#the day after my birthday I’m going to witness a murder aren’t i?

[paradoxunknown]

YUTA PLEASE

[heavyhitterheaux]

Lose You to Love Me

First Lady of Private Garden Fic

AN: Get ready for a wild ride between our favorite couple

Synopsis: There is still tension in the air between the two of you regarding the last incident with Anitta and how everything unfolded. The wedge between the two of you becomes even greater when Jack reveals a secret that he had been keeping from you.

Pairing: Husband!Jack Harlow x Wife!Reader

First Lady of Private Garden Masterlist

Before reading this, read Let Them Know What’s Mine, She Gets the Last Word parts 1,2, and 3, Off Limits, Please Kiss and Make Up, and Trouble in Paradise

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

It had been a few days since your birthday and the two of you were busy once again. Jack was doing Jingle Ball while you were making multiple appearances. Even though the two of you had somewhat made up after the last Anitta incident, there was still some tension and you could feel it. Anitta never fully came out and said that she wanted to press charges and you were wondering what made her change her mind. But, you wanted to put your focus on other things and focus on being a better wife, a better friend, and a better person overall.

Jack was currently in L.A. in the studio to take his mind off things, when Neelam had told everyone to take a fifteen minute break and pulled him to the side.

“What’s going on with you? You’re here but you aren’t here.” She asked concerned as she pulled up a chair next to him.

“I… I don’t want to put this on you.”

“But you need to tell someone because this is affecting you. I’ve known you for how long now? Do I need to call Y/N?”

“NO!”

“What the….?” Neelam was confused as to why Jack reacted like that because any time your name was mentioned, it was the exact opposite.

“It has to do with her and I need to tell somebody this before I fucking explode.”

“I’m listening.”

“I know people look at me sideways with the whole Anitta thing because of how I was so quick to shut down Giveon, but not her.”

“For the life of me, I can’t understand why. It’s a double standard, Jack. Even though it’s speculation, I know you beat Giveon’s ass and PG were the witnesses but of course you won’t admit it so I’ll just let it slide. And you really hurt her feelings when it seemed like you didn’t have her back when all of that happened. I’m not talking about the last time, I’m talking about every time. From the outside looking in, it almost looks like you like Anitta and want to be in a relationship with her. That fucking instagram live took the damn cake.”

“NEVER IN A MILLION YEARS WOULD I WANT TO BE WITH HER! She has it in her mind that I want her when I damn sure DO NOT. So, about that. After the first incident on the set of first class and everything, Y/N decided to send Anitta a portion of our sex tape, I guess to show her I’m off limits. Since then, she’s been threatening to release it and has been hanging this over my head and I know if I say anything to her, she’ll have no hesitation to do so. That is the last thing that either of us need right now.” 

Neelam opened and closed her mouth several times before saying anything back to Jack who had now become nervous.

“Jack….. You…..  you have got to tell Y/N. That is serious and it’s blackmail which is ILLEGAL! Even if she sent it to her or not!”

“I know! I just…. I haven’t found the right time to tell her.”

“Haven’t found the right time?!?! Jack! You could have told her this when it first happened because we probably wouldn’t be in the situation we’re in now! She is going to want to MURDER you.”

“I know! And I just feel that even though we kind of made up, there’s still tension. I can’t even imagine what she’s going to say when I tell her.”

“Okay word of advice. I’m not married, however, I’ve been in relationships before and it might sound cliche, but Jack come on. You know honesty is the best policy. And she has told you time and time again that whatever comes your way that you’ll handle it TOGETHER. Y/N loves you and you love her but I’m not going to lie. Sometimes I think the fame is starting to get to your head and you’re forgetting who was by your side in the damn trenches with you that helped you get to where you are now. Like even to this day, she has her own career, but she STILL puts you first. I know that’s how her heart is, but still. I get it you don’t want it released to ruin your reputation and not to mention that would be a PR nightmare but you need to tell your wife the next time you see her. Tell her in person and not over the phone.”

“Now, you made me feel even more shitty.”

“I’m not trying to do that by any means and it’s coming from my heart because I care about the both of you. I admit that sometimes I’m worried about her because I saw her true colors with how she came at me when you were first signed. I admit that was my fault, but it’s over and done with. She doesn’t think first and just uses her fists to solve the problem. It seems like her actions are rooted in something deeper than what we think. She is too old to still be doing that. This isn’t high school and I’ll continue being honest, when Drama first signed her and I heard about it, we weren’t all that close. I actually went to him and said that her anger issues might end up being a problem and causing us bad publicity, but he wasn’t taking no for an answer because you insisted on her being signed. It has now caused us bad publicity and I just want her to get the help she needs. I sent her a few therapist recommendations that I got from other people, but she hasn’t said anything about it.”

“I just want to fast forward to 2023, but at least we have the wedding to look forward to. Right before Christmas.”

“Jack, you need to tell her this before you two walk down the aisle for the second time. Do not bring this into 2023.”

“I promise, I will.”

Just then Jack got a text from you saying how you were in L.A. and that you brought a surprise with you.

Wifey- smushhhhhh, I’m in L.A. and I cannot wait to see you! And I brought a surprise!

Smush- I owe you a dinner date, and what’s the surprise?

You then attached a picture of you and Maggie and it looked as if you had taken it when you had both landed.

“Fuck!”

“What’s wrong?!” Neelam asked while turning to him.

“She’s in L.A. and she brought my mom with her.”

“You need to tell her sooner rather than later.”

“This is about to be a fucking mess.”

—- 

Jack had taken you to dinner as promised, while Maggie said she was going to do some Christmas shopping for gifts for the two of you. You couldn’t help but to notice that Jack had been off the entire night once you both got back to your condo.

“Jackman.”

At that moment, his eyes went wide because any time he heard you say his name with such a serious tone he knew that it was important.

“Yes, mamas?”

“Come here.”

Jack made his way over to you as you were sitting on the couch and you opened your arms signaling that you wanted for him to lay on you.

After the two of you got comfortable, you started playing in his curls before saying anything else.

His entire body was tense and you were going to get whatever it is out of him sooner rather than later.

“What’s going on with you, baby? Something is off and I know my husband like the back of my hand.”

All Jack did was sigh and he hugged you closer to his body before answering you.

“I have to tell you something and I should have told you when it first happened and I don’t know how you’re going to take it.”

“Whatever it is, we’ll get through it together like we always do. This is forever, you know that.”

“It has to do with Anitta.” Jack now felt your body tense up before you answered him.

“Go on.”

“There’s a reason as to why I don’t really say anything towards her after all that’s gone down and I want to tell you the reason why.”

“I would definitely like to know because in my eyes you are a huge hypocrite. Does Giveon ring a bell at all?”

“Baby girl, just let me explain and please don’t interrupt me.”

“Go ahead.”

“She’s threatened to release our sex tape on multiple occasions. The one you sent her after you kicked her off the set of first class. I’m trying to do everything I can not to piss her off so that she doesn’t release it.”

Jack could feel that your heart rate had now sped up and you were quiet.

“Baby, with all the shit that’s happened this year with her, that is the last thing we need.”

You still hadn’t said anything and Jack then looked up at you from his place on your chest.

“Y/N, please. I know you’re mad at me and I should have told you. I know I shouldn’t have kept this from you.”

“You kept this from me since May. It is now December.”

“Babe….”

“All that time I spent fucking crying after I actually did fight her because I essentially broke a promise to you and you were mad as hell at me. Acting outta fucking pocket on social media when in fact you were holding onto this?”

“I know, not my best moment.”

“That’s putting it lightly.”

You were now fuming and made a motion to stand up with Jack moving to the side.

“We can fix this, mamas.”

“You should have fixed it in May when it first happened!”

Just then the door opened and in walked Maggie and Urban who were both looking confused as you were shooting daggers at your husband.

“We’re not getting married again.” You muttered while crossing your arms and looking down at the floor.

"What did you just say to me!?"

"That come December 21st, we're not getting married again. You fucking heard me."

Jack was quiet for a few minutes before looking back over at you.

"We need to first fix our marriage before we even think about doing any of that. You kept this from me!"

"Do you even want to be married to me anymore?"

You looked up at your husband in utter disbelief not believing that he would have the audacity to ask you that.

“Jack, if I didn’t want to be married to you, I would have been gone a long time ago.”

“OKAY! What is the problem between you two!?” Maggie asked, looking confused as Urban made a beeline for his bedroom to put the gifts he bought away. Urban never got in the middle of the two of you when you argued and this time was no different. He already knew that you would come find him to talk about it after anyway. 

“Ask your son.” You said responding to Maggie.

Maggie then turned to her oldest son with her arms crossed waiting for an explanation.

“Anitta has a sex tape of us and is threatening to release it and that’s why I haven’t really said anything to her publicly. In the hopes of her not doing it.”

“Jackman, you are aware that what you just told me is ILLEGAL!” Maggie said, looking at him in disbelief.

“I know! But..!”

“And this has been going on since May and it is now DECEMBER!” You added while shaking your head in disbelief.

“I know I was wrong and I don’t have a good answer on why I kept this from you but you know that I will do anything and everything that I need to do on this earth to protect you!”

“Protect me or protect yourself?” You asked him while looking up at him and he looked at you in disbelief.

“Don’t start that shit, Y/N. You have been my entire world since I was 14 years old and that is NEVER going to change.”

“You know what, I noticed? That I go so hard for you and the rest of PG and I am constantly putting myself second. I can’t even tell you how many nights I have lost sleep to make sure that people all around the fucking world knew your name! And I still do that! And for what? For you to keep something as big as this from your wife?! I would do anything for you and you KNOW that.”

“Baby! I am thankful for everything that you have done for me and I apologize if I made you feel like I wasn’t appreciative of you. I….just I told Neelam earlier because she saw there was something bothering me and she said I needed to tell you as soon as possible and I was tired of staying quiet on this.”

“YOU TOLD NEELAM BEFORE ME?! YOU TOLD HER BEFORE YOUR WIFE?!”

“Babe, she’s my friend too and not just my manager!”

“Yeah, your friend who at one time had it out for your wife and was coming sideways at me and almost got her fucking ass beat.”

“I needed someone else’s perspective! And you two are close now!”

“I’m not doing this anymore.”

“Wait, doing what?! Babe, don’t walk away from me. We can get through this.” Jack said while trying to take your hand but Maggie shook his head at him telling him to let you go.

“Jack, I love you. You know I do, but I cannot be around you right now. I just can’t. The wedding is off.”

Maggie immediately followed you and was attempting to calm you down. The tears were cascading down your face at 100 miles per hour. While Jack simply sat back down on the couch with his head in his hands.

For the first time in ten years, he actually broke your trust in him.

“You need to breathe, Y/N. Come on and sit.”

You did as you were told and started to take some deep breaths before turning to your mother-in-law.

“How could he keep that from me?”

“I don’t have an answer for that, at all. I’m not defending him in any way, but I know that to him it probably felt like the best decision at the time.”

“He also said that we have cracks in our relationship that need to be fixed before we have children.”

Maggie simply nodded her head prompting for you to continue.

“Like he said I hide things from him and I don’t!”

“Hold on baby, let me stop you right there. You do hide things.”

“What have I hid from him?!”

“The fact that you could rap, your role in P Valley, the feature with Giveon and not telling him when you were first asked, and not to mention the 12 pets...”

“I didn’t think...”

“You might not have noticed at the time but it was a big deal that had a big impact. And not to mention that you have GOT to stop fighting.”

“I’m not even that bad!”

“Y/N Y/M/N Harlow you are a whole adult who is almost 25 and you have been fighting since you were in elementary school. I know this because your mom told me. That gets old really quick and there are plenty of other things you can do except fight.”

“She came for my man, mom! She deserved to get her ass beat and the way she was being disrespectful towards me, it was unnecessary.”

“It might have been unnecessary, but you’re going to basically fight millions of girls? When he only has eyes for you?”

“Well no...”

“Okay, then. See, Y/N you don’t think you ever do anything wrong.”

“Jack said the same thing… and Urban.”

“It’s tough love, but I have got to call you out on this because I love you and only want the best for you and Jack. So, I know I usually side with you but this time you’re both in the wrong..”

Your eyes were beginning to water, not truly realizing how much you had missed right in front of your face.

“Hey, come here. Don’t cry. Just try to be a better woman than you were yesterday. I know that you can do it and be the wife my son deserves and the mother my grandchildren deserve, okay?” Maggie said while pulling you into a hug.

“Jack has got to stop spoiling you so much and learn to tell you no from time to time too. Literally no one tells you no and you’re spoiled.”

“Damn, you’re just laying it all out huh?”

“Because you’re my daughter and I want to be honest. Take a few minutes for yourself and I’m going to go talk to that son of mine.”

You nodded your head as she left the room and you immediately grabbed your phone to text Brandi.

You- I’m leaving out of L.A. tonight to head to Miami for the show

Brandi- So soon? You literally just got there a few hours ago. Is everything okay?

You- Yeah, why wouldn’t they be?

Brandi- Because you went to see your husband and knowing you two I thought you would be breaking headboards

You- We’re both busy and I just wanted to check in on him. We’re good.

Brandi- Flight will be ready tonight

You- Brandi, can I leave sooner?

Brandi- Y/N, you have me worried

You- It’s just a lot that I need to get done before Christmas and I want to get a head start on it

Brandi- Be at the airport in an hour

You- Thank you

Maggie went back out to the living room to see her son with his head in his hands and she simply went and sat next to him.

“I want you to listen and to not interrupt me, okay?”

All Jack did was nod.

“The two of you have created such a big mess that it isn’t even funny. Between the two of you keeping things from each other, the whole Anitta thing, Giveon, and it’s like you two forgot that you’re married but the world is watching the two of you. The way you’ve been acting towards her is unacceptable and I raised you better than that. How do you even expect this marriage to last if you aren’t putting in the work for it? Because at this rate because of what you just told her, I don’t see it lasting another year.”

“She called off the wedding…. This was supposed to be the year we were celebrating five years of being married and hopefully adding a child and I’m convinced she doesn’t want anything to do with me. I cannot lose her, I just can’t.”

“She would have left a long time ago if that was the case. I know that you two love each other, anyone can see that, but protect your marriage at all costs. And she was right to call it off. The two of you are renewing your vows in two weeks and this is the bombshell you dropped on her?”

“I didn’t want to go into 2023 with this hanging over my head.”

“I know she appreciates your honesty even though it was months too late, but give her time and also in that time the two of you need to see a marriage counselor. I know it’s hard to hear, but it’s tough love.”

Just then the bedroom door opened and you emerged with all of the suitcases that you had brought with you less than four hours ago when you landed. This caught Jack’s attention.

“Where… where are you going? You just got here.”

“Jack, I love you and as hard as this is for me to say because I never thought that I would have to say this in a million years, but, I need time away from you. I can’t put into words how much it hurts that you kept that from me. I know that I’ve hurt you too and I’m definitely not innocent at all but… I need to put myself first for once. I’ll see you at Christmas, I guess.”

“Y/N…. wait….”

“No, because you need to let me do this. I have always put you first and it’s my turn. Maybe time away from each other will do us some good so that we can begin to fix whatever this mess this is that we call a marriage. I just need time, okay?” You said as you were trying to keep your tears from falling and that’s when you felt Urban come up behind you. He had been listening the entire time and just knew that once you left, Jack would be a mess and be hard to console.

You saw where Jack’s eyes began to water and because he didn’t trust his voice enough to speak without cracking, he simply nodded his head before you came up and hugged him.

He was holding onto you for dear life and you were doing the same.

“I’ll love you until the end of time and even after that.”

“I know, right back at you.” You said as Jack leaned down to kiss you.

Liked by allthingsy/n, jackharlowsource, jackandy/naremyparents, saweetie, druski2funny, cozane, mortirolo, and 3,436,298 others

theshaderoom: We have breaking news about our favorite couple jackharlow and y/ninsta. Remember how we were all excited for their destination wedding this December? Well apparently sources close to the couple have said that the wedding is now OFF. You heard it here first, the wedding is OFF. We just hope they can work through it and that they repair their relationship

saweetie: WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK? jackharlow y/ninsta GET YOUR ASSES IN HERE NOW OR ANSWER THE FUCKING PHONE

theestallion: I SWEAR THAT THIS BETTER BE ANOTHER PRANK

lilnasx: WHAT IS HAPPENING?

normani: I don’t like this game anymore

sza: but....????

allthingsy/n: stop playin. this is a joke. it has to be. Jack and Y/N are forever

jackharlowsource: I’m holding out hope at least it didn’t say that they were getting divorced

jackandy/naremyparents: WHAAAAAAAATTTTTTT

Liked by danivalentine, mortirolo, jackharlow, champagnepapi, cozane, urbanwyatt, 2forwoyne, and 3,208,976 others

y/ninsta: my sister danivalentine always has my back. thank you for loving me the way you do.

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Liked by jackharlow, danivalentine, urbanwyatt, claybornharlow, saweetie, mortirolo, softtcurse, yungskylark, and 2,860,945 others

y/ninsta: one of the greatest feelings in the world is being on stage performing for my beautiful fans. I love yall so much 😘💖

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“Y/N, that is the third time you’ve thrown up today. Do you feel okay?”

“It’s probably just a stomach bug or something. It’s probably nothing.”

All your sister was doing was eyeing you as you continued to pack in order to get ready to go to the next city which would be one of your favorites, New Orleans.

“Y/N…”

“Dani, what? I have to hurry up and pack.”

She didn’t do anything except hand you a walgreens bag which you were confused about.

“Danielle… what is going on?”

“You’re pregnant. Take the test.”

You shook your head in disbelief at your older sister and rolled your eyes.

“No, I’m not.” You said while throwing the bag to the side and she lightly grabbed your wrist.

“Look, I know that things are very touch and go with you and Jack right now, but I honestly think you might be. It wouldn’t hurt to take it.”

“If I take it, will you leave me alone?”

“Maybe, maybe not.”

You once again rolled your eyes at her and proceeded to go into the bathroom and take the bag with you.

Once you had finished taking the test, you set a timer on your phone to go back to look at it and continued to pack all of your things.

“Have the two of you even talked?”

“Sort of.”

“No, Y/N, you two need to sit down and talk about this.”

“Dani, I can’t right now. I need to take some time for myself before I do that.”

“You don’t get days off when you’re married.”

“I know and I know that we have a lot to work on.”

“Then why are you not with your husband doing that?”

You didn’t have an answer for her as your alarm on your phone went off signaling that it was time to look at the tests you took.

You peered down at the bathroom counter to see all three tests staring back up at you and it was the last thing that you were expecting.

“Y/N?” Dani called for you and when she didn’t hear you, she made her way over to the bathroom. She peeked over your shoulder to see why you had gone quiet.

Positive.

All three.

You immediately bursted into tears.

This was supposed to have been a happy moment, but there were a million things running through your head at one time.

“It’s going to be okay, lil bit.” Your sister said while bringing you into a hug.

“How? Me and Jack are barely even speaking. And now I’m pregnant?!”

“One thing at a time, okay. But we need to get you in to see a doctor so we can see how far along you are. We have time to do that before we leave for NOLA, okay?”

You simply nodded your head and your sister continued to wipe away your tears.

You just couldn’t seem to catch a break.

Brandi was a miracle worker and was able to get you in to see an OB/GYN two hours before your flight was supposed to leave. It was cutting it close, but it was better than waiting until you got there to find out what was going on. 

“Hi Mrs. Harlow! I’m going to be doing your ultrasound today so we can see what’s going on in there.”

You nodded your head as you pulled up your sweatshirt so that she could place the gel on your stomach.

“Okay…. And…. here we go! Let me just get a good picture and I can print some out for you and…. Oh…”

“Oh? What do you mean oh?” You asked suddenly in a panic. 

“It’s um… wow. There’s more than one baby in here.”

“EXCUSE ME? WHAT?”

“Relax, Y/N.” Dani said while eyeing you and trying to stay calm in the hopes that you would too. 

“I am terrified to ask this question, but how many are in there?”

“Three. You’re pregnant with triplets! Congratulations!”

All of the color then drained from your face.

You- Jack, I’m scared shitless. I didn’t want to do this over text but I needed to tell you this as soon as possible. I’m pregnant. WITH TRIPLETS. 

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[forestlingincorporated]

I wanna talk about Janet Drake

I’m not against exaggeratedly evil versions of Tim’s parents, tbh. It’s fanfiction, if we can depict an Exaggeratedly Good version of Bruce (which we can, and I do, and I love) then we can depict the Drakes as Exaggeratedly Bad. As someone who personally identifies with Tim, and his brand of complicated parental abuse in particular, I find it cathartic to uncomplicate that abuse and rescue him from the Obviously Evil Bad People. 

That said, since much of comics lore is passed down word of mouth, the oral tradition surrounding Tim has developed this idea of Janet as The Worse Parent between her and Jack that was never really present in the comics. We see much LESS of Janet, and we have 20 years worth of comics depicting Jack as a neglectful hotheaded idiot who ultimate does love his son. More importantly, Jack isn’t very much LIKE Tim, so there is a habit to attribute Tim’s traits to his mother... and, as someone who really really identifies with Tim, Tim has... some negative traits. Tim can be a bitch sometimes. He’s fiercely intelligent and sweet and kind, with a strong sense of justice, but he can be cold and judgmental and unthinking - he fights those traits, but he does have them. 

And it is perfectly fine to depict Janet that way. I’ve enjoyed depictions of Cold Calculating Janet Drake, but it’s not the ONLY option, and I want to challenge fans to consider different avenues. Tim could pick up these traits from anywhere: a nanny, Mrs. Mc Ilvaine (”Mrs. Mac”), a teacher, tv, Sherlock Holmes novels, Bruce Wayne himself. Tim is capable of not being like EITHER parent. 

So, what do we KNOW about Janet? (I’ll also touch on Jack, but only in scenes he appears with Janet.) 

When Janet was first introduced she was depicted as a gentle but “modern” woman. This was written in 1989, told by a 13 year old Tim, so this theoretically was meant to take place in 1979. I’m not here to give a lecture on the history of sex discrimination in the united states, but much of the legislation protecting women in the workforce or surrounding women’s bodily autonomy would have been very very new in this initial depiction. 

Here, Janet is shown to be encouraging, emotional, maternal, and projects her own feelings onto Tim. Jack is shown to be slightly sexist, possibly discouraging, but not overbearing. And the artist is shown not to know how to draw children. 

To insert some speculation, I think it’s important to note all the Drakes witnessed a terrible murder/accident that day. I point this out, because this is the last time Jack and Janet are depicted this way. It’s possible they changed as a result of this event specifically. 

However, this is also a story being told by Tim. It’s also possible these events aren’t really “real” at all, and Tim is misremembering what his parents were like as a three-year-old, possibly projecting a more palatable version of his parents into the narrative. This is entirely up to personal interpretation. 

In fact, the Drakes are shown in Legend of the Dark Knight attending Haly’s Circus, and the artist knows what a toddler looks like and they’re depicted as already having a slightly strained relationship. Jack is clearly on the defensive, and Janet seems to be passive-aggressive, though she could just be attempting to explain the situation to her toddler honestly. The intended tone isn’t especially clear. 

I do want to point out, in this depiction, Tim isn’t being carried like he was in the previous one. He’s walking ahead of his parents, which isn’t a terrible horrible crime, but could be dangerous in a crowded place like the circus. Might be a subtle hint to his parents overall neglect. 

Back to A Lonely Place of Dying, in Tim’s memories of the night he discovered Robin and Dick Grayson were the same person at nine-years-old, his parents are home, and watching TV together while Tim played... trucks, idk, in the living room with them. (This is semi-interesting, because you could say “oh, Tim liked vehicle toys as a kid” or you could extrapolate that this is another subtle indication of Jack’s sexism, providing Tim with appropriately “boy toys.” Either interpretation is valid. If Tim was assigned female at birth, would they have been given “girl toys,” or allowed to play with whatever they wanted?) 

This is, to my knowledge, the only panel of the Drakes when Tim is between ages 3 and 13. They’re all together, which might indicate that the Drakes were home more often when Tim was 9, only later going on business trips when Tim was “old enough” but... 

This is Tim’s boarding school when he’s 13. While most boarding schools in the US are for grades 9-12, Tim is clearly not a freshman at age 13; look how much younger the other kids in this panel are. In the US, the youngest you can attend most boarding schools is 7. 

That means Tim could have begun going to boarding school anytime between 7 and 13. He most likely spent all of middle school in boarding school, at least. There are an almost infinite number of possible ways the Drakes handled having a business that required lots of international travel, an archeology hobby, AND a very young child. Janet staying home until Tim was 7, 11, 13, is equally possible as the Drakes having a nanny until 7, 11, 13. Tim just doesn’t talk about that period of his life very much.

(”What about Mrs. Mac?” - it is unclear when Mrs. Mac begins working for the Drakes. We only see her when Jack comes out of his coma. She could either be a long standing staff member, or a recent hire.) 

Note: I’ve seen it said that it’s canon that “According to Tim, when his parents were home, they made a point to try and include him in their activities, bringing him along to events that were normally adults only.” I have never seen this panel, or I don’t remember it, so I cannot confirm, but I also cannot debunk this because... comics. 

By the time Tim is 13, Jack and Janet are away on business trips a lot, with limited communication, and no firm return date. If I’m feeling generous, I’d say it was harder to communicate internationally in 1990 than it is today. If I’m not feeling generous, I’d say the Drakes are extremely wealthy, and international communication was easier than ever before in the 80s and 90s. They’re not even going home to see Tim in a week or two, they’re going home and calling Tim at boarding school in a week or two. 

Even Bruce thinks its weird, though he doesn’t say so to Tim’s face. It’s written almost as if Tim’s parents’ neglect was meant to be a plot point that just got forgotten about. 

Tim’s parents are fighting at this point (their poor assistant), but Janet still goes with Jack on these business trips. And she’s clearly involved in the business, somehow, but the comics never SAY what Janet’s JOB is. We’re told Jack is the exec, but Janet is ONLY ever referred to as Jack’s wife, though they’re later described as the “heads” of the company, plural. 

Just to be clear, this is Jack’s business. There’s a perception that Jack is a bad business man because he and Janet fight over company decisions, and Jack looses the business after Janet dies, but Jack looses the company YEARS after Janet dies, and maintains it for about a year after No Man’s Land at that. We’re not told how Jack looses the business, but he’s got to be doing something right. Janet isn’t necessarily the “real brains” of Drake Industries. 

And I’m not... gonna... touch the... exploitation and racism because... I’m not qualified to do that. But, here’s the panel. The Drakes sure seem exploitative and racist in their business decisions. Someone else can... analyze that with more nuance. 

Regardless how how long they’ve been fighting, when their lives are in danger, the Drakes fall back into a loving husband and wife. Their marriage may be falling apart, but they do care about each other. 

