nights trying to change circumstances for the better and it seemed that their prayers had been answered with the Avatar’s arrival.

As the commotion died down, Kyoshi spoke with Kirima and Wong. They huddled together, trying to keep their conversation down.

Kirima looked from side to side before she spoke. “So, what's your plan with Zoryu?”

“The plan is to speak with him before he makes his public address. I don’t know what he's planning but I’m going to make sure he remembers what he's supposed to do.”

Wong interjected. “Planning on being persuasive?”

Kyoshi nodded. “I’ll have to be, otherwise there's no other options.”

Kirima spoke up a bit. “So what, you're just planning on walking up to Fire Nation royal palace and demand to speak to Zoryu? Out of nowhere?”

Kyoshi nodded again nonchalantly. “Pretty much.”

Kirima was about to object against the idea, but then she thought about it. She was the Avatar, it would be hard for anyone to try to stop her. “Well, I guess that settles it then.”

After the conversation ended, Kirima decided to quickly change the subject. “I was pretty surprised by topknot out there. I mean for someone who despises criminals, that was pretty daofei of her.”

Kyoshi smiled at the comment, but it didn’t last. She was still worried about the firebender, so much had happened today and she didn’t have much time to speak with her. More than that, she wanted to heal the burn she got from her fight with Jiran. Her mind was a blur and she needed some time alone.

Kyoshi got up from the huddled group and made her way out of the crowded room. “Excuse me, I’m going to get some water.”

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

Kyoshi held an old rag and a bucket. In the lower depths of the inn, there was a water pump in the middle of the lobby. No one was using it, so Kyoshi had the room to herself. She filled the bucket and soaked her rag. After that, she took a look at her reflection in the water. She could see her daofei makeup was already coming off, it must have been from the fight earlier that day.

As she wrung out the excess water from the rag, she thought about how she couldn’t remember the last time she saw her own reflection. At first, it caught her off guard, sometimes she forgot that she was wearing the makeup, so seeing her painted face was a surprise at first. With slow, pressured strokes she wiped it off from her face. She might need to put it on again before she meets with Zoryu and she didn’t want to look like she just got back from a fight (which she did).

As she washed off the last of the makeup, she looked back into the water to see her reflection without any filters. A strange feeling came over her. She saw her face, but she didn’t recognize it. It wasn’t just the bruises and the lightning scars she could see creep around her neck, or the fact that her hair was longer than she remembered, something about her was just….unfamiliar.

But rather than feeling alienated, it was comforting to her. She kept thinking about how far away her years as a maid were, the time before her world had completely changed. She wasn’t the same person that she was those two years ago. She wasn’t even the same person she was just two days ago. After all the pain she endured and put herself through, she was really beginning to heal.

The person she saw in the reflection was new to her. It was someone she was happy with.

But she knew that there was someone else who was changing too. Someone who might be changing too quickly. Her thoughts went back to Rangi. The firebender had experienced a great betrayal, one that she had to process and put aside so suddenly. Kyoshi knew what it was like to find out that everything you’ve worked for was all for nothing. That doesn’t just go away overnight.

Rangi helped her to heal from all those years of hardship, now it was her turn to do the same.

She picked up the bucket of water and made her way to Rangi’s quarters.

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

Rangi was sitting down against the wall of the room, trying to produce a flame from her wounded palm. The only result she got was a weak spark and a searing pain. Her other hand could easily conjure up fire, but now her other hand was practically useless. She sighed deeply, trying to distract herself in any way she could.

The door to her room opened slowly. Kyoshi let herself in, carrying the water bucket and trying not to spill some of it on the floor. She closed the door behind her.

Kyoshi gave Rangi a warm glance. “Hey….”

Rangi didn’t return the glance. She continued sitting, her brow furrowed looking at the ground. “Hey…”

It was worse than Kyoshi had thought. She had to do whatever she could to get through to her.

Kyoshi crouched down, sitting next to Rangi against the wall. She leaned forward, trying to catch a glimpse of her face. “Is everything alright?”

Rangi still kept her eyes on the floor, barely moving them. “I’m fine.”

Kyoshi was now getting a taste of her own medicine. She knew something was wrong, they both did. But Rangi wasn’t willing to budge. It was uncomfortable for her, but she had to help Rangi open up.

“Rangi, you know better than anyone that pushing this away won’t help. I know a lot has happened in so little time, and I’m worried about you. Please, just talk to me”

Rangi sat silently for a moment before suddenly standing up. She began to pace around the room sporadically. Kyoshi didn’t know how to respond at first.

“What is it?”

Rangi stopped in her tracks. “I’m-I’m just so….frustrated.” She clenched her fists.

Kyoshi could feel more than just frustration in her words. “..Why are you frustrated?” She knew why, but she still wanted to hear it from her.

“I’m frustrated because….because I feel like I’ve just been lied to for most of my life.”

Kyoshi could understand that feeling considering her accidental discovery, the one that got them both down this path.

“Ever since I was a kid I was told the Fire Nation was a symbol for honor across the world, I was told that for so long. Now I’m seeing them imprisoning people without question and attacking their own citizens! What honor is there in hurting innocent people!”

The pain in her palm helped her to not let her anger boil to an extreme. She sighed before she continued.

“But more than that, I’ve wanted to be part of the military ever since I could remember. That's what I’ve always wanted to be. And I put myself through so much just to get to where I am now. A soldier is supposed to protect the people, not be feared by them. The protestors, when their leader was speaking to Jiran, he was trying to be strong but I could hear so much fear in his voice.”

Rangi began to look back up at Kyoshi, she built up the courage to look her in the eyes.

“But what does that make me, I’m still a part of them. They say I’m more honorable now after I became a lieutenant, but from where I see it I have even less honor than when I started. I have about as much honor as-”

“As a daofei?”

The interjection caught Rangi off guard, but Kyoshi was relieved that it let her gain a bit of an outside perspective. She nodded.

“I think you’ve got it all wrong,” Kyoshi put her hand on Rangi’s shoulder. “You never wanted to hurt people, you became a lieutenant because you wanted to help others. That's plain to see. I mean, you attacked a higher ranking commander just to protect innocent people. You were the real hero out there. That’s not just honorable. That's brave.”

Rangi smiled lightly at Kyoshi’s words of encouragement, brushing her fingers against her hand. But after a moment she started pacing again, this time a bit slower.

“Even so, I can’t keep being a part of it anymore. I’ve dedicated my life to this, but now I see its nothing more than the Firelord’s personal rescue squad. I don’t want to be that. I’ll never be that! And I’m sick of it. I’m sick of the petty power play. I’m sick of these clan rivalries. I’m sick of that stiff feeling I get when I have to talk to the governors that pretend they want to help, but they just want to keep their position in power. I’m sick of being a noble. I’m sick of this code of honor I’ve been holding onto for years.”

Suddenly, Rangi yanked out the pin in her hair and pulled the tie keeping it together, letting it all fall to the sides of her face.

“And I’m sick of this stupid topknot!”

She threw the pin and tie against the wall.

Kyoshi stood where she was, completely frozen. She forgot how quickly and openly Rangi expressed her feelings around her. Part of her was shocked at the boldness of Rangi’s claims, leaving that same sincerity she radiated before the fight with Jiran. But also it was that Kyoshi keeps forgetting how nice her hair looks when it's not being held up.

Rangi grimaced again, the pain from her palm seeping back. Kyoshi walked closer to her, looking at the wound. As she got closer, it seemed that Rangi was getting calmer. Kyoshi felt a sense of relief, knowing that even venting was already helping her process these hard feelings.

“I know this is hard for you. It's hard for me to see you like this. But just know you never have to keep being “honorable” around me. No matter what you decide to do, I’ll always love you.”

Rangi sighed, her cold stare became a warm smile. It was strange, only a few days ago she was having this exact same talk with Kyoshi. She never thought she would need to hear those words for herself.

She gave Kyoshi a quick kiss. “Thank you…...Thank you so much. And I Iove you too.”

Kyoshi returned the smile. With time her gaze came back to the injury. “Now, let me take care of this for you.”

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

The feeling of water clinging to her wound stung at first, but after a few moments, Rangi could already feel it healing with Kyoshi’s help. The Avatar held her hand gently while using her other hand to slowly direct circulation.

Kyoshi was in deep concentration. She didn’t want to move too fast, otherwise, the pain might come back worse than before. She had to keep it at a constant. As she focused on Rangi's palm it made her think about the scars she had on her own hands from the fight with Xu Ping. The memory left a bitter feeling, knowing that while she could heal her hand she would still have the burn as a reminder. But it didn’t take long for that memory to be pushed to the side.

“I can’t believe how much you’ve changed.”

Kyoshi looked up quickly to find Rangi’s loving stare. The warmth she felt from it left her flustered and unprepared. Its been a while since Kyoshi was this smitten by her glowing girl.

“Your really becoming a great Avatar. Seeing you out there, you really seemed like you were taking your role to heart. And most surprisingly, you seem like your happy. I’m-I’m just so proud of you.”

It hit Kyoshi hard. The feeling of someone being proud of her. This whole day felt like a dream that she didn’t want to wake up from. It felt like, for the first time, she was on the right track to being who she needed to be. Kyoshi began to tear up a little before she spoke.

“And I’m proud of you too. You made some hard decisions today, but you didn’t run away from what you thought was right. Seeing you fight alongside me, it made me feel so lucky to have met you.”

Tears welled up in Rangi’s eyes as well. She exhaled, feeling the relief of the pain disappearing and the relief of still being here with Kyoshi. She leaned in to kiss her again, but this time she let it linger. Kyoshi still focused on healing, unconsciously keeping the flow at the same speed.

As their lips parted, Kyoshi spoke near Rangi’s ear. “And speaking of changes, I really like your new hair.”

Rangi chuckled as Kyoshi nuzzled part of her face into the long strands of her hair. After a moment, Kyoshi stopped the movement in the water, letting it slide off Rangi’s hand. She rubbed her thumb around the skin of her palm. She did this for a few moments before looking up.

“Do you feel any pain?”

Rangi smiled at her intently. “No, not a thing.”

In a few hours, Kyoshi would have to face a truly uncertain situation. But right now, she was where she wanted to be, helping someone she loved.

[skvaderarts]

Hiraeth Chapter 20: Arrears

Masterlist can be found Here!

Chapter Twenty: Arrears 

Note: And just like that, we’re on chapter twenty for the third time. That’s totally surreal, isn’t it? Sorry that my replies were a day or two late this week and that this chapter is a few hours late. I fell asleep. I was out of town Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday with a friend, so my uploads and response times were not quite as quick as I would have liked. But it’s okay because I’m back! Now let’s get on with this fic.

(-~-)

Once they were gone, the doors to the front office swung shut with a resounding bang, sending an echoing boom through the entirety of the front room. In what had to be a rare moment of silence for the normally noisy space, there was no music playing and no ceiling fans spinning due to the lack of electricity present within the building. It was welcome, but also strange as he had finally begun to grow used to the sound of Dante’s particular brand of loud metal and rock. And although he couldn’t say that he enjoyed the exact music that Dante did, he found that he didn’t mind it as much as he used to when he’d first heard it. Maybe he could even convince him to play something else… 

The Darkslayer took a moment to lock the door behind himself before proceeding, not so much because he was worried that they would be attacked or that someone would attempt to actually break in and rob them. No, that would be an absolute dream as far as the eldest Son of Sparda was concerned. Having the opportunity to teach a wayward criminal a much-needed lesson without the moral implications that came with cold-blooded murder or fratricide was a welcome change of pace for him. No, they needed to be alone for this, and he didn’t need any of his younger brother’s associates interrupting them with any trivial or annoying requests, especially given their current circumstances.

As the devil hunter in the blue coat approached his brother’s desk, Dante shook his head, reclining in the chair at his desk as he awaited his older sibling’s response. He was somewhat sure that he already knew what he was going to say. After all, Vergil had been looming over him like a literal physical manifestation of the shadow of his immense debt ever since they had returned and realized that the power was once again turned off. That had surely given them both enough time to contemplate what they both expected the other to say and, in turn, what they would add to the conversation themselves. That was, if there was a conversation at all. While they had made remarkable progress in the short time that they had been gone from the office, he didn’t put it past his older sibling to still want to settle this the old-fashioned way like they always had. And at this point, there was a part of him that expected nothing less than that, regardless of the progress that they made. The real question was how they would go about this process, and what the fight would be about this time, not so much if there would be one in the first place.

“I know, I know. This is the part where you barely hide how mad you are at me, and they you give me a piece of your mind before you stab me again, right Vergil.” Dante laughed grimly as he spoke those words, watching his twin slowly approach the desk. That was what was to be expected under these circumstances. And he’d dealt with Vergil enough times to know that-

“Why are the utilities always off, Dante? Am I to presume that you are in some form of arrears to the utility company, then?” Vergil said calmly as he reached the halfway point of the room. He stopped a few feet from the desk, looking around the room for a moment before continuing. “It came to my attention just after we had first returned from the underworld that you might be hiding something. It clearly wasn’t the first time that you had gone without electricity since you didn’t appear to be surprised by its absence, but considering our initial fight with Nero on the front steps upon arriving, my general mood at the time, and the lingering unrest in the atmosphere around the office as to my presence, I was unwilling to bring it up at the time. But now I require answers.”