I want to show these panels because it shows that Tim and Jack do have things in common. They’re both level headed in a crisis and can be somewhat cold in their practicality. Janet meanwhile and silent. Jack is later willing rant and rave at their captors, but Janet remains silent. 

That is, until they’re alone, and she finally lets herself fall apart. 

God, Jack can be obnoxious. Janet just looks miserable and resigned. I actually think Tim takes after his parents in this respect in equal measure. Tim can have a temper, but he can also be fairly melancholy and defeatist. 

Jack keeps reminding Janet to be strong and in control, which could be period typical sexism? But Jack seems so practiced and ready with the words of encouragement, and with Tim’s history with depression, I wonder if Janet has an inclination towards it as well. 

As the end approaches, when Jack brings up Tim, Janet seems to have a lot of regret. She talks about “wasting” the good things, and I don’t think it’s too big of a stretch to assume she’s talking about time spent with her only child. 

From this point on, Janet is at times spoken of, but not seen. Like here, when Jack says Janet wouldn’t approve of him and Tim being so “far apart.” He says this after he tells him he takes back his threat to send him back to boarding school, which might imply Janet was against the idea of boarding school? Though she obviously lost that argument when she was alive. 

Jack will of course renege on this later, but that’s Jack Drake for you. 

Or here in Tim’s illness induced dream, where he gets everything he wants. Though, since this is a fantasy of Tim’s, where his father and girlfriend are both more accepting and understanding than they are in real life, I would take this depiction of Janet with a grain of salt. 

After loosing Drake Industries, Jack thinks about Janet (though, they call her Catherine/Cathy for some fucking reason) during his depressive episode. And... uh... 

Hallucinates a Valkyrie???? Is this symbolic of suicidal thoughts, or is she... real? Or is he seriously hallucinating? 

Anyway, we’re not here to discuss Jack’s mental state, the fact that he forgot Tim’s birthday, or that concerning “I was going to knock some sense into you but you’re still bigger than me” statement from Tim, we’re here to talk about Janet. And even though this entire arc is about Jack mourning his first wife, they don’t SAY anything about Janet herself at all. I mean, they don’t even get her name right, so I guess what was I expecting. 

Then there’s Origins and Omens, which also doesn’t say anything about Janet, except that Tim’s memory of her is faulty - Janet was poisoned, her assistant Jeremy’s throat was slit on television, but Tim seems to have conflated the death he did see with the death he didn’t. 

The only piece of canon to suggest that Janet might be cold, is Tim compares her to Thalia. And even then, he’s really just saying Janet was protective of him. It’s kind of a scary look to make at your kid, but Bruce does the same thing, so. 

I do want to say... it’s not 100% clear if Tim is even talking about Janet. He could be talking about Dana. Dana was observably protective of Tim, though I don’t think he’s ever called her mom. He PROBABLY means Janet. 

And finally we have Tim visiting his mother’s grave (in a duel Christian/Jewish cemetery, make of that what you will), where Tim says she was “a little religious.”

And that’s it! That is all we know about Janet Drake in New Earth. Hardly the Mom From Hell, but she isn’t perfect. I’d be interested in seeing some alternate depictions of her within the fandom. 

I’m still gonna eat up Terrible Parents From Hell like a starving puppy dog, though. Just some food for creative thought. 

[wefoundloveunderthelight]

Mystery Of Pixie Hollow by GleefullyCaptainSwan - Sneak Peek

Chapter 3/11

Read on AO3: | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Or on FF

Stacy's Tortured Crew: @teamhook @kmomof4 @stahlop @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @itsfabianadocarmo @mariakov81 @qualitycoffeethings @zaharadessert @jrob64 @jonesfandomfanatic @natascha-ronin @tiganasummertree @xarandomdreamx @therooksshiningknight @batana54 @superchocovian @onceratheart18 @ultraluckycatnd @snowbellewells @karlyfr13s @the-darkdragonfly @xsajx @deckerstarblanche @jonesfandomfanatic @winterbaby89

Chapter 3: Story Time

“I asked who you are, and you have yet to give me a name.” He growled again in her ear.

“My name’s Emma Swan. I just want to talk to you about your daughter.”

“What do you know about my daughter?”

“I know she went missing just like my son, Henry.” She felt his entire body flinch. “Please, right jacket pocket, there’s a picture of him. I just want to talk.”

She felt him dig into her jacket, pulling the photo free and stepping away from her. He stared at the picture, a frown slipping on his stubbled face. “How old is he?”

“He’s six. He went missing on his birthday a few days ago.”

He was waving the knife around, tucking it under his chin as he talked to himself. “It’s the appropriate age range…makes sense…hmm...few days ago…where were they…went North…” He stopped moving and stared at her. “Storybrooke, not again...”

“I’m sorry?”

“They were in Storybrooke last weekend, correct? The carnival.”

“That’s right, how did you know that?”

“I track their movements, keep an eye on where they go, look up any missing person reports after they leave.” He stepped into the boat, gesturing for her to join him. Emma stood nervously on the pier as he disappeared into the belly of the boat. She looked around at the empty pier. If she went missing now, no one would have any idea where she was.

Shit.

He poked his head up through the stairwell. “Are you coming or not, lass?”

She sighed, stepping onto the boat, and following him cautiously down the stairs. When she got to the bottom she gasped. In every direction she could see there were photos on the wall with string connecting them. It was like an art project had exploded in the small area, except it wasn’t art, it was some low-tech stalking shit if she ever saw it.

She knew she should turn around and get the hell of this man’s boat, but curiosity was eating at her. What did he know? Why was he so obsessed with the people on the walls?

“This is where I started doing my research, Alice, she went missing five years ago. We found Pixie Hollow just walking through the neighborhood and Alice loves fairytales, so she just had to go.” His voice trailed off sadly, as if he didn’t even remember she was in the room and then suddenly he spun around on his heels. “This one went missing shortly after, it’s harder for me to get information on anyone that disappeared before Alice, I tried, but my research skills aren’t that great. I hate computers, Alice always did everything…” He trailed off as he turned around again.

“You can see that they all fit the age range, around 5 to 8 years old usually.”

“You’ve been collecting all of this information for 5 years?” She finally spoke.

“I’ve had to be resourceful; the cops are useless.”

“Tell me about it.” She said with a snort.

He turned around and stared at her. “Where did he go missing at?”

“I told you, Storybrooke.”

“No, what attraction?”

“It was a mirror maze, you know, filled with mirrors, can’t find your way out.”

“Mirrors…that’s a new one. Alice, she went missing from the Jolly Roger Adventure ride, she got in the cart, she was only in for a few minutes, but when it came out the other side, she was no longer there. Vanished.”

“I don’t remember that ride being there.”

“I’m sure they change them out to avoid suspicion, just like the name. When we went, it was called Neverland Adventure Park. I believe they go by Pixie Hollow now.”

“How do you know it’s the same park?”

“You have to follow the money, love.” He said with a smirk. “And this one.” He turned toward the board on his wall. “She’s always with them.”

“Who’s that?” She stepped closer to the photo of a woman with short hair, wild eyes.

“That’s Tink. If the park opens near you, she’s sure to be found nearby.”

“Wait, like Tinkerbell?” She laughed.

“The one and only.”

“This is ridiculous. Next you’re going to tell me Peter Pan owns the place, and all his lost boys operate the rides.”

“Well done. You’re quite perceptive love, there doesn’t seem to be any reason to need to tell you.”

Her mouth dropped. “You’re insane.”

“Ouch, you wound a man, I can assure you I have my wits about me.”

She turned to leave. “I just want to find my kid, I’m not here to play pretend with a man who believes in fairytales.” He reached out and grabbed her by the wrist.

“I can assure you love; this is no fairytale; this is the stuff nightmares are made of. Pan is dangerous, and if he has your boy, you best start believing in him.”

She shook her head and pulled her hand away from him, turning to leave before something caught her eye near the stairs. She stepped closer to the photo. “I know this idiot.”

She felt him hover behind her, his breath at her neck. “That’s Felix. Real jackass that one.”

“He’s the assistant manager at Pixie Hollow.” The idiot who told her that Henry must have run away. He was there. No. Emma closed her eyes. This was insane. “I have to leave.”

“This isn’t some fantasy I’ve made up, Swan. It’s all real.” He called after her, letting her run up the stairs and away from the boat. “It’s all real.” She heard him shout as her feet hit the pier and she hurried back to her car, slamming the door shut behind her.

She tried to slow her breathing, the thought that perhaps what she had witnessed was just an elaborate nightmare and soon she would wake up in her bed and Henry would come bounding into her room and everything would be alright but as she drove home that night, thoughts of what she witnessed in that boat, she knew that no matter how crazy he seemed, the man was just desperate to find his kid.

Henry had only been missing for a few days, Killian’s daughter had been gone for 5 years. She wasn’t sure how crazy she would look if she hadn’t found Henry after that long of a time.

She stopped at a station when she was halfway to home, she filled up the bug and bought some snacks to eat on her way. She was starving and realized that she had skipped eating since she left her home that morning. As she stepped into the light, leaving the gas station behind her, she recognized a black car that she swore she saw parked outside Ashley’s house.

The sunlight gleamed across the front window for a moment and Emma walked casually to her car, she opened her door and sat in the front seat. Glancing over at the black car she saw movement in the front seat. She pulled out of the gas station, turning onto the road as she watched the black car behind her do the same.

Whoever this asshole was, they were definitely following her.

Emma drove a few miles until she spotted a convenience store on her left, turning quickly she dashed into the parking lot and parked her car. The black car squealed to turn into the lot, parking a distance away from her. Emma watched it in her rearview mirror and then swung her car open, grabbing the tire iron next to her on the seat.

She marched toward the car, gripping the tire iron in her hand. As soon as she got close to the vehicle, the door opened, and Officer Nolan stepped out of the car with his hands in front of him. “Hello Emma.”

“Are you fucking following me?” She yelled as she lowered the tire iron.

The passenger door opened, and Officer Locksley stepped out, his hand firmly on his hip where she knew his gun sat.

“We weren’t following you…” He said and Emma rolled her eyes.

“Are you kidding me? I spotted you miles ago, are you really going to try and convince me that we all just really had a hankering for some snacks miles away from town?”

“Well, we weren’t following you earlier, we just…” Officer Locksley started before his partner interrupted.

“We were following Killian, so imagine our surprise when you showed up.”

“Jones? Why are you following him? He’s just some nut on a boat.”

“You need to let us do our job, stay away from Killian Jones.”

“Why, what aren’t you telling me?”

“Look, I can’t get into specifics with you. I get it, you’re desperate.” Officer Nolan began and Emma found herself wanting to toss the tire iron at him. He flinched and held up his hand. “I’m sorry your kid hasn’t come home, but this isn’t the way to find him. Jones isn’t all there.” He said pointing to his head. “His daughter’s been gone for a long time now; we’ve been keeping tabs on him.”

“Why? I’m pretty sure you’re outside your jurisdiction.” She said with a laugh. “Why are you so obsessed with the guy.”

“Alice went missing in Storybrooke five years ago. He moved out here after a while, but we’ve always kept tabs on him. He was in and out of shelters with that little girl. Working as a fisherman with men he never should have trusted around his daughter. He’s dangerous, stay away from him.”

“Wow, judgmental much? So, if you’ve ever had the unfortunate experience of not being able to provide for yourself, of needing to ask for help somehow that makes you a bad person? Is that why you don’t believe someone took my son either? You looked me up and don’t like my backstory either?”

“Look Ma’am, we don’t want to see you get murdered too.” Officer Locksley added.

“Murdered?” She exclaimed

“Why do you always do that?” Officer Nolan yelled at his partner before turning back to her. “Look, just stay away from the man, let us do our job.”

Emma laughed and turned away from them. “Try doing your job first, maybe then you can give me advice.”

Emma took the backstreets home, satisfied when she didn’t see the black car following her anymore. How dare they judge someone because they had to live in a shelter. Emma had spent a few years in one herself before she was able to provide for her and Henry. Things weren’t always easy for them after Neal left them high and dry with no income and no clothes on their backs. Emma did what she had to do to survive. She hated to think that because of that, she was viewed as a bad mother.

She would do anything for Henry.

Emma tossed her keys on the table, shutting the door behind her and locking the latch. She went to the fridge and grabbed a beer, popping the top and dropping down on her couch. She reached over and pulled the laptop toward her, clicking the button as it blinked to life.

Pulling up Google, she typed, “Killian Jones Storybrooke.”

The search was quick and efficient, the first story came with an older photo of the man she met today. He was younger, probably in his early 20’s. The photo was of him being taken into custody, and another of his mug shot, steely blue eyes staring into the lens with a look of anger. The article was from 15 years ago.

“Killian Jones arrested for manslaughter.” The title caused her eyes to grow, she clicked the link, digging into the details. It appeared the man worked for a criminal mastermind, Mr. Gold, who operated outside the lines of Storybrooke. Killian appeared to be the muscle, hustling people for money that was owed to his boss. The story told of a love affair with the bosses’ wife, Milah. Apparently love was enough to set him straight and he turned on Gold.

From what she could gather from the court case notes, Killian had interrupted a fight between Mr. Gold and his wife, a fight so brutal that it left the woman paralyzed and unable to walk. The ensuing fight ended with Mr. Gold’s death and Killian’s incarceration for manslaughter, with time served and good behavior, Killian served five years.

Emma searched again, “Killian and Milah Jones.” A grainy photo of a wedding was all she could find, the man smiling as he stood behind the woman in the wheelchair. She bit her lip, clicking onto the next article. “Woman dies in car crash leaving behind husband and infant daughter.”

Emma made an audible noise as she clicked the article, reading the story about how a drunk driver had crashed into the couple who were returning home from a quiet dinner. Milah Jones died at the scene leaving Killian alone with his infant daughter, Alice.

Emma wiped the tears from her eyes, clicking on the search bar. “Killian Jones missing daughter”

The photo of the carnival caused her heart to stop. She recognized the lettering on the sign in the background. It said “Neverland”, but she remembered the way the letters of “Pixie Hollow” lit up the night she had arrived at the carnival. Reading the article, she found that the story matched the one that Killian had told her earlier that evening. His daughter had gone into the ride and never came out.

Whatever Killian had become in his life, a liar wasn’t one of them.

Emma didn’t know what it was about the man on the screen in front of her, blue eyes staring back at her as if he had a sad story to tell, but more than anything, she saw understanding behind his eyes. He understood what she was going through more than anyone else.

She reached for her phone sending off a text to Will.

Emma: You were right, it was a wild goose chase going after these parents, no one wanted to talk to me. I just need a few days to get right in my head. I’ll text you soon. Love you.

Before she could stop herself, she was in her car, driving down the highway on her way back to Boston. She glanced in the rearview mirror making sure there wasn’t a black car behind her, the officers who had found nothing about her son in the time they had been looking.

When she pulled up to the dock, she looked at herself in the mirror. “This is crazy.” She said with a laugh.

Crazy was all she had, she thought.

Getting out of her car, she made her way toward the boat parked at the end of the slip. She creeped onboard, unsure of the etiquette for alerting the resident of a houseboat to her presence. “Hello?” She called out nervously, hoping he wasn’t brandishing his knife at this hour. “Killian? It’s me, Emma Swan. We met earlier today.”

There was a creak below her, and she froze. “Hello?”

“It’s bad form to sneak into a man’s home in the middle of the night.” She heard the voice below her; his boots tapped against the boards as he ascended the stairs, moonlight dancing against his dark hair as he reached the deck.

“I’m sorry. I uh…I needed to talk to you. To warn you.”

“Warn me? What do you have to warn me about, love?”

“When I left here, I was followed by the cops.”

“Of course, you were. I’m honestly surprised it took Mills this long to send those two out for a visit. Pity they involved you, my apologizes, Swan.”

“Wait, you knew you were being followed?”

“David and Robin have been keeping an eye on me ever since I left Storybrooke. They are determined that one day they will catch me slicing young children to pieces and put me away forever.” He narrowed his eyes. “Is that what you believe, love?”

“I think you just miss your daughter.” She said softly.

“You mean the boys didn’t tell you all about my sordid past?”

“No. Well, I mean yes, but I don’t care. I read all about it, Mr. Gold, Milah, Alice, if you wanted to hurt me you would have done it earlier when you held a knife to my throat. The way I see it, everyone has a past, that doesn’t mean we don’t miss our kids.”

He stepped toward her. “You’re not afraid of me, Lass?”

She shivered as his lips practically danced off her neck. “N..no.” He stepped back and stared at her as if he were examining every inch of her.

“Then you believe my little, how did you put it earlier…fairytale?”

“I don’t know what I believe, but I know my son didn’t run away.”

“Very well, then it’s story time.”

~*~

“Daddy I want to ride the Jolly Roger!”

“Ok starfish, but first daddy needs to get you that churro you wanted.”

“But I want to ride the ride, there’s isn’t any line.”

“But you can’t take food with you on the ride, Alice.”

“I can go on it by myself while you hold my churro, daddy. I’m a big girl.”

“Are you now, love?”

The little girl smiled brightly, and Killian knew he could never tell her no. He paid for the churro and the man handed it toward him as they walked toward the Jolly Roger Adventure ride. They approached the attendant and he handed over the tickets.

“Is she alright to ride alone?”

The man laughed, “Ah yeah, it’s not scary, in one door and out the other.”

He nodded to the man, looking around at the quiet ride, there wasn’t a single child in line. “Alright, starfish, get in your ship and enjoy the ride.” The little girl wrapped her arms around his waist and smiled up at him.

“Love you daddy.”

“I love you too, my darling.”

She ran toward the ride, looking back one last time. “Don’t eat my churro.”

Killian’s eyes darted around the room, watching as the woman examined the photos he had amassed in the belly of his boat. He didn’t know if the woman believed everything he had told her about his dealings with Peter Pan and his traveling carnival, but he knew that she was desperate to find her son and if he knew anything it was that desperate people would believe almost anything.

If Pan had this woman’s son, he would need her to believe him. It was the only way he was ever going to get Alice back. He’d been doing this alone for five years, maybe it was time to try something else.

~*~

“What are you going to do when you get out of here?” Alice asked Henry as they sat in the dark.

“I’m going to eat the biggest piece of birthday cake I’ve ever eaten. I might even eat an entire cake.” The girl laughed. In the few days she had known Henry, he had always been at her side. He was scared and missed his mother, but more than anything else, he seemed to feel comfortable in her presence.

Alice had been here longer than most of the other children, she had remembered that terrifying feeling of being alone, knowing that you were trapped and couldn’t get home. She missed her father more than anything in this world but growing up she had learned a lot from her father about accepting your circumstances, learning to adapt to your environment.

She had done just that, adapted. She didn’t cause trouble, she made friends with all the children, and she knew when to speak and when not to. She felt it was her job to take the children under her wing, to keep them out of harms way.

“What are you going to do when you get out of here?” The boy asked.

“I’m going to sit down with my dad and eat a churro.” She laughed, smiling fondly at the last memory she had of her father standing at the entrance of that stupid ride, holding a teddy bear in one arm and a churro in the other. The smile on his face as he watched her disappear into the black void was the last thing she remembered every night when she went to sleep.

One day, I’ll find you daddy, she thought.

One day, I promise.

[spencerreidslove]

Let’s Be Bad

A/N: I was rewatching season 6 episode 13 “The Thirteenth Step” when it hit me. What if Spencer and Y/N were a crime duo being hunted by the BAU? So this idea was born. This fic is my baby and probably one of the longest things I have ever written. There is mentions of aclchol, a couple sexual themes, and normal Criminal Minds case stuff, so be aware. Let me know if you guys want a part 2 with their interrogation and stuff.

————-

“Buckle up crime fighters, because this one is bad.” Garcia said, standing up at the board. She clicked the remote to show a murder scene, four bodies in total, in a totally destroyed gas station.

“Not only did our bad guy murder four people last night in Chandler, Arizona, the police believe that he also did this.”

Gracia clicked her remote and the picture changed to another scene, six bodies this time, in a drugstore.

“A massacre just outside of Las Vegas, three weeks ago.”

“Three weeks is a long cooling off period.” Rossi said.

“M.O’s the same, though. All shot in the head and then all dragged into a line, store totally destroyed.” Prentiss said.

“With last night’s murder bringing the body count up to 10, the police need our help now. Wheels up in thirty.” Hotch said, standing up from the table.

-

“Seriously? You want to go somewhere cold?” Spencer asked as you made your way into a small sandwich shop, just over the Utah border.

“Yes! Imagine waking up on Christmas Day to a white Christmas.” You said, wrapping your arms around one of Spencer’s.

“Where would we go that’s like that?” He asked, looking up at the menu, printed on a board.

“Wyoming. Up in the mountains. It’s nice there. We’ll get a cabin, live up there, together.”

“Alright,” Spencer said, smiling. “We’ll go to Wyoming. After.” He put one of his arms around your shoulders.

“After.” You agreed.

The two of you made your way to the counter, where a man, no older than 20 or so was waiting.

“What can I get you?” He asked, cleaning a spot on the counter.

He looked up and immediately his eyes latched onto yours.

Spencer said his sandwich order, but the boy didn’t seem to hear him. He was too busy staring at you, making you very uncomfortable.

“Hey.” Spencer said, slamming his hand on the counter. This seemed to knock the boy out of his trance.

“Sorry.” The boy said, still not taking his eyes off you.

“Take your eyes off my girlfriend and take our orders.” Spencer said, getting angrier.

“Sorry, she’s just like really pretty.” The boy said. Under his breath he mumbled, “I don’t see how she ended up with you.”

“That’s it.” Spencer said. He reached into his waistband and pulled out his pistol. Spencer quickly shot the boy in the head, and then turned to the other two patrons in the store. He quickly shot them, and then started moving to put them in a line.

This wasn’t the plan. You had only killed 2 days ago, the police would be quick to link you to this murder. But, Spencer sometimes had a temper and when it took over, there was no going back.

You pulled out your own pistol, and shot the remaining store worker who had come out from the back room.

“I’ll line them up.” You said to Spencer. “Go clear the security cameras.”

Spencer nodded and went into the back room. You spent the next few minutes lining the bodies up in a row. When you went into the back room, you saw Spencer toying with the panel that controlled the cameras.

The cameras quickly went blank, and only showed dark screens.

“I’m so glad you’re smart enough to know how to do that.” You said.

“IQ of 187 sweetheart.” Spencer said. “C’mon, let’s get going before the cops show up.”

-

“Hotch!” Emily called putting across the parking lot. “You aren’t going to believe this.”

Hotch turned his attention from the local police officer to Emily.

“A witness was next door at the craft store and saw a man and woman leave the sandwich shop together a couple of minutes after the gunfire.” Emily said.

“We’re looking for a man and woman killing team?” Hotch asked.

Emily shrugged. “Apparently.”

“Another witness said he saw the back of the liscine plate from across the street.” Morgan said, coming up to the group. “He didn’t get any numbers but he saw it was from Nevada.”

“Makes sense of their first murder was in Vegas.” Emily said.

“Prentiss, make sure the witness who saw the man and woman gets to a sketch artist. Morgan, see if the man remembers what type of car they were driving, then see if Garcia can find anybody from Nevada who drives that model.” Hotch said, directing out tasks.

“Going from three weeks to a 2 day cooling period is a massive deescalation.” Rossi said. “Something in that shop must’ve set them off.”

“You said the security cameras were wiped?” Hotch asked.

“Yeah, you can’t even access them now.” Rossi said.

“Get then to Garcia, she’s the only person who might be able to get them back and working”.

-

“They’ve found out that we’re a man and a woman team.” You said, calling out to Spencer, who was in the bathroom. You were laying on the bed in a random hotel, watching the news, where a blonde woman was talking about your most recent murder.

“Doesn’t matter. They haven’t linked us to the others, have they?” Spencer asked, coming out of the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around his waist.

“They don’t have a clue.” You said.

“Good. For all they know we just shoot random people. They have no clue about the others.” He said.

You smiled as he came over beside you and started kissing your neck. “They’re never gonna get us.” He said.

You laughed a little as Spencer nicked lower on your neck.

“They’re too stupid to know what we’ve done.” You said. You could feel Spencer smile as he continued his kisses lower.

-

“What have you got Garcia?” Hotch asked to the laptop that was sitting on a table in the local police precinct.

“Not a lot, sir. Whoever wiped these cameras is some kind of genius. It’s nearly impossible to get the footage. And I am a cyber genius.” Garcia said.

“So you can’t get any footage off them?”

“Sir, I said it was nearly impossible. I will have this footage recovered wether it kills me. Au revoir!” Garcia said, signing off.

“These sketches aren’t helpful in the slightest.” Prentiss said dropping the pictures on the table. “The witness said she only saw the side profile of the woman and the man had sunglasses on and was faced away from her for most of the time.”

Hotch sighed. “We don’t have enough.”

“Ok, why these people? Why these places? They’re clearly going somewhere, but where is that?” Morgan asked.

“We have too many questions and not enough answers.” JJ said.

-

You were laying across the backseat of the car, your head in Spencer’s lap. You were drinking some kind of random alcohol Spencer had picked up straight out of the bottle.

“I can’t believe we’re here.” Spencer said, stroking your hair and looking out of the window.

“I could’ve waited.” You said.

Your car was parked down the street from your childhood home. It was your brother’s birthday and you knew he would be home. It was finally time to exact your revenge, just had Spencer did.

“Y/N, c’mon. It’ll be good for him to be gone.” Spencer said. “Plus, I get to see your childhood room in all its glory.”

You laughed a little and shoved him lightly. “You got it?” You asked.

Spencer moved as he reachedfor his bag in the front seat. He pulled out a small vile of poison. “Wouldn’t forget it.”

You slowly sat up. “We have a birthday party to attend.”

-

“Oh!” Garcia cried, looking at her computer screen.

She quickly reached over and dialed for Hotch’s phone number. “What have you got, Garcia?”

“I got the footage back! It took a lot of work and a lot of trouble but I got it! It’s already sent to your tablets.”

Hotch picked up the tablet and clicked play on the video Garcia sent him. In the video, a young man and woman were walking into a sandwich shop, talking and holding hands.

“Keep an eye on those customers that just walked in.” Garcia said.

They reached the counter and engaged in a heated discussion with a worker.

“There’s no sound on the original video, so I don’t know what they’re saying.” Garcia said.

The man took a pistol out of his waistband and shot the worker, and then turned and shop the other customers. The woman reached and grabbed a pistol and shop the other employee that had come running out.

The woman began lining the bodies up while the man disappeared into the back room. The woman joined him, and then the cameras went dark.

“Garcia, run their faces, see if anything comes up.” Hotch said.

“Already on it. If they have ever been photographed, I will find their entire life.”

Hotch let out a sigh of relief.

They finally had a break in the case.

-

“I’m nervous.” You said. You and Spencer were standing on the front porch of your childhood house, waiting to ring the bell.

“It’ll be fine. We get in, act all friendly, and then we put it into their drinks, and then we get out.” Spencer said, coming over and rubbing your back.

“Alright.” You said, ringing the doorbell.

There was a moment before somebody came to the door. “Y/N?” A woman asked on the other side of the door.

“Hi, Mom.” You said.

“I thought you said you’d never wanted to come back here again?” Your mom asked.

“Yeah, well things change.” You said. “This is Spencer, he’s coming in too.”

You and Spencer made your way past your mom into the living room where your brother and his wife were sitting.

“Y/N?” You brother asked.

“Max.” You said, addressing him. “Happy Birthday.” It took everything in your power not to slap him. He was the reason for all your suffering.

“It’s nice to see you.” He said, standing up and going to hug you. You flinched slightly, but still managed to hug him back. He squeezed you just a little too tightly.

“And who’s this?” Max asked, looking at Spencer.

“Spencer.” You said.

Max sighed and shook his head. “Never one to elaborate.” He stuck out his hand for Spencer to shake.

Spencer kindly shook it back, giving Max just the slightest smile.

“Happy Birthday.” Spencer said.

You caught Spencer’s eye as Max moved to sit back down. It would be a happy birthday, just not for Max.

-

“We are looking for a man and woman killing team, they are most likely in a relationship and are on a mission.” Hotch said, standing in front of the local PD.

“At this time we do not know what their mission is, but we believe they are on a trip to reach that point. They started in Nevada, and were last seen in Utah. They could be headed for any of the surrounding states, including back to Nevada or Arizona.” Prentiss said.

“They are rapidly devolving, as they went from having a three week cooling off period, to two days. We don’t know when they’ll strike again and have to catch them sooner rather than later.” Rossi said.

“All of their attacks have been in small stores; a drug store, a gas station, a sandwich shop. We believe they choose these places due to personal connection to one. Whoever they are going after probably owns a small store.” Morgan said.

“With that in mind, we suggest all owners of small stores who know somebody who looks like this, to keep an eye out. Do not try to approach them, they are armed and dangerous.” JJ said, from her place outside, briefing the news.

“Everybody keep an eye out and be vigilant.” Hotch said.

The crowd dispersed. Morgan’s phone began to ring.

“Talk to me Babygirl.” He said, answering.

“Well, tall dark and handsome I have some great news for you. I got a hit off the faces from the security feed.” Garcia said.

Morgan put her on speakerphone and the team gathered around to listen.

“Your man is Spencer Reid. Child prodigy from Las Vegas, he graduated high school at age 12 and his IQ tests 187. He dropped out of college at age 16 due to the fact that his mother’s schizophrenia was getting worse. Reid became her full time caregiver until around age 25, when he sighned her up for a new drug test that involved her living in a new campus.

“It seemed to be working, until a year ago when the main Doctor administered a new drug cocktail that was not FDA approved, and ended up killing Reid’s mother and several other patients.” Garcia said.

“Garcia, where’s that doctor now? They might be going to kill him if they both lost a parent.” Rossi said.

“I would say yes, but it seems like they already have. Four weeks ago the doctor, his wife, and son were found dead in their apartment from cyanide poisoning.” Garcia said.

“What about the girl?” Prentiss asked.

“Her name is Y/N Y/L/N. She is from Silverton, Colorado. She was working in a casino in Vegas until around a month ago.”

“Must be how they met.” Morgan said.

“She filed several cases against her older brother Max Y/L/N for physical abuse, but the charges were dropped everytime. From the looks of her hospital records it was bad.”

“They’ve exacted their revenge on Reid’s nemesis, now they want revenge for Y/N. Garcia what’s Max’s address?” Hotch said.

“He won’t be there. On his wife’s Instagram it says they’re going home for his birthday. I’ve sent you that address.” Garcia said.

“We need to get there, and fast.” Rossi said.

-

Talking and laughing with your family for several hours was painful, and Spencer could tell. They had watched you suffer for years at the hands of your brother, and did nothing.

“Why don’t I refill everybody’s drinks?” You asked, standing up.

“I’ll help you.” Spencer said.

After you had collected everybody’s cups, you made your way to the kitchen where you filled everybody’s cups with what they had asked for.

Spencer pulled the cyanide vial out of his pocket, and put a little bit in each cup. When you returned to the living room, you handed everybody their cups and watched as they took drinks.

It would be a few minutes before the poison started to kick in, but you couldn’t wait.

After a few moments, your mom started to choke.

“What’s wrong, honey?” Your dad asked. Then he started to choke. After just a few seconds, everybody was on the floor, choking in pain.

You and Spencer quickly came around, grabbing phones and smashing them with your heels, making sure no one could call 911.

When you reached Max, you kicked his face. “That’s what you get you son of a bitch!”

You kicked him again, and again. Before you could do some more damage, Spencer grabbed your arm.

“We better get out of here, darling. We have a lot of ground to cover.” He said. You nodded and followed him out of the house, with one last slam of the door.

-

“Dammit!” Morgan said, entering the house and seeing that all members of the Y/L/N family were dead in the living room floor.

“They’ve already been here.”

“Hotch, these bodies are still warm, they can’t be far away.” Prentiss said. “We probably just missed them.”

“Hey! We just got a hit from APB, their car was seen headed twoards a hotel a few miles from here.” The local sheriff said.

“Dave stay here and figure out what happened, Morgan, Prentiss, JJ, with me.” Hotch said.

-

You and Spencer we laying on your bed in your hotel room, drinking the same alcohol from earlier.

“You were right.” You said.

“I am about most things. Be more specific.” Spencer said, taking the bottle from you.

“That it would feel good to have him gone.” You said. “I already feel twenty times freer.”

“I knew you would.” Spencer said. He placed the bottle on the bed side table and rolled ove on top of you. “I know lots of things that would make you feel good.”

Suddenly, there was a pounding on the door.

“Spencer Reid! Y/N Y/L/N! This is the FBI open the door!” A male voice called from the outside.

You and Spencer both looked at each other in terror.

Could they maybe have found us? Your eyes asked.

The door was suddenly knocked open and FBI agents were flooding into your room.

Spencer and you were being pulled apart and cuffed.

“Spencer Reid, Y/N Y/L/N, you are being charged with the murders of 21 people.” A serious looking man said.

“What?” You said. “You have the wrong people!”

“No we’re pretty sure we don’t.” A brunette woman said.

“You have to have the wrong people! We haven’t done anything!” Spencer said.

You were both being hauled up by the agents behind you.

“Anything you say can and will be held against you in the court of law. You have the right to an attorney, if you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you.” The agent behind you said, reading off your Miranda rights.

Your eyes caught Spencer’s as you were pulled to separate police cars.

Could this really be it? You thought. It looked like it just might be.

Tags! (Open)

@rexorangecouny @magnificentmgg @rachelxwayne @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @just-damn-bored @andreasworlsboring101

[hb-writes]

Seeing Stars

Written in response to Hauntober prompt #9: Stars.

Summary: Little Lady Blinder universe. Clara, Finn, and Isiah getting up to trouble.

Characters Featured: Tommy Shelby, Finn Shelby, Isiah Jesus, and Clara Shelby (Shelby!Sister)

-----

Polly was certifiably livid, but Tommy found the detour following an afternoon of meetings to get after his siblings and Isiah for something stupid they’d gotten up to a mere annoyance in his day. Sure, he wanted to go for a drink, had expected to be heading out to the Garrison with his brothers by now, but as he headed to the church, he still found himself in good spirits.

Polly had parked the three kids there in the Lord’s house a little after noon, leaving them to think about their actions as the bruises and cuts and scrapes littering their skin grew sore. Polly hoped they’d feel something close to contrition as they waited on the hard wooden pews with nothing but God and themselves for company.

When Tommy pushed open the hall’s great doors, laughter found his ears, a chorus of entirely unbothered giggles, his sister’s harmonious cackle a touch louder than the other two. He couldn’t imagine why Polly had any faith in Finn, Clara, and Isiah passing the afternoon hours sitting somberly, seeking absolution from their sins. The three of them had never been particularly good with atoning unless they were scared out of their wits about what would be coming to them next.

“I thought your aunt was going to fucking murder us,” Isiah said. “You, especially.” He nudged Clara in the shoulder and she smirked, propping her feet up on the seat between them.

“We’ve had worse,” Clara answered.

“Just you wait until Thomas hears about this. You three’ll be the ones seeing stars when he knocks some sense into you.” 

Clara and Isiah roared at Finn’s ‘Polly Gray’ impression, Clara’s feet kicking against the pew as she laughed. 

“By the sounds of it, I should do a lot more than knock you three idiots upside the head.” 

Clara was closest, sitting near the center aisle, with Isiah to her right and Finn in the pew ahead of them, her back to Tommy.

“Whatever she’s told you, she’s exaggerating,” Finn offered, occupying Tommy’s attention long enough to give his sister a moment to turn around.

“Oh, is that right?” Tommy asked, hands in his pocket as he looked between the kids. “You three didn’t start a—”

“Pol’s just being overdramatic because she’s got nothing better to do than get after— Ow, Tommy!”

Clara grabbed at his hand, pushing it away after he tapped the back of her head. 

“Was your aunt being dramatic or was she in the right?” he asked.

Tommy heard a different answer from each of them and he focused on Isiah, the most reasonable of the three, most reliable when trouble was involved because he wasn’t family. Tommy could count on the boy for the truth, even if it was like pulling teeth to get the actual words out.

“She was just being excessive, Tommy. You know how she is,” Clara said, pulling Tommy’s eyes back to her.

“You keep your mouth shut.” 

At meeting his eye, Clara averted her gaze, reaching up to cover the back of her head in case he decided to give her another smack. 

Tommy’s hand clasped down over the crown of her head and he noted her flinch as he turned her head to face him. “You’d save us all a lot of grief if you’d learn to do that, especially where Aunt Polly is concerned, and especially when you’re supposed to have been at school rather than out messing around.” 

“It was a half-day at school. I told y—”

“Fine, that doesn’t mean you have any business being out startin—”

“I wasn—”

“Enough, Clara.”  

Clara’s shoulders slumped, the last of the belligerence flowing out of her and he fit his hand under her chin, tilting her head up towards the light as he studied the bruising on her face. “You’re alright?”

“I’m fine, Tommy,” Clara offered, the corner of her lip pulling up just a bit as she glanced up at him. “You should see the other kid. He probably really was seeing stars.”

“She kicked his arse, Tommy,” Finn said.

Tommy rolled his eyes as he dropped his hand. “Yeah, well, she shouldn’t have been doing anything of the sort. You three know better.”

“Tom, it was just a bit of fun. No harm done,” Finn said. 

“Right, that’s why our thirteen-year-old sister’s got herself a black eye.”

“We’re nearly fourt—” 

Tommy looked at her again, his long blink daring her to finish the sentence, but instead, she stopped herself and settled back against the pew so Tommy turned his head towards Isiah.

“Right, Isiah. We can’t trust these two, so which is it? Was Polly justified or—”

“Tom, it’s not really my place.” 

“I’m asking you, so it is,” he answered. 

Isiah took a moment, avoiding the twin’s stares, and met Tommy’s eye instead. “I think Polly was a bit dramat—”

“See!” Clara stood up in front of Tommy, gesturing towards Isiah. “Even Siah says—”

Tommy tugged Clara forward, placing her back to his chest as he clapped a hand over her mouth, Clara’s hands immediately going to his arm as she worked to loosen his hold, her protests muffled. 

Tommy ignored her, nodding towards Isiah. “Go on, Isiah.” 

“It was a show, dragged these two down the lane by their ears, but she was probably justified a bit,” Isiah answered. “But Finn’s right, too, Tom. It was brilliant and—”

Tommy felt his sister’s smile grow beneath the hand he’d been using to keep her quiet, her hands settling on his arm for a moment instead of fighting him. 

“We made a killing, Tom,” Finn said. “No one bet on her. Thought she couldn’t fight ‘cause she’s a girl, but she knocked him right out.” 

Clara dropped her hands from Tommy’s arm and dug deep into her pockets, pulling out a wad of notes.

“We wanted to help with buying her the house,” Finn said.

Tommy looked down to his sister, his hand dropping to her shoulder. “That was meant to be a secret, Clara.”

Clara tilted her head back to look up at him. “Finn and Siah won’t tell. They promised.”

“I know we can trust Isiah, but is that right, Finn? You won’t tell?”

It was still months out, Polly’s birthday, but he was planning already, getting ready to move the cash they’d accumulated through the shop and the protection work into real estate. He’d told Polly of his plans to buy a place for Ada, but the home for her was to be a surprise.

“I can keep a bloody secret, Tommy,” Finn said.

“Yeah, well you’d better. It’s meant to be a surprise,” Tommy answered. “And no more fucking fighting. I had you boys teach her so she could protect herself, not so you three could run a fighting ring out on the lane, and a fixed one at that.” 

“We’re just continuing the family business,” Clara answered. “Learned it from you.”

“Yeah, well the business is changing, which is why you’re meant to be spending your days in a classroom on the other side of Birmingham and you two aren’t meant to be scrapping in the lane. No need for you three to be worried about making money, there’s plenty of it to go around these days.” 

“We were just trying to help.”

“Well, you’ll be a bigger help if you stop giving Polly such a headache, eh?”

They all grumbled some form of an affirmative answer. 

“Alright, let’s get you off home, then,” Tommy said, his arm over Clara’s shoulder as they walked out to the lane.

“Can’t we come with you to the Garrison?” Finn asked when they were nearly back to Watery Lane, just after Isiah left them to head for his own home.

Tommy turned to Finn about to speak, but Clara beat him to it, her voice an octave lower than normal.

“Come with me to the Garrison? You’re lucky I don’t knock you idiots upside the head so hard you’re seeing stars. You’re going home and you’re going to bed witho--” 

Finn’s eyes went wide for a moment and Clara swallowed hard rather than finishing her sentence.

“No, that sounds about right,” Tommy answered. “Off to bed with you both, no supper.” 

“No, no, Tommy,” Clara answered. “I was just being clever. Aunt Polly didn’t let us have lunch and it’s not even six yet.”

“Maybe this will teach you to stop being so clever.” Tommy glanced to Finn. “And you to stop obliging your sister’s foolish whims.” 

“It’ll be their cleverness that’ll—” 

“Enough with the voices, Finn,” Tommy snapped as the twins began laughing again.

“But they’re funny,” Clara said.

“Am I laughing?” Tommy asked.

“No, because you’ve become a horrible grouchy old man,” Clara said. 

“I’ll show y—“

“I’ll show y—“

Tommy stopped himself and raised an eyebrow at the girl, at her words, the very same words as his, spoken at the very same moment, her voice humorously deep though the pitch didn’t quite match. 

Clara smiled up at Tommy before grabbing Finn’s arm, pulling him a step away from their older brother. 

“I think we should be getting home, Finn. Let Tommy get on with his evening. No more threats of making anyone see stars, needed eh, Tommy? We’ll go back and put ourselves to bed early. No supper. No more voices. No more unsolicited cleverness.”

Tommy made no attempt to hide his smirk and Clara chanced a hug. 

“We are sorry for the trouble, Tommy. We were just trying to help,” she mumbled into his coat.

Tommy ran a hand down the back of her head.

“Go apologize to your aunt, eh? Maybe she’ll still let you have your supper.”

-----

Read more Little Lady Blinder stories here.

[crying-in-a-stall]

Incorrect Sanders Sides

Virgil: Who the fuck added me to a fucking group chat? Roman: >:O language Patton: Yeah watch your fucking language Janus: OKAY WHO TAUGHT PATTON THE FUCK WORD? Roman: 'The fuck word'. Logan: Are you stupid? You guys use the f word all the time Roman: Oh my god they censored it Remus: Say fuck, Logan. Virgil: Do it, Logan. Say fuck.

Virgil: Well, aren’t you all a rag-tag group of adventurers with unclear goals and good hearts! Oh, let me guess: you’re out to save the world! Roman: Well, actually, that sounds like a pretty fair assessment. Janus: More or less, I guess... Patton: That sounds awesome! Let’s do that! Remus: I’m new here, but I am open to the concept. Logan: I thought that’s what we were doing, guys, come on!

Roman: Hewwo. Patton: Hihiiiiii! Logan: Greetings, Humans. Janus: Three kinds of people. Virgil: I want pudding. Janus: Four kinds of people. Remus: WHAT’S UP FUCKERS? Janus: Five kinds of people.

Logan: Just be yourself. Virgil: 'Be myself'? Logan, I have one day to win Roman over. How long did it take before you guys started liking me? Patton: Couple weeks. Remus: Six months. Janus: Jury’s still out. Virgil: See, Logan? Virgil: 'Be myself'. What kind of garbage advice is that?

Virgil: Croissants; dropped Roman: Road; works ahead Remus: BBQ sauce; on my titties Patton: Shavacado; fre Janus: Miss Keisha; fuckin dead Logan: Logan, grumpy: I didn’t understand a single word of that and I hate every single one of you.

Patton: We need to distract these guys Remus: Leave it to me Remus: Centaurs have six limbs and are therefore insects. Discuss. Logan, Roman, and Janus: *Immediately begin arguing* Virgil, watching in horror: Oh this. I don’t like this. I don't like this at all.

Virgil: Rules are made to be broken. Logan: They were made to be followed. Nothing is made to be broken. Patton: Uh, piñatas. Remus: Glow sticks. Janus: Karate boards. Roman: Spaghetti when you have a small pot. Virgil: Rules. Logan: …

Logan: Dumbest scar stories, go! Roman: I burned my tongue once drinking tea. Patton: I dropped a hair dryer on my leg once and burned it. Remus: I have a piece of graphite in my leg for accidentally stabbing myself with a pencil in the first grade. Janus: I was taking a cup of noodles out of the microwave and spilled it on my hand and I got a really bad burn. Virgil: … Virgil: I have emotional scars.

Logan: Anyone d- Virgil: Depressed? Roman: Drained? Patton: Dumb? Remus: Disliked? Janus: Distrusted? Logan: -done with their work... what is wrong with you people …

Patton: Imagine if someone handed you a box full of all the items you have lost throughout your life Virgil: Self-esteem, haven't seen you in years! Janus: Oh wow, my childhood innocence! Thank you for finding this! Roman: I knew I lost that potential somewhere! Remus: My moral code, is that you? Logan: ... Patton: I was just gonna show you this cool trunk my mother left me but do you guys need a hug?

Janus: Nothing in life is free. Patton: Love is free! Roman: Adventure is free. Logan: Knowledge is free. Virgil and Remus at the same time: Everything is free if you take it without paying.

Patton: What does 'take out' mean? Logan: Food. Roman: Dating Virgil: Murder Remus: IT CAN MEAN ALL THREE IF YOU'RE NOT A COWARD.

Remus: I’ve done a lot of dumb stuff. Janus: I witnessed the dumb stuff. Virgil: I recorded the dumb stuff. Patton: I joined in on the dumb stuff. Logan: I TRIED TO STOP YOU FROM DOING THE DUMB STUFF!!!

Janus: What did you guys get in your yearbook? Roman: 'Prettiest Smile' Patton: 'Nicest Personality' Remus: 'Most likely to start a bar fight' Virgil: 'Least likely to start a bar fight, but most likely to win one'

Logan: There are seven chairs and ten kids. What do you do? Virgil: Have everyone stand. Patton: Bring three more chairs! Janus: The most important ones can sit down. Remus: Kill three.

Logan: Good morning. Patton: Good morning. Roman: Good morning. Thomas: You all sound like robots, try spicing it up a bit. Virgil: MORNING MOTHERFUCKERS

Patton: What if the person who named Walkie Talkies named everything? Remus: Pregnancy tests are Maybe Babies Janus: Socks are Feetie Heaties Virgil: Forks are Stabby Grabbies Remus: Defibrillators are Heartie Starties Virgil: Nightmares are Dreamy Screamies Janus: Stamps are Lickie Stickies Logan, annoyed: You are disappointments Roman: Why isn’t the statue smirking at me? Logan: It isn’t smirking at anyone, they’re all just imagining it. Patton: Three of us saw it, Logan. How do you explain that? Logan: *points at Janus* Sleep deprivation. *points at Virgil* Paranoia. *points at Remus* Delusional personality disorder. And you just believe everything, Patton.

Janus: Favorite horror movie? Remus: It Logan: Saw Roman: Annabelle Virgil: High School Musical. After watching it I spent all my middle school years terrified that the entire school would start singing something and I’d be the only one who didn’t know the lyrics

Virgil: We need more help. Maybe I should call my friends. Remus: ... Your what? Virgil: My friends. Janus: Are they saying “friends”? Remus: I think they're being sarcastic. Janus: No, no, no, this is delirium, they've cracked from being awake all night. Hey, Virgil! All of your friends are in this room. Virgil: I have other friends! You asked me to make new friends, I made new friends! It was a task. I complete tasks.

Patton, trying to convince Virgil to join the group: You know... I thought it'd be good to have someone come along who's really... strong! Roman: And grumpy! Logan: And oblivious to reality! Virgil: …

Roman: You lying, cheating, piece of shit! Virgil: Oh yeah? You’re the idiot who thinks you can get away with everything you do. WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD Roman: I’m leaving you, and I’M TAKING PATTON WITH ME Logan, picking up the monopoly board: I think we’re gonna stop playing now.

*Patton is cooking* Roman: Any chance that’s for me? Patton: It’s for Logan. I’m planning on making some bad choices tonight, and I need them on my side. Virgil: I never realized the forethought that went into being a disappointment.

Patton: Hey, is Roman sleeping or dead? Virgil: Hopefully dead, I hated their guts. Logan: Yeah, so did I. Roman: Okay first of all, fuck you-

Virgil: Is stabbing someone immoral? Janus: Not if they consent to it. Remus: Depends who you’re stabbing. Logan, who was dragged into the dark sides meeting: YES?!?

Janus: Self care is actually getting into fights with randoms in dark alleys. Patton: No, self care is stuff like taking a bubble bath, or putting on a lot of makeup if you like it, or taking a nice warm nap! Logan: Self-care is any necessary human regulatory function which is under individual control, deliberate and self-initiated. Janus: Self care is the burning heat when rage washes over you!! Virgil: Self care is when you feel the bones crack under your powerful fists!! Roman: Self care is the fear in your enemies’ eyes!!! Remus: Lmao self care is taking your birthday cake just so I can eat the frosting. Patton: If you touch my birthday cake I’ll make you eat your hands.

Roman: You are now one day closer to eating your next plate of Nachos. Logan: That's the most hopeful thing I've ever heard. Virgil: But what if I die tomorrow and never eat any Nachos? Patton: Then tomorrow is nacho lucky day.

Roman, banging on the door: Virgil! Open up! Virgil: Well, it all started when I was a kid... Logan: No, they meant- Patton: Let them finish.

Janus: Come on, I wasn’t that drunk last night. Virgil: You were flirting with Remus. Janus: So what? They're my partner. Remus: You asked me if I was single. Virgil: And then you cried when they said they weren't.

Store Worker: Would a ‘Janus’ please come to the front desk? Janus, arriving at the desk: Hello, is there a problem? Store Worker: points to Remus and Virgil Store Worker: I believe they belong to you? Remus and Virgil, simultaneously: We got lost :( Janus: I didn’t even bring you guys here with me-

Janus, driving Remus and Virgil: So how was your day? Remus: We almost got surprise adopted! Janus: What? Virgil: We almost got kidnapped. Janus: Oh, okay. Janus: *slams on the breaks* WAIT WHAT?!

Janus: Sometimes I drink milk straight out of the container. Remus: The cow??? Janus: What? Virgil: Remus, W H Y?

Roman: Virgil, my old arch enemy. Remus: ... I thought I was your arch enemy? Roman: I have a life outside of you, Remus.

Remus: How's the sexiest person here~? Janus: I don't know, how are they~? Remus, flustered: I- Virgil, from across the room: I'm doing great, thanks!

Patton: Are you the big spoon or the little spoon? Virgil: I'm a knife. Roman, from across the room: They're the little spoon.

Roman: So, what, now I’m just supposed to do anything that Logan does? I mean, what if they jumped off a cliff? Patton: If Logan were to jump off a cliff, they would’ve done their due diligence regarding the height of the cliff, the depth of the water, and the angle of entry, so yes. If you see Logan jump off a cliff, by all means, jump off a cliff. Roman: You jump off a cliff! Patton: Gladly. Provided Logan did first.

Janus: I know you snuck out last night, Remus. Virgil: Play dumb! Remus: Who's Remus? Virgil: NOT THAT DUMB!!!

Roman: Fitness tip, never stop pushing yourself. Logan: Some say 8 hours of sleep is enough. Why not keep going? Virgil: Why not 9? Why not 10? ]Janus: Strive for greatness. Roman: Next time you’re working out do 15 push ups instead of 10. Run 3 miles instead of 2. Patton, from the background: Eat a whole cake instead of just a slice. Remus from the background: Burn your ex’s house down. Roman: You can do it. I believe in you. Thomas: There were so many mixed messages in that I can’t-

Remus: I can’t believe you live nearby, and you won’t let anyone crash at your place. Virgil: You people already know too much about me. Janus: I know exactly three facts about you, and one of them is that you won’t let any of us crash at your place.

Virgil: Janus, can I talk to you for a second? Janus: Yeah, what’s up? Remus: Lemme guess. You and Roman are having problems and you want me to teach you how to kiss? Virgil: What? No, stop that. I know how to kiss. I’ve read books.

Remus: In my defense, I was left unsupervised. Janus: Wasn't Virgil with you? Virgil: In my defense, I was also left unsupervised.

Remus: Okay, help me please! Virgil: Got two words for you. Janus: I bet they won't be helpful. Virgil: Your problem. Janus: I was right

Virgil: So are we flirting right now? Roman: I AM LITERALLY STABBING YOU Virgil: That doesn’t answer my question

Patton: Where are you going? Remus: To get ice cream or commit a felony, I’ll decide on the way there Patton: Can you get me a strawberry cone? Janus: Can you kill Virgil? Virgil: Can you kill Roman? Roman: Can you kill Janus? Logan: Can you not commit a felony?

Logan: It’s dark in here Patton: Don’t worry fam, I got this Patton: *Stomps their feet* Patton: *Sketchers light up*

Logan: So what do you do? Janus: I work in genetic research, and I'm currently trying to eliminate all Cancers. Logan: Wow, impressive. Janus: Then I'll move on to Leos.

Remus: Don’t worry, I have a few knives up my sleeve. Roman: I think you mean cards. Remus, pulling knives out of their sleeves: No, I do not.

Virgil: We went through an entire character arc during quarantine Janus: We all became more evil if you’re curious Patton: We're still in quarantine, don't worry, there's time for a redemption arc still! Remus: I’m going to get worse on purpose

Patton: Am I in trouble? Logan: Take a guess. Patton: No? Logan: Take another guess.