His calm demeanor took Dante somewhat by surprise as while he was indeed expecting his brother to ask him why the power was off again, he wasn’t expecting him to do so with such a genuine level of curiosity. There didn’t seem to be any real anger in his voice as he asked that question, which admittedly turned things on their head a little. Dante was expecting to be lambasted for several minutes before things either turned violent or Vergil gave up and went to bed. This was… well, this was entirely too diplomatic to be an actual response from his older twin brother. What the hell was going on here?

“You caught onto what was going on that quick, hu? Well damn. I thought I was doing a better job of hiding it.” Dante said, dragging out a long, tired sigh. It was out in the open now, and that brought with it a sort of strange euphoric sense of release that he hadn’t expected, given the circumstances. “So… what happens now? Are we gonna skip the part where you stab me, or go straight to it? I’d just like to know what I’m getting myself into this time, ya know?”

Vergil stepped out of the shadows and approached the desk, unfolding his arms and using them to prop himself up against the desk. He seemed calm in a manner unlike what Dante was used to when it came to his older sibling. From what he could tell, the devil slayer in blue almost seemed to be considering something or even patently awaiting his response. But whatever he was doing, Dante wasn’t sure how he felt about it. As unpleasant as most of his older sibling’s reactions were to basically everything that he did and didn’t do, they were at least almost entirely predictable. This was the farthest thing from that that Dante could imagine, and it made him somewhat apprehensive as to what to do now. He was in uncharted territory, adrift at sea with no wind in his sails and now oars to row with.

“I am… attempting a new approach. My old methods have hit a dead end. And predictably so, at that.” Vergil let loose a barely audible sigh, looking down at the floor as he considered his next words carefully. He wasn’t entirely sure how to put into words what he was thinking, but he did, in fact, know what he actually wanted to do. Talking to his younger twin had never been something that he was particularly adept at, but that didn’t stop him from trying. After all, when had Vergil been the kind of man to do things by half? “As you know, I do not enjoy predictability. So in light of recent revelations, I am now attempting to actually communicate with you instead of simply folding to my baser instincts and using less civil means with which to get my point across.”

Dante sat up and leaned in towards him, looking at him as though he were speaking a foreign language. No, he couldn’t possibly be hearing that right. Had his older twin truly just insinuated that he might be tired of… that couldn’t be possible, could it? Well, it could. That was entirely possible. But he just never thought that he would live long enough to see the day that Vergil would succeed defeat and decide that maybe stabbing his younger sibling to death constantly was perhaps not the best method to achieving his goals. The thought had crossed Dante’s mind on several occasions, but he had just never been able to actually find a way with which to make those ideas into reality. But now…

“So if I’m hearing you right, you’re saying that you actually plan to not stab me right now, and instead you want to talk to me?” Dante wasn’t sure that his humorous tone of voice and sarcastic mannerisms alluded to the deep-seated elation that he felt at that prospect, but that didn’t make it any less true. He had waited a lifetime for the day that his brother might come to the conclusion that it might be a good idea to simply speak to him. And while he hadn’t helped to make that outcome anymore likely, and had often worked directly against it in ways large and small over the years, that didn’t make the possibility of that outcome becoming a reality any less joyous to him. “Am I getting that right, or has someone left and opened a valve that lets out toxic gases in here and we’re both just secretly dying right now or something?”

“Your half right, Dante. That is, in fact, what I am trying to say. But on the last account, you are incorrect. We are not secretly dying.” The Darkslayer paused for a moment, lingering on thoughts that he would have preferred to have kept buried deep below the surface to hide his apparent suffering. He had been through much, and a large percentage of his suffering in life had been through the lens of death. Talking about it wasn’t something that he cherished the opportunity to do. It was unpleasant but necessary. And yet, here he was, willingly doing so. Vergil had pivoted from defiance to indifference in some respects, and then he had made a sharp left into uneasy acceptance. For now, that was all he could do, and he had decided that focusing on what he was capable of instead of beating himself down with the combined weight of everything that he couldn’t might just be the best thing that he could do for himself in moments like these. “Every living thing is at all times marching towards their death. There is no secret in that. It is the inevitability of mortality. Some of us simply make it there quicker or under less desirable circumstances than others. But in the end, we all share the same fate.”

Giving his brother a much more serious look now than he had been a moment ago, Dante leaned back slightly in order to physically give himself space to take in what Vergil had just said. He had the distinct feeling that he now knew what this was about, and that was both a good and a bad thing. While it was far past time that they tackled this topic, he just hadn’t expected things to come to a head like this when they had. It would have been wonderful to have had forewarning so that he could have prepared and… no. No, had had time to prepare himself for this. From the moment that he had stepped foot in the Qliphoth and found himself standing face to face with the doors to Urizen’s throne room, coming to grips with the fact that the monster on the other side of those doors was indeed his twin brother, he had been preparing himself for the worst. When Vergil had reluctantly agreed to return to the human world with hum under the resigned fatalistic view that it couldn’t get much worse, he had known that they would have to have this conversation one day. And now that Vergil was here, it was time to have it. They had needed to get this off of their chest for quite a while now.

“Say what it is that you really want to say, Vergil. I’m not stupid enough to not be able to tell that there is more to this than what you’re saying. You know that, right?” Dante straightened his back out slightly as he reclined in his desk chair, peering out at Vergil from the bangs that hand now found their way in front of his eyes again. He needed to put some space between himself and his brother, if only to keep himself from developing claustrophobia. As much as Vergil utterly despised unwanted or involuntary physical contact, it was one of his best methods for making someone that he wanted to put on edge uncomfortable. Being at the mercy of both his impressive height in respect to most people, and his cold, unflinching stare was normally enough to make the average mortal flinch and back down, and in that respect, even Dante folded, even if only just a little bit. Being stared at the way that Vergil stared at people when he was trying to make a point was enough to make literally anyone want to back away from him. The Demon hunter wondered for a moment if his older brother even noticed that this was something that he did, or if it was something that he did involuntarily out of reflex.

A look somewhere between surprise and acceptance crossed Vergil's face as he nodded in agreement, standing up straighter as he shifted his weight to one hand and then quite literally looked down on his younger twin. There it was again. That noticeable change in him that had not been present when they were younger. Vergil understood it now more than he had when he had first noticed that something was drastically different about his twin now. It was his maturity level. Dante had indeed learned from his past, and seemed to be haunted by the mistakes and regrets that he harbored, much like he himself still did. He recognized it as his own, the poignant grief that he now realized deep within himself that they both shared. It was… well, he couldn’t say that it was something that he’d ever wished for Dante. There were plenty of unfortunate occurrences that Vergil would have brushed or even wished on his brother during his youth. Not so long ago, he would have been ready to exact those very injustices upon him with his own hands. But in that same light, he now understood something that he hadn’t then: the fact that Dante himself felt the same way. He just buried it under a thick layer of humor and sarcasm

He saw it in the moments that they were alone. Dante didn’t possess the same energy that he’d once had, the same spark that he had carried in his youth. And that wasn’t something he could blame completely on his age. Some things were lost along with the youth of the person who possessed them, and hope was one of those things. But hardship, regret, and suffering were great at enhancing those characteristics in a way that few other emotions could match, at least in regards to negative connotations. He would have never pegged Dante as the sort to think that deeply about his actions and their consequences when they were younger, much as he was willing to believe that his younger twin probably didn’t think he himself did back then. And they might have both been right under certain circumstances. But now they were older and they had lived through the folly of their youth. And they were ready to move on from it.

“You’re terrible at keeping things from me, Dante. You always have been. I had the feeling that something was amiss financially in regards to your personal life, and I see that I was not incorrect. But that does not concern me.” Vergil tilted his head slightly to the left, attempting to make brief eye contact with his younger twin as the slightly younger man attempted to not think too hard about the situation that he now found himself in. Things had taken quite the turn since Lucia had left the office with V and the others. He couldn’t say that he knew for sure whether or not his brother had specifically waited for them to leave before having this conversation with him, but he was willing to believe that that was more than likely the case. And that in of itself was admittedly fascinating to him. Vergil had never really cared about shaming him out in the open. Had he actually done so in order to not embarrass him any further than he was embarrassing himself due to the fact that they had company over who were not blood members of their family? Because if so, that had been uncharacteristically compassionate of his older twin. “If I had come here with the expectation that you had everything in your life under control, then I would not be able to claim to know you at all. Your financial troubles are something that can be fixed, unlike some of our other troubles.”

Dante couldn’t help but laugh at that statement. “Oh, brother! See, that’s where you're dead wrong. There is no fixing the amount of debt that I’m in. It’s a whole lot worse than just a few power and water bills.” Shaking his head, Dante leaned back and attempted to open the drawer to his desk, cursing himself internally when he had to pull on it much harder than he normally would. He’d shoved something in there before he’d left, and the sliding mechanism had been jammed, but it opened nonetheless. He then produced a worn brown ledger, tossing it onto the desk with a responding thud. Completely unwilling to even look in the general direction of the book, he slid the door shut and glanced over at Vergil, shrugging slightly. “You want a better answer as to what kind of mess I’m in? It’s in there. But you’re not going to like what’s in it.”

Leaning over to pick up the ledger, Vergil gave it a once over for a moment before opening the cover and flipping to the middle of it. Dante had to admire his twin’s insanity for a moment, likening the action of jumping to the middle of someone’s financial history with diving headfirst into ice water without knowing how to swim. Oh, wait… V had literally done just that. Perhaps reckless insanity for the sake of self-preservation ran in the family? Regardless, the frankly calm and placid look on Vergil’s face turned rapidly to confusion and perplexed frustration as he looked over the numbers. He then immediately turned back a few pages, only to realize that his answers were elsewhere. A moment later, he turned back to the very front of the book before furrowing his brow and jumping immediately to the end of the ledger to try and assess the damages in full. There was no point in trying to make sense of something like this. It was simply the kind of situation where you looked at how deep you’d fallen into the hole, and then tried to figure out what you could stack up to try and climb towards the surface again just to have a chance at jumping towards the general direction of the surface that you could probably barely see due to how far down you were. And you could only hope that you were able to grab onto something when you made that just, because if you didn’t? Well, you would just be back at the bottom where you had started in the first place all over again, and at that point, what had you accomplished?

Upon realizing the depth of the issue at face value, Vergil closed the book along with his eyes before letting out a long, exhausted sigh. He then tossed the book back onto the desk as though simply touching it was enough to make him contract some sort of lethal virus. He slumped over the desk for a moment before glancing back towards the back office door and making a b line for it. Dante watched him go, trying his best not to laugh. Yes, now that was a feeling that he could relate to.

“Where ya headed Vergil,” Dante asked, barely hiding his amusement. It was time to see if his twin brother’s new anti-stabbing ethos was something that he was willing to stand by, even in the face of such a frustrating realization. He imagined that Vergil was more than ready to stab him right now.

He stopped, his back to his twin brother. After pausing for a moment, he peered over his shoulder, a slightly disbelieving, shocked, and overall surprised look on his face. “I need a nap, Dante. I think that jetlag has just set in.” He said simply before turning back in the direction of the door.

“You’re telling me, Vergil. Why do you think I sleep so much?” Dante said with s slight laugh, shaking his head as he faced forward into nothingness again. It was incredible how dark it got in there at night without lights to combat the inky blackness.

“Depression? A desire to avoid your problems for a bit longer? Other ill-defined reasons that I care little to discuss at this point in time?” Vergil shrugged nebulously, seemingly resigned to the reality of his fate. How in the world had those numbers gotten like that? It defied logic. It defied reason. Hell, it defied science and math, too! “Those are just the reasons I can think of off of the top of my head. I am not your phycologist.”

At that point, Dante actually did laugh. It seemed that his financial state had managed to strip what little will to live and energy that Vergil still possessed in his body. That many zeros tended to do that to you. “I mean yea, that’s fair, but you don’t have to say it. I have feelings, you know?”

“Do not awaken me until either the utilities are restored or the office burns down Dante. This will take a substantial amount of work, and I am not at all well-rested enough as it currently stands.”

With that, Vergil closed the door to his bedroom, and a moment later, Dante could hear what was definitely his older twin hitting the bed with enough force to go through it. That right there was a mood, and he was positive that he had never once related so much to his brother’s questionable coping mechanisms. Maybe a good night’s rest was in store for them both. It was dark already anyway. What could it hurt? He was sure that no one would mind, least of all Vergil. Considering the way that he slept on the rare occasion that he actually did, he wouldn’t mind literally anything for a very long time. That could only be a good thing at this point.

(-~-)

I couldn’t tell you why, but Google Docs has decided it hates my guts lately. It decided to crash no less than 7 times while I was writing this, taking whole paragraphs with it. It was a nightmare to write. In fact, it crashed once while I was writing this footnote, so this is my second time writing it. Joy! Anyway, happy 2nd DMC5 anniversary everyone! I hope you all had a good time reading this one! Can’t wait to read your comments. Now time to go cry in the corner over my lost paragraphs! Duh du du du du!

[lumiolivier]

The Good Old Days Chapter Nineteen: A Dangerous Criminal

A/N: I really need to start scheduling these posts. When I go out of town, I probably will, but here nor there. SO! I know this is up a little late than normal, but I've had a little one to keep up with this morning and I slept a little late, so here. Take this chapter as an apology. Love you! x

This was fucking ridiculous. Why the hell would cops show up on our door? I already called the Old Man, so it wasn’t because of work. All I knew was that some kind of kidnapping was a thing. But on a more positive note, this mess taught me something. And like the Old Man said. There’s no such thing as a mistake if it’s learned from. Then, it’s a lesson. And this lesson was the fact that I had a real ride or die at my side. Vanessa didn’t have to come with me. I would’ve taken her home. In hindsight, I should have. Just to keep her out of the crossfire. Yet, I gave her the option. And she chose me. It felt good to be chosen.

When we got back home, I made sure to keep Vanessa close. I love my brothers, but they’re hounds. And my girlfriend’s cute as fuck. I didn’t see them. We can fix that, “Tony! César! Estoy en casa! Dónde están?”

“Están aqui,” César came out of the bedroom with Tony following closely behind him, “Now, what the fuck did you do?”

“What the fuck, César?” I got defensive, “Nothing! Why did I become the fucking suspect of a sudden?”

“Because,” César growled, “When those cops were here, I was watching them to make sure they weren’t planting anything. That’s why.”

“About that, César…” Tony chimed in.

“Not now, Tony,” César snapped, “I’m too fucking pissed to deal with your bullshit.”

“And what exactly did I do that brought cops here?” I regained his focus, “Not to mention, warrant you chewing me a new asshole here?!”

“I’m glad you asked, Frankie,” César sat down, “They asked both Tony and me when the last time we had any contact with Vanessa Scarlotti was.”

“Me?” Vanessa wondered, “The other day. Why would they want to know that?”

“Their prime suspect is considered a dangerous criminal from around here,” César started to calm down, “I didn’t say she was dating my little brother. I didn’t even say I knew her. Apparently, you were kidnapped, Vanessa.”

“And I’m a dangerous criminal?” I scoffed, “I mean, I know I do some sketchy shit for the Old Man from time to time, but I wouldn’t exactly say I’m dangerous. Not for her anyway.”

“I feel pretty safe with you,” Vanessa cuddled into me, “I hate to say it, Frankie. Especially since last night was so wonderful. But this feels like my mother’s handiwork.”

“Does she have any pull with local porkchops?” César got up and walked to the window, opening up a new pack of cigarettes.

“A few,” she winced, “But again. She doesn’t need the pull. She has the family name.”

“She wouldn’t go this far, though,” I took her hand, “Right?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“So,” César lit his cigarette, “You didn’t do anything?”

“No,” I assured him, “Aside from what I do for the Old Man, I stay out of trouble.”

“Ok,” César let it go, his hand on my shoulder, “Good. I got worried for a sec, Frankie.”

“You know me better than that,” I threw an arm around my girl, “I’m just kidnapping one girl these days.”

“I’m with him willingly,” Vanessa swore, “If this ever goes to court, consent goes a long way.”

“So,” I figured, “If this does go to court, I’d be in the clear?”

“Frankie,” she kissed my cheek, “You got the best damn almost legal council in the city. Let them put my ass on the stand. Let them try to use dirty tricks on me. Take everything I say out of context. I fucking dare them. I know those same tricks. I got this.”

If she’s not careful, I might want to keep her around, “That is the hottest fucking thing you have ever said.”

“I wouldn’t get too excited if I were you,” Vanessa settled me, “If this is my mother at work, which it’s starting to feel that way, she’d make sure I never got on the stand. She’d spin it to where I’m too traumatized after everything I’ve been through to think clearly. Therefore, everything I’d say would automatically be ruled invalid. But I’d be sure to push for a psych evaluation, so it’s not totally her word against mine.”

“Ok, I lied, “I held onto her, never wanting to let her go, “That was the hottest thing you’ve ever said.”

“I’m serious, Frankie,” she gave me a little smack to the shoulder, “I’m trying to keep your ass out of jail, if it gets that far. You’re too pretty for prison. You know…Since I’m in love with a dangerous criminal.”

“I kidnapped the oldest daughter of the Scarlotti family from their party last night,” I gave her a little kiss, “And I’d be glad to do it again and again and again. I get what I want.”

“You didn’t kidnap me,” Vanessa laid her head on my shoulder, “You liberated me, Frankie. You did what any loving boyfriend would and got me the fuck out of there. I can’t ever fault you for that.”

“Not that this isn’t a touching moment,” César stepped in, effectively killing that touching moment, “But what are we going to do? I don’t know about you, but I’d rather not deal with…”

Knock, knock.

Out of sheer survival instinct, my brothers and I ducked in front of the couch, making sure we weren’t visible from the door. If someone’s knocking, they don’t come back without a warrant. It was at that moment where I truly realized how different my world and Vanessa’s world were. She got up from the couch and checked the peephole. I’d put that girl’s bravery against any US Marine any day of the week, “You’re safe, boys. No cops.”

Maybe she did get it. A little anyway. I watched her fiddle with the lock and let the Old Man in, “Hiya, sweetheart.”

“Hi, Old Man,” Vanessa fell into his arms with the biggest smile on her face. I loved seeing those two together as much as Vanessa with Mama. He adored her. I knew he’d never try anything with her. Or worse, get her involved with anything. Unless I needed emergency council. Then, she’d gladly step in.

“You know,” he thought, “I was here to see your man and maybe his brothers just to make sure they were all doing ok, but I wasn’t expecting to meet you at the door.”

“Here I am,” she shrugged, “Where else would you find me?”

“I’m finding you all over the place,” the Old Man took a spot at the kitchen table, “What kind of shit have you gotten yourself into, Frankie?”

“See?” César jumped down my throat, “I knew I wasn’t going to be the only one to think you fucked up!”

“Thanks, Old Man,” I rolled my eyes, “Now, you got him started.”

“Sorry, kid,” the Old Man chuckled to himself, “But you are definitely in some deep shit here. This is just me, but if I were you, I’d be laying low today. No calling any attention to yourself.”

“That sounds like a hell of an idea,” I agreed. I already had plans to stay around home today anyway.

“You know what?” Vanessa got up from my lap, “I think I’ll just go home and make nice. Maybe I can make this all just blow over.”

“Vanessa,” I tried to hold her back, “No. You don’t need to deal with that.”

“Frankie,” she gave me one last kiss, “I’d much rather sneak out to see you here than a conjugal visit in jail. I can take care of this, too. It’s alright. Besides, I’ll see you later tonight.”

“Promise?” I didn’t want to let her go. I knew what kind of fire she’d be walking into and I didn’t like the feeling it put in my stomach.

“I promise,” Vanessa curled into my shoulder, “Where should we meet? And when?”

“How about…” I thought it over, “You and me. Downtown Diner. Back corner booth?”

“They have the best fucking coconut cream pie,” she swooned, “Yes, please.”

“Alright then,” I kissed her cheek, “It’s a date. I’ll see you tonight.”

“Yes, you will,” Vanessa swore, getting a better kiss out of me. And far be it for me to say no.

“I love you, Vanessa…”

“I love you more,” she got up from my lap and walked out the door. I’m going to miss her. But I’ll see her tonight. At least I sure as fuck hope so. I don’t want this little patch of bullshit to ruin us. Although…Now that I think about it…Dammit, Veronica might be onto something.

“You know, Frankie,” the Old Man hid a little smile on his face, “You need to keep that one around.”

“That’s the plan for the foreseeable future,” I admitted, “If we ever break up, I’m definitely keeping her number. She’s going to make a hell of a lawyer one day.”

“You think so?”

“Oh fuck yeah,” I nodded, “She already had the fucking court case figured out if charges ever get pressed. I love this girl, Old Man. She’s something special.”

“You do need to lay low for the day, Frankie,” César warned me, “Like…I might not let you leave this apartment kind of lay low.”

“It’s not going to be that bad,” the Old Man vouched for me. And God bless him. There’s no way in hell I’m going to be ok being held captive by my oldest brother. I love César. I really do. But Jesus Christ…Being stuck in this apartment with him all day until I get to go run for the Old Man and he goes to the restaurant sounds like my own personal hell. And I don’t need that in my life, “Because I know you’d be going stir crazy here, kid, why don’t you come work in the Narrows for the day?”

“Because I don’t do that enough at night?” I giggled.

“That’s not what I meant,” he clarified, “I’m saying you come bartend in the Narrows.”

“Really?” It’s not that I couldn’t do it. It’s that…Really? I thought I started working for the Old Man in order to get away from shit like that.

“What?” he jabbed, “You too good for honest work anymore? You figured getting in close with one of the biggest bosses in the city was your ticket to the good life?”

“It has been, Old Man,” I pointed out, “It’s not like I’ve been struggling too hard lately. Mama doesn’t even know I’ve paid the rent for the next six months in full already.”

“Excuse me?” César gasped.

“Yeah, Frankie!” Tony squeaked, “When were you going to tell us this?”

“Where the fuck has our money been going?”

“Relax,” I settled them, “There’s been a jar in the ceiling tiles for the last couple months. That’s where your money’s been going. I was thinking it’d go to the Spain trip.”

“It has been a while since we’ve been home,” César admitted, “That’d be nice.”

“Old Man,” I asked, “Would you be cool with letting me go for a couple weeks while we go visit la familia?”

“I’m appalled that you thought you had to ask,” the Old Man scoffed, “Of course, I would. That’s fine. Now, it’s settled. You’re coming with me and you’re bartending in the Narrows for the day. That way, if someone wants to get curious and finds out where Francisco Mendoza works, it’s honest. It’s not like you’re on any official paperwork for the other side of things. It’ll be alright. Now, I’ll ask you again. Are you too good to bartend in the Narrows, Frankie?”

“No,” I shook my head.

“Good answer,” the Old Man got up from the table, “It’s alright, César. I can keep an eye on him for the day and make sure he stays out of trouble. And if he gets into trouble, it’ll be all on me.”

“Alright,” César let me go. He knew the Old Man wasn’t going to let me get in too deep of trouble. He knew where I’d be. I wouldn’t be surprised if both César and Tony come in either before work or on their break. My brother threw an arm around me and hugged me tight, “Be. Fucking. Careful.”

“Eggshells,” I promised him, “Got it.”

And just like that, I went from letting Vanessa go back home to the bar in the Narrows where the Old Man’s office was tucked away. As I liked to call it, my favorite front. If anything needed to be taken care of, it went through here. It wasn’t too far away from the warehouse either. I think there might be an alley between them. Still, this bar was starting to feel like a second home to me. I mean, I was in here every single night. With the exceptions of Sundays. The Old Man was a stickler for tradition and I got Sundays off. It’s weird to think I’ll be working honest in here…

“You do know how to mix a drink,” the Old Man hoped, “Right, kid?”

“Yeah,” I nodded, “Don’t worry about it. I got this handled.”

“Good,” he nudged me forward, “Then, get behind the bar and get to work.”

“Got it, boss,” I gladly jumped behind the bar. When I still worked at the restaurant, our usual bartender would call in for a hangnail and I’d be the one taking her shift. Those were the few nights at the restaurant that were actually fun. No amount of money would ever make me want to go back there, but I could get used to this. If the Old Man ever wanted to make this a little more permanent. But that would mean bartending full time on top of the running I did for him. I’m sure I’d be able to manage.

If we’re being honest, this isn’t all that bad. It’s peaceful in its own special way. People that came in here weren’t too terribly loud or demanding. It was nice. I liked it here. It’s pretty alright. I could get used to this. Although, I couldn’t help but worry. I hope Vanessa’s doing ok. I’m sure she’s getting chewed out by her mother like I did with César when we got back earlier. Still…I couldn’t wait to see her tonight. Downtown Diner was a damn good diner. Food was cheap, but fuck, it was so good. I’m impressed her blue blood doesn’t burn when she walks in. Then again, Vanessa isn’t just any blue blood.

“Kidnapped daughter of the Scarlotti family was returned safely this afternoon,” the fuzzy TV above me barked, immediately catching my attention. Excuse me? I’m pretty sure she wasn’t kidnapped. We just went over this. She was never kidnapped. You’re only getting one side of the story, Channel 2. Sure enough, Vanessa’s lovely mother was plastered on the news, not Vanessa. Just like Vanessa said, she’s going to spin this where Vanessa’s too traumatized to talk about what the scoundrel did to her.

Victoria’s words burned my ass to no end. She didn’t know me. The only thing she knew was that I had no pedigree. That I wasn’t hand picked by her. That I was just some mutt from Williamsburg after Vanessa for her money. She’s milking this for sympathy and it made me fucking sick. I couldn’t do this. If I kept going, I knew I was going to end up taking out some unbridled rage on a customer and I made a promise to César I wouldn’t call any attention to myself. Pretty sure a bar fight would not be in my best interest. So, what did I do? The next best thing.

“Old Man,” I walked into his office like I owned the place and shut the door behind me, “We got a problem. And a really big one.”

“I know,” the Old Man empathized, “I saw. Trust me, Frankie. Vanessa’s a good girl and I fucking love her to pieces.”

“You’re telling me,” I grumbled. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for that girl. If it meant throwing myself into fire for the sake of keeping her warm, damn right, I would.

“But believe me when I say Victoria Scarlotti is a mess,” he swore, “She is beyond a mess. I love you, kid. You don’t want to tangle with that.”