Patton: Oh just so you know, it's very muggy outside Roman: *holding in a laugh* Logan: Patton, I swear, if I step outside and all of our mugs are on the front lawn... Virgil: *Sips coffee from bowl*

Virgil: You kill people for money?! Virgil: Can I pay you? Janus: Virgil no- Remus: And all this time I’ve been doing it for free like a chump!

Roman: What are your goals? Thomas as Patton: To pet all the dogs. Logan: No, fitness goals. Thomas as Patton: To be able to run fast enough to pet all the dogs.

Patton: I've already sent good vibes your way… they’re coming. There’s nothing you can do to stop them. Virgil: This is the most threatening way I’ve ever been cheered up.

Virgil: Name a more iconic duo than my crippling fear of abandonment and my paranoia. I'll wait. Patton’s Card: FAM - ILY Virgil, tearing up: Okay.

Logan: I actually have a black belt. Roman: In what, karate? Logan: No, from Gucci.

Remus: Am I going too far? Janus: No, no, no. You went too far about seven hours ago. Now you're going to prison.

Patton, motioning to a Halloween display: All these ghosts! All these ghosts! I still can’t find a boo. Logan: Babe, I’m right here.

Remus: You think I really give a fuck? I can’t even read.

Virgil: Okay okay stop asking me if I'm straight, gay, bi, whatever. I identify as a FUCKING THREAT. Roman, from across the room: You tell ‘em, babe!

Roman: You can de-escalate any situation by simply saying, 'Are we about to kiss?' Remus: Doesn't work for getting out of speeding tickets, by the way.

[fuabloboi]

The Treehouse

Day 2 of @petopher-events March 2021 - Kid fic

1982

“Hey! That’s my tree!” Chris peeked down, rubbing his face with the back of his arm as he heard a high-pitched fierce voice.

He groaned, running a hand over his short bristly hair. All he wanted was some peace and quiet. Chris had just been beaten to a pulp by his father, and he was aware that if Gerard saw him cry, he would be battered all over again. He had ended up on a sturdy tree in the preserve after sneaking out the window, silently sobbing to himself. There was nowhere else Chris could have gone. If he tried to run away, Gerard would have still found him and he would have been returned to the Argent household by someone else. Sadly, his father had way too much influence over the county and its people.

“Shut up, it hasn’t got your name on it.” he shouted back.

“As a matter of fact, yes it does.” the voice cried out in reply.

Chris turned his head and caught sight of the initials ‘P. H.’ engraved onto the bark. He almost fell off when he faced forwards and saw a little dark-haired boy with big blue eyes perched opposite him.

“See.” he tilted his head.

“Well, now it’s got mine.” Chris muttered, fishing the pocket knife he carried everywhere and carving his own initials leaving a gap next to the other.

The boy rolled his eyes but outstretched his arm, “I’m Peter. Are you- are you okay?”

“Chris,” he said, shaking the boy’s hand, “And yeah I’m fine.”

“Don’t look like it.”

There wasn’t a single day he didn’t have a black eye, a bruise, or a cut. Gerard always found some reason to punish him and not even his own mother could do anything about it. He wasn’t even sure of how he was alive at that point.

“It doesn’t matter.” he replied hastily and asked, “How old are you?”

“Six.” Peter told him and continued, “What about you?”

“I’m twelve. And how’d you get up here so fast?” Chris inquired since he was confused as to how a six-year-old could race up such a tall tree.

Peter’s deep blue eyes briefly flashed in a golden yellow, and Chris realized that this kid was what Gerard wanted him to hunt down; a werewolf. However, unlike the vivid picture of bloodthirsty savage werewolves and their young that Gerard had painted in his head, the boy didn’t seem like a threat at all. Chris saw him as a human, not a monster.

Peter gasped suddenly, “You’re one of them aren’t you?”

“One of who?” he raised an eyebrow.

“The Argents.” the boy stated calmly.

Chris flinched and nodded at him. He had expected Peter to be afraid of him, and even run away, but he hadn’t. He sat completely unfazed and Chris was surprised.

“What are you doing here?” Peter questioned again.

“Nothing really. It’s peaceful up here and I like it.” he lied. Peter didn’t need to know why he actually came there. Chris wasn’t even sure whether the wolf would have understood if he had been honest.

“Cool!” the boy stared at him before exclaiming with a grin, revealing the absence of a few teeth, making Chris smile as well.

*

“Hey!” Peter greeted, hurtling up the tree and settling in front of him.

“Hey, Peter. What’s this?” Chris smiled at the boy and asked when he held out an energy bar packed in a blue wrapper.

“What it looks like, obviously.” he regarded, waving it, “Take it. I got it for you.”

“Me? Why?” he said, taking it from the wolf’s hands and tearing it open.

“You ask too many questions. I brought it thinking you might be here when I came.” Peter answered, digging into another energy bar that he had kept in his pocket.

“Well, thanks.” Chris replied, taking a bite.

He knew his father would have him whipped for accepting food from a werewolf without a second thought, but he was too famished to care. Gerard didn’t only beat him, he also starved Chris as punishment. The bar tasted like heaven and he wolfed it down. He was more than glad that Peter had brought it for him and yet he was also puzzled.

“You were hungry, I sensed it yesterday.” Peter revealed, licking his fingers.

“Really?” Chris said and stuffed the wrapper in his jacket pocket, “Why did you bring it, though? Why did you trust me? You know I’m… one of them.”

Chris didn’t even want to mention his own last name. He detested being an Argent and being referred to by that name.

“You smell nice.” Peter responded matter-of-factly, but Chris was confused.

He had loathed his own scent, however, with time he had grown accustomed to it. Chris knew he smelled of dried blood combined with sweat and he was pretty sure that didn’t smell nice. Horrible and disgusting seemed more likely.

“Excuse me, what?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, Ta said that people who smell nice are good people and I can trust them.” Peter explained.

“Ta?”

“Talia, my sister. She started taking care of me after Ma and Pa- after they went to a better place.”

Everyone had heard the term ‘a better place’ at some point in their lives and that was when Chris pieced it together. Peter wasn’t just any ordinary werewolf who lived in Beacon Hills.

“You- you’re a Hale.” Chris stated wide-eyed.

“Yup.” Peter said bobbing his head.

It had taken place about a year ago when he was eleven and Chris could remember it clearly. Gerard had gloated to his fellow hunters about his achievement of being able to capture and kill both Richard and Emilia Hale, the two oldest members of the family, who were also widely known in the supernatural world. He had seen them briefly and to him, they seemed like genuinely pleasant people. His father had told him that Chris wasn’t old enough to understand, but he was sure that Gerard wasn’t doing something right if he could so heartlessly torture him. He had come to acknowledge that Gerard had the best interest to no one and only for himself.

1986

Chris yawned, his legs dangling from the tree and Peter was munching on an apple, murdering it with his fangs. The wolf was taller now and his hair had grown, the fringe covering his forehead and just above his eyes. It had been a gloomy day and Chris had made it to the tree right after training. He had been beaten again and his body had ached so much that he struggled to get on the tree, but Peter had helped him up and offered an apple.

They had been meeting every day for four years now and Gerard, thankfully, hadn’t suspected a thing. It was most probably since his younger sister Katherine had been born three years ago. The young wolf would arrive with food and they’d sit there together, sometimes talking and sometimes silent.

As a result of their conversations, Chris had discovered that Talia, Peter’s older sister was the alpha of the Hale pack and was the mother to a little wolf girl named Laura. He also found out that Peter was prone to have fits of rage, destroying his own toys. However, Peter had mentioned that he felt comfortable with him and Chris had never witnessed such behavior from the wolf.

“Christopher?” the boy called out.

Peter had begun to call him ‘Christopher’ instead of what everyone else called him in his life and Chris found that amusing. He liked the boy and he didn’t mind meeting him each day for the rest of his life. Chris wondered whether things would change by then, whether he’d escape Gerard and there would be no more hunting, a world where he and Peter could meet freely, no violence, no death, just peace, and happiness.

“Yeah?” he replied lazily, yawning again. Chris was still tired and he needed to nap. He couldn’t do that at home, and as uncomfortable as it would be, Chris felt like sleeping up on the tree.

“What do you think about a treehouse?” Peter suggested with a grin, chucking away the remainder of the apple.

“I like that.” Chris smiled, “But… only if you help me build one.”

Peter rolled his eyes and groaned, “Of course you’d say that. Fine, I’ll help.”

“Great. We start tomorrow. I’m gonna nap.” he muttered to the wolf before closing his eyes, cozying himself on the not-so-comfy branch.

“Well, I’ll be here protecting you.” Peter said and Chris laughed a little.

“And what are you going to do if someone tries to kill us?” He opened an eye to look at the Hale.

In an instant, Peter drew his claws and tried to growl menacingly. Chris thought that it was adorable.

1988

“Christopher!!!” Peter exclaimed, jumping off the tree and launching himself onto Chris, wrapping him in a tight hug. The wolf was twelve and several inches shorter than him but was obviously stronger than most kids his age.

“Peter, woah geez I’m human.” he laughed, stuck inside the rib-crushing hug.

“Happy 18th Birthday! Well, late birthday.” the boy shouted, hugging him tighter.

“Thank you, kiddo.” Chris groaned and Peter let go of him, grinning.

It had been Chris’ birthday the week before and he had been in Japan, doing his first gun deal with the goddamn Yakuza. Gerard’s idea of a birthday present was putting him in a near-death situation and Chris wasn’t even surprised. The experience had been extremely unsettling and so terrible, that he wanted to forget his 18th birthday. He had informed Peter about it a few days before but not many details as even Chris had been unaware of what he was going into until he had made it to the venue.

“What happened? You look pretty shaken up.” Peter eyed him, suspiciously.

“Yeah, it wasn’t that great. It was a gun deal with the Yakuza and it didn’t go that well, but I’m alive, right? So that’s what matters.” Chris managed a weak smile. He knew he couldn’t lie and Peter was always worried about him so he kept the details of figures materializing out of the shadows with swords similar to ninjatos to himself.

“The ya- what?” the wolf blinked at him.

“It’s like Japanese mafia, Pete.” he answered, ruffling Peter’s hair.

“Woah geez. Are you hurt?” Peter raised an eyebrow at him.

“Nah, nah I’m good.” Chris smiled. He was telling the truth in a way. Though he was injured then, he was better now and he was used to the pain regardless.

“Well enough of that. We’re going to have a proper celebration.” the boy smirked and Chris wanted to facepalm himself. He was sure that Peter would have planned something. It was just the way he was. Chris had never wanted anything for his birthday but the wolf would get him small trinkets and he appreciated it very much.

Chris had genuinely been surprised when Peter had introduced him as his best friend to the rest of the Hales. Peter’s sister Talia had dinner prepared and even baked a cake with ‘Happy 18th Birthday Chris!’ on it. Peter had made him what seemed like a bracelet with a little piece of wood shaped like a tree, which Chris assumed was to signify how they met. He had almost cried at the Hale House. He had never been so happy and no one had ever done anything so amazing for him. The Hales had treated Chris like he was one of their own and given him a birthday that he would never forget. The next morning Chris had sneaked back into the house, and Gerard hadn’t noticed his disappearance as always.

1992

“Christopher!” Peter yelled, and he could detect the excitement in his voice, “I did it!”

Chris sniggered as he slipped the wolf figurine that he had been carving for the past hour into his left jacket pocket. He sheathed the knife in his boot, stepped out, and settled on a branch before hanging upside down to greet the wolf.

“I did my first evolved shift!” he panted as he came to a halt.

It took a while for Peter to come into view and Chris shut his eyes when he did, almost plummeting onto the ground below.

“Why are you naked?” Chris groaned.

“What do you- have you seen wolves wearing clothes?” Peter whined back.

“Go get yourself some clothes or I’m leaving.” he said, with his eyes still closed.

There was another whine from the younger boy and it made him snicker. He loved how Peter could always lighten up his mood somehow. It was good and he felt lucky to have the wolf in his life. It had been ten years since they had met and Chris’ life had changed for the better though his father still made his life a living hell. Peter made him forget all of it when they spent time together.

“Ughhh will you come with me? Please, please, pretty please Christopher?”

“Fine.”

Chris landed onto his feet with a flip without opening his eyes and Peter snorted, before snarling. When he glanced in the direction of the sound, Chris saw a wolf with dark black sleek fur. He lowered himself onto one knee so he could run his hand through Peter’s coat. He let out something like a satisfied purr and Chris got back onto his feet. Then they were off, sprinting through the preserve back to the Hale house. Peter was quick, but Chris managed to keep up with him.

Once they had arrived at the residence, Peter shot up the stairs to his room. He came back down in his usual V-neck and jeans with a pout. His hair was shorter now and in a mess as always, yet Chris considered it to look good on him. The two of them went back to their tree, this time walking slowly.

They spent the day chasing each other around through the trees. Chris felt like an idiot for playing, but he was having fun and soon he became comfortable. It was pretty late when Chris was feeling exhausted, so Peter decided that they should take a swim in the lake. They fooled around for a couple of minutes and it was when they dried off to get dressed that Chris remembered about the wolf he had carved. When they got back to the treehouse, Chris had gifted the figurine to an astonished Peter. The wolf had adored it from first sight and thanked him endlessly. Since it was dark, they silently lied down next to each other on the wooden floor. Chris was an adult so he knew that Gerard didn’t give a damn about him as long as he was at the house in the morning.

“Christopher, can I say something?” Peter suddenly spoke up.

“Yeah?” he responded, turning to the side and propping himself up on his elbow.

“I- I- it’s hard to say.” he chuckled lightly, “Never mind.”

“Just go on Pete.” Chris hummed at the boy.

“I- I like you. A lot. You know- more- more than just a friend. I- I just didn’t understand it before.” he mumbled, stuttering a little.

Chris sighed, closing his eyes and lying on his back once more.

“Peter, you’re sixteen. What you feel- it’s not love. It’s just something you feel at this age as you grow.” he explained, “You will know what it’s like to be in love when you’re older, but this as much as you think it is, it isn’t.”

“Okay.” said Peter, softly and Chris flinched as he detected the hurt in the Hale’s voice.

‘I smiled sadly for a love I could not obey’ from David Bowie’s Lady Stardust started ringing in his head, because that’s exactly what he was doing now.

He had acknowledged that there was more than just a brotherly affection he felt towards Peter. He wanted to wrap the wolf in his arms, love him and protect him, but it just wasn’t right. Peter was a sixteen-year-old. He was still a boy in high school while Chris - he was twenty-two; an adult. Chris was disgusted by his own self for the attraction he had to the teenager. It may just be a six year age gap, but Peter was a kid and he wasn’t. It was wrong and Chris detested that he couldn’t view Peter as just his best friend anymore.

Even if their ages weren’t a problem, anything else between them would only give Gerard more reason to harm Peter if he found out. Chris didn’t give a damn about what happened to him. He needed the wolf to be safe no matter what and it would break him if Peter was hurt. It was a sacrifice that he had to make, so they wouldn’t lose what they already had. To Gerard, it wouldn’t be just about loving a werewolf, but also about loving a man.

1993

Peter was already at the treehouse when Chris got there. They were still the best of friends even after the confession from Peter almost a year ago. Things remained just the same and the younger boy didn’t make any advances. This day Chris had news. News that was going to change his life and possibly affect their friendship as well.

“Hey, Pete.” Chris greeted as he settled himself opposite Peter on the wooden floor.

“Christopher.” Peter smiled at him. He had grown into a beautiful man now and Chris still could recall the six-year-old with the missing teeth. Chris had literally watched him grow through the years.

“I’ve- I’ve got news. I’m getting-” he started to say, but was soon interrupted.

“Married next week,” Peter finished his sentence and Chris frowned, “What? All of the supernatural world knows. A hunter family visiting Beacon Hills? It’s obvious. Besides, news spreads around here fast.”

He stared at Peter with his jaw dropped and then nodded. The wolf was right about all of it and Gerard had planned it to be a grand wedding. The funny thing about that was the fact that Chris had never seen the girl he was going to marry or even heard her name. Obviously, Gerard was doing it for his own benefit. He pondered over the question of what it would be like to live with a stranger for the rest of his life.

“Yes.” he said, confirming what Peter had said.

“Well, I’ve got some news too, Christopher.” Peter spoke again, his tone slightly somber.

“What’s that?” Chris inquired.

“I’m leaving. For college that is.” his voice was soft, and Chris couldn’t believe that he had forgotten. Of course, Peter was going to leave. He had mentioned that he was contemplating that decision some time ago. Maybe Chris had been thinking that it wouldn’t come to that.

“Where to?” he asked the boy.

“Oh, that- no idea yet. I’ve got a little more time.” Peter grinned and Chris cracked up.

They spent that entire day together as there was a possibility that it would be the last one they could meet each other freely. It was as much as he could have. Though Chris loved him too, they would be star-crossed lovers and he just wanted to save Peter from that pain.

1998

“Daddy, where thish?” the little dark-haired fair girl in Chris’ arms chirped.

“We’re going to see my good friend, Ally sweetheart.” he said, kissing the top of her head. She was four but insisted on being carried and Chris just couldn’t say no.

“Okay, Daddy.” she hummed, resting her head against his collarbone.

It had been a long while since he had gone back to the treehouse. Chris had become busier with the business and had the responsibility of sustaining a family. Besides, Peter was away as well and he missed the wolf dearly. It was tough at first, not being able to meet his best friend, talk to him or hear of how he was doing. Even if it got easier with time, the Hale was on Chris’ mind every single day and the feelings were still there though he was a husband, a father.

Talia had secretly informed Chris that Peter would be returning to Beacon Hills because she had figured that he’d want to see the wolf again. She didn’t know of his feelings but knew how close they had been.

“Peter!” Chris called out when he arrived at the tree.

“Christopher!” there was a roar and Peter landed, leaping off the tree. Allison stared in amusement.

Chris caught his breath when he got a proper look at Peter. His hair had grown slightly, but it was still the gorgeous mess it used to be. He hadn’t changed much, but Chris could see that Peter had matured, despite the goofy grin on his face. Peter wasn’t a boy. He was a man. It hurt Chris. Seeing the one he always wanted. The one he couldn’t have.

“And who is this angel, then?” Peter spoke first, beaming at his daughter.

“Allison, my daughter.” Chris smiled at the Hale, “Allison, this is Peter, my best friend.”

The words sounded almost bitter in his mouth. Best friends. That was all they could be, but at least they had that.

“Hello, Allison.” the wolf said, waving at her and Chris removed her from his chest, holding her towards Peter.

“Hi, Peter.” she chuckled at him.

Peter raised an eyebrow and Chris insisted with a nod. The wolf gently took Allison into his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck instantly. He gazed at him, thrilled. Chris was glad that Allison was comfortable with him since every time Gerard was nearby, she’d break down crying. He didn’t blame her and kept her away from the man as much as he could. It was also amazing to see Peter so happy after years of not meeting each other.

They chatted as Peter gave Allison a piggyback and played with her, fooling around. Chris got the idea that Peter was great with kids and then realized that he was already an uncle to a sixteen-year-old girl, a ten-year-old boy as well as a four-year-old girl. He tried to picture what it would be like to raise a child with Peter, but soon let that thought go because it hurt too much.

As they talked, the wolf revealed that he didn’t want to go to law school, since he didn’t want to stay away from the pack for much longer and didn’t need a job for himself. He also wanted to be where Chris was. That piece of information made Chris feel better and even if they couldn’t hang out in their treehouse, there was a chance they could run into each other frequently.

When evening arrived, Chris decided that it was high time to leave. His wife Victoria would be paranoid and there was no cell signal in that area. Allison also seemed to be exhausted after playing. They had stayed there for a good amount of time. Before they said their goodbyes, Chris wrapped his arms around Peter and pulled him into a tight hug. He gently ruffled his hair like he did when they were younger, earning a snicker from the Hale in return. It had been forever since they last hugged and Chris missed it more than he could fathom.

“Hey, sweetie. I need you to help me.” Chris told Allison as they got to the edge of the preserve.

“Yes, Daddy?” she asked, looking at him with wide eyes.

“Can you promise me that you won’t tell anyone about Peter? And if someone asks where we were, will you tell them we were at the park? Can you do that for me?” he requested. Chris had wanted Peter to meet Allison and he knew what could take place if anyone else found out about that.

“I promise. I will do that.” she grinned at him and then frowned, “But why?”

“You’ll understand when you get older, sweetie.” Chris pressed his lips to the side of her head.

“Okay, Daddy. Park.” she yawned, falling asleep on Chris.

2003

Chris crept down the stairs with his flashlight, trying to make the least sound possible. It didn’t take him long to make out Peter and Derek hiding in the dark.

“Pete, Der?” he whispered to them.

He had managed to shake off Gerard and the other hunters before making it to the Nemeton. Peter had brought him there a couple of times and he figured that it would be where Peter and Derek ran off to. Though it would take the others a while to find the Nemeton, Gerard wouldn’t stop at tracking the wolves down, so Chris had to make sure they got away safely. He didn’t want to see what would happen to them otherwise. Peter was usually up to no good and Chris made sure to keep an eye on him as much as he could. It also didn't help that there were three other werewolf packs in Beacon Hills at the time. It could be a jackpot for Gerard.

“Yeah?” Chris heard Peter’s voice answer him, but his tone was more of a question.

“You have to get out now. Gerard- he’s coming.” he informed them and, both Peter and Derek slowly made their way towards Chris.

“Hey.” Derek said, his expression showing slight fear. The boy was about fifteen.

“Hey, Der.” Chris replied with a smile and glanced at Peter. He swore that the older wolf only got more attractive each time he saw him, which really wasn’t much. They met, but not as frequently as they used to and it almost tore Chris into pieces. He missed Peter terribly and when he lay in bed at night, Chris knew that he wanted Peter next to him instead of Victoria, and she was aware of that as well. She didn't know about Peter, but she did know that Chris wasn't exactly in love with her since it was the same with her for Chris.

Peter moved forward to hug him but Chris deflected it by grabbing his arm. He pouted and groaned.

"Peter, seriously, you need to be more careful. Gerard is so much more on alert these days and I- Peter- I don't…" Chris tried to say and faltered because the lump that formed in his throat didn't allow him to speak further.

Peter put his arms around Chris, wrapping him into a tight hug, "Don't worry, Christopher. I'll be fine."

"Don't you 'I'll be fine' me, Peter. I always worry about you. Promise to me that you'll take care." Chris told the younger man, ruffling his hair.

"Yes, I promise." he mumbled, resting his chin on Chris' shoulder.

Chris wished that the hug could go on for longer. However, they had to get moving now and hugs were for a later time. He pulled away from Peter begrudgingly before it got to the point that he couldn’t bring himself to let go of the wolf. It felt like torture.

He led them out from what looked like a root cellar as quickly as he could. There didn’t seem to be anyone else around just yet. Chris glanced at Peter.

“Yeah, I don’t hear anyone. I think we can get back home safely.” Peter said, reading Chris’ mind, “Der, go on. I’ll be right behind you.”

The teenager nodded and hurried off, disappearing among the trees.

Peter gazed at him, “I’ll see you around I guess.”

“Remember your promise?” Chris asked the Hale.

“Yes, Christopher. I promise I’ll take care.” Peter answered with a smirk and then he was gone, leaving Chris all on his own by the Nemeton.

2004

Chris’ heart was heavy in his chest. He had contacted Peter a few days ago and asked to meet him at the treehouse. He and Victoria had decided to leave Beacon Hills and stay away from Gerard. Victoria didn’t want Allison to be exposed to the supernatural and Chris didn’t either. Chris was sure that Gerard would try to snake his way into the little girl’s mind and twist her views like he did with his younger sister Kate. Even if Gerard didn’t take that route, Chris didn’t want Allison to live through a childhood similar to his. He didn’t want his daughter to grow up to hunt those similar to Peter. Those two were the people in Chris’ life that he loved the most and it would kill him if something happened to either one of them.

He climbed the tree and got himself onto the treehouse to see that Peter was sitting there waiting for him.

“Christopher, what’s going on? You asked to meet me.” Peter said, studying him intently.

“Yeah, Peter, I have news.” Chris told him with a sigh.

Peter raised an eyebrow, rising to his feet, “News? Last time you said that you were going to get married. You’re not getting married again are you?”

Chris chuckled softly, shaking head at the wolf, “No, Peter, I’m not getting married again. I’m- we- we’re leaving Beacon Hills.

“Leaving? You’re going? For how long?” Peter inquired, astounded.

Chris shrugged. They weren’t sure whether they’d ever move back and that was what hurt the most. He would likely never see Peter ever again. Though, Chris was ready if that was what it took to not have to watch his daughter hunt down Peter and his family.

The wolf launched onto Chris, taking him into a tight hug. Chris stumbled backward, but regained his footing and wrapped his arms around Peter. His heart shattered when he heard a sniffling sound.

“Hey, Pete…” Chris choked out the words, stroking Peter’s head with one hand and rubbing his back with the other.

“I- I know we haven’t seen each other much lately, but- but you’re my best friend. You- you were always there for me for most of my life.” he mumbled, “I’ll- I’ll miss you, Christopher. What will I do without you?”

“I’ll miss you too, Pete, but that’s how things are. I’m sorry. I just want you to be safe. You’ll do great without me, I’m sure.” Chris said to Peter, ruffling the younger man’s hair.

Peter silently clung to him a little longer and then finally spoke, “Promise me you’d at least let me know you’re alive from time to time?”

“Promise.”

They spent the rest of the day walking through the preserve that had been a home to them. Chris tried to take it all in before he left. The preserve had been his sanctuary and had given him his best friend.

2011

In just one night, Chris’ entire world crashed down upon him as he watched helplessly. It started off when Stiles had implied that Kate had set the Hale House on fire and unfortunately, it all made sense to him. The idea that someone of his blood was the reason for the demise of a family that actually cared about him, made his blood boil. His younger sister was the reason that Peter was so badly injured and in a vegetative comatose state. The sole reason Chris had left Beacon Hills was to make sure that Peter would be safe and if he had remained there, the wolf would be happy and full of life, while the other Hales would still be alive.

It had gotten even worse subsequently when it was revealed that it was in fact Peter who was the alpha. The bloodthirsty alpha committing all the murders in Beacon Hills. The alpha that Chris had returned to Beacon Hills to hunt. His best friend was the alpha. His beloved Peter was the monster that Chris was attempting to kill.

That wasn’t all. Peter had murdered Kate, ripping her throat out with his claws, that too in front of Allison. Then Peter had been set on fire before having his own throat ripped out by Derek, right in front of Chris’ eyes and he just stood there, unable to do anything. Everything he was used to and everyone he had known was different and he assumed that was what pain did to people.

Chris wished he could have done more. He could have intervened. He could have tried to help Peter this time. But he didn’t and so now here he was at an unholy hour, back at the treehouse, sobbing to himself exactly like he did twenty nine years ago, except then there was no treehouse then. Chris could remember how he had cried when he heard about the fire and that was nothing compared to the pain he felt this night. Chris thought about how could have saved Peter from his fate, but this time he had lost Peter completely and his mind wouldn’t stop recalling the six-year-old with the missing teeth, the crazy mischievous teenager that would joke around with him, the man Chris had deeply fallen in love with. It was like a hole in his heart, one that could never be filled.

Peter was gone and Chris didn’t want to believe that. It was Peter. He didn’t just die. He just couldn’t. Chris hated everything, he hated everyone including himself. He didn’t give a fuck anymore. Nothing mattered any longer.

This was exactly what Chris had tried to avoid and all he had done was fuel it. Even if it wasn’t directly, Chris was still to blame. He had failed everyone and he wondered what Peter had been thinking when he saw Chris standing there, doing nothing for him. His best friend, not lending a hand when he was dying. Had Peter given up on Chris as he died? It broke him into pieces.

Chris looked over at where he had carved his name next to Peter’s and he raised an eyebrow. Maybe his vision was blurry from the crying but he could make out a plus sign between their names. He rubbed his eyes and looked again to see just that. Had some kid found their treehouse and done that?

Or had it been Peter?

Had the wolf still had those feelings for him from almost two decades ago? Had Peter still loved Chris despite the rejection, despite Chris getting married to a woman? Had Peter yearned for him when he was away from Beacon Hills? Had Peter carved the sign between their names because it was his little secret since no one would know what it meant and since he thought Chris wouldn’t see it as he wouldn’t come back? Did Peter love Chris as he lay on the preserve floor, seconds away from his death? Chris would never have those answers because he was too late, too idiotic, and foolish.

His heart ached even more. If Peter did love him, he would have died thinking that Chris never felt the same way about him, though in reality, Chris did. He wished he would have just told the wolf the truth and then explained why they couldn’t be together.

Chris glanced at his watch, realizing that it was almost 3 in the morning. Here he was mourning a werewolf while his family mourned his younger sister. He had to get back home. Although his heart was in pain for someone else, Chris had his duties. He ran his hand over the carvings of the tree and drew back his sleeve, exposing the wrist he wore Peter’s gift and kissed it. Chris had worn it every single day of his life after receiving it and that was all he had of the wolf now.

*

Chris wasn’t sure whether his life was getting worse or better. First Kate, then Peter and now Victoria. However, Peter was back and it drove Chris mad. He had mourned for the wolf, cried his eyes out wishing he could have saved the wolf and hating himself for doing nothing. Then Peter had emerged out of nowhere at the warehouse and Chris couldn’t believe his eyes. He felt stupid for crying and he had been right when he thought that Peter didn’t just die. The fact that Peter had returned to the world of the living the exact night Victoria died baffled him. It was as if the universe willed it.

He found himself in the treehouse once again after Allison had fallen asleep. Chris was happy, and yet so furious. Couldn’t have Peter said something? Couldn’t he have left Chris a sign showing that he was alive? Chris wasn’t crying this time. Instead, he had settled on the floor with his head against the wall, eyes closed, rubbing his forehead trying to make sense of all the different emotions churning inside his system.

There were a few creaks accompanied by a shuffling sound and then a voice said, “Christopher, it’s me.”

There was no way Chris didn’t recognize that voice. It made him feel like his heart was about to melt. He opened his eyes to stare right into Peter’s, drowning in the beautiful blue ones that Chris had always had adored. The wolf was sitting in front of him, cross-legged. There was stubble on Peter’s face now and he was as gorgeous as always. Chris wanted to kiss the heck out of the man.

“I fucking hate you.” he mumbled, before springing towards Peter and into his arms, taking him into a bone-crushing hug. The familiar scent felt like home and Chris was warm inside. He melted into Peter as the wolf hugged him, gently rubbing Chris’ back, and whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

Chris had already forgiven the man before the apology and pulled away to look at him again. He couldn’t begin to describe how much he had missed Peter. To Chris, it had been like an eternity until he had seen Peter again. Peter smiled at him and Chris was smiling back naturally, a few tears streaming down his cheeks. He peeked at the carving and Peter cleared his throat.

“About that… It’s probably not the right time to tell you this, but I’m not sixteen anymore, so I’m sure it’s real.” he said, and produced the wolf figurine Chris had given him.

“You loved me?” Chris asked the wolf.

“No, Christopher I love you. Always have and still do.” Peter replied, taking Chris’ face in his hands.

He wasn’t sure if he was hearing wrong. Peter had loved him all along.

“But- but you didn’t…” Chris tried to say.

“I knew you must have a good reason to hide it and just stay friends with me, so I didn’t say anything again. I could still smell it on you though. Talia was the one who told it to me because she could smell it too. Heck at first, I didn’t know and I couldn’t stand myself for falling for my best friend. I was confused why you didn’t want something more between us, but I understood eventually. And now we’re here, Christopher. What have we got to lose?” Peter spoke softly, looking into his eyes and stroking his cheek.

Chris was kissing Peter before he knew it, letting loose of all the emotions that he had been bottling up for years. He had never thought this day would come, and he tightened the hug, not wanting to let go of the wolf. He couldn’t let that happen again. Peter was kissing him back passionately, and Chris got lost in all his feelings. It felt good. The taste of Peter’s lips on his, the wolf’s touch against his skin, the warmth. He pulled back, resting his head against Peter’s neck.

He didn’t know what he had done to deserve this but was glad that there was a chance for Peter and him. Chris could be with the one he had truly loved when he was a boy. It was possible now, though it had seemed impossible back then. They could still have a future. Peter held Chris in his arms as they stayed in the treehouse in silence. They didn’t need to say anything.

When Chris had run off to the preserve twenty nine years ago and sobbed to himself on this very tree, he had never imagined that it would lead him to happiness.

[wedreamedlove]

Xu Mo and Loneliness [Character Study]

Surprise! It's essay time again ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ! Disclaimer: I use CN translations because Elex...

One (of the many) things I love about Xu Mo's character is his juxtapositions [Character Study]. He is one of the loneliest men in the world due to his archetype and nature [Into Your World] but also the most susceptible to loneliness.

Throughout the game, he's dropped hints about his fear of being left behind:

"... But the sensitive artist was also afraid the butterfly would one day grow tired of being beside him, and so he thought about catching the butterfly and putting it in a glass jar. Like this, the butterfly would never be able to leave him." [Drowning in Love SSR - Artist and Butterfly Call]

"... But if I really did encounter the one and only color in my life, then I certainly wouldn't let them go." [Drowning in Love SSR - The Only Color Call]

"... No matter what the truth may be, I'll always be with you. Until the very moment it arrives... I just hope that, at that time, you won't want to push me away." [CH12 - Truth and False Call]

MC: Don't worry, I'll be alright on my own. Xu Mo: But I'm not alright alone. [CH13.4]

But, at the same time, he's accepted the adage that "'tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all":

"The grain, which is also golden, will bring me back the thought of you. And I shall love to listen to the wind in the wheat." [CH9.14]

Just to expand on this for those who are unfamiliar with The Little Prince story, when the Little Prince is going to leave the fox, the fox says that it is going to cry. The Little Prince feels that his taming of the fox has done it no good at all, because now it's hurt, but the fox denies this because now it has the color of the wheat fields.

"Since she was willing to gently embrace all that he was, then why not accept this pain in his heart that was caused by her alone." [Overseas Date]

"Forget it, he'll just be foolish once more with this foolish girl." [True Love Date]

One other aspect of his juxtapositions is how his wants and needs are in conflict and I think people are naturally picking up on this, which is why he's viewed as having a really intense relationship with the MC.

I'm just going to define my words in this context to make things clearer but a "want" is your desire in life, while a "need" is your raison d'etre, essentially your reason for living and your goal in life. It's not necessary for all stories or characters to have this, but they're certainly more captivating with this. (As an aside, Zhou Qiluo has this going for him too while Li Zeyan and Bai Qi do not... and maybe why Bai Qi keeps getting hit with the vanilla and boring label LOL).

So, what does Xu Mo want? To love the MC and, as a byproduct, never be alone again. What does he need? The continuing survival (and evolution) of humankind, even if that means walking a path that will leave people behind him and end with him being alone.

This internal conflict is something we see again and again in the game:

[CH13] He reveals his identity to her as Ares, but lets her go. He even sacrifices his eye and the ability to see her color.

[CH16] They're "enemies" and they draw a clear line between them at the news conference, but he then saves her and returns her home. He sacrifices their experience together in the dream world and his answer to her question about whether or not he'd even offer up the person important to him for his goals.

”Before I met you, I would be annoyed at the pace of the people with me. Everyone has their own destination and a person walking by themselves would be quicker. Mm, this isn't a good custom. But on my path, whenever I turn my head back, I would always find that you had already caught up to my side. This time as well. Perhaps, in this world, you're the only person who can make me unable to resist looking back. Or perhaps you're the only person who can reach my side again and again. So, in the future, I won't let go anymore. On this day, next year, you'll be at my side too.“ [2019 (2nd) Birthday Call]

Now, the entire reason I wrote up this post—LOL. I'm actually half-serious because his [Endless Path Date] is amazing in how they distilled his character to one of his core themes and represented that facet entirely in this AU date.

I'm going to be jumping around chronologically in the date to show how he was in the past, to the present before MC regained her memories, to after she regained her memories.

PAST

Xu Mo: I hope you don't regret the choice you made this day.

MC: ... I admit I hate them, but I don't wish to be the same as them because of this.

MC: I don't want to become a murderous demon.

Xu Mo seemed to be a bit surprised and then, after a few seconds, the crimson in his eyes faded and became a calm purple, scrutinizing me.

Xu Mo: A murderous demon... Do you believe that I am one as well?

His voice carried a smile, but I felt a formless pressure and sense of terror surround me and I shuddered.

MC: You aren't. You saved me.

Although the way was to turn me into a vampire... in a sense, he gave me a "new life".

Xu Mo: Save? It appears that, in your understanding, when vampires are hunting for food they are saving people.

MC: I'm just being factual. Also, the word "hunting"...

The corner of Xu Mo's lips pulled up.

Xu Mo: There's no rush. In the future, you will experience for yourself whether or not the word I used is accurate.

I was stunned and suddenly remembered the thirst towards fresh blood in that hut earlier which had dominated me.

Xu Mo seemed to have no intention of bothering himself with me again and turned around, preparing to leave.

MC: Um... please wait a moment.

He silently looked back, his expression indifferent and cold under the moonlight.

I summoned up my courage and looked straight at Xu Mo.

MC: Can... can you give me your blood?

MC: I heard that this was the only way to become a true vampire; they won't have to drink blood and they won't lose their reasoning, so...

Xu Mo: So I have to answer your request?

Xu Mo interrupted me, as if he heard something laughable.

Xu Mo: Vampires are not gods who never refuse a request. Or is it that all humans are such selfish creatures?

MC: N-not at all! In exchange, I can...

The wind blew through, rustling the leaves of the trees. Xu Mo calmly listened to my words and was silent for a long while before he lightly sighed, but it also seemed like a laugh.

Xu Mo: Alright, I agree.

Under the moonlight, the hand that was held out to me was pale and slender. I took a step forward and also stretched out my hand—

PRESENT

Xu Mo blinked, slowly without hurry, and swept his eyes over in my direction.

He saw me and didn't appear to be surprised at all; instead, it was like he knew I was there all along, witnessing everything.

His smile wasn't anything different from usual and even the way he set down his glass and held out his hand to me was like that day, two years ago.

Xu Mo: [MC], you came.

The color of crimson blurred my vision and the smell of blood was like a wave threatening to engulf me.

I felt like breathing was difficult and my legs were unsteady; I could only lean against the wall.

Xu Mo saw that I didn't move and walked directly over to me. It was as if everything around him had no effect on him and those two crimson eyes reflected only my figure.

He came to me like this, step by step, and the strange thing was... that I actually didn't feel any fear.

He raised a hand to support me and this let me see his eyes clearly. There seemed to be a faint worry in them.

FUTURE

Xu Mo: Do you remember everything?

A gentle voice landed beside my ear and, as I recalled the scenes of that night, I looked at Xu Mo and mumbled.

MC: I promised you that, no matter how long, I would always...

He blinked and those crimson eyes crumbled into purple, a faint smile appearing in them.

Xu Mo: Mm, you said you would be at my side forever.

The reason I transcribed these three scenes is because they're so good at showing his assumed indifference, to how fast he caved into the temptation of not being alone, to how he continues to hold this hope despite MC having "broken their promise", to the future where they get to walk in an endless night together forever.

IT'S SO GOOD. I'm a sucker for immortality concepts and PG nailed this vampire version so well; his ancientness in the past, the longing for companionship, and then the sharing of a life.

Anyway, I was actually going to post this essay after I read his newest Halloween card because, after seeing he was an exiled prince with Snow White themes, my guess was that it was going to have a heavy and explicit theme about loneliness again.

But I got impatient seeing as how I have to wait until the end of the event to redeem him. So, I guess I'm throwing it out there that this is my prediction??? For those who have read that date, you can tell me if I'm hot or cold LOL. I'm going to look like a fool yelling about loneliness themes if that isn't the case this time though.

MIMICRY

Semi-switching gears and bringing back my [Into Your World] post, I just want to add that in addition to being so intensely curious about the MC's world and trying to understand her, I've noticed that MC and Xu Mo share something pretty unique to them that's less obvious with the others.

This is the mimicry that they do to each other.

There's been psychological studies that looked into the social aspects of mimicry (Baaren et al 2009) and mimicry and attraction in romantic relationships (Nicolas Gueguen 2009). In short, mimicking someone appears to promote social harmony, comfort, and trust in the other person; it can also make you more attractive to them LOL.

I really don't think Xu Mo is doing this intentionally and that, instead, this supports his (alienated) scholar archetype, his hobby of people watching, and trying to understand the MC's world. The same goes for MC, she wants to understand his world and a part of that is experiencing things in his way.

The reason I believe this is less obvious (if at all apparent) with the others is because, when I compare Xu Mo's dates to Bai Qi dates, all of Bai Qi’s dates are more like experiencing activities together, which Xu Mo has as well, ex. [Winery Date], [Sunrise Date], [Hot Spring Date], etc.

But Xu Mo has dates where they specifically mimic each other, such as:

[Blossom Date] He covers her eyes, she then covers his eyes.

[Archery Date] Technically, he teaches her but after he gets bull's-eye, she copies the form he taught her and also gets bull's-eye.

[New Year's Eve] He gets taught and mimics the way she makes dumplings.

[Qixi 2018 Mini Story] He and the kids ended up copying the MC's flying fish.

[Rainy Night Date] The flashback about how she folded origami cranes and then taught him and they make strings of them.

They also—and this I swear is unique solely to Xu Mo—mimic each other's words or sentence structures and phrases:

[Blossom Date] Tao Yao poem and how they quoted it back at each other, essentially finishing each other's stanza.

[Endless Path Date] The beginning of the dates shows an inside joke between them where MC tries to ask Xu Mo difficult questions to stump him, because he can see through her. But he guesses the herbs she bought by the smell on her fingers. Later on, she guesses that he's going to a party based on his use of the cologne she made him and which he only uses for parties. She explicitly brings up the beginning and how she can deduce things about him too via scent.

[CH13.15] Xu Mo quotes 1 Corinthians 13:12 at MC and [CH16.12] MC quotes 1 Corinthians 13:2 at him.

[CH16.12] During the conference, MC literally quotes the words he said to her [CH13.17] back at him to go against him.

[Dumbstruck Date] Heck, this whole date was MC repeating words that the original Xu Mo said to her and making Winter!Xu Mo jealous as heck LOL.

Throughout the story, where MC draws her strength from how the other men are as people (Li Zeyan's stability and permanence, Bai Qi’s core of justice, etc.), she seems to draw extensively on the words Xu Mo has said to her, or references to the same body of literature.

EDIT: Forgot to mention, but IMO this is why he reacts the worst out of all the men to MC’s disappearance in Chapter 25+.

[elderbloodlore]

Calanthe was not a racist homicidal tyrant: a useless and bitter rant of someone whose favourite character ever got mercilessly butchered.

WHY ARE YOU WRITING THIS? 

Well, let me give you a little bit of a backstory. I first read the Last Wish and the Sword of Destiny in 2012, when I was 14 years old. I instantly connected with the character of Calanthe, and after her death, it took me nearly a year to be able to pick up the saga itself. Ever since, she remained my favourite fictional character ever. As a little girl in misoginistic Poland, I was so lucky to have her as a role model. Because she fought for herself, she took no shit from anybody, she had love and respect of the people around her, and yet she had such tenderness and kindness about her that many strong woman-trope characters are missing these days, and that is exactly what happened to Calanthe when she was being translated to the screen. In 2015 The Wild Hunt was coming out and there were rumours of Ciri being included, so you can imagine my absolute glee and the hope I was filled with to have some more content with that one woman that meant so much to me growing up. And you can imagine my disappointment when all we got about her were a couple tiny mentions, even though the events of the Wild Hunt happen not even a decade after her death. Then the show by Netflix was announced and, once again, I had super high expectations. I wanted to see the wise, kind, beautiful Queen brought alive. December 2019 rolls in, and my hopes are being steamrolled. So here I am, 22 years old and crying over a fictional character, because one of the best written female characters ever (in my opinion) entered mainstream as a bullish, racist, homicidal tyrant. So let me address the biggest changes the show made to my beloved Calanthe Fiona Riannon, the Lioness of Cintra.

THE LOOKS 

That was obviously the first thing that threw me off. I was quite enthusiastic when the cast was announced, but then as the first promo pictures were released, my enthusiasm was slowly dying down. In the books, Calanthe’s looks are adressed very often: 

 “As before, the queen wore emeralds matching the green of her dress and her eyes. As before, a thin gold crown encircled her ash-gray hair.” Sword of Destiny. 

I tried to convince myself that Jodhi May won’t be a bad Calanthe so hard that I actually made this poor ass EDIT to feed my delusions and cheer myself up. In comparison, HERE is my personal favourite art of Calanthe that I find is the most accurate to the book portrayal. 

Even when the first trailer dropped I was still trying to convince myself that even though she has none of her Elder Blood features or her iconic emerald green, that she wore exclusively in the books, she couldn’t be that bad. Right? Wrong. 

THE DEMEANOR 

This is probably the biggest change. Calanthe was one of the wisest, most gracefully-written characters in the entire saga, and I really hoped to see that on screen. She was quick-witted, calculating, but at the same time caring enough to let her daughter choose her own destiny in the end (even if it was to be with a hedgehog-headed man twice her age). Her smiles were said to always be full of kindness, she was acting very proper and clearly cared about her image. I’m not going to be getting too much into it with my own words, let these examples speak for me:

'Ah, Geralt,' said Calanthe, with a gesture forbidding a servant from refilling her goblet. 'I speak and you remain silent. We're at a feast. We all want to enjoy ourselves. Amuse me. I'm starting to miss your pertinent remarks and perceptive comments. I'd also be pleased to hear a compliment or two, homage or assurance of your obedience. In whichever order you choose.' [...]  'Hochebuz,'  said Calante, looking at Geralt,  'my first battle. Although I fear rousing the indignation and contempt of such a proud witcher, I confess that we were fighting for money. Our enemy was burning villages which paid us levies and we, greedy for our tributes, challenged them on the field. A trivial reason, a trivial battle, a trivial three thousand corpses pecked to pieces by the crows. And look - instead of being ashamed I'm proud as a peacock that songs are sung about me. Even when sung to such awful music' Again she summoned her parody of a smile full of happiness and kindness, and answered the toast raised to her by lifting her own, empty, goblet. Geralt remained silent. The Last Wish.

'Aha,' said Calanthe quietly, clearly pleased. 'And what do you say, Geralt? The girl has taken after her mother. It's even a shame to waste her on that red-haired lout, Crach. The only hope is that the pup might grow into someone with Eist Tuirseach's class. It's the same blood, after all. Are you listening, Geralt? Cintra has to form an alliance with Skellige because the interest of the state demands it. My daughter has to marry the right person. Those are the results you must ensure me.' The Last Wish.

‘Very well then. As queen, I shall convene a council tomorrow. Cintra is not a tyranny. The council will decide whether a dead king's oath is to decide the fate of the successor to the throne. It will decide whether Pavetta and the throne of Cintra are to be given to a stranger, or to act according to the kingdom's interest.'  The Last Wish.

'Pavetta!' Calanthe repeated. 'Answer. Do you choose to leave with this creature?' Pavetta raised her head. 'Yes.' The Force filling the hall echoed her, rumbling hollowly in the arches of the vault. No one, absolutely no one, made the slightest sound. Calanthe very slowly, collapsed into her throne. Her face was completely expressionless. The Last Wish.

Guards, armed with guisarmes and lances, ran in from the entrance. Calanthe, upright and threatening, with an authoritative, abrupt gesture indicated Urcheon to them. Pavetta started to shout, Eist Tuirseach to curse. Everyone jumped up, not quite knowing what to do. ‘Kill him!' shouted the queen. The Last Wish.

CINTRA, RACISM AND MURDERING HER OWN PEOPLE 

In the books, Cintra was often mentioned to be obiding by the rules of the elves: 

‘Dear child,’ said Vesemir gravely, 'don’t let yourself get carried away by your emotions. You were brought up differently, you’ve seen children being brought up in another way. Ciri comes from the south where girls and boys are brought up in the same way, like the elves. She was put on a pony when she was five and when she was eight she was already riding out hunting. She was taught to use a bow, javelin and sword. A bruise is nothing new to Ciri—’ Blood of Elves.

There were many elves and dwarves living peacefully within its borders. Calanthe’s two names - Fiona and Riannon, come from her ancestors that are respectively a quarter and a half elf, and known to be that. Calanthe was the one who taught Ciri that non-humans are not dangerous:

‘I’m not afraid at all!’ Ciri suddenly cried, assuming her little devil face for a moment. ‘And I’m not parrotised! So you’d better watch your step! Nothing can happen to me here. Be sure! I’m not afraid. My grandmamma says that dryads aren’t evil, and my grandmamma is the wisest woman in the world! My grandmamma… My grandmamma says there should be more forests like this one…’ Sword of Destiny.

There was no actual reason nor basis for the showrunners to make her racist and make her murder elves. Having her walk into her own daughter’s birthday party, bathed in elven blood, while she knows that the same blood flows in her own veins, at least partially, was completely unnecessary. Even in the polish version of the show from 2001 Calanthe said: 

RELATIONSHIP WITH GERALT 

This probably hits me the most on personal level, because I feel like Calanthe had a huge impact on Geralt’s growth as a character, and with such a drastic change to their relationship, I’m unsure as to he will now proceed to develop. Calanthe was, in large, one of the first people in the books that treated Geralt as anything more than a mutant. Here are some of my favourite scenes between the two, in comparison with how their relationship was portrayed in the show:

"At times, no, for years at a time, I deluded myself that you might forget. Or that for other reasons you might be prevented from coming. No, I didn't want anything unfortunate to happen to you, but I had to take into consideration the dangerous nature of your profession. It is said that death follows in your footsteps, Geralt of Rivia, but that you never look behind you. Then... when Pavetta... You know already?" "I know," Geralt said, inclining his head. "My sincere condolences..." "No," she interrupted, "it was all long ago. I no longer wear mourning clothes, as you see. I wore them for long enough.” Sword of Destiny.

He slowly pushed the cup on the table so that the clink of silver on malachite would not betray the uncontrollable trembling of his arm. "You don't deny it?" "No." She bent to seize his hand with vigor. "You disappoint me," she said, giggling prettily. "This isn't voluntary," he responded, laughing as well. "How did you guess, Calanthe?" "I did not guess." She did not release his hand. "I said it at random, that's all." They broke out in laughter. Sword of Destiny.

"I will not take it. It is too great a responsibility, one that I refuse to assume. I would not want for this child to speak about you the way... the way I..." "You hate this woman, Geralt?" "My mother? No, Calanthe. I doubt that she was given a choice... or perhaps she had no say? No, she had, you know, enough formulas and elixirs... Choice. There is a sacred and incontestable choice of every woman that must be respected. Emotions are of no importance here. She had the indisputable right to make such a choice. That's what she did. But I think about meeting her, the expression on her face then... it gives me a sort of perverse pleasure, if you understand what I mean." Sword of Destiny.

A rosebush grew next to the gazebo. Geralt plucked a flower, breaking its stem and then knelt, his head bowed, presenting the flower in his hands. "I regret that I did not meet you sooner, white-haired one," she said, accepting the offered rose. "Rise." He rose. "If you change your mind," she went on, sniffing the flower, "if you decide... Return to Cintra. I will wait for you. Your destiny will be waiting for you, as well. Perhaps not advitam aeternam, but for some time, no doubt." "Farewell, Calanthe." "Farewell, witcher. Look after yourself. I... I sometimes feel... in a strange way... that I am seeing you for the last time." "Farewell, my queen." Sword of Destiny.

FALL OF CINTRA AND CALANTHE’S DEATH 

We were robbed of so many epic scenes that truly took away from Calanthe’s millitary accomplishments and showed none of the strength and determination she originally had: 

"The Nilfgaardians dealt the first blow," he began after a moment of silence. "There were thousands. They met with the armies of Cintra in the Marnadal valley. The battle lasted all day: from dawn to dusk. Cintra's troops valiantly resisted before being decimated. The king died, and that's when the queen..." "Calanthe." "Yes. Seeing that her army had succumbed to panic and scattered, she gathered around herself and her standard any who could still fight and formed a line of defense that reached the river, next to the city. All the soldiers who were still able followed." "And Calanthe?" "With a handful of knights, she covered the troops' crossing and defended the rear. They say she fought like a man, plunging into the thick of the battle. She was impaled by pikes when she charged against the Nilfgaardian infantry. She was then evacuated to the city. What's in that flask, Geralt?" "Vodka. Want some?" "Well then, gladly." "Speak. Continue, Dandelion. Tell me everything." "The city wasn't properly defended. There was no headquarters. The defensive walls were empty. The rest of the knights and their families, the princes and the queen, barricaded themselves in the castle. The Nilfgaardians then took the castle after their sorcerers reduced the gate to cinders and burned down the walls. Only the tower, apparently protected by magic, resisted the spells of the Nilfgaardian sorcerers. Even so, the attackers penetrated inside four days later without making camp. The women had killed the children, the boys and girls, and fell upon their own swords or... What's is it, Geralt?" "Continue, Dandelion." "Or... like Calanthe... head first, from the battlement, the very top... It's said that she asked to be... but no-one would agree. So she climbed up to the crenelations and... jumped head first. They say they did horrible things to the corpse afterward. I don't want... What is it?” Sword of Destiny.

I understand that this happened because of limited screen time, probably, but the whole Fall of Cintra had been squeezed into what seemed to be a single day, a crushing defeat for Calanthe’s forces, and probably in some way, punishment for her pride. 