“If it means getting Vanessa out of that tangle,” I stood my ground, “I’d do it a thousand times over. Old Man, I love her daughter. I love two of her daughters! Because I can’t leave Veronica out of this either. You saw what I did for her. I’d fucking kill someone for Veronica. Just imagine what I’d be prepared to do for Vanessa.”

“I’m telling you, Frankie,” the Old Man warned me, “It will not be pretty.”

“But she is,” I argued, holding back a little smile, “I see this is what I have to look forward to. She’s going to have to learn to make nice with me.”

“What do you mean?” he wondered, “Victoria’s not a tiger that changes her stripes so easily. Why do you think she’s going to make nice with you?”

“I don’t care if we don’t have her approval,” I could finally start to relax again, “I haven’t really told anyone this. Hell, I haven’t even said it out loud to myself. But…”

The Old Man knew where I was taking this, but he had to coax it out of me, “But…? Something you’d care to share with the rest of us, Frankie?”

I couldn’t keep this shit to myself anymore. I wanted to scream it from the roof of the Empire State Building if I had to. Someone’s bound to find out eventually, “I think I want to marry Vanessa…”

[sanamonroe]

Introducing Sana Monroe !

(yes she kept the name you’ll understand why by the end of this possibly)

T H E   B A S I C S

NAME : Sana Monroe neé Aydın

BIRTH NAME : Irene von Montgelas

‘AGE’ / ACTUAL :  38 / 36 Years Old

BIRTHDATE : April 28th, 1984

OCCUPATION : Sculptor & Carpenter (Formerly) 

MOTHER : Zeynep von Montgelas neé Özdemir

FATHER :  Gerard von Montgelas

SIBLINGS : None

SPOUSE : CJ Monroe (Divorced)

CHILDREN : Theo (8) & Lilah (5)

HEIGHT :  5′7″

EYE COLOR : Hazel

HAIR COLOR : Dark Brunette

RECOGNIZABLE FEATURES :  Full lips, angular cheekbones and jaw, beauty mark on the right side of her face.

TATTOOS : New phase new bloom [x], CJ, Theo, Lilah [x] (same arm)

B A C K G R O U N D

TW : DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, ASSAULT, & IMPLIED SEXUAL ASSAULT

Born and raised in Germany, her given name back then was Irene von Montgelas. Her family was extremely well off as her father was deeply rooted in the countries’ politics, like nearly every von Montgelas patriarch before him. However, despite her father’s public persona he was as corrupt as they come through his parties ties to criminal organizations, not to mention an absolute tyrant at home to his wife and only daughter. Sana grew up terrified of the man, and helpless to do anything to help her mother who got the brunt of it all. And more than anything ashamed that she couldn’t say or try to do more to remedy the situation due to her own fear of his wrath coming down on her in place of her mother, more often than it already did.

Her mother had no rights in their home, no say in any matter and least of all the decisions impacting their daughter, and her future. So when her father promised her hand at merely the age thirteen to the son of a crime lord whom he was in cahoots with to further his own parties agenda, her mother could to do anything about it despite how she might be against it, how she might fear for what the future would hold. From the moment she met her would be fiancee Sana was horrified, despite the fact that he wasn’t that much older than her she found him to be simply cruel and his father was so so much worse, seeing as he seemed to worship at the ground the man walked on she could only image what he would be eventually become. Though their interactions while she was still young were limited, with a lot of that time for her having been spent a private all girls boarding school, when they did interact she felt uneasy as it felt as though he seemed to believe he had some sort of ownership over her. More and more the only thought running through her head was that if she didn’t do something, her life would turn out just like her mother’s. 

Things really came to a breaking point when she got that first glimpse of her worst fear, she was seventeen at the time, the engagement planned for just a few months later after she’d turned eighteen, though their ‘coupling’ already somewhat known among their families closest circles. The incident took place after a Christmas celebration where she’d tried her best to avoid Ömer as she typically felt disturbed by his company. He was not happy, and his anger came to a boil after he witnessed her laughing one of her male relatives whom he did not know. He assaulted her that night, dislocating her shoulder, and leaving her with a swelling bruise on her hip. He’d told her than to be glad she didn’t have to wear that shame on her face. She began to plan her escape that night. Receiving her mother’s help for the first time along with a close friend they were able to get perjured documents of a new identity for her. The deep pockets of wealth and opulence of use to her for the first time. She chose the name Sana as it was a simplification of her grandmother’s name who she’d been so close to growing up. And the surname Aydın as it was simple, and very common. All together unassuming. The documentation inflated her age to be two years older than she actually was for more ease, and to further muddle her identity on paper. ‘Stealing’ all her mother’s jewelry and her family heirlooms to pawn off, she left at an opportune time when her father was now home for the night. She had more than enough cash to get her by comfortably for a while, she went place to place aimless really only driven by her fear of being found. Finally she bid farewell to Europe all together.

A couple months later she landed up in Charming, it was a small and unassuming town and she didn’t mind staying in such places longer than bigger cities, her paranoia not having left her still. But still the plan was never to stay long, that was until she met CJ, falling for him was all too easy, he seemed to bring out her true self, the person she had always kept hidden away as she never was meant to be heard but only seem in her old life. Charming grew on her, and for the first time she felt a sense of security. Being new to town she didn’t learn about the presence of MC right away though, though she trusted CJ by then, had seen so many of the members of the MC around town and really they didn’t even come close to how frightening she’d found the men in her old life. In the beginning she considered telling him the truth about her past constantly but the fear hadn’t left her, she became scared each time she tried afraid if she even acknowledged her past she would manifest her demons to return to her present.

In truth Sana very much saw Irene as someone else entirely, she felt more herself as Sana than she ever did trapped and scared as she was all those years as Irene. Soon her new realty overtook her past identity, overtime the fear ceased and she believed that her past was simply a bad nightmare if they hadn’t caught up to her after all this time, there was no way they could find her now. She had no way to predict just how rapidly the world would begin to change, how connected it would become.

Her first couple years in town she worked odd jobs around town, once she’d settled into a comfortable routine and was no longer looking over her shoulder waiting for the other shoe to drop she was able to explore some of the passions she never had the opportunity to before, expressing herself through art became the outlet she needed to truly put her demons to rest. Sculpting was her favorite medium and she ended up slowly making that her occupation, her pieces sold well online, and she slowly began to gain recognition. She also ventured into woodwork around the time they moved into their first house, it stemmed from her desire to create the exact right things she envisioned for their home but simply couldn’t find for purchase or find at a reasonable price.

Sana in those years was beyond happy and in love, though she did often grow troubled when things became increasingly violent among the MC, as tensions increased with the gang Sana worried for CJ’s safety, more so each time he returned home bloody and bruised. The fear of losing him a source of consistent anxiety, as it would mean that she would once again be alone in the world. She understood what the MC meant to him, they were as much her family as his actual family, yet it couldn’t help but feel distressed when the activities he got into with them threatened his wellness. Though it was ultimately not the MC that lead to the undoing of their marriage but her past finally catching up with her.

It was ultimately the recognition she’d gotten from her artwork that lead him to her. A picture taken somewhere probably years ago identifying her in the present, making it’s way someway some how to his countenance. Seen my someone she once knew perhaps, shared perhaps unmaliciously among her old friends, as they recalled the girl they once knew. And had unknowingly damned. And the hurt pride of the man she’d ran away from all those years ago calling for retribution, leading him right to her. Ömer had become everything she’d once feared, a resourceful yet ruthless man with too much power, and only bad intentions. He had her watched, her and everyone she held dear. Allowing him to find the perfect way to reenter her life and cause the most destruction possible. Lilah had only just been born when he made himself known to her blackmailing her with the promise to make things very uncomfortable for her husband and everyone she cared for. She had always been afraid of him, and didn’t doubt any of it. But of course he was as magnanimous as he had been the last time they’d seen one another. The choice was hers she could go willingly, and tear herself away from everyone she loved and suffer, or watch harm come to those around her at his hands.

The choice wasn’t hard, she practically begged him to allow her to sever all ties with them herself, in a way that would be permeant so that CJ would never want to turn back and even think about her. Leveraging the tensions that had already been present in her marriage she further escalated every fight, began to say truly hurtful things. And finally the last nail in the coffin, allowing him to find her in bed with someone he absolutely hated. That did it, they got a divorce and abruptly she gave up all her rights to the kids, citing that she wanted to be free of Charming for good.

Ömer got what he wanted, retribution for the damage she’d done to his pride and reputation by running away, for evading him entirely when they searched for her across the country in the time after. It was a matter of pride, and the fact that he had his own wife and children didn’t deter him from seeing her suffer when he’d finally found her. She’d all but handed herself to him on a silver platter, and she suffered for it of course at his hand and her fathers. Learning finally after all that time what had become of her mother without her, that really did shatter her spirit. But it was the thought of her children that eventually allowed her to find the strength she needed to find away a way to be rid of them for good. She’d known from the start that couldn’t be done in Charming, so leaving her family had been necessary to be rid of her worry of any harm coming to them. 

She leveraged the connections she’d had years ago, the children of some of the most powerful people in the country had gone on to became notable themselves as their parents had always intended after all. And not all of them were like her family. The friend who’d helped her all those years ago especially, as she was now working for Interpol. It took over three years but she finally managed to unravel her father’s political ties, and the justice system at the highest levels took care of the rest. Extracting from him many notable names. Finally she knew what it felt like to be truly free, inheriting everything the government didn’t cease being her father’s next of kin she really was free to live her life however she chose to. Though there was no where she’d rather go than home, Charming.

Sana may be at lose as to how to even begin to explain herself, and fully aware that CJ might never forgive her but that hasn’t deterred her from returning. At the very least she would like to be a part of Theo and Lilah’s life, not wanting to ever feel as though their mother didn’t love them, and just abandoned them without ever caring to look back. If she can mend everything else that she broke that would be more than she can ask for.

W A N T E D   C O N N E C T I O N S

Best Friend - Someone she befriended upon her arrival to Charming who became as close to her as a sibling, this person is also the only person she confided her truth in a few years into their friendship as she needed to get the burden it off her chest. Though did not even tell them when Ömer found her.

Close Friends - The people she spent time with most frequently around town, those who had an open door in her home, and workshop who she was always available to should they need anything at all.

Old Hired Help / Little Brother Figure - Someone who was in his late teens 7-8 years ago who used to help out with the heavy lifting around her workshop, accompany her to craft/art shows and things when needed. She felt fondly of him like the younger brother she never had almost.

Literally anything, I tend to run out of ideas when I wind down a long intro so just reach out and we can throw around some ideas!

@charmingintro​

[itsafanficthing]

My Sassenach - Chapter Two

Because why not.

If A03 is more your thing: here

Chapter One: Here

---

“The date went well.”

That was putting it mildly. Claire didn’t actually know how to describe her first date with Jamie. Mind blowing. Extraordinary. Overwhelming. Satisfying. There were too many ways for her to describe it.

Easy. It had been easy; once they were past the awkwardness and pressure of a first date. One evening to determine if the person sitting across from you, or next to you at the bar as Jamie had sat, was worth entertaining the thought of a second.

“Well?” Geillis repeated somewhat skeptically. “That does’na sound promising.”

Claire hummed, trying for nonchalance and failing miserably. Her cheeks gave her away first as they flamed bright red as she thought about Jamie lying in her bed and the steps that had led him there. Next to go was her mouth, as it became devoid of any moisture as she thought about Jamie’s touch on her skin and her reluctance to let him leave the following morning. Not meeting Geillis’ eyes as she tried to shrug was the nail in the coffin.

“Claire Beauchamp. What aren’t ye tellin’ me?” Gellis demanded as her eyes widened at her friend.

Claire cleared her throat before responding, “It went very well.”

“Verra well, is it?” Gellis crossed her arms, eyeing Claire up and down.

Claire nodded quickly, avoiding looking directly at Geillis, knowing that once she did, it would be useless and Gellis would soon drag every last scandalous detail out of her.

“Spit it out. What aren’t ye tellin’ me?”

“Nothing,” Claire replied too quickly and too loudly. Geillis was like a bloodhound on the hunt. She slapped her hand down on the table, making Claire jump.

“Is he married? Divorced? Multitude of bairns runnin’ about the countryside with 12 different women? He’s a criminal? Smuggler? His cock is bent?” Gellis continued a litany of guesses before Claire interrupted her.

“None of those things. It was a perfectly lovely date.”

“Will ye see him again?” Geillis pushed, clearly unsatisfied.

“Yes, I believe so,” Claire replied demurely, eyes focused on her nails, rather than the burning glare of her best friend.

“Ye… ye believe so,” Geillis repeated in exasperation. “Christ, it’s like pulling teeth.”

Claire grinned in response as her phone vibrated in her pocket.

“Did I, or did I no’ call ye the second my date with Dougal ended? Did I,” Gellis continued holding up her hand to stop Claire’s interruption, “call ye the morning after we’d finally done the deed to describe to ye in exquisite detail, our night together?”

“Yes, but I didn’t ask you for any of that. Especially the “exquisite detail” of your night of debauchery,” Claire counted as Gellis scoffed in disbelief.

“Ye did’na have to ask. Such the friend that I am, I willingly shared the intimate details of my night with ye. And ye will’na even tell me about yer date, beyond “it went well”.”

Claire snorted in laughter as Geillis continued.

“Far be it from me to be interested in my best friends life. To be interested in the men that are interested in her. And need I remind ye, that wi’out me, ye woulda have even had yer “lovely” date.”

“How do you figure that?”

“Was it not I that suggested ye go as yerself and not some other numpty?” Geillis’s green eyes zeroed in on Claire.

“Well yes but–” Claire started before Geillis interrupted her.

“And was it not I that asked yer Wee Fox out for a date when ye’d been speaking with the lad all night and somehow never managed to get that bit done?”

“Well yes, I suppose–” Claire tried to interject but there was no stopping Geillis once she’d started.

“So do ye not owe me the kindness of tellin’ me about what happened on the date that I had an 80% hand in setting up?”

“80%?” Claire questioned.

“Fine. 75%,” Geillis conceded. “Now tell me about yer date.”

“Have you thought about being a lawyer? Wasted talent in my opinion,” Claire mumbled as she shuffled on her seat uncomfortably.

“Yes, I’m brilliant. Get on wi’ it.” Geillis waved her hand impatiently, brushing away Claire’s comment.

“Maybe a priest. You can certainly preach well enough."

"Aye, but we all ken I'm no' getting' inta the holy land. Now get on wi' it."

Fine,” Claire groaned as she rolled her eyes at her friend. “Well you saw what I wore, I sent you that picture.”

Geillis nodded excitedly, clearly thrilled that Claire was finally giving up the details.

“I arrived at the bar early–”

“Course ye did,” Geillis chuckled under breath.

“And he wasn’t there so I had a glass of wine.”

“Christ, ye were’na shitfaced when he arrived, were ye?”

“Goodness no!” Claire laughed. “What do you take me for?”

Geillis fixed her with a look.

“Don’t answer that,” Claire said quickly, stopping whatever her friend had been about to say. “I was contemplating ordering a second before he arrived and then… he was there... Tapping me on the shoulder.”

Claire paused, wondering how she was ever going to get to the part of Jamie’s virginity, or for that matter– if she would even tell Geillis that part.

“And?” Geillis prompted when Claire’s silence had apparently gone on long enough.

“And,” Claire exaggerated, “I was awkward and babbling. I knocked my wine glass over, it was empty, thank goodness... and it was a first date,” she finished somewhat lamely.

“Tha’s it? That’s all yer going to tell me?” Geillis asked skeptically.

“Well, once the awkwardness settled and we were a few more wines in, we chatted, and then he took me out for a bite to eat.”

“What did ye have?” Geillis interrupted.

“If you must know… a burger.”

Geillis almost shouted with laughter. “If ye two get married, ye can thank me for that. I’ll put it in my bridesmaid’s speech; about how if it was’na for yer wisest oldest… best looking friend, ye wouldn’t have gone on that date as yerself and ye wouldn’t be married wi’ sixteen children.”

“I thought this was your bridesmaid’s speech? Why do I have sixteen children? And who said you were my best looking friend? You are entirely discounting Joe,” Claire argued as Geillis continued to grin at her.

“I’m jus’ sayin’, I should be the first one ye thank when yer givin’ yer wedding toast.”

“It’s only been one date. I hardly think wedding bells are ringing.” Claire shook her head, smiling at her friend. It really was thanks to Geillis that she went on her date with Jamie, and she really did owe her… not that she would ever admit that out loud. The gloating from Geillis would be too much to bear.

“So then what happened when ye were stuffing yer gob?” Geillis prompted, earning a disapproving look from Claire.

“I did not “stuff my gob”. I still have some decorum.”

“Aye, sure,” Geillis rolled her eyes, “I’ve seen ye after a few wines. I ken what ye look like when yer hungry.”

“So, after the burgers we… erm… we went home.” Claire looked away, unable to meet Geillis’ eyes and that was ultimately her downfall. For a moment Geillis was silent, and then the barrage started.

“Ye… ye went home… separately. No, of course not. Why would ye not be able to look at me when ye said that? And ye would have said something like “and then we called it a night, made plans to catch up again, he text me when he got home saying what a nice time he had”–”

“He did do that actually. When he got home,” Claire interrupted, trying to derail Geillis current train of thought.

“Aye, but when did he get home?” Geillis asked raising an eyebrow at Claire. “Ye said, we went home. WE, Claire. WE. Ye went home with him. Or he went home with you. Either way, ye went home together.”

When Claire didn’t respond, Geillis actually hooted. Claire had never heard Geillis hoot before. It wasn’t quite a squeal, nor a scream, but closer to a yell. It was certainly an exclamation and several other patrons at the coffee shop turned to look at the two women sitting by the window.

“I knew it!” Geillie announced in victory. “I knew it when ye walked in. I said to myself, “there’s something different about Claire”. I thought that the date just must have gone well, but no, this is different. Claire Beauchamp, you’ve been well and truly fucked.”

“Keep your voice down!” Claire hissed at her friend, trying to hide from the glares of other customers behind her unruly mass of curls.

“Ye are’na denying it though,” Geillis continued victoriously. “Oh. My. God. Tell me everything!”

“I’m not telling you anything if you’re going to act like a horny teenager at the slight implication that we went home together. We might have gone home and played jenga for all you know,” Claire replied indignantly.

“Aye, but ye did’na, did ye? And it was’na a slight implication, ye did go home together, didn’t ye?”

The expression “shit-eating-grin” came to Claire’s mind as she looked at her best friend, who was smiling back at her triumphantly.

Claire pursed her lips and tried to look menacingly at Geillis, whose smile only widened. It had never worked before, she didn’t know what made her think that a stern look would stop her now.

“Fine, yes, we went home together, and yes I’ve been well and truly fucked,” Claire hissed the words and Geillis sat back in her chair proudly as Claire buried her burning face in her hands.

“On a first date. Tsk, tsk,” Geillis tutted as Claire tried to bury herself further into her hands. “Ye said ye had some decorum.” Geillis snorted again as Claire audibly groaned. “How was he then? Ye look… satisfied, I’ll give ye that.”

“It was… it was very good,” Claire mumbled as Geillis grinned.

“‘Very good’, she says. Yer face is saying a bit more than verra good, let me tell ye.” Geillis laughed at Claire’s expression.

“So ye have plans on seeing the lad again then?” she asked demurely, seemingly she had gotten what she wanted, which was Claire’s embarrassment.

“Yes,” Claire groaned looking up again at her friend. She was never going to hear the end of this. “Tomorrow actually. He’s taking me on a whisky tour.”

“A whisky tour? Ye dinna even drink the stuff. I bought ye a bottle, a verra good bottle might I add, a few years ago and I’ve not seen hide nor hair of it since I gave it to ye.” Geillis frowned at Claire. “Did ye even talk to him about what ye like? Or did he just not listen?”

“Well, no… that bottle… when we got home… I cracked it open and we had a sampling.”

“Christ!” Geillis exclaimed. “Must have been some date to open that.”

“Well I didn’t know it was a good bottle. How should I know that you bought me a bottle of very expensive scottish whisky?”

“Because I’m yer best friend and I do nice things for ye?” Geillis replied in confusion making Claire laugh.

“You are my best friend,” Claire agreed, “but I don’t know about the nice things part. In any case,” Claire spoke louder over the top of whatever Geillis’ rebuttal was going to be, “he knows that I don’t know whisky so it was his suggestion that we go for a tour and I can learn.”

“Perfectly good waste of a fine bottle of whisky, on yer first date if ye ask me. Bet ye hardly even drank any of the stuff a’fore ye were tearing each others clothes off,” Geillis continued to grumble.

“The bottle’s open now. Feel free to come over and drink as much as you like.” Claire smiled as Geillis rolled her eyes.

“Ye ken I’m taking ye up on that,” Geillis said before tossing back the remainder of her coffee.

“Wouldn’t doubt it,” Claire laughed as she picked up her bag and her phone vibrated in her pocket again.

--

Standing in front of her mirror Claire fiddled with her cardigan, fussed over her hair and checked her makeup. This was the second date. She’d already slept with the man, how badly could this date go? She considered straightening her hair, but she knew what Geillis would say if she found out that she did, and Claire decided that it wouldn’t be worth the beratement from her friend.

How was one supposed to dress for a second date anyway? Or at least a whisky tour? She’d settled on jeans and a simple t-shirt. It wasn’t over the top and at least she was comfortable. But she should be putting in more effort? Was her make up alright? She wasn’t wearing that much, so maybe she should put in a little more effort.

Geillis’ voice chastised her in her head. “Go as yerself and not some other numpty.”

Claire shook her head and looked herself over once more in her mirror. This was as good as it was going to get, and if Jamie couldn’t see that, then that was on him. Besides… he had seen her first thing in the morning, no make up with mussed up “sex hair” so surely what she was wearing right now couldn’t be that bad. He had wanted another go another round after eating the toast and having some coffee the next morning, so really, she clearly couldn't look completely horrendous when she put in at least a little bit of effort.

Why was she overthinking this? Why was she so nervous? Claire knew the answer to that; it was because she actually liked Jamie. It had only been one date, but she did quite like him and if the second date didn’t go well… she wouldn’t be heartbroken, it was far too early for thoughts like that, but she would be disappointed. She supposed, there were still other “fish in the sea” but Jamie seemed like quite a catch.

She wasn’t quite ready to delete the dating app from her phone, and there was still Frank that she could message back if she wanted to. Why was she thinking about another man- one that she hadn’t even spoken to- before her date with Jamie?

Nerves. She was nervous. And she was trying to protect herself. If things with Jamie didn’t work out, even after their excellent first date, if today, their second didn’t go well… well at least she’d tried. At least she had back up. At least she would be ok.

Huffing and shaking her head, Claire picked up her bag and locked her apartment. Ready or not, she was going on a second date.

—

They agreed to meet at the whisky distillery rather than carpool. Claire was nervous and couldn’t maintain conversation with her Uber driver. Only managing a few “uh-huh’s” and “mmm sure’s” in response to whatever he had been asking. Soon he gave up trying to engage her in conversation and they continued the journey in silence.

2pm. That’s what Jamie has said. 2pm at the Scotch Whisky Experience. Claire’s knees were bouncing in the car and then shaking upon her exit. 1:38pm. Of course she was bloody early. She was always bloody early.

Claire looked around to see Edinburgh Castle looming beside her. She hadn’t walked through the castle in goodness knows how long. It was very touristy and as much as Claire was very decidedly not from Edinburgh, she did feel like she was more of a local nowadays. Geillis had a big hand in that, opening her home, and her city to Claire when she had first arrived. Would there ever be a part in Claire’s life where Geillis was not somehow involved?

20 minutes to kill. What was she going to do for 20 minutes? Claire huffed in frustration. She was too anxious about being late so she arrived stupidly early. Maybe she should have stayed in the Uber and made the driver go around the city for a few loops.

Spying a free bench under a tree that was providing absolutely no protection from the sun at all, Claire decisively made her way over and was about to take a seat when a voice interrupted her.

“Claire.”

Christ. It had been 48 hours and his voice still did things to her insides. Claire turned back slowly toward the sun to see the outline of Jamie standing in front of her. She blinked a couple of times, trying to clear the glare from her eyes. Was she always going to be perpetually awkward and dumb when it came to Jamie?

“Jamie, Hi,” she smiled at him. What was the protocol here? Was she meant to hug him? Kiss him? Shake hands? They’d slept together and then parted ways. There was no rule book for this. Were they dating? Was this exclusive? Was this far too soon to be thinking about any of that? Yes was the definitive answer to that particular question and Claire shook her head looking down at her feet. Good lord, she was embarrassing. Thankfully Jamie couldn’t read her mind or else he’d be running for the hills from the idiot, love sick puppy standing in front of him.

Jamie’s fingers were tapping against his thighs in an uneasy drumbeat.

“Good to see ye again,” he said ducking forward to her.

Unfortunately at the exact same moment Claire said “you’re looking well,” and moved forward to give him a hug. A hug was, after all, a friendly gesture.

Claire’s chin collided with Jamie’s shoulder and she jolted forward in pain. Jamie’s hand was somehow in between their bodies and as Claire lurched forward his fist collided with her stomach, somewhat winding her.

“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ,” Claire gasped one hand flying to her chin, the other to her stomach.

Jamie jumped about a foot in the air at the exclamation and his hands fluttered around her helplessly.

“Dhia, I’m sorry Sassenach. Are ye alright?” He sounded panicked and Claire snorted with laughter which turned into a gasp for air as her stomach muscles recoiled.

“Give me a second. Just winded me is all.” Claire held up a finger as she doubled over and tried to take some deep breaths.

“I’m so sorry.” Jamie was shuffling from foot to foot as Claire tried to catch her breath.

“What’s your shoulder made of? Cement? Nearly shattered my jaw,” Claire said as she slowly stood up straight and rubbed her bruised chin.

“Just bone as far as I’m aware,” Jamie answered nervously running his hands through his hair with nerves. “Are ye alright? Jesus. I’m so sorry.”

“I’m fine,” Claire tried to smile. The pain was already subsiding but goodness it had hurt.

“Great start to our date, aye,” Jamie said sheepishly.

“You certainly took my breath away,” Claire joked and Jamie let out a breath of relief.