AFTER CALANTHE’S DEATH 

While reading the rest of the saga, these little snipits of people talking about Calanthe, mentioning her, often with respect and reverence, mentioning how her people mourned her and swore revange for her, truly kept me going through. I wished that, at the end, Ciri would find it in herself to return home and liberate it, as back then I had no way to spoil myself the ending. In the books, you can really feel the outrage almost all of Continent feels after the murder of Calanthe: 

[...] Cintra is a symbol. Remember Sodden! If it were not for the massacre of that town and Calanthe's martyrdom, there would not have been such a victory then. The forces were equal — no one counted on our crushing them like that. But our armies threw themselves at their throats like wolves, like rabid dogs, to avenge the Lioness of Cintra. Blood of Elves.

[...] Bear in mind that these men left their homes and families, and fled to Sodden and Brugge, and to Temeria, because they wanted to fight for Cintra, for Calanthe’s blood. They wanted to liberate their country, to drive the invader from Cintra, so that Calanthe’s descendant would regain the throne. Baptism of Fire.

In the show, there is none of that. In fact, people seem to be full of disdain and hatred for her, saying things such as: 

which, in turn, fills me with dread for the upcoming seasons, because I can already feel all the further butchery coming my beloved Queen’s way.

IN CONCLUSION

In all honestly, there is very little the Calanthe from the show has in common with the one from the books, the one I originally fell in love with. Which is not to say that Netflix’s Calanthe is not a great character in her own right, because who doesn’t love a badass sword-wielding Queen, but as a portrayal of the greatest ruler within the Witcher universe, and one of, in my opinion, best written female rules in literature, she falls flat, and that’s what pushed me to write this useless and slightly bitter rant, in hopes to maybe interest more people in the original version of Calanthe and maybe, just maybe, prompt some of you to read the saga or, at the very least, the short stories. 

[g0ldengubler]

~prologue~

A/N: hiiii so i’m posting what i have on positions right now, i just started this one on my wattpad. what i’m planning to do is for nauseous i’ll post one chapter that has already been written every night at 7pm EST. When a chapter is done on wattpad, it’ll be posted on tumblr right after. i’m going back and fourth with posting chapters in general. ok, thank you enjoy :)

Category: fluff?? nothing really big happens it’s just a backstory on clover

CW: none

Word Count: 1529

positions | chapter one

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

"Excuse me, are you SSA Emily Prentiss?"

I walked into the BAU and into the unit chief's office. A woman with blonde hair showed me to her office, her blue eyes smiling at me and was ever so kind. When she led me through the blue office walls and coffee stained desks, I walked into an office that looked very elegant but stern, like a lawyers office. Plaques hanging on the walls, a bookshelf behind her desk filled with prestige spines facing towards me.

Sitting at her desk, was none other than the woman herself, SSA Emily Prentiss. I've looked up to her since I was a little girl. Hell, I looked up to the whole team ever since they saved me from my uncle, who ended up murdering my mother and killing himself. He was a lonely man, that I knew. He lived alone in California, his light brown hair braided down to his butt, smoking on cigarettes and joints. He longed to be a chef, but after having to move back home to Michigan, he wasn't having any luck. Out of self pity, and the fact of his luck going down the drain quicker my the minute, his narcissism made him jealous of my mother and her successes and started killing women that looked similar to her until he was confident enough to get to her.

When he took her he took me, too. I wasn't apart of his original plan, but taking me meant that he could prove to a witness that he was better than my mother. Then, the BAU came barging in just before my uncle was going to pull the trigger.

It was agents Prentiss and Hotchner who tried to talk him out of it. I remember being there, praying to any god out there that they could change his mind and be locked up with the key thrown away, because I needed both of my parents. Together, they were my everything. But sadly, it didn't work. My mother and uncle died together in their abandoned childhood home, and I was left there with blood spatters covering me, and I felt alone.

Prentiss was the one who wrapped me in a blanket and quickly got me out of there. She was by my side when the EMT's were checking on me, and she was there for the ride home, talking to my dad about what happened and to comfort us. She then gave me her card and said to call her for anything, even if it was just girl talk.

Aside from what happened after, this was all from the report that I read years later when I was 16. I wanted to remember what happened because the repressed memories almost drove me insane. Reading it gave me peace, knowing that my uncle was truly a narcissist who just wanted to be noticed for his talent.

I've always been very smart. I was able to do high school electives while doing college classes. After I got all the general classes out of the way quickly, I was able to really focus on what I wanted to do ever since I was a little girl: To become an FBI agent, but not just any FBI agent. I wanted to be apart of the BAU with Agent Prentiss.

I was able to intern for the DOJ after I finished college at 19. I stayed there until today. At 26, the BAU were looking for a new member of the team. I sent in my application right away and I got a letter back immediately for what I thought, at first, to be for an interview. But written by Prentiss herself, she stated that I was the new member. I didn't know if it was because of my achievements or if she remembered me, but my excitement was through the roof.

"Yes," says Emily, looking up from the files she had on her desk, "come in, please!"

I walked in and shut the door behind me. "I'm..not sure if you remember me, but-"

"Of course I remember you, Clover!" She gets up from her desk and walks next to it with open arms. I walked right up to her and gave her the biggest hug. It was very unprofessional, but Emily gave me an equally tighter hug, and the blinds were closed anyways, "I always had my phone on just for you. Even when I had to fake my death or when I started working at Interpol, I made sure your number was in my contacts."

We pulled from the hug and just stood their giggling. I loved how she always made sure I was ok. She never missed a birthday or a Christmas, which what made me look forward to them every year. I regret not calling her for anything, but it was because I understood how busy working at the FBI was. The BAU always had a case they needed to go to and while I know she would've dropped everything and pick up her phone, I didn't want to distract her. The past few years, she hadn't been able to call me on holidays because she ended up becoming section chief.

"Thank you, Emily, for accepting me into the team. I am quite shocked that you didn't even need me to come in for an interview. Not saying I'm not appreciative but...you know." I giggled.

"Nothing to worry about, my dear," she said, "When I saw your application I knew immediately that you were perfect for the team, not just because I know you so well. Even if we never met, I would hire you on the spot. Your achievements are marvelous."

We sat there in quiet for a few moments, then had a nice quick chat before she got up from her chair and walked towards the door. "C'mon," she said as she opened it, "I want you to officially meet the team."

"As you can probably tell, Agents Hotchner and Morgan aren't with us on the team anymore. But I'm sure you'll still get along with everyone."

We walked down to the end of the floor to the conference room, where all the members were inside playing a game of poker. I thought it was very strange, but maybe they just didn't have any paperwork to do today.

"Everyone," said Emily when we walked in, "I would like you to meet Agent Clover Kingsley. She's the newest member of the team and a very good friend of mine. You might remember her name from 12 years ago."

Suddenly, the man with curly hair moved himself over to an empty chair next to him, letting me sit there. "Little Kingsley, of course! Emily always talked about you. I'm not sure if you remember me but-"

Just as he was about to say, I gave my hand out for a shake. He took aback a bit, not in a rude way or anything, that I could tell. "I um...don't shake hands. It's not you, it's just hands are the biggest hotspot for germs. It's actually been proven that it's safer to kiss."

"Oh right," I giggled, "you're Dr.Spencer Reid! I remember you. But is that what you tell all the ladies, pretty boy?"

Spencer took aback to that, making the whole room giggle and smirk. "Sorry, I remember overhearing Agent Morgan call you that when I was getting in the car with Emily to go home."

I felt a little nudge on my right arm and looked over to see a new muscular man sitting next to me. He reached his hand out and shook it, "I'm Luke. Alvez."

I smiled at him as I went down the line. After meeting Luke, I met Dr.Tara Lewis next, then Agent Jauro, or Jj for short, then Matt Simmons, David Rossi, and last but not least, Penelope Garcia. Afterwards, they let me join them in a game. I was beating them non stop, making Spencer (who's from Vegas and the team didn't fail to mention he was banned from majority of the casino's there) question everything.

With Luke's playfulness and Spencer's goofiness throughout the day, I knew right then and there I was going to fit right in. And from that moment on, the three of us became the golden trio.

[captain-emmajones]

Love, Emma (7/7)

(Art by the wonderful @carpedzem​ <33) 

Loosely based on Love, Rosie (2014).

Killian and Emma are best friends and neighbors. They’ve always been – until he leaves for the Navy when his brother dies. When he comes back, nine months later, summer has begun and childhood is ending. Emma can tell something is changed in him, but she doesn’t know what. Until she does. He’s fallen in love with someone else.

And then, suddenly, they’re kissing on her nineteenth birthday. When she asks him to forget their night out, and never talk about it again, Killian thinks she means to tell him she regrets the kiss they exchanged. Except she has no memory of it.

Big thank you to @profdanglaisstuff​ for being a wonderful beta and having my back all through this work! 

Friends to Lovers - Mutual Pining - Angst - Fluff - 7000 words - ao3

Part 1 - MIRRORBALL, Part 2 - AUGUST  , Part 3 - HOAX, Part 4 - PEACE, Part 5 - THIS IS ME TRYING, Part 6 - CARDIGAN

Note: This is it, the great, the terrible last chapter. I hope you guys will like this as much as I tortured myself writing it, making sure it is the perfect ending to this story :’) It’s been a pleasure writing this story, I loved every second of it and yeah...Thank you for sticking with me through this. It’s been really lovely having you as my readers. 

PART 7 - INVISIBLE STRING 

Present Day -- August, Storybrooke, Maine.

That night, Granny’s dinner is fuller than usual. Fuller with people, fuller with life.

It’s an agreeable summer night, the air a cool breeze against Killian and Emma’s bare arms as Mary Margaret and David argue over the color choice of the napkins for their upcoming wedding. Crickets chirp all around them, seeming to mock them.

Their plates of food are now empty, and Ruby expertely piles them up on her left arm as Mary Margaret shoots a death glare at her boyfriend.

“White is simply perfect, David.”

“So you play Snow White once in High School and now it’s your favorite color? That’s ridiculous, Mary Margaret.”

“Is it now? And what kind of color would you go for? Orange?”  

“Well, orange would be a statement for one!”

“Over my dead body, David. It’s white or nothing.”

If Emma weren’t so distracted by the warmth of Killian’s fingers around hers, she would have probably choked on her beer and mumbled “Mary Margaret - 1, David - 0.”

Thankfully for everyone, the palm that curled around hers a few minutes ago metaphorically threw her straight into a pink cloud kind of paradise.

Looking up from their intertwined fingers, Emma is greeted by the very real purple pink clouds in the night sky, behind Killian and Mary Margaret’s back. They are sitting opposite Emma and David, while Ingrid sits in the middle, a small contented smile on her lips, as she eats her onion rings in silence.

Fairy lights hang above their heads. Emma loves fairy lights, she always has.

“Why not settle for another color, mates?” tries Killian in a calm, soothing voice, and Emma is surprised he is talking at all.

He should know better. Grave, stupid mistake it is to get between Mary Margaret, David and their napkins.

“NEVER,” the couple answer as one voice, and Emma watches with a chuckle caught in her throat as Killian backs away, hands in front of his face.

“Wohoho, mates. Calm down. The only people you’re allowed to kill are each other.”

And as Emma swallows another grin, she thinks Killian and she haven’t talked about it, but that’s fine. Emma’s brain doesn’t seem able to come up with words, anyway.

A few hours ago, the walk back to Ingrid’s was achieved in near complete silence, and it was weird -- considering with whom she was walking. Actually, cross that -- it was weird to be walking back to her childhood house with Killian Jones, period.

But Emma was able to find comfort in Killian’s lack of words as well, and god knows how talkative Killian can be, she found comfort in his breathy tone when he handed her the box back and the flush on his cheeks, knowing if she could barely hear anything if not for her own heartbeats, surely he wasn’t pulling this any better than she was.

“Earth to Emma, would you like a desert?”

Emma blinks. Two green eyes are staring at her.

Right. Dinner. Granny’s. Damnit, focus Emma. Ruby’s voice sends a shameful loop down Emma’s belly.

“...Mmm, no, actually. I’m fine, for now.”

Ruby’s raising an eyebrow. Everyone is staring at her. Why are they staring?

“Are you sure, Ems?”

“I am. Why do you ask?”

“...It’s just, it doesn’t sound a lot like you.”

And then Emma’s pretty sure her hair stands on end.

“Really.” And each word is meant to sound more threatening than the last. “I. Am. Fine. Ruby.”

She’s not looking at him, but Emma catches Killian’s small chuckle all the same. It’s hard to ignore how easily her rage melts away, and she hides the beginning of a smile behind a napkin.

“Fine.” And Ruby nearly sounds like she is the one who got attacked. (Perhaps she was. But she deserved it.)

As the waitress disappears in a clatter of heels, Ingrid is tapping a napkin against her mouth, delicately, and Emma knows very well what this means.

“Well, it’s already 10pm. I think I’ll leave you youngsters to it.”

Emma watches as Ingrid folds the napkin in front of her, just like she always does, and gracefully stands up.  

“Goodnight, kids.” Ingrid grins, and everyone replies with a lively “Goodnight, Ingrid!”

A kiss is dropped onto Emma’s forehead, and Emma doesn’t miss the subtle pat on the back Killian receives on Ingrid’s way out. Emma thinks Ingrid’s always liked Killian, but then she stops thinking about it because David and Mary Margaret are coughing, and it is the least natural piece of acting Emma’s had the chance to witness in a while.

They both exchange a sly glance, nod and stand up at their turn, and Emma stares at them -- cheeks burning.

“Yeah, we’ll go, too. It’s getting pretty late, and we flew in very early this morning.”

Traitor, shout Emma’s eyes at Mary Margaret, but the small brunette is smiling with all of her teeth out and doesn’t seem concerned by Emma’s impending murder threat.

“Enjoy your night, guys,” David looks far too delighted. “Byye.”

“Aha, bye guys.”

Away from Granny’s dinner and up Main Street towards Granny’s B&B, the couple vanishes into the night.

And just like that, Emma and Killian are alone under the fairy lights.

Chirp, chirp.

This time, Emma cannot ignore the childish panic that strangles her throat, as his touch begins to burn her skin and her hand slowly slides out of his palm. She looks down at the green plastic table.

What to do now? Jesus, she is not nineteen anymore, she needs to take initiative, and—

“Fancy a walk along the beach, Emma?”asks Killian, and Emma is so thankful for the distraction she nearly knocks the table down as she springs to her feet.

“Excellent idea!” Why do her legs feel so wobbly?

And Killian smirks, and she wonders if he knows just how badly she is afraid, of him, of her, of risking her heart.

“Perfect then, let’s sail away.”

But she wants this to work, she wants them to work. She spent a good part of her life agonizing over this relationship, daydreaming about it, and then cursing it, and it better be as good as she thought it would be.

.

As things turn out, this walk along the beach feels like brutally falling down a rabbit hole. It knocks the wind out of Emma and it is wonderfully terrifying.

The wind blows that night. Salt air dances with Emma’s light dress and Killian’s hair.

Emma’s shoes dangle from her fingers, but she is still shaking like a leaf.

Awful, isn’t it, to finally get all you’ve ever dreamed of?

She knows it’s not entirely hers yet, she knows she still has to dash forward and grab it with her two hands, and not let it go – on any account. (Do you want it?)

It’s terrifying.

She did not reach out to Killian, this past month, although she knew about his letter...and she probably wouldn’t have reached out first, had he not appeared on her porch.

There is still this stupid fear, down her stomach, this stupid fear that he never cared, he never will, and this is all a sick joke.

(She wants it.)

“Should we sit?”

“Aye.”

He complies as she sprawls into the sand she feels moist under her toes, sitting down a few inches from him.

Somehow, staring at him still feels illegal.

When he gets a flask of rum out of his leather jacket, she rolls her eyes, and her bracelet glints under the moonlight. For the first time in ages, it is not a painful sight. She does not twist the little charms.

“Really? Is rum your solution to everything?”

“It’s not rum, Swan. It’s merely water.”

“Is it now?”

“Nah, it’s definitely rum. But it never hurts to have a drink between friends.”

And at that wicked, wicked word, they both stare at one another and gape slightly.

It should be funny. Except it still itches.

Aren’t they friends?

There are stars reflected in his eyes. There is still this ache inside her chest.

Emma is urged by a desire to look down then, but she doesn’t cave in. Instead, her mouth curves into a smile.

“…Friends or other types of acquaintances,” he adds after a while, and Emma’s smile widens.

The flask of rum is handed to her, and she drinks a few mouthfuls that diffuse a sweet heat and courage down her throat. Lord does she need it.  

“Acquaintances, you say, um?”

She licks the small drop of rum that rolls down her lower lip, notices with satisfaction as Killian’s eyes follow the movement of her tongue and widen when he realizes she has caught him red-handed.

“Aye. I believe we’ve been acquainted.” There is a delicious twirl, down in her stomach, that could drown her fears, she knows it, if only she allowed herself to let go.

“Right.”

Idiot. Her cheeks burn. It is ridiculous, they are ridiculous and she doesn’t mind.

Woosh, woosh, the waves giggle.

As Emma inhales deeply, she figures she has to give him back his flask and that this -- whatever the hell this really is -- is probably going to be more difficult than she initially thought.

Her fingers brush against his as his hand closes over the flask -- of course they do -- and Emma couldn’t honestly say who’s to blame.  

“Thanks, Swan.”

Oh, how many scenarios she made up in her mind, about him showing up. They all ended with their lips locked together. What she had a very hard time figuring out was the in-between. The talking. The confession. Because there has to be one, right?

She hears him gulp a few mouthfuls of rum down next to her and she refocuses her gaze on him. He clears his throat.

“So, erm, any plans for the foreseeable future?” he inquires.

The flask is buried in the sand between them.

“I don’t know, to be honest. For now, I think I’ll stay in Storybrooke. It’s my home.”

And then a pause, she glances at him through her eyelashes. A mischievous wave comes crashing at their feet, bites their toes.

“What about you, Killian? Still in Portsmouth?”

She watches him tilt his head next to her as he carefully sieves a handful of sand between his fingers, brows furrowed.

“Actually, I’ve been thinking about moving back to Storybrooke. Joining the Navy again would not be easy, and I’m not sure it’s entirely what I desire. I mostly did it to honour Liam but it’s never been a dream of mine…”

A pause, a breath, for him, Emma has stopped breathing somewhere after “Storybrooke”. And her mouth refuses to shut.

“Plus, there’s the fact that Graham did mention the need for another deputy,” he casually adds, shoots a swift glance at her.

Oh. Breathe, Emma, breathe.

It’s very hard, then, for Emma to swallow the smile that tingles her lips.

“You are?” she asks, curses silently her quivering tone. Clears her throat. Dammit, why did it come out like this?

If he notices it, Killian doesn’t show it. Instead, he goes on, the ghost of a smile over his lips.

“Aye. I don’t think there’s anywhere else for me to be. It is high time I came home.”

Home. The word echoes between them, much like the gentle rustling of the waves.

And Emma nods and she has no idea where to put herself, what to say. She settles for telling the truth.

“That’s great. I could really use you around.” A pause. “I’ve missed you.”

Twinkle, twinkle the stars in the night sky, and the constellations in her heart as her eyes meet his. They put to shame the sea of stars in front of them.

Emma’s heart is bursting out as he slowly glances down at her lips, and then even more slowly looks up, a dangerous grin overtaking his features.

“Aye. I’ve missed you too, Swan. I don’t want to be apart from you anymore.”

Hearing him repeat her words is positively the worst thing that could have happened to her heart rate. That one nearly rips her heart out of her chest and sends it ricocheting on the waves.

She nods, laughs a bit, crinkles her nose mostly to hide how flustered she truly is.

“How…How did this happen?”

And he sighs next to her, a very dramatic sigh that she recognizes as a poor attempt to hide a deeper kind of pain. She watches as he stretches his legs, digs a shape into the sand with his fingers.

“How did you end up marrying Neal Cassidy, you mean? Poor judgement, if I do say so myself.”

The bastard.

She elbows him in the ribs, of course, he deserves it.

And he only chuckles, feigns a moan of pain, and… and grabs the arm she threw at him to bring her closer to him. There are grains of sand stuck to his skin as his hand closes over her fisted palm. As he stares at her, all air has definitely been knocked out of Emma’s lungs.  

His nose gently brushes hers. Little pulses of magic seem to climb up her hand, her arm, to gently tickle her heart.

And she gazes into his eyes, mortified. Swallows hard.

“To be fair, he did hide that letter from you. A shame really, it was truly a pearl of literature.”

His breath tingles Emma’s lips, and it isn’t fair.

She snorts, she tries to at least, because it is hard to do anything when he is this close to her.

“David told you,” she mumbles, rolls her eyes dramatically, blushes furiously.

He isn’t denying the letter. He isn’t denying anything.

“Aye that he did. You can’t trust the guy with a secret, love.”

She doesn’t know what David told him over the phone, but Emma thinks it is safe to assume that it is somewhere near absolutely everything. And it should bother her, it should bother that secret and private part of herself, but Emma’s tired of fighting against herself, and she lets it go. All of it.

Her hand is still in his, twisted against his chest, right above his heart. She doesn’t mind. They could remain like this, forever, for all she minds. But that wouldn’t be very practical, now, would it?

“And it’s not like I didn’t know…” he continues, and Emma’s mouth drops even more, if it is possible. “I think I’ve known from the moment I met you. Haven’t you?”

A nervous chuckle shakes her shoulders.

“What exactly have you always known?”

“You can’t answer my question with another question, Swan. That’s just not how the English language works.”

“Well, if you could drop the metaphors and double entendre, then perhaps, perhaps I…” A breath. There’s no need to hide anymore, although something ludicrous seems about to explode inside her chest. “Y-yes, I think I knew...But I --”

“-- Good, because in that case, there’s no use for me to hold back from doing this…”

And as she opens her mouth to complain about metaphors and double entendre, again, he leans into her, tilts his face and, as Emma’s heart does a weird leaping thing in her chest, delicately presses his lips to hers.

While Emma does think it is definitely very rude of him to interrupt her like that, she cannot bring herself to complain too much.

Neither can she ignore the sudden explosion in her chest, thousands of strawberry bubbles of happiness that taste of childhood and dreams bursting out.

Oh god. She muffles a moan against his mouth, snatches her hand from his grip to tug at his hair, brings him closer to her, as close as humanly possible, presses her mouth harder against his, as hard she can, and she quite literally feels like a house set on fire.

Thump, thump, cries her heart, as their lips dance together, as his hand gets lost in her hair, and no air reaches her lungs and this goddamn flower keeps blooming inside her chest and there isn’t any space between them, and she’s pretty sure she’s combusting into flames, but it’s fine, it’s really fine when his mouth opens and gives her access to his tongue.

It’s a gentle kiss, in spite of the passion. It’s such a gentle kiss, in the way with which his hand tenderly lingers in her curls, as if he were afraid she’d shatter under his touch, or in the way his other arm curls around her waist, holds her tightly, but not too tightly, so as not to break her it seems.

Years of yearning will do that to you, make you afraid of shattering the glittering and fragile object of your affection.

And when they let go, burning forehead against burning forehead, because they really, really need to breathe, Emma doesn’t want to run. In fact, she doesn’t want this to ever end. And she doesn’t know it, but she smiles.

“Then why –” he begins, his lips lightly, delicately brushing against hers as he speaks.

And how dare he be talking! She can barely breathe.

“—why the wedding?” she lazily answers against his lips. “Because I didn’t think you cared…” A pause. “You never told me you did... You didn’t even call, after the k-kiss.”

Damnit, that was harder to spit out than anticipated. And it probably sounded more accusing than she wanted it to, but she forgives herself.

The painful memory allows her to step back a little, to gaze into his blue eyes and discover his cheeks crimson and an awestruck look on his face, as well as a lot of guilt and tenderness.

A sigh. “Of course I didn’t. I was waiting for you to do it. You were bloody engaged, may I remind you.”

Her brows furrow.

“And I did! But you didn’t answer.” Silence. “Tink did.”

She watches his features with weariness. She watches as he frowns. Backs away slightly, to gaze into her eyes, seems to seek the truth. And then, sighs.

“Of bloody course. Tink.” Emma watches as he rolls his eyes dramatically, hisses a few insults between his teeth.

She thinks he is still infuriatingly handsome.

Another nervous laughter begins rattling her body, because this is ridiculous, they are ridiculous, they just had to talk it out and it would have been fine but --

“Seems like our lack of communication isn’t only on us.”

Emma smirks. “Well, it’s mostly on us.”

“Point taken.” And it’s unfair because he smiles a bright smile then and her heart jumps once more.

And he looks down, again, at her lips, and Emma feels frozen only she is burning. She needs to kiss him again, and forever, probably.

“But if you cared--” Why is he talking again? She opens eyes she didn’t know she had shut to dart a murderous gaze on him. He doesn’t see it, the fool, keeps talking instead. “--why did you ask me to forget our kiss?”

That nearly knocks her out. “Our kiss? Which kiss?”

She doesn’t know just how right she is to ask this question.

He raises an eyebrow. His cheeks are flushed and his hair dishevelled, and Emma has to focus to look into his eyes and not stare at his swollen lips.

“You mean to tell me you don’t remember?”

And his eyes do a weird twitching thing. He doesn’t seem alright. And he sounds a little bit as if a part of himself has just died.

“I mean… I sure as hell think I would remember this.” Oh, she totally would.

“Your nineteenth birthday,” he exhales, and if he could raise his eyebrows any harder, they’d get stuck up his hairline, “we kissed on the rooftop right before you fell to the ground.”

Well, she does remember the wicked headache she got that day, but she thought it was caused by the alcohol and…

“No…Yes?” A pause. She frowns. Realization sinks in. Well that would explain a lot, indeed. “We did?”

That would explain his crumpled face as she asked him to forget their night, it would explain why he avoided her all through summer, and why he stayed with Milah, and why she started dating Neal in the first place, and oh -- they are two idiots, aren’t they?

“Aye. And you specifically asked me to forget that night.”

If she keeps frowning her eyebrows will remain stuck forever. She frowns harder.

“But I had no memory of that kiss.”

“Bloody hell.” And Killian lets go of a very dramatic sigh, shakes his head.

Emma’s mouth forms an “O” as she watches Killian glance further away, to the sea, and she begins to understand years of struggle could have been avoided, had they, had they…well, talked about it, it seems.

An angel passes.

“Damnit,” she whispers.

And Emma is surprised to find a chuckle tickling her throat. Why is she laughing? This isn’t funny.

He still isn’t looking at her. Impish waves keep nibbling their toes. She hates how heavy everything suddenly feels.

Emma thinks that all this time he thought-- he thought she didn’t care, but she did, oh she cared, and...

Emma breathes in, fingers pressed to her temples. Shrugs a bit, breathes out and casts an eye on Killian. He doesn’t seem alright. But she knows how to distract him.

“Since I don’t remember, allow me to ask: did you kiss me?”

His blue eyes flash in the dimness as she smirks.

She doesn’t think she has seen him look this offended before.

“I beg your pardon? You bloody kissed me, Emma!”

His high pitch does make her chuckle.

“Don’t give me that offended look. That does sound like something you’d do.”

Oh, the wrath sparkling in his gaze then, it’s a sight for sore eyes, and she cannot stop smiling.

“Nah, you were the one who melted onto my lips and sucked the bloody life out of me, perched on your high heels.”

“They weren’t that high. And, at least I did something about my feelings.”

“Well, you forgot so it was pretty useless in the end, anyway.”

“Hey!”

And her fist punches his chest, and he captures it again, traitor, and time stands still for a moment, as they glance at each other.

Everything still feels very fragile and terrifying. But that’s quite alright.

And then with a swing of his hip, he shifts her under his weight, onto the sand, and her body meets the ground softly.

His face surrounded by dark, tousled hair hides the moon from her sight, but as her breath catches in her chest, she doesn’t mind.

“You were saying?”

“Mmm…”

Emma thinks sand will get stuck in her hair. And it’s going to be a pain to wash it out. But that’s okay.

They’re only twenty-three, murmurs her inner voice, they’re allowed to be young and stupid and messy and –

“Well, I’m glad it didn’t take us another ten years to figure our shit out. Wouldn’t be nearly as sexy.”

“Speak for yourself, Swan.”

“Idiot.”

And without a second thought, or a first, she raises her face to capture his lips, drink his breath, because she is allowed to, and this is right and all she’s ever wanted.

.

Up the beach, down Main street, Killian and Emma walk along the roads of their childhood.

Emma doesn’t know where they are going, but it doesn’t seem to matter, not just yet.

Fear is of course lurking in one deep corner of her mind, but it is easy to ignore it while her hand is safely tucked in his.  

“Where are you staying?” she asks as they shift to stare at one another.

Granny’s green B&B sign flashes behind Killian’s back.

Amusement sparkles in his eyes. “Granny’s.”

Emma remembers New York’s cold street lights, and the snow melting onto her lips, and Killian’s damp hair, and the sad glimmer in his blue eyes and her cold, shaking hand in his.

It was the night she decided to give him up, not knowing, not knowing he cared too.

It was the night she would have burned in hell to hear him invite her into his hotel room.

(Was it worth it, all the pain, in the end?)

“Fancy a last drink, Swan?”

Streetlights dabble gold beams into his blue eyes.

She nods, a little out of breath. Something soft and awful swallows her from inside.

“Yeah.”

And down the road, up the stairs, they go, hands clasped together. Her bracelet jingles up the stairs.

Emma remembers standing on his porch before her eighteenth birthday party, forehead pressed to the door, eyes locked on her phone screen, heart beating fast, fast.

“Come in whenever you want, I’m ready!” And her stomach twisting at his reply.

Things were so easy while she was still convinced that she was in love with him and she would never love anyone else and they had all the time in the world.

She was wrong, but that’s also fine.

(Isn’t pain just pain?)

Click, he’s unlocked the door, and Emma steps forward to gaze inside. Beyond Granny’s questionable decoration choices, everything is clean and proper and Navy and Killian. What a relief.

It is quite late now, and exhaustion burns Emma’s eyes, circles her throat and crudely brings to light her fears and insecurities. She feels bare, exposed, vulnerable under the dark green chandelier.

For a short moment, she fears there will be too much to mend between them, too many scars over their chest for them to offer their hearts again.

“Make yourself at home, Swan.”

The red leather jacket is dropped onto the bed just as he neatly folds his own on a chair by the wall.

And she keeps staring at those four walls, at this cramped room, and she thinks a month ago she was marrying someone else.

She’s still scared. Is she supposed to be scared?

“You okay, love?” he nudges her.

His hand softly grabs her shoulder.

She shrugs. If she is honest with herself, she does feel a little bit overwhelmed. This room is too silent. She can almost hear past echoes of their hearts breaking.

“Yes, I’m just…”

“Reminiscing?”

A smile. “That’s not the word I would have gone for, but yeah.”

His hand hurtles down her arm and slides into hers. His touch still shoots electric trails all over her skin.

“Want to sit down, Swan?” A nod, and he’s tucking her down with him.

When Killian switches on the small outdated TV on the wooden table in front of them, Emma sighs in relief.

And when still no words echo between them, Emma feels his eyes burn the skin of her cheek.

New York again. A cold bench. The snow falling onto his hair. This pain, in her chest, as he utters her name. Milah.

(Pain is just pain.)

“What are you thinking about, Swan?”

She blinks, licks her lips. Breathes in.

Will not look at him.

Augusta airport this time. His back, his image printed in blood over her retinas, this dark shape she cannot forget, forever turned on her.

“The past.”

The pain.

Storybrooke’s town hall. Her weary eyes twitching back and forth from Neal towards the door. Begging Killian to appear. And he doesn’t. (Or he does, but he’s too late.)

“Listen, Emma,” and his fingers have found hers again, and they are soft, and she looks up to discover his eyes even gentler, and his lips spread in a tender smile, “The past is behind us and we cannot change it.”

“But there’s been so much pain…”

She sounds like she is twelve again, she can almost touch Ingrid’s wooden fence under her fingers, can almost feel the tingling fear that a splinter might get stuck in the tender skin, and she can almost smell the yellow irises, and it almost brings her to tears.

“I know. But we can do better now.”

She nods. Can they do better? What if all of this is just a chimera and they’ve both idealized their love and what if … What if none of this is real?

She should sleep. Her eyelids are heavy and her eyes burn.

But then his hand cups her cheek, and its warmth brings her back to reality, tethers her. Her own palm settles above his as she leans into his touch. Closes her eyes, for just one bit.

She is so tired. Morpheus is luring her into his arms.

“As long as I am alive--” Oh, but then he is talking, and his voice is velvet against her skin, and she opens her eyes to stare at him. She’s pretty sure he can hear the thump of her heart. “--you can live with the conviction, Swan, that I will always be by your side.” A pause. “Always.” Another silence, his words sinking into her skin, as his fingers trace butterflies along her neck. A smile. “I’ve always been in love with you. From the moment I met you.”

Oh. Her eyes widen. Thump, thump.

She is swallowed by a gigantic wave of confused feelings. She thinks an earthquake is shattering the windows and shaking the walls. She thinks a tear rolls down her cheek, but she is not crying.

And it’s not like she didn’t know, she knew, but, but also she didn’t, for so long, and this is all very confusing and unexpected but very much expected, and he keeps staring at her and she doesn’t know what to say, for fuck’s sake.

And the only answer she can come up with is her trembling hands caressing his cheeks and then slowly grabbing the lapel of his t-shirt, and then, finally -- the pressure of her lips against his. Tender, at first, and then furious, desperate, hungry.

She wants to tell him, I loved you when you walked away from me, the first time, and the times after that, as well. I loved you although you never looked back at me, and I couldn’t look forward. I loved you when you were avoiding me, and I loved you when I didn’t think I loved you anymore. But mostly, I loved you from the moment I met you.

Instead, she presses her mouth into his, fiercely, for all of those times she wishes she had been brave enough to kiss him and she didn’t.

And Emma forgives them both. Forgives their past mistakes and heartaches.

They will do better. (They want to, and that’s already half of the journey, isn’t it?)

.

A number. Nineteen. Emma’s nineteen tonight. He’s been for a while now. (He feels a hundred years old since Liam left. Feels like he’s been holding his breath for centuries. Only the pain doesn’t flatter.)

They’re on a rooftop. Emma’s pink dress floats in the wind, much like a pirate flag. Her smile, that night, is bright, vivid, infuriatingly confident as she glances down at his lips.

The waves crash against the sand, back and forth, back and forth.

Her body is warm against his chest. Both of his hands hold her waist.

Time stands still, as she stands up on her tip toes and kisses him.

It’s an explosion, then, in his chest. A mercurial bliss.

And this time, he catches her before the fall. He doesn’t let her go. This time, his grip is secure around her waist, his fingers firm around her hips as she stumbles forward and they chuckle together.

This time, she doesn’t forget their kiss.

No.

Instead, she stares deeply into his eyes and she says: “I’ve been meaning to do that for a while, now.”

And he says: “I’ve been waiting for you to say that.”

And if everything is easy, it’s only because it is a dream.

.

A ray of sunshine tickles Killian’s eyelids. His face crinkles, he groans, opens one hesitant eye.

Bloody hell. What a dream. Or a nightmare, he cannot really tell.

There is a weight against his chest, bitterness at the back of his mouth.

He glances down. Emma. She fell asleep in his arms last night while he was slowly rocking her, and they forgot to close the shutters and now Killian will never fall back to sleep again.

His eyes still burn.

He gazes at her face buried in the hollow of his neck, blonde hair across his chest. He smiles.

A hospital room, eight months ago. A blinding, golden light. Her sleepy smile. “Oh, you’re awake?”

He would pinch himself if he had a hand to spare.

Those six months, without her, thinking she didn’t want him, were some of the bleakest of his life.

It was like losing a limb, only he lost two. And he had to keep on learning how to walk without an anchor, how to live without a hand and without hers to hold.

And then, David’s call, one morning.

“They broke up, Killian. Neal found your letter. I think you should do something about that, or I will personally come to murder you in your pitiful apartment, do you hear me?”

Emma snores lightly against his skin. He traces the shape of her jawline with gentle fingers.

He is terrified. Perhaps it is the only way to be, for now.

Perhaps it is good. It means they’re trying. They’re evolving, together, for the first time in ages.

A grunt, her small hand spread across her face, she’s starting to wake up, he can tell.

There is still a lot of sadness in his chest, for the boy who loved a girl and suffered deeply for it. For the boy who lost everything and still managed to lose more through the years, until there wasn’t anything left to lose.

Liam’s smile from his car window. A wave. And then void, nothing.

Killian clenches his jaw.

“Hey,” a small voice groans, “if you keep staring at me while I sleep, it’s going to get creepy.”

A grin.

“Sorry love, couldn’t sleep.”

Emma lifts her chin, green eyes shimmering in this golden morning light, and she tries a sleepy smile.

“Morning, Killian.”

“Morning, Emma.”

“Am I crushing you under my weight?”

“I think I’ll survive, love.”

She still hesitates to kiss him, he sees it in the small start of her head backwards, so he bends forward to kiss her.

It’s a sloppy morning kiss, but he wants all of them.

Last night, they absolutely did not take time to undress. Emma fell asleep like a rock, and he was too afraid he’d wake her up to try and remove his clothes.

But she seems very much awake as her legs curl around his hips, and it is very hard for Killian to ignore the way her dress climbs back up her thighs and gives away the beginning of her red panties.

He can feel his cheeks become hot and red, and suddenly Emma’s smirking at him.

“Like what you see?”

He swallows down.

“It’s quite alright, aye.”

A squeeze of her thighs around his torso, he is trapped, and his heart leaps.

“Alright?” she repeats. “That’s definitely a disappointing answer.”

As for Killian’s heart, it’s practically bursting out in his chest by now. He gulps.

He cannot say he hasn’t thought a lot about it, what it would feel like to go beyond a simple kiss with Emma. How her skin would taste under his tongue.

He may have started to think about it at around age fifteen, when he saw her come back from summer vacation all tan legs out, and he can still hear Liam’s mocking tone “If you open your mouth any wider, little brother, you’re going to swallow flies.”

The thoughts worsened after their kiss. There were some lonely, desperate moments as well during which he imagined tracing the shape of her body, much like his fingers flutter against the side of her leg right now.

His eyes don’t leave hers, scrutinizing her to know if he is allowed to go further.

“We don’t have to, if you don’t want to, Emma,” he whispers.

The wicked smile she shoots him is a sufficient answer. “Oh don’t worry, I want to.”

And then her lips find his again and his fingers are gripping her thigh now, clutching her skin, leaving marks, climbing back up some more and feel the soft skin right under the fabric of her dress.

She moans against his mouth, and it’s a wonderful sound, and suddenly they are both wearing far too many clothes and they have to hurry or they’ll combust into flames.

Emma straddles him just as her nimble fingers pull her dress up and throw it over her head.

“Couldn’t have done it better myself,” he mumbles and it’s very hard to look anywhere else but at her naked body.

But she’s already getting impatient with his t-shirt, and she groans. “Come on Killian, help me. Raise your arms up.”

“Didn’t think you’d become such a morning person, Swan.”

She laughs a bit as his t-shirt hits the floor in its turn in a muffled sound, and she does this thing where she stops to gaze into his eyes and he will die for a lack of oxygen.

He watches as she swallows, ogling him.

“Some things are worth waking up for.”

And then she’s melting into the skin of his neck as her fingers sift through his hair, and Killian ceases completely to think.

.

A month later -- Augusta Airport.

Emma clutches Ingrid’s yellow irises against her chest. Her hold is gentle but her lips form a firm line.  

As she stares at the Arrivals Board in front of her, the beat of her heart is drumming in her ears, and she is pretty certain oxygen is having a very hard time reaching her lungs. 

He’s only been gone a week, mumbles her inner voice, but Emma’s too happy to pay attention to her pride. 

She glances up, and a breath of relief escapes Emma’s throat as the light next to Portsmouth changes color.  

“He’s landed,” she whispers to herself, flowers still pressed to her chest.

She glances down, careful not to damage the beautiful bouquet Ingrid offered last night, over the dinner table. 

“I know how much he loves them,” Ingrid smiled. 

Another look at the clock. He should be here any time now. 

Her heart skips a blissful beat. 

A part of her still cannot believe this is real. That he is coming home, for good, that Emma found them a cute apartment near the beach and they’re going to get everything they’ve ever dreamed of.  

“Are you sure you want to do this...I mean, we could wait, and I could go back to Ingrid’s for a while…”

A butterfly in the dark, a kiss in the night. 

“I’ve never been so sure of anything…” 

Gazing all around her, Emma spots the familiar large window in front of her. It still shows a blurry reflection of her body. Emma frowns. Well, that will never change. One hand reluctantly gives up on the flowers to comb her hair. 

It is now mid September in Storybrooke, Maine, and Emma has to admit she’s missed him.  

It wasn’t the kind of missing him she was far too familiar with only two months ago. It wasn’t a burning ache in her chest. It was just like losing your glasses and finding them again on your bed table, where you left them. It’s a kind of missing she knew to end. And it made a great difference. 

As she remains very still, feet stuck to the ground, she remembers shaking, bouncing up and down on her feet, waiting for him to come back the first time, four years ago. 

Nothing’s really changed. She is still Emma and he is still Killian. Except everything’s changed. 

It feels like another lifetime. Emma smiles down at the flowers in her hands. A very peaceful sunflower blooms in her chest. 

The crowd of people around her brings Emma back to the present. More people gather together, and Emma understands they are all just as eager to see their loved ones as she is.

And she waits, knowing her love is about to arrive. 

Another few minutes go by, and time seems to slow down. She clenches her jaw. Unclenches it. Come on, relax, Emma. 

And then… And then, there he is.

“Killian.” The blissful whisper escapes her throat as a brutal wave of bliss sweeps her off her feet. She doesn’t hold it back. It isn’t scary anymore.

  She’s somehow thankful to notice he hasn’t changed one bit, but it’s only been a week, what was she expecting? A tender hue of blue meets her eyes and smiles in recognition.

“Emma, my love,” he mirrors her happy sigh. 

Her heart beams as they walk towards each other, their pace sure and quick and knowing, and in a few steps he lets go of a thousand suitcases to pick her up from the ground. 

  “Careful, Killian, your flowers,” she complains even as her feet quit the floor.

And she tries to hold the bouquet away from his face, but he doesn’t seem to care and presses a long kiss to her mouth instead.  

She sighs happily into his embrace, wraps her arms around his neck, and her senses are filled by him – his smell, a strong cologne she is only too familiar with, his skin under her fingers, his tousled black hair.

“I missed you,” he exhales against her cheek, and drops another kiss to her cheek. 

She slowly backs away, smiling. “It’s only been a week…” 

He raises an eyebrow that challenges her to lie some more. She chuckles, crinkles her nose, mumbles: “Okay, I might have missed you too…”

He sighs a dramatic sigh, rolls his eyes. 

“Now, you nearly gave me a heart attack, Swan. I was this close from flying back to Portsmouth.”   

Idiot, her inner voice snorts, unimpressed. But her heart isn’t very concerned, and a giggle jolts out of her throat. Even her cheeks give her away, flush furiously, and she hates them for it - come on, it’s been a month now. 

Her hand lingers on his face, tracing the little scar on his cheek.  

“Are you going to take those flowers, or should I keep them for myself?” She attacks in a coy, sharp tone. 

He flutters his eyelashes. The fucker. 

“If the lady insists.” 

A roll of the eye, a bright smile, and Emma’s heart sighs -- defeated. And the flowers carefully slip into his hand. 

He drops another kiss to her lips. “Thank you, love.” 

“Of course, Killian.” 

And then there is this very dramatic moment during which they both stare at his three enormous suitcases and wonder how the hell they are going to make this work. 

“Damnit. Did you have to take your whole life with you?” 

“Well, a blonde lass did ask me to move in with her.” 

Her fist punches his shoulder, playfully. Another sigh echoes all through the airport’s hall. 

“Well, let’s go, I guess.”  

She’s quick to grab the bag he let go of to hold her and seizes two red suitcases. And he watches her, the fucker, flowers in the crook of his arm and the third suitcase secure his hand. He seems infinitely entertained. 

“Don’t you dare laugh in my face, Killian Jones.”

“Well, if it weren’t for the flowers, I could maybe hel-”

“-- NO. You keep the damn flowers! For once Ingrid offered them.” 

And as they are walking down the airport like old times, Emma knows they’ll do better. They already are doing better. 

(Emma thinks pain is just pain, and they should have known sooner, they should have known better but she also thinks that doesn’t matter because surely there is no kind of pain that cannot be absolved by a lot of love.)

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

@yasbio2015 @bubblegum1425 @daenerysmyhsa @dancingnancyy @elizabeethan @farewell-courgette  @beca0912 @stina-g @tenaciouskittynightmare @noensnaringnet @klynn-stormz @sekretny13 @tiganasummertree @vvbooklady1256 @brustudyblog @peggyyswan @thisonesatellite @ohmightydevviepuu @courtorderedcake @snowbellewells @kingofmyheart14 @teamhook @mariakov81​ @folkloreismylullaby​ @officerrogers​

(Might write some missing scenes, and add a few bonuses to this story, so if you’ve got anything in mind you’d like to read, hit me up ;) (actually hit me up for anything and let’s be friends.) 

[anna-justice]

Lost or Found - 12

Summary: As Jay, Hailey, Kim, Adam and Kevin start their junior year in the wake of a tragic summer, the past year of their lives comes back to haunt them. If you enjoyed Pretty Little Liars, this is for you! *UPSTEAD/BURZEK High School AU

...

12 - Need You Now ...

Jay clenched his jaw as he took the man’s hand. He wanted nothing more than to sock him square in the face--a thought that was becoming a pattern--and tell him to get the hell out. But, that was a sure way to get himself thrown out, and he refused to let Hailey wake up alone in this horrible situation. So, he bit his tongue and played nice. “You too, sir. Wish it was under better circumstances.” Jay said, forcing a smile. It was true, he did wish that they had met under better circumstances, for two reasons. One being that her dad wasn’t a sadistic asswhole and two being that he wished he was in a position to beat the shit out of him. 

Eldon nodded, agreeing with the young man standing in front of him, none-the wiser of his bubbling hatred. He wrapped an arm around his wife and thankfully didn’t notice Jay’s not so subtle flinch. 

You could cut the tension in the room with a knife, Jay had once again sat down in the seat adjacent to Hailey’s bed while Anne and Eldon pulled chairs up next to her. Jay’s knee bounced nervously, he was wondering how long it took to buy a sandwich and where Trudy was. He wanted to leave and remove himself from the terrible silence, but the thought of Hailey waking up to face her father without him was as appealing as drinking battery acid. Instead, he sent a quick text to Adam, hoping he would come and share his wit and charm with the group.

Jay: Hailey’s parents are here…

Less than five seconds later, he replied.

Ruzey Ruzek: Are you serious?

Jay: Deadass

Jay: I’m gonna kill him if you don’t come stop me

Ruzey Ruzek: Don’t do that…

Ruzey Ruzek: A hospital is a terrible place to kill someone

Ruzey Ruzek: If you are going to murder him, put a little more effort in. For me?

Jay rolled his eyes, he was thankful for his best friend who was obviously trying to distract him. He also took notice of the fact that yet again, Adam had changed his contact information to something stupid. 

Jay: I hate you

Adam Ruzek: No you don’t

Adam Ruzek: You love me

Jay: Whatever

Adam Ruzek: Love you too bestie ;)

Jay: Stop being a little shit pls

Jay: This is not good

Adam Ruzek: I know

Adam Ruzek: Let me talk to Kim and then I’ll come down there

Jay: Thanks

Adam Ruzek: Ofc

Jay let out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding, relaxing into his chair a bit more. At least with Adam here he wouldn’t have to bear the hostility alone. 

“So. Jay, tell me about yourself.” Eldon said, turning to face him. “Anne made it sound like you and Hailey are very close.” 

Jay leaned forward in his chair, deciding that a faked conversation was better than deafening silence. Plus, he couldn’t risk Hailey’s dad thinking he knew anything, he didn’t want to put her or her mom in harms way. “We are, she’s my best friend.” He said honestly, with a soft smile.

“I hope you have only pure intentions with my daughter…” Eldon threatened, a eyebrow cocked.

Jay fought off the urge to scoff, “The purest.” 

Eldon nodded, feigning relief. “Good.” Jay was convinced he was only speaking to keep up appearances. “You play any sports son?” 

“Baseball.” Jay said courtly, his own father wouldn’t own up to him being his son, he didn’t need anyone calling him that, let alone an abusive arse. 

“Hailey’soldest brother went to college on a baseball scholarship!” Anne said, piping in. Jay gave her a big smile, happy to transfer the conversation to her. 

“Really? Where?” Jay asked, genuinely interested.

Anne beamed,“Indiana State.” 

“Wow, you must be proud.” Jay said.

“We are.” Eldon cut in, a little too harsh for Jay’s liking. 

Just like that the almost friendly conversation was over and the silence returned, Jay was about to text Adam to ask him where he was when Trudy came bounding into the room holding a pizza box. Her jaw dropped and Jay stood immediately. Her eyes met his and then focused back on the couple in front of her. “What the hell are you doing here?”

…

Kevin sat in the locker room with Matt Casey and Connor Rhodes after their saturday morning practice. He hated that he couldn’t be with his friends at the hospital, but football season stopped for no man and he was counting on impressing college scouts a year early.

“You coming to the party tonight?” Connor askes. Kevin shakes his head and Connor rolls his eyes. “Of course you aren’t, you haven’t been to any in months. Matt?”

Matt shakes his head as well. “Can’t, I have a date with Sylvie.” 

Before Connor can respond, Kevin claps his teammate and friend on the back. “Man, you’ve been crushing on her for like a year now.” He teases and Matt smiles big. “Congrats.”

“Thanks.” Matt says, “I’m really excited, really nervous and really worried that I’m going to screw this up.” 

Kevin is taken aback by the blondes sudden outburst of transparency, Matt wasn’t usually one for sharing his feelings. Anxiety must be his truth serum. “Where are you taking her?” 

“Molly’s, you know it? I think it’s perfect, not too fancy but enough to make a good impression. Plus, the owner works with Wallace.” Matt explained and Kevin knew exactly what place Matt was talking about. He had gone there for Kim’s birthday last year with the rest of their friends. 

Kevin picked up his bag and waved goodbye to Connor who was heading out. “Sounds perfect man, she’ll love it.”

“Thanks.” Matt said, he grabbed his bag and followed Kevin out of the locker room. “I heard about Kim and Hailey, how are they doing?”

Kevin sighed, “Last I heard, Hailey hadn’t woken up yet and Kim was doing good, no hearing loss like they had expected.”

“Damn, that’s great about Kim, but Hailey’s not out of the woods yet?” Matt asked.

Kevin shrugged, “Not that I know of.” There was a hint of sadness to his voice unrelated to his friends current state. The balance in the group was off and Kevin was taking the brunt of it. When Erin was alive, there were six of them. He always had someone to pair off with whether it was Adam, Kim or Hailey. Now there were five and as happy as he was for his friends, it was hard being the fifth wheel. 

He and Kim had been friends for years, that’s how he was brought into the group, it just happened that he knew Adam and Jay and clicked with them well. He was a little jealous if he was being honest, not only did he not always have the time to be totally  invested like the rest of them, but any time he did he felt like he was being held at an arms length. Kevin wanted to have a person, like Hailey was to Jay (anyone who wasn’t blind could see it, and even then they probably knew) or Kim was to Adam. He had been interested in Nadia at first, but her obvious feelings for Jay caused his to fade fast. Besides it wouldn’t have mattered anyway, Erin got rid of her at the first sign of weakness. 

Kevin bid goodbye to Matt and made his way to his old jeep, still wrapped up in his own thoughts. He felt guilty placing blame on a dead girl, but he couldn’t help but think that all of this was Erin’s fault. He wasn’t usually the one to displace emotion, he grew up in a household where they were almost too out in the open. However, his hatred for Erin--or the dramatics that surrounded her for that matter--was increasing by the day. He had no idea how she got herself in the situation she was in and he sure a hell didn’t understand how she dragged the rest or them and their families into it.

When he got home he found Vinessa playing in the family room and his mom in the kitchen. He said hello to his mother and told her about practice before sitting down to play with Vinessa. She had a barbie in her hand, and Kevin knew for a fact that she didn’t have any barbies. Taking a closer look over her shoulder, Kevin realized that it was no normal doll. It looked exactly like Erin.

…

Jay dropped his gaze to his phone and shot Adam a quick text.

Jay: Abort abort

Jay: Trudy is here

Eldon slowly stands and gives his sister-in-law a fake smile. “Checking on my only daughter, since you were so forth coming on her condition when you called.”

Trudy set the pizza down on the small table near the door and took a step toward him. “You are not welcome here. You need to leave.” 

Jay looked back and forth between them, trying to decipher where this was going. “What are you going to do Trudy? Call security? I haven’t done anything…”

“Like hell…” Jay said under his breath, Eldon’s head whipped around and Jay realized that his thought that slipped had not been as quiet as he hoped. 

Eldon was seething, Jay was convinced that he had literal steam coming out of his ears. “What did you say?” He took a step towards Jay and Anne reached out to grab his arm.

“Eldon--”

He ripped his arm from her grip, “Don’t touch me.” Anne backed away, much to Jay and Trudy’s approval. “You have no right to speak to me that way.”