“Aye, I’ve been told I have that effect on women,” Jamie replied lightly.

“Well, with a right hook like that, I’m not surprised.”

“Truly Claire. I am so sorry. Are ye alright?” Jamie asked in concern again as Claire nodded in response. “Ye still want to go on a date with me?”

“I suppose so. I’m already here, and we did already buy the tickets. Seems like it would be a shame to waste them,” Claire grinned at him and watched as his face relaxed in relief. “Maybe just warn me before you make any sudden moves so I have at least a chance to prepare myself.”

“Aye, will do.” Jamie grinned as his cheeks darkened slightly and a smattering of red flush appeared on his throat. “Just one more thing…”

“What’s that?” Claire asked curiously before Jamie, with slow, exaggerated and deliberate movements linked their hands together.

“Ye look lovely, Sassenach,” Jamie said before ducking down and placing a swift kiss on her cheek, making her blush.

—-

Whisky tasting, as it turned out, was quite a lot of fun, especially with a private expert who whispered facts while sampling the smokey alcohol.

Jamie laughed as Claire’s nose scrunched up upon tasting a very old, very rare whisky that Jamie insisted was like honey. Claire thought it tasted more like eating a mouthful of ash, but she wasn’t about to say that to Jamie or their host.

Claire watched in fascination as Jamie chatted with their guide, asking poignant questions about their ageing process and the barrels they were using. Anyone would think that Jamie owned his own distillery with the way that he spoke to the guide. Claire soon stopped listening to the questions Jamie was asking in favour of simply watching him talk about something that he clearly loved.

He spoke a lot with his hands when he was particularly passionate about something. He moved fluidly as he tried to articulate with his hands what he couldn’t with his words. When he laughed at something the guide said, the rumble started somewhere deep in his chest before exploding from his mouth and Claire could help but smile and chuckle along as well, even if she had no idea what she was laughing at.

When he was listening intently to something the guide was saying (for the life of her, Claire had no idea what it was) there was a crease that appeared between Jamie’s eyebrows as he lost himself deep in thought. He nodded in understanding, a slow and measured move before he asked his next question.

His fingers tapped impatiently against the bar as the guide turned and spoke to some other patrons and Jamie waited to monopolise his time again, a fresh barrage of questions in his arsenal, ready to fire.

The guide himself seemed thrilled that someone like Jamie was in his audience and would more than likely have spent all his time indulging Jamie’s questions, if not for the other guests that had also paid for his services.

“Are ye enjoying yerself?” Jamie asked snapping Claire out of her study of him.

Claire thought about the amount of time she had spent watching Jamie in comparison to actually listening to the distillery owner talk about the whisky creation process, or for that matter, actually sampling the whisky.

“I am,” she replied with a smile. He didn’t need to know what the smile meant, or that is was specifically from the joy of watching and learning about him. “You certainly seem to know your stuff.”

“Ach,” Jamie grunted and waved away her comment with his hand. “My father and my uncle worked in a distillery when they were younger, passed the love of good whisky down the line, I s'pose.”

“You take a lot of your dates on whisky tours then? Impress them with your knowledge?” Claire asked slyly, turning on the stool she was sitting on to face him properly.

“No’ really no,” Jamie answered seriously. “I usually have much better taste in women, who already ken their way around the drink.”

Claire scoffed in response, playfully whacking him on his arm. “Date a lot of alcoholics, do you?”

“Aye, must be why it has‘na worked out for me. I always loose them somewhere between the fourth and nineteenth drink.”

“Have you considered that they were drinking to forget your awful company?” Claire teased as Jamie shuffled his stool closer to her.

“Why, Sassenach! How dare ye! And here I was thinking that we were having a lovely time!” Jamie replied in mock outrage.

“You did greet me by almost dislocating my jaw and socking me in the stomach,” Claire pointed out with a grin, which widened as Jamie’s cheeks flushed with colour. “Not to mention the fact that you’ve spent most of our date with our tour guide.”

“Well he’s a very fetching man, Sassenach.”

Claire looked over to the barrel chested 50-something man, who had clearly enjoyed a life of whisky if his reddened cheeks and prominent belly were anything to go by.

“What a monumental disappointment I must be, if that’s your type,” Claire snorted as she looked back at Jamie. He was looking at her intently and she felt herself blush slightly under the intensity of his gaze.

“Aye, ye’ll do,” Jamie hummed before the guide approached them with a new sample and Jamie was lost once more in the experience.

—

Their date was coming to a close and now there was one question on both of their lips. Owing to how their first date had ended, how could they think of anything else? Your place, mine, or neither? Claire had a good time with Jamie. He made her laugh and blush profusely when he complimented her, but they had rushed things when they’d slept together on the first date. Claire didn’t regret it, of course, but she knew that it had been too soon, especially as she planned to see Jamie for many... many more dates.

And so where did that leave her now? Was it an expectation that she would take him immediately home and ravage him (not that the thought was far from her mind, of course). Something about this date was different though. They had moved passed the awkwardness of the first date. The awkwardness of knowing that an app on a phone was responsible for bringing two people together.

And what an odd thought it was. The algorithm that simply located two people within a certain radius, a certain age group, with a certain preference and that were both willing to date; to bring two people together that were meant to be what? Soulmates? No that was perhaps too strong of a word. But two people that were meant to find, what was it? Satisfaction? With one another? What an odd thought that was to entertain.

Claire, however, was still left with the conundrum of what were she and Jamie supposed to do now? It was too early for dinner, too late for lunch. While not completely inebriated from the tour, Claire was decidedly tipsy. She wasn’t sure how Jamie was faring after the alcohol consumption but he seemed to be standing quite solidly next to her.

Though, Claire had decided, they had moved passed the awkwardness of the first date and getting to know each other, here she was feeling very, very awkward about what was supposed to be her next steps.

Was she supposed to invite Jamie back to her place… again? Were they supposed to just part ways and wait for the next date? Surely there would be no harm in kissing him goodbye. She’d remembered how he kissed her and what it did to her insides and she involuntarily shivered at the memory.

“Are ye cold?” Jamie asked snapping her out of her inner monologue. It was the middle of summer and no doubt it must have been at least 28 degrees (which was wildly warm for Scotland, even at the peak of summer, but global warming was a myth right?).

“No, no, I’m fine,” Claire replied, slightly embarrassed that Jamie could see her physical reaction to him. Although, she couldn’t really avoid it with Jamie standing as close to her as he was.

“Well, I … ahh,” Jamie began and Claire realised he was as lost as she was when it came to their next steps.

“I had a nice time. Very informative.” Claire swallowed the lump in her throat. Should she just invite him back to her place? It didn’t seem like that kind of a date.

“I’ll make a Scot of ye yet,” Jamie smiled at her as she snorted in response.

“Is that what you’re trying to do? After only two dates? I think you’ve got your work cut out for you, good sir.”

“Oh aye?” Jamie replied, his eyes alight with mischief. “Why’s that?”

“I’m an English woman. Born and raised,” Claire retorted. Which was not technically true. While she was born in England, Oxfordshire to be exact, Claire had grown up all over the world, only spending the latter of her teenage years back in her homeland. “The blue blood of royalty runs in these veins. You can take the girl from the motherland, but you can’t take the motherland from the girl.”

Jamie grunted in response, a sound that sounded so distinctly Scottish and so distinctly Jamie that Claire scoffed with laughter.

“Truly are a Sassenach, then aren’t ye?”

“It would appear so,” Claire readily agreed. The name didn’t sound so bad coming from Jamie. It was, dare she think it, somewhat sexy when he said it.

“Canna say I did’na try then,” Jamie admitted with a shrug.

“Canna indeed.”

Jamie grinned at Claire’s (atrocious) replication of his accent, shaking his head at her, she was sure she heard him mutter “terrible” under his breath before he looked back up at her.

“Well. I suppose we should call it a day then,” Jamie said nervously. His hand rubbed the back of his neck; a habit, Claire had noted, he did when he was nervous or uncomfortable.

“Yes, I suppose we should. Unless there are any more whisky facts that you insist that I should know.” Claire looked up at him hopefully, not quite wanting their date to end.

Jamie thought for a moment, before looking back at her, his eyes bright with an inside joke that Claire wasn’t quite a part of yet.

“Tasting whisky. It’s similar to somethin’ that ye’ve said to me,” he said confidently.

“Oh?”

Jamie nodded seriously, but Claire could somehow see the humour in his eyes.

“Aye. When ye taste whisky,” Jamie paused for dramatic effect and Claire nodded eager for him to continue, “go slow, and pay attention.”

—

Claire left Jamie feeling giddy. They had parted ways but not before Jamie had kissed her, with an intense kind of passion that was sure to stay with her for several days. They made plans to see each other again, but with Claire’s night rotation coming up, things were made quite difficult.

Eight days. Eight days before she would be able to see Jamie again. She could still text him of course, but it wasn’t quite the same as seeing him, sitting with him, watching him, listening to him… kissing him.

She was somewhat glad they hadn’t gone back to either of their places after their date. Their first had been so rushed, it was nice to start slowing down with each other and giving themselves the space to start growing a relationship.

A relationship. After two dates. Is that how quickly it always worked? You clicked with someone and that was it? Exclusivity? After two dates… they hadn’t discussed it of course. It was much too soon for that. Or was it? Claire wasn’t the type to see several people at once. Especially since she had connected with Jamie more than she had connected with any other man. But the thought of seeing other people didn’t interest her and she was embarrassed to admit that the thought of Jamie seeing someone else made her stomach turn.

She would need to ask Geillis about how quickly she fell for Dougal and what the protocol was for being exclusive. Although, perhaps that was a can of worms she was not prepared to open.

Eight days. It seemed like such a long time but at least she would be occupied with work. At least that would take her mind off Jamie and over analyzing every detail of their two dates; trying to find what went right, wrong and anything in between.

Eight days. That was when she planned on seeing Jamie again. Sunday night. They were going to have dinner. They hadn’t decided where yet, maybe a restaurant or maybe one of their places. Jamie had boasted about his ability to cook, and while Claire was not completely redundant in the kitchen, she was by no means the chef that Jamie had made himself out to be.

Eight days. That’s when she was expecting to see Jamie again, and so it was a complete surprise her she saw him walking down the street, arm in arm with a shorter dark haired woman, stopping outside a cafe, throwing his head back in laughter at something she said, then swooping down to kiss her on the cheek.

Claire felt her stomach drop to somewhere around her ankles and struggled to pick it back up. They hadn’t discussed exclusivity. Claire had just assumed, and perhaps she shouldn’t have. It only “made and ass of you and me” as her uncle used to say. Well, Jamie was certainly a very specific type of ass, maybe an arse was more accurate and Claire very much felt like an ass for thinking that what they had was something deeper.

She shook her head trying to clear it, she’d just come off a night shift and maybe she was seeing things. She could just stroll past the coffee shop and take a peek inside. Perhaps it was nothing.

Gathering her courage Claire slowly passed by the coffee shop, walking slowly in the pretext of looking for something in her bag, while slyly trying to look through the window. There was no mistaking Jamie, as large as he was with red hair on show- it was definitely him. Claire felt her heart squeeze in adoration as somehow his large frame was squeezed into a small and delicate coffee table and chair. But there was also no mistaking the way that he was holding the other woman’s hand across the table, looking at her with soft eyes as he nodded at her. He squeezed her hand before he jumped up, pulled the woman with him and grabbed her in a bone crushing hug.

Claire couldn’t watch anymore. It was embarrassing and a wave of shame and regret passed through her body like lava, slow and burning from the top of her head through to her toes. As she turned away from the window trying to regulate her breathing, it was like a bucket of ice was thrown over her and her body struggled to regulate its temperature. Shame. Embarrassment.

Claire felt tears spring to her eyes. She was being ridiculous. She was just tired. Well, if Jamie was going to see other people, then so was she. They hadn’t discussed exclusivity after all. Perhaps this was her own fault for moving too quickly too soon. She’d “popped his cherry” as it were and now he was looking to roll his oats...sow his oats- whatever the saying was; Claire couldn’t think properly. She was still standing stupidly in front of the window and she heard her name being called, muffled from behind the glass of the cafe. She needed to get out of there.

She quickly turned on her heel, pulling headphones from her bag and stuffing them into her ears. She walked quickly in the hope that Jamie wouldn’t follow her. It’s not like he would abandon his date to go chasing down after her. That would be ridiculous. She heard her name being called again and she kept her head down. It wasn’t muffled now, he was clearly outside of the cafe. He called again and she crossed the road. She hadn’t even turned on music to drown out the sound. She heard him call once more before she turned the corner out of his sight, and fell against the wall of a building, breathing heavily.

Opening up the dating app on her phone, she scrolled quickly to find the message that Frank Randall had sent her and without giving it a second thought, she replied.

They hadn’t said anything about exclusivity, after all.

[fluorescentpipedream]

I love when new characters talk to me, and especially when they involve established characters in what they’re telling me. So here’s a few new things

-Reverend is RJ’s son, with his brother’s wife. When RJ first came into my head, he established he was Rev’s uncle and his brother hated him because he’d fucked his wife, not once but twice. The first time was 2 days before their wedding and the second happened sometime in the middle of their marriage, before Rev was born.

Turns out there’s a bit more to that. RJ and Willow (There’s a reason all of the Jamison boys have weird names, mom was a hippie, though now she’s turned into more of a Stepford) has been dating throughout most of high school. Or...what you might call dating. RJ would take her out on his bike, they’d have sex and then get dinner somewhere before he’d take her home. He was very much in love with her but him going nowhere fast in life scared her because she wanted security more than love. RJ’s brother Darren somehow convinced her that his brother was never going to marry her, or give her a safe, secure life (he was in a gang, after all) and so she ended up running off with him. Pissed and hurt because his brother not only stole his girl but it seemed that his girl never actually loved him, RJ got her into bed with one more time, before they were married, and had his way with her. Afterward, he told her she’ll never get what she wants out of his brother, they both know she’s a trashy little whore and likes to be treated like it. She slapped him, married his brother and 2 years later had their first son, Dax. (I’ll have to figure out everyone’s ages, the way it’s looking RJ might be 50 instead of 42)

When Dax is 5, RJ was just getting out of jail and with nowhere to go, he fell onto his brother’s house in suburbia, seemingly trying to get his feet back on the ground. The Slayers have his back, of course, but he spent 7 years in jail for possession with intent to sell and was released due to overcrowding and the non-hostile nature of his crime made him less of a dangerous criminal. His brother spends several days berating RJ, continuously referring to him by Robert instead of his monicure, which he hates. When Darren leaves home for a business trip, he tells his brother he can stay for another week, then he’s got to leave. He can’t have “his type” in this neighborhood. Willow ends up crawling into bed with him the same night her husband leaves on his trip and the two spend most of that week doing nothing other than each other. Before Darren returns home, RJ tells Willow he’s leaving, she’s not going to get to keep him as a fuck toy unless she tells his brother the truth.

Afraid of losing her nice house and fancy car, she instead tells Darren that RJ raped her and threatened Dax. Darren confronts his brother and the two go at each other, ending with RJ pulling his switchblade on his brother and telling him that Willow is only with him for his money. Enraged and unable to think straight, RJ breaks into their house while the two are visiting the Hamptons and steals money that Darren has hidden, even from his wife, in Dax’s toy box. He ends up arrested, this time for trespassing but there’s no real proof he did anything. Dax had been home when it happened, never really allowed to go to the Hamptons or anywhere else with his parents and told the police that RJ only got him some water and spent the night on the floor of his room before leaving when the babysitter came back. His parents get in a little trouble because their sitter wasn’t staying all night though they claim not to know anything about that.He’d seen his uncle but refused to tattle on time, RJ never hurt him, didn’t even threaten him. (Who threatens a 5 year old?)

Willow seeks out RJ about 4 months later and says she’s pregnant with his kid and he needs to take “responsibility for his crimes against her” He tells her to get fucked, if she wants him to take care of it so bad, give him the kid. She never comes back, and 5 months later gives birth to Reverend. Her husband knows he’s RJ’s kid and they raise Rev with the same kind of hands-off, who cares as long as we’re rich, mentality that Dax had gotten up til then.

-When Rev gets into middle school he meets Zachary Sullivan, though because of a speech impediment he’s unable to say Zach, he starts calling his new friend Jax. Jax takes it, originally finding the younger boy annoying but eventually they become pretty fast friends. Especially since Jax is the “wrong sort” Willow and Darren want their son hanging around, that fuels a fire in both boys and they become inseparable. Jax learns about blood brothers from something he’s reading so he and Rev do that, cutting their hands and agreeing they will always be friends. Every attempt by Darren and Willow to separate the boys fail, and eventually Rev’s parents throw in the towel and give up altogether.

-when Jax is 19, he tries to go through the Slayers’ initiation, which culiminates in getting into a pit with the leader’s pet tiger, Zara. She’s generally well behaved but a bit battle scarred as she’s been doing this for some time. (RJ gave her the scar above her right eye when he went through it when she was still young) Rev never made it past the first round of tests, but he’s supporting Jax when he climbs into the tiger pit. Jax can’t stand the heat, though bows out gracefully as you can when faced with a massive tiger growling at you. He’s told to leave, but at least gained the respect of the Slayers.

-Jax joins a small gang of petty car thieves, and Rev does as well and over time, Jax becomes their leader, pushing the original guy down below him. Damien is pissed but Jax doesn’t stay in that position all that long. He gets involved with a man named John but is rather unceremoniously thrown into a dumpster when John’s friend Ryki, who is also a member of Jax’s gang, finds out what kind of abusive boyfriend he is.

-Rev, having just been arrested while the Jax, John and Ryki thing is happening, is bailed out by his father who is utterly disgusted by the boy with scattered tattoos, and blue streaks in his hair (which John did). While driving Rev home and angrily venting about how this behavior is going to stop, Darren pops off with how he shouldn’t be surprised, Rev is turning out just like his good for nothing father. Confused, Rev asks what he means and finds out Darren’s side of the truth, which his mother repeats, almost word for word. Angry and confused, he asks Dax, who is packing to leave home as well, not wanting to deal with this train wreck of a family anymore. Especially since their parents now have Falco, their baby brother and model to dote on and use. Dax tells him that no matter what mom and dad say, uncle RJ has never been anything but kind to him. He tells Rev that he remembers their mom going into the room RJ was staying in willingly, a lot, and only getting mad when he told her he was leaving. He also tells Rev that RJ would probably have been a better father. Dax leaves that night and never looks back, moving to Las Vegas.

-Rev originally wanted to get RJ to help him but after meeting an angry Jax after Ryki “threw him away” and his crazy mother kicked him out after finding out her son is gay, the two decide to just leave California and never look back. Rev steals about $700 from his mother’s purse, and get into Jax’s POS car. Wherever it stops, they stop. They wind up in southern Illinois, moving into a small apartment complex in Belleville together. Jax isn’t gay, he’s bi, but very homophobic even towards himself. Rev meets Drake and Jax starts dating Kristy and the rest is history.

-Skip to 2006, RJ gets a call from his sister in law out of the blue telling him that his son, Reverend, has just married a psychopath in southern IL and they now have some kind of demon spawn together, before hanging up. RJ is, admittedly, a little confused by the entire conversation and thinks nothing of it until the uprising in the Slayers following the death of their leader and Queenie’s promotion to their new leader. Some understand and follow the “family don’t end in blood” rule (meaning if you’ve been brought into the Slayers and completed the initiation through the blood rite, you become family and the selection of leaders is passed on through the lines, even if that means a 3 year old kid is now your boss) Others, like the Vikings and a handful of others tried challenging the rule, causing dissent and ultimately infighting leads to RJ getting shot, twice. The first time was from Rollo when he tried to shoot Queenie. Rollo pays for that mistake by taking a barbed wire baseball bat to the face, courtesy of RJ and dies of a broken neck. The second time is by Lisa “Lagratha” his ex-lover whom he broke up with after he starting pursuing his current girlfriend and the mother of his child. While he’s on the ground and with a bullet in his hip he realizes he has a kid he’s never known, is about to be a father again and has a grandchild and he wants to have something resrmbling a relationship with them. Even if Rev tells him to fuck off, at least he would have tried.

-RJ volunteers to go to IL and speak with the gang leaders in Chicago and the Scorpions of East St Louis, figuring he’ll stop in to see Rev and the so-called psychopath while he’s there. After being met at the border of Chicago and threatened by the Marcone crime family, he heads down to Belleville to find Reverend. What he finds is pretty close to what he’d been expecting. While Drake is a little odd, her and Rev are sweet together and the boy found genuine love with her. The two talk outside for a while, RJ tells Rev he’s about to be a father himself and would like more than anything to be part of his life and that of his granddaughter’s as well if Rev would have him. Rev doesn’t put much thought into it, telling him that he and his family are going to be moving back to LA in a few months after they settle some things here, since he got offered an internship at Henson Studios and they’re going to be closer, he’d love to have Sunny know an actual grandpa, as opposed to his now estranged parents.

-RJ tells Rev by agreeing to spend time with him, he, Drake and Sunny are coming under the protection of the Slayers and if they need anything they have a very large family watching out for them. Through Rev, he also gets to meet with the East St Louis Scorpions and strikes a deal with their leader wherein one (or more if they want)of their guys gain access to the Slayers in LA and have a permanent place in their meetings and vice versa.

-RJ has two vehicles (3 if you count the silver bullet trailer he lives in), one is a ‘96 Trans AM he’s been rebuilding for a while. This is what he drives to Illinois.

The second is his motorcycle, a Harley Davidson sportster with custom exhaust. This is what he was riding when he meet Jamie.

((Side note, Ragnar and his Vikings don’t end up leaving LA completely, as he gets involved with a good little Catholic boy, and tries to convince Ireena that he didn’t know Rollo and Floki were going to start an all out uprising with them and he, Lagretha and some younger ones would like to return to the Slayers, since no one else will have them)))

(((One other side note, RJ wears a small vial of blood around his neck hidden inside of a hollowed out bullet casing. He said it’s the leaders’ and his best friend’s blood, which he keeps close to his heart at all times. He notices that Rev wears one too and when he asks why, rev tells him it’s just a bullet from he and Jax were younger and struck up their blood brother pact. They had found the bullets along a back road and Rev emptied and cleaned them, filling them with sand and turning them into pendants that both the boys still wear. RJ makes a crack about Rev winding up like him after all when Rev tells him the relationship he and Jax have is thicker than blood. )))

[beliefbeautyizwithin]

Are you okay with the fact of people excusing Beths shooting of Rio ? What is going on here ? What am I missing? I was watching this show with my friend and we WERE ALL rooting for her until we saw that crap. Then my mind changed to I hope she gets caught , I hope she gets locked up. Then all these blogs with Beth Avitars OFCOURSE, claiming the idea that she HAD to do it ? While saying how can people blame Beth with out blaming Rio? She pulled the damn trigger. Ugh I hate that !

So firstly, I'm not the person who answers anon questions. I feel their are more "qualified " bloggers on here for that. Plus sis got thannngs to do, okurrrr ....With that said I so appreciate u trusting me with this question anon.

To simply put this : people live in their own heads when it comes to this show. You will find those who infactically see themselves in Beth, or in some of the other women on this show. They feel like they can relate to them on some levels. Then there are those who love Rio for his sexual presence , the way he plays Rio as MORE than just a "gang friend and ofcourse his chemistry with Beth( myself included)... I 👏🏽get it !

But what I dont like is the politics used on this platform. The categorization clause : The idea that you must be either for Beth, Rio, or Beth and the girls when it comes down to what happened in the S2 finale. It's like I must check what party line I'm on or who am I FOR or against. When for me its as simple as who's right and who's wrong in the situation. There can be grey lines but in this particular situation, Beth was DEAD AZZ WRONG.

Let me explain: I watched this show like EVERYONE else , got my friends in on the show too. LOVED the dynamic of the women, their interaction with each other and I genuinely liked Beth's character. You could tell she was the leader of the group. To me shes that type of friend that always has a solution to your problems........ I was rooting for Her ( check the history of my posts). I Was happy seeing the girls work with Rio getting their own. PLUS Beth's relationship with Rio.

Now to Rio and Beth's relationship :

I never looked at their relationship as toxic per se given the context of the show and what these women were involved in. The women are wannabe criminals who willingly get involved with a gang member. Beth most of all( bc as I said shes the leader of her pack). RIO although he is assumed to be this dangerous criminal hes really soft on Beth. Speak to any GUY about this show and I promise you the first thing their gonna say is Rio should have killed Beth and the girls ( given their involvement in his business). They were liabilities..But some where through these episodes Rio fell in love : Yup I said it !!!!🥴

I believe when a man truly loves a woman he shows them through action. The things Rio did for Beth ( bc he mainly delt with Beth) you dont do that for someone you dont love. Im talking about despite these women helping him wash his cash. Theres a point in Season 1 where he TELLS Beth shes nothing but a charity case to him. Meaning he never needed them, he never needed HER.

Things Rio did out of his gang character :

1. BETH refusing to take care of her rotten egg; total liability to Rios business.

2. Beth snitching on Rio to the FEDS. Instead of Rio just shooting Dean , he had EVERY right to shoot / kill Beth too. But he never wants to hurt Beth so he settles with shooting her husband:" Now were good".

3. Finding out Boomer who was talking to the feds about Rio and his gang had something to do with Beth and the girls. He should of kill Beth and the girls. But instead he gave THEM the opportunity to take care of it.

4. Beth and the girls failing to take care of Boomer , which snowballed into an even bigger problem.

5. Rios money becoming compromise bc of Beth and the girls failing to listen or do anything right.

6. Beth going into the drug house for a DAMN dubby and Rio seeing how much it meant to her then going back to collect it.

7. GAVE Beth the keys to the kingdom. Now let me explain this..... people think he took it back. But after the bathroom break I believe in Rios head the sex solidified Beth( A woman he could see does not believe in one night stands and has only been with her husband sexually) was finally his ; "were partners now". Hence why he went ballistic in Boland Motors after he saw Beth going to Dean....Not to mention Beth realized the money and EVERYTHING was always in her possession. That was his woman yall. But ofcourse as women we always get hung up with the man actually SAYING it. Defining the relationship was unnecessary, given his actions.

8. The pill business. He gave Beth 50% (something he does with NOBODY else ; remember him saying he usually pays 30%) . Rio could have said no and killed her ( sorry guys but in EVERY scenario it was in Rios BEST interest to kill Beth).

8. Beth has passionate love making with Rio then kicks him out. TO go back to DEAN ,,okurr . So what does Rio do : send her pieces of the body hes been HOLDING for HER the entire time. Bc ofcourse it cant be that easy to first of all get out of a life of crime period. BUT he wasn't going to let go of Beth that easily. Beth gets the body back to do something as silly as burying the body in HER BACKYARD..How dumb!!

Rio has done nothing deliberately to compromise Beth's freedom . BUT he has forced Beth to be accountable of her actions.

So with all this information : Beth tries to send Rio away forever ! Knowing his fear of getting locked up that he disclosed to her during the shut down episode. Knowing he has a kid to take care of; as you can see now RHEA doesnt make enough cash to support Marcus, at least not like Rio can. Then tries to KILL the man ! In closing I dont CARE what floppy azz explanation people want to give about Beth shooting Rio. Her azz was W.R.O.N.G. she was messed up for that. That move changed my mind completely towards her . At this point she DESERVES Dean ugly lying azz. I hope they DO get caught and go to jail so she sees how it feels. l respected Beth but I lost respect after he snazzy azz smile when she said "Rio is gone"

Therefore anyone rally for Beth just because shes a woman and you stan Christina Hendricks. Let's get back to the context of the show and ask yourself: WHAT the hell HAS ShE ever done FOR RIO ? That wasn't to save her own behind. I'm gonna keep it 100% anon I didnt know who the hell Manny was or Christina was until this show. So this is not from a STAN prespective. This is from a real azz honest perspective. Hopefully this makes u understand how I feel.

[dontmindthefangirling]

Newsflash {p.p.}

chapter 1

gif credits to owner

Summary: You’re an up and coming journalist starting out at the Daily Bugle when you get your first assignment. Uncover Spider-Man’s true identity.

Warnings: swearing

prologue | series masterlist

-

Gun shots rang in your ears as you hid behind a nearby bench, slowly peeking your head up to get a few photos of Spider-Man as he swung into action. 

A week ago you would have thought you had lost your mind as you willingly put yourself in harms way in order just to get some rare pictures of New York’s superhero. But your job depended on this, so that’s how you ended up crouched behind a bench in Queens, a block away from a store robbery, zooming in on Spider-Man in order to get some impressive shots. 

Your hope was that if you lingered around after the crime fighting ended, you could follow Spider-Man to wherever he went after a days work of putting away bad guys. And your hope continued that you’d get a few shots of him taking off his mask. 

Maybe he’d perch himself on top of a building and take off the mask to breathe, or maybe he swung into some alley, but either way, your goal was to follow him. 

The last three nights in a row, you hadn’t had such luck because you hadn’t factored in that Spider-Man can shoot webs and swing from building to building while it took you much longer to jog. 

You remained hopeful, and for now, Jameson was eating up the rare action shots you were getting of Spider-Man. But you knew his patience would run out soon if you didn’t provide an identity for him soon. 

The gun shots came to a halt and you lifted your head, your camera ready as you spotted Spider-Man saying something to the criminals that were now wrapped in webbing. He had his hands on his hips and he shook his head at the criminals, like he was lecturing them before he turned and shot a web towards the top of a nearby building. 

“Shit,” you hissed, getting up from your hiding spot and jogging towards the building. You realized, maybe the best way to follow Spider-Man wasn’t from the ground, but from up above. You could see him, still, standing on the roof of a nearby building, the American flag billowing in the wind behind him. He looked like he was on the phone. 

You lifted your camera, zooming in on him casually putting his leg up on the ledge of the roof, talking on the phone. It was so easy to forget that there was an actual human in that red and blue suit, and seeing him do things that normal humans do made for some great pictures. 

As soon as you pressed click, Spider-Man looked in your direction and your heart got caught in your throat when you could see that he was looking directly at you. You forgot that he had heightened senses or something. He could probably hear your heartbeat from where he was. 

You lowered your camera, feeling like a deer in the headlights when Spider-Man swung himself down and was now standing a few feet in front of you. Being this close to him, you realized he wasn’t that tall, but he still stood a few inches taller than you. 

“What are you doing?” he asked, cocking his head to the side. You looked around, wondering if he really was talking to you, but when you realized you were in a pretty empty part of Queens, especially due to the gunshots that had recently stopped, you knew he was talking to you. 

“Uh, taking...pictures?” you managed to say even though your mouth felt dry.

“Yeah I know,” Spider-Man said, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’ve been following me.”

“What?” you croaked, your voice going like three octaves higher than normal. “N-no I haven’t.”

“Yeah you have,” Spider-Man said. “You’ve been at every crime scene for the last three days with that camera.”

He pointed at the camera in your hands and you swallowed thickly. Never had you imagined he would have noticed you lurking in the corners of each of his fights, snapping picture after picture. 

“Who do you work for? New York Times? Daily Bugle? Washington Post?” he demanded, stepping closer to you. You were now sure he could hear the way your heart was hammering against your chest. 

“Uh, second one,” you choked out, looking up at his white eyes that seemed to narrow. 

“Daily Bugle?” he practically scoffed. 

“I’m sorry, it’s my job-”

“You could’ve gotten seriously hurt, you know,” he said shaking his head at you. “Putting yourself in the middle of danger. What if you got shot or something taking a picture? Is your life really worth your job?” 

You furrowed your eyebrows and put your free hand on your hip. 

“Look, photography is my passion and I just got this internship at the Daily Bugle, which I don’t have to remind you, is a huge platform, and I’m just trying to do my best,” you said back. 

Spider-Man stared at you, his white eyes calculating as he cocked his head to the side again. 

“What’s your name?” he finally said. You stared at him, blinking as you wondered if you heard him correctly. 

“What’s yours?” you asked back. 

Spider-Man chuckled. “Nice try.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “It’s (Y/N).”

Spider-Man stared at you for a few moments again before he let out a sigh. 

“Well (Y/N), it was lovely finally talking to my stalker.”

“I-I’m not-”

“But stop being stupid. No job is worth your life and some of the guys I fight are seriously dangerous. I don’t need you getting in the middle of their crossfire. I know I’m ridiculously photogenic, but stop following me to crime scenes, okay?” he said sternly. 

You frowned, staring up at him. “What if I don’t?”

Spider-Man laughed bitterly. “You seem like a nice girl and I don’t want to, but I could easily break that camera of yours. Any pictures you have would be poof! Gone.”

You clutched your camera to your chest. This camera was your pride and joy and you would not let Spider-Man break it. 

“Are we clear?” Spider-Man asked, looking at how you held your camera. 

“Crystal,” you sneered. 

“Good,” Spider-Man retorted. He took a few steps away from you before shooting some webs at a nearby building and swinging away, disappearing in the Queens skyline. 

You let out a groan, and began making your way to the nearest subway to head home. 

How were you supposed to find out Spider-Man’s identity now that he was onto you?

-

“You look pissed,” your roommate, Jane, pointed out as soon as you entered your shared apartment a few blocks away from NYU’s campus. 

“I am,” you groaned as you put your camera down on the kitchen counter and went to grab a glass of water. 

“No secret identity revealed yet?” Jane asked, her legs up on the coffee table while she stared at the TV, another episode of The Office playing. 

“He fucking caught me,” you groaned, plopping down next to her on the couch. Jane turned away from the TV and looked at you, raising an eyebrow. 

“Spider-Man caught you?”

“He knew I was following him for the last three days and he threatened to break my camera if I kept dong it,” you said, leaning your head back against the couch. 

Jane whistled. “Shit dude. That’s bad.”

“Yeah, it’s bad,” you agreed. “What am I going to do? Jameson is expecting some identity reveal soon and I can only hold him off for so long. But now I can’t even get those rare pictures of Spider-Man because he will break my camera.”

Jane sighed. “Have you tried asking Spider-Man nicely?”

You glared at her. “Not funny.”

“(Y/N), Jameson set you up with an impossible task. Spider-Man is never going to just reveal himself, especially not to a girl with a camera. He’s a superhero, and they’re usually pretty careful about who knows their identity,” Jane said, giving you a sympathetic smile. 

You knew she was right. 

When Jameson gave you this assignment, you had been hopeful because there are so many Spider-Man fan accounts around New York that post sightings of him around the city and maybe someone would have some insight into who he really is, but that was a dead end you found. 

So you went to following him yourself. But now he knows and there’s no way he’d let you walk into another crime scene again. 

“I’m going to bed,” you sighed, standing from the couch. 

“Are you sure? I can make popcorn and we can have an Office marathon,” Jane suggested. 

You smiled at her and shook your head. “I’d love that any other night, but I have class in the morning.”

“Ah, right,” Jane said, waving you off. “Sleep well!”

“Thanks!” you called back, walking towards your bedroom. You plopped onto your bed, and stared at the ceiling for a few minutes, wondering how you were going to keep this job. 

-

You hoisted your backpack over your shoulder as you entered the Columbia classroom. Luckily for you, NYU and Columbia had some joint classes that you could sign up for, which is why you were taking this photography course through Columbia. 

You were a little intimidated at first, taking a class at an Ivy League school, but as soon as you talked to the professor about some photography tips, you became more settled. The professor was very down to earth and he was an expert in the field. 

You were early, as you usually were since you left yourself more time to get to Columbia’s campus, so you settled in your usual seat, taking out a notebook and scrolling through some social media on your phone. The classroom slowly began to fill as it got closer to the time for class to start. 

MJ, a girl who you started becoming friends with as you usually sat next to each other during class, slid into the seat next to you. 

“Hey,” she greeted. “I got you a coffee.”

“Awe, MJ,” you gushed. “Thank you.”

“So how’s operation spider going?” MJ asked, raising her eyebrows as she sipped from her own drink. You looked around nervously, now worried that Spider-Man could be anywhere, but no one was paying attention to your conversation. 

“It’s hit a brick wall,” you sighed, sipping the coffee. 

“That sucks, dude,” MJ said. You nodded. 

“Big time.”

A few minutes later, the professor walked in and began talking to the class. He started talking about a new project that he’d be pairing you up with partners for. You internally groaned. You were a solo artist, and you felt that your vision was very specific. 

But maybe collaborating with someone would open your eyes more. 

Your professor began reading off names and you listened for yours. 

“Michelle Jones and Margaret Elliot.” 

You sighed, disappointed you weren’t with MJ. 

“(Y/N) (L/N) and Peter Parker.”

You looked around the room. You didn’t know who Peter Parker was, and you didn’t see anyone looking in your direction, so you waited until the professor was done assigning partners. 

“I went to high school with Peter,” MJ whispered to you. You looked at her. 

“You did?”

“Yeah. He’s nice.”

The professor finished assigning partners when everyone stood and began sitting with their partners. You looked around when someone tapped you on the shoulder. You turned around and saw his familiar face. 

“Dumpster boy?” you said, raising an eyebrow. 

“Uh, what?” he stammered. You blushed, realizing he had no idea what you were talking about and shook your head.

“Never mind. I’m (Y/N),” you said.

“Yeah I know,” he grumbled walking over to a pair of open seats. “I’m Peter.”

You were taken aback by his tone and frowned as you sat in the open seat next to him. MJ said he was nice? 

“So you know MJ?” you asked, trying to make conversation. Peter seemed to be having none of it. 

“Yeah. Went to high school together,” he said, pulling out his laptop to look at the guidelines for the project. You stared at him for a few seconds before pulling out your own laptop and reading the guidelines. 

You and Peter worked in silence for the rest of the class period, researching some ideas for your project. The entire time, you could feel his eyes on you for a few times before he’d go back to his leg of the project. You could hear other groups chatting about ideas, but not you and Peter. 

You internally groaned. This was going to be a long project. 

When class let out, you stood from your seat, putting your things away when Peter finally said something to you.

“Nice camera,” he said, gesturing to your camera that poked out of your bag. You were taken aback by his words and looked at your camera and back at him before nodding. 

“Thanks.”

Without saying anything else, Peter began to walk away, with his bag over his shoulder. You finished putting your things away when you realized you and Peter were going to have to work on the project outside of class and you didn’t have his number. You scrambled out of your chair and chased after Peter, following him out onto the street. 

“Hey!” you called, skipping down the stairs. Peter froze and turned when you approached him, his eyebrows furrowed.

“We should, uh, exchange numbers,” you pointed out. “To work on the project.”

Peter stared at you for a few moments as if he were deciding whether or not to give it to you before he finally pulled his phone from his pocket. You wordlessly exchanged numbers.

“Thanks,” you said softly. Peter didn’t say anything to you as he walked away. You stared at his back as he got further away and scoffed. 

What a jerk.

-

As soon as Peter was far enough away from you, he let out the breath he had been holding the entire class period and sat on a nearby set of stairs to steady his heart. 

Of all people, he got paired with you. 

He tried his best not to talk because if you caught onto his voice and put it together to last night then he knew you’d go running to the Daily Bugle and his lovely friend J. Jonah Jameson would reveal his identity to the entire city. 

Peter knew one thing. As long as you worked for that slandering news station, he couldn’t trust you. 

He had to stay away. 

-

chapter 2 coming soon!

taglist: @thatcrazyfangirl814 // @spacyparker // @imagine-lovebug //