Jay took a moment to consider her next move, he had already gotten himself into to some deep shit so he might as well go full send. “You have no right to smack around your wife or your daughter.” The last part came out more spat than in sentence form and Eldon clenched his fists.

The way he saw it, he had two choices: lay the kid in front of him out and high tail it out of there, or, play dumb and make him look like a idiot. He went with the latter. “I don’t know what your talking about.”

Jay scoffed, glancing at Anne who becoming one with the wall. He felt a wave of guilt wash over him, there was no doubt that he had put the woman in danger due to his anger getting the best of him. “Sure, of course you don’t. You don’t anything about the injury that damaged Hailey’s body so bad that she needed a pacemaker?” He was almost yelling and a look of shock crossed Eldon’s face. He guessed that he thought no one knew. 

“I don’t have to stay here and listen to this.” Eldon grumbled, turning to face his wife.

Jay stood his ground, determined to have the last word. “Leave.” 

Eldon shot him a glare like he had never seen before and stormed out of the room. Jay let out a sigh of relief along with Trudy, who had jumped out of the doorway to make room for the brooding man. Anne began to gather her things, grabbing her purse and pressing a chaste kiss to her daughters forehead. Jay had forgotten Hailey was still there in the midst of all the craziness. Anne reached the threshold before Trudy spoke up. “You don’t have to leave with him.” Anne gave her a teary shrug and disappeared down the hallway. 

Trudy collapsed into one of the chairs they had abandoned so quickly. “I’m sorry.” Jay said softly, his guilt eating him up.

Trudy rann her hands down her face, “You didn’t do anything wrong Jay, you did what you thought was best.” Jay shrugged, her approval doing very little to calm the pit in his stomach. “But Hailey can never know they were here.” 

Jay nods, “Yeah okay.” He took a seat next to Trudy, placing his hand over Hailey’s. He wished he could erase the past few hours, and he wished Hailey’s beautiful blue eyes would open do the pressure on his chest would lift. He was ready for the nightmare of waiting to be over. 

Hailey felt like she had been hit by a ton of bricks when she woke up, she opened her eyes and quickly shut them, groaning at the bright lights. 

Jay shot forward in his seat, “Hailey?” He gripped her hand a little harder and pulled his chair closer to the bed. 

She forced herself to open her eyes again, squinting. She recognized his voice and smiled softly. “Hey.” She croaked out, her throat dry from being asleep for so long. Hailey looked around the room and slightly nudged her head towards the pitcher of water beside her bed. Jay got the message and jumped up, getting her a glass. She gulped it down quickly, feeling a bit more like herself. Trudy announced that she was going to find a doctor, giving the two of them the room. 

“You scared me.” Jay said honestly, he had grown another set of balls since that morning. “How are you feeling?”

Hailey attempted to shrug, but it came out more of an awkward shake. “Okay, I guess.” 

Jay nodded, taking the next few moments to remind her what happened and explain their story. Thankfully Hailey remembered everything, right up to hearing his voice before she passed out. 

“How long was I out?” Hailey asked.

Jay sighed,“Since you got here last night, I’ll let the doctor explain everything.” 

“Everything?” Hailey asked, panicking a bit. She didn’t know the extent of her injuries and she had been in this position once before. It wasn’t fun. 

“Hey, hey.” Jay said, brushing a piece of tangled blonde hair behind her ear. “It’s gonna be okay, you’re going to be okay.” 

Hailey nodded, blinking back tears and deciding to change the subject. “How long have you been here?”

Jay grinned sheepishly, “Six this morning…” 

Hailey gasped, “When did you leave last night?”

“One.” Hailey was about to chew him out, but he beat her to it. “I know exactly what you are going to say and don’t you dare. I wanted to be here, I couldn’t have been anywhere else. I was going crazy at home when I was there.” 

Hailey blushed at his words, she hated that she was reacting to him this way because of their obvious situation, but she couldn't help it. The thought of him sitting in her hospital room for hours on end made her heart swell, as twisted as it was. 

“Let’s see what’s on TV…” Jay coughed, clicking the button on the remote. 

Hailey nodded, glancing past him. “Is that pizza?” 

Jay laughed and got up to get the box. He knew she probably wasn’t supposed to eat, but after his confession he would give her any distraction she wanted. 

Hailey turned her head to face the TV that was currently playing the local news. It was a press conference, the man speaking looked familiar and he was wearing a crisp uniform that she recognized. She had seen her uncle in it before. She read the heading on the bottom of the screen. 

Benjamin Severide - Office of Fire Investigation

Fire that potentially claimed the life of local teen Erin Lindsay has officially been ruled an arson.

Hailey’s eyes widened at the name. Severide. That was all the confirmation that Hailey needed, she knew she was right. Kelly’s dad worked in the very department that was controlling the investigation, if he was a part of it, they could make it go away. “Jay, look.” Jay glanced at the screen and by the look on his face, Hailey knew they were thinking the same thing. Someway, somehow, Kelly Severide was at the middle of all of it, and Hailey was going to find out exactly how.

[bandaged-writer]

gasoline 03 || dazai

➤ Pairing: Mafia! Dazai x Ability User! Reader

➤ Genre: action, fluff, angst, smut, gore, violence

➤ Warnings: mentions of blood

➤ Summary: It wasn’t every day that someone dared to attack the mafia’s men, it wasn’t every day that a stranger joined the organization and it certainly wasn’t usual for Mori to get an innocent citizen killed.

➤ Word count: 4k

➤ Note: Enjoy reading + feedback is very much appreciated!

➤ previous || next

Pitch black heels clacked against the concrete at a steady pace while the breeze was gently playing with the hem of the equally dark dress you wore. It felt like the wind was greeting you after you had holed yourself up in the new apartment Mori had provided. How had he phrased it? Ah, right. Since someone was out for your life and you were a member of the mafia, it was their duty to be able to keep an eye on you. You had seen no lie in the boss’s eyes, no matter how deep your eyes bored into his - he was honest about this. 

Three days had passed since Yukino’s death, three days had passed since Mori had tended to your wound, three days had passed since your life had taken a brutal turn. 

The people passing you seemed to have no face, although you knew that all of them carried a name, a birthday and a very individual voice. They had become faceless and the words they spoke were silent, never reached your ears. Instead, the dull sound of your shoes hitting the street filled every fibre of your being along with the fear of attending your friend’s funeral and meeting her parents for possibly the last time. 

Your hands were cupped right above your stomach as your feet carried you down the street you were so familiar with, the street in which you used to live in. From the corner of your eyes, you could see your neighbors gazing out of the window, cooking or trying to feed their children. Oh, how lucky they were to have a healthy, functioning haven which would protect them from every storm. Oh, how nice it had to be not to be transparent to the world. Oh, how that luxury slipped through your fingers like water.

Suddenly, your feet stopped in front of your former apartment. Raising your gaze, you felt pain itself tug on your heartstrings and wanting to pull them apart. Breathing physically hurt as the plain white facade of the house stared right back at you, still filled with furniture and plants as if no one had died in there, as if it didn’t soak up Yukino’s blood. Your heartrate sped up against your will, but you remained calm on the outside like a doll.  

“We’re finally living together!,” a grin adorned Yukino’s small face, her dark eyes filled with nothing but the purity of happiness and a hint of exhaustion. Various colors of paint stained her cheek and clothes, hands a bit calloused from putting up wardrobes and shelves. You chuckled in response and breathed in the fresh paint. It was an unpleasant smell, but it’d soon become the scent of home. “You’re always too excited about the smalles of things,” you flicked Yukino’s forehead gently like she was a child. Pouting, she rubbed her forehead, brushed your comment off and fished her phone out of the back pocket of her now more than colorful jeans.

“Let’s take a picture! It’s our first memory in here and will remain forever.” 

You stood next to Yukino who wrapped an arm around her shoulder, her grin never fading. The corners of your mouth tugged themselves upwards into a gentle, warm smile as Yukino snapped the picture with her phone.

 “Say cheese, [Name]"!

 You tugged some of your hair behind your ear, exhaled slowly and turned your back to the place you once called home. It was too painful to visit the past, to visit the place of a happy memory when you were drowning in an ocean of thoughts, regrets and guilt. “The place which holds our first memory has become the place which now carries our last memory,” you spoke to no one in particular, the wind washed your words of sadness away as you turned your back toward the building you had once loved so much.

Out of the blue, dark dots decorated the concrete and as you stretched out your palm, you felt that it was starting to rain.  

It’d pour soon, you thought. 

Relatives had gathered around the tombstone which had become Yukino’s permanent bed, flowers of all colors glowed among the dark garments on everyones’ bodies, among the tears being spilled, among the dreary clouds which seemed to mourn as well. She had always liked bright colors, you remembered. 

“[Name]..dear..,” it was Yukino’s mother who first spotted you isolated from the crowd. She didn’t seem to mind the mud dirtying the fancy black of her shoes as she came running to you, her slender arms wrapping you into a hug and her chin finding home on your shoulder. “I’m so sorry you had to witness this,” the woman’s voice was shaking, became more fragile than fine china the more words fell from her red-painted lips. It took you a moment to find the strength in your arms to return the hug and once your arms were wrapped around Yukino’s mom, she broke into tears. 

“Why would anyone take Yukino’s life? She couldn’t even harm a fly,” she sobbed and ruined her makeup she spent quite a while on - possibly to shorten the time she would have to be at the funeral. It was understandable and you couldn’t blame Yukino’s mother. Who wanted to attend their child’s funeral? “I know,” was all you could say as the mother used you as a rock to steady herself.

“How are you holding up?,” you recognized the voice and sent Yukino’s father a faux smile which never filled the emptiness of your eyes. His strong arms gently pulled his wife away from you and she immediately wiped her eyes, leaning her weight against her husband’s body. “I’m alright,” you lied through white teeth but the more you’d say it, the more you could convince yourself that you indeed were okay. Father didn’t seem to believe you, but he never dug deeper than that. Maybe he understood your way of dealing with this tragedy, maybe he didn’t even want to know.  

“I hope the police will catch the murderer. Yukino deserves justice,” mother had regained some of her composure, but her nose was red from all the sniffing, eyes a bit bloodshot from all the crying she had to go through. You couldn’t sense any hatred in her - she was either too broken to hate or she was really that kind. Oh, how badly you wanted to tell her that the police would be no match for the masked murderer, that they’d end up drowning in their own blood much like her daughter. However, there was one thing you could guarantee the shattered parents:

“She will get justice. I’ll make sure of it.” 

Small hands found home on your nearly bare shoulders, a sad smile finding its way on the lips of Yukino’s mother. “You’re a strong one, aren’t you?,” she brushed drenched strands of your hair away from your face and cupped your cold cheek - her touch was warm and welcoming as always. A woman who was the embodiment of love and forgiveness. “You’re always more than welcome,” Yukino’s mother offered you to stay at their place, to become a temporary home, but did you deserve it after letting their daughter die in your arms?  

You had already lost your home and it was buried two meters under.

“Thank you. But it won’t be necessary,” you removed the hand from your cheek and bid your farewell to the parents. You had no right to console them after what had happened three days ago.  

And so, you had sat down on a bench not too far away from Yukino’s colorful grave with the rain pouring down on you. Hour after hour passed, guests left one by one after giving the parents a comforting hug and words of encouragement they probably couldn’t commit to themselves, yet. Why did people try to cheer up others when they themselves were in so much pain that they couldn’t believe their own words? Maybe it was the same as you telling Yukino’s parents that you were okay when in reality, you were broken beyond repair. 

Eventually, the graveyard was empty and your only company had become the rain. Dull eyes stared at the grave like they were waiting to wake up from a nightmare, but one couldn’t wake up from reality. Not when you knew that the rain soaking you was very much real, when the wind blowing by froze you to your bones, when that hole in your heart physically hurt you to the point your lungs hurt with each inhale. 

At once, the rain seemed to avoid you. Looking up, you saw Dazai standing next to you with an umbrella in his hand which shielded the both of you from the sky’s endless tears. For a moment, the brunette said nothing while his dull eyes were fixed on the grave which you were visiting with distance - like it could burn you if you got too close. 

“She was your friend, wasn’t she?,” Dazai suddenly spoke up, but the low timbre of his voice prevented you from feeling startled. In a dark corner of his heart, he felt sorry for you losing your best friend. He remembered the determined glimmer in your eyes when you had stood in front of Mori and burned whatever piece of information about your past the boss had in his hands. But now, you seemed like a shell of who you used to be, the light in your eyes burned out and what was left was someone who became transparent to the world.

“The cause of death was a cut to her jugular,” your gaze fell back to the grave in front of you as you recalled the memory bit by bit without being asked to. It felt like you were running on gasoline like a machine. “That night, I tried to cauterize it to win some time, but the cut was too deep. Yukino died in my arms before her murderer came for my life, as well,” everything was monotonous. Dazai understood why you had been drenched in blood when he found you at the pier, but now the question was how he was supposed to respond.

Blood stained his own bandaged hands, the lives of countless of people went on his account. He himself had committed more crimes than he could count. 

Maybe, Dazai shouldn’t say anything at all. 

“What do you plan on doing now?,” it nearly sounded like Dazai was offering you a way out of the mafia, to go live your life and get yourself back together or maybe he just wanted to know what you’d do now that you could use the mafia’s influence and resources. You’d probably never find out what his intention was. Briefly, your eyes looked up at the grey sky, a few rain drops found their way on your cheeks as the wind blew from a different direction.  

“I promised to avenge her. Until then, I can’t afford to die,” suddenly, it stopped raining and the sun slowly peeked through the thick clouds, dipping your form in a false halo as you put on the mask of a smiling fool. It tightly stuck to your skin as it melted into your face, the smile was a bit too angelic, too pure to be real and Dazai saw that the mask you wore threatened to become one with you.

“I see,” he turned his back to you and looked at you over his shoulder, catching your gaze. “We’ve got some things to talk about. Come.”

Sitting in the corner of a small restaurant which mainly sold crabs, sake and ramen, you rubbed your hair dry with a towel the owner’s wife had kindly gotten you after being outraged about your soaked form. You looked at your reflection in the window, trying to make your damp hair look as acceptable as possible when Dazai chirped up:“You know you’re already a sight for sore eyes, right?” This guy would never give up his attempts to woo you, would he? A huff left your lips and your fingers reached for the small menu card which listed more dishes than expected - a pleasant surprise. “Thanks for your unnecessary input.” 

“Ah, your tongue is as sharp as always, belladonna!,” the brunette threw his head back and covered his eyes with his right hand, the other one placed on his heart as the man let another rejection of yours sink in. Silently, you wondered how a dumbass of Dazai’s caliber could make it into the mafia and managed to survive that lifestyle. The more you wondered, the more you could feel a headache approaching and stopped. Gazing over the edge of the menu, you hid your pout behind the sheet of paper. “Quit acting like you’re hurt and tell me if anything on this menu is good.”  

“Everything here is good,” Dazai looked at you with doe-like eyes, a sense of innocence filled them and he nearly looked boyish. Skillyfully taking the menu card from your fingers, he pointed at the bowl of ramen, saying that you’d probably like it best. “How do you know I like ramen?,” it was a bit creepy, considering you had never shared a meal with the brunette and didn’t even know of his existence until three days prior. Dazai leaned back in his seat, a small shrug of his shoulders quickly followed. “When I followed you home, I could smell your roommate cooking ramen and people usually cook dishes their roommate could like. Especially after having come home after spending a year abroad.”  

How badly you wanted to pin this on beginner’s luck or a lucky guess of his, but Dazai’s reasoning was too accurate to be deemed as mere luck. What he had let you see was probably only a tiny bit of his wits and you weren’t sure if you were ready to see more of it. 

Your train of thought was interrupted by the waitress coming up to your table and you couldn’t find it in you to be surprised when Dazai was flirting with her. “Your hands are as tender as ever,” Dazai mused as he traced his finger along the waitress’s pale knuckles. A blush quickly rose to her cheeks and you could tell that these two were at least acquainted up to some sort of level. “Oh, quit it. Not here,” the woman giggled and bashfully pulled her hand away from the brunette’s grasp as she took his order: crab soup. She was about to leave when you caught her attention by clearing your throat and smiling at her - she was beyond unpleased. 

“Excuse me, but you forgot my order, miss,” you spoke a bit too sweetly and blinked a few times too many. The nerve this woman had. “Right, of course..”

 In the end, you could see why Dazai flirted with the woman. He got a discount and a bigger bowl than you. 

“I can’t understand how someone can be so smitten with you,” you spoke after gulping down a fair amount of your noodles and slightly burning your tongue in the process. The dish was surprisingly delicious, neither too spicy nor too bland and tickled your tongue just right. If only it wasn’t piping hot and burned your esophagus. Well, that went on you for being too greedy. “Are my ears deceiving me or are you jealous?,” Dazai took a bite of his crab, a pleased look on his face as he tasted the tender meat of the creature. Not having had his favorite food in a while made Dazai appreciate the dish more than usual. “Not in this lifetime,” you warningly point your chopsticks at the brunette with narrowed eyes and your lips forming a straight line. You’d rather die than develop a thing for Dazai who was a scaringly smart dumbass. 

From that point on, the conversation died down which you were thankful for. You could finally enjoy your meal in peace without worrying about what kind of words would assault your poor ears. The noodlesoup warmed you up from within your very core and made you feel less dead than before. In the meantime, Dazai occasionally stole glances at you, committed every reaction of yours to his memory and analyzed you from head to toe. 

You were kind to others and could love deeply - the sudden change you went through after Yukino’s death was solid evidence of that. However, beside those positive traits, he could sense the thick cloud of sadness and loneliness surrounding you like a hug and Dazai saw himself in you for a second.  

You just finished your bowl of ramen relaxed into your seat when Dazai was the one to start a conversation, one which you would rather avoid, but you know it had to happen sooner or later. “Have you seen the ice user? Any detail is important.” Your cheek rested on your right palm while your left index finger traced the rim of the glass of water you had ordered. The glass squeaked quietly once in a while. “It was a woman. The body was delicate and about my height, but that’s all I could see. She wore a mask and a long robe of some sorts.” Dazai cupped his chin in thought and nodded to himself, his hair went with the soft motion. “Any anomalies?” You told him about how Yukino’s body nearly froze yours, how the temperatures dropped and how the woman could manipulate ice to create weapons and even freeze rivers. “The description is identical to our information. It’s a good thing you fought her in combat. Then we have at least an idea of her ability.”

The ringtone of a phone interrupted the small exchange of information and made your heart skip a beat. Dazai brought his phone to his ear and you could see the brunette’s face fall as he realized that Mori was on the other end of the line. “How’s your date with [Name] going?,” the mafia boss seemed to be in a good mood if his cheery tone was anything to go by, but Dazai wouldn’t bet money on it. Seeing the chance to tease you and get another reaction out of you, he went along with Mori’s words. “Why, my date with [Name] is going well!,” the rest of the phone call was spent by Dazai only saying okay or yes - much like when a mother phoned her child, bombarded them with questions and the kid just wanted the conversation to end as soon as possible.

“This is not a date. And you won’t ever take me on one, either,” you crossed your arms over your chest while Dazai hung up on his boss. You were familiar with guys like Dazai, guys who were popular with the ladies, got what they wanted and then vanished the morning after. The story with the waitress wasn’t much different, either. He flirted with her, got his discount and never took it any further despite getting the poor woman’s hopes up. “Will you, belladonna, at least let me try to win your lovely heart?”  

You had to admit that Dazai was handsome, even quite charming. But you knew where this would get you if you gave in. “Dazai, please, save the both of us the heartbreak.” At that, he raised his eyebrows in curiosity, eyes sparked up with something you would call being challenged, maybe even pleasantly surprised. “Are you implying that I could fall for you and vice versa?” You shrugged lightly and let your eyes fall on Dazai’s face and tilted your head to the side, smirking. “Over my dead body.” 

The carpet drowned out the clacking of your heels and you noted that the hole you had burned into the fabric was gone. With the sun setting, the light painted the mafia boss’s office in an orange hue and let the river outside seem warm and welcoming for a quick dip. It was a picture perfect.

“I will only remain here until the person who killed Yukino is dead,” you sat down in front of Mori’s desk, Dazai sat next to you with legs crossed and his ears following the conversation attentively. He acted as a witness to whatever compromise you and the boss would agree on. “Until then, you’re going to keep my original job secure and once this is over, you’ll pretend like I’ve never been part of the mafia and destroy every bit of documented information you have about me.” 

Mori was impressed by your negotiation skills, figuring that business school taught you that much. Looked like your grades were neither a disappointment nor a lie. “I’ll agree with this if you agree to my conditions,” Mori smiled and rested his chin on the back of his hand. He definitely had no problem with the things you demanded from him, they sounded fair and he doubted you would ever leak the way the mafia operated - they could take care of you faster than you could blink. “All I expect from you is to be loyal and obedient. If any of my subordinates suspect you of betraying the mafia, they have the right to kill you.” Unconsciously, your spine straightened and a drop of sweat ran down your temple. You squirmed in your seat at the mere thought of everyone in this building being allowed to kill you of they thought of it as necessary. “Fine,” it didn’t sit quite well with you, but this was the cost for regaining a normal life. 

“Excellent!,” Mori clapped his gloved hands together once, reached for a file in his drawer and handed it to you. To your surprise, it seemed to be one of confidential content since it was sealed. The seal was already broken by Mori, though. “Dazai already enlightened you about our situation and information, so I want the two of you to partner up and find out who’s behind this. You’ll find more information in there.” 

You bowed more out of fear than respect before leaving his damned office. 

As soon as the heavy doors to Mori’s office fell into the lock behind you, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Something about this man absolutely terrified you and you feared that if you let the boss know you were scared of him, he could smell it and attack you like a dog. 

Walking down the corridor, you could feel Dazai’s shoulder brushing yours every once in a while, his steps were prominent in your ears and his cologne overwhelmed your sense of smell for a moment. You hated that he actually smelled good on top of already being gifted with good looks. “I can’t believe I’ll be stuck with you,” you groaned and opened the file, the number of the mission greeting you in thick writing. Dazai pouted, let his shoulders fall and shoved his hands into his pockets. “You can be so mean and all I did was breathe.” 

As you read through the content, you stopped dead in your tracks and broke out in a cold sweat. Eyes widened, a lump found home in your throat while your fingers were shaking. This couldn’t be true, right? Everything had to be the universe pulling a joke on you, an illusion which you were stuck in. You had suspected that your past would catch up to you, but everything came at once. Never in your entire life did you desire to see this hellish place, again. Dazai stopped several steps ahead of you as he noticed you were no longer following him. “Hm? What’s wrong?”  

“Several mafiosi have been murdered at the abandoned hospital..” 

A wicked smirk was stretched across Dazai’s lips, his gaze bore into your shaky form and a chuckle spilled from deep within his chest. This mission would definitely be more interesting than the previous ones which caused excitement to fill Dazai’s lungs bit by bit. It wasn’t every day that someone dared to attack the mafia’s men, it wasn’t every day that a stranger joined the organization and it certainly wasn’t usual for Mori to get an innocent citizen killed.

“The only place in Yokohama which is half burned and half frozen. Looks like you have a past with our target, [Name].”

[yeaahishowedupatyourparty]

@.JaneyPowellx: Thank you for the overwhelming feedback on chapters 1 to 3. I’m so glad that everybody has understood why I’ve decided to do this; not to romanticise or sensationalise my experience, but to raise awareness and give answers that I’ve never been able to verbalise.  I want to say again that if you choose not to follow this story, it doesn’t make you any less of a fan. In this book are experiences humans aren’t supposed to endure or witness, but unfortunately do. 

In the first instalment of this story, I gave you the build up to my abduction from my perspective. The purpose was so that you could see all of the mistakes I made, and all of the red flags I missed, and avoid making them yourself - or help somebody who you see in the same state of mind. In these next chapters, I’ll be talking about what actually happened while I was away.

So many people have told me that I don’t have to talk about it and that what happened while I was out there doesn’t have to be relived. But, I do understand the curiosity that coincides with stories like this. Most of us will never go through it but it’s something every single person fears to some extent. 

If you’ve read this far, thank you. 

Janey x 

TW: abduction, assault, murder

//OOC: This isn’t a full on story, just the outline! I think it’s taken her ages but she’d definitely record like a diary-styled retell of everything that happened to her involving the abduction that happened when she was 15. It’d be super cheap and available in stores AND online but all the profit would be go to appropriate foundations.

CHAPTER FOUR: MOVING DAY 

Janey would recall how she remembers falling asleep on the floor of the flat she’d been staying in and seeing the time on the microwave say 22:32 (10:32) on the last day of August. She was woken up abruptly at 03:00 by the men who were keeping her there. She was told to stay quiet and wait by the door. The boyfriend of her best friend dressed her in one of his hoodies and told her to keep her head down. She’d explain how she knew they were leaving because the police were getting way too close, but she also felt hopeful. If just one person caught her face while they left the tower block, she’d be safe. However, they didn’t take her out of the main exit but the fire exit, into a car that was already waiting at the bottom of the stairs. Janey would explain that she remembers running her fingers through the ends of her hair and trying to leave some on the stairs in a desperate last hope that someone might detect DNA. That was never the case as far as she knows.

She’d explain how she was put into the back of a seven-seater car and she had no idea where she was going, but knew they were moving out of the city because of how dark it got and the lack of buildings/street lights. She remembers thinking they might be going back to the Springs and if they were, she could make a run for it, but that never happened. They stopped off at a motel and picked up two other girls and a guy. The girls were also put into the back of the car and Janey remembers them looking terrified but never saying anything to her.  After more hours of driving and several stops at convenience stores and to get petrol, they ended up at a ferry port in Kent. All three girls were told to get into cases; which they did; and lay low. Again, Janey was almost certain they’d be found...but they weren’t. They were on a ferry and were kept int he car for another two days while the guys drove from France to where she now realises was The Netherlands and more specifically Amsterdam. 

The two girls Janey had been travelling with were dropped off with the guy and her friend’s boyfriend on the cusp of some city. The boyfriend’s friend and Janey were left in the car and she was allowed to ride up front. She remembers having to beg to use the rest room and get some food from a cafe. He let her and she’d explain how she tried to get a woman’s attention once she was in the bathroom, but there was a language barrier and the woman seemed almost scared of her.

The chapter would end with Janey arriving at a small house in Volendam. She would see out the rest of the year there and for the most part, she had a lot of her privileges back. She was allowed to venture out as long as she stayed close to the house. Most nights, guys would arrive and continue to sleep with her and she quickly realised this is what it was. As long as she didn’t draw attention to herself or kick up a huge fuss, she would be kept alive because she made good business. It didn’t make it any easier though; she was lonely and depressed and just wanted to go home. She didn’t speak the language and hadn’t seen anymore reports about her case since August. She felt forgotten and lost.

CHAPTER FIVE: WHERE DID SHE GO? 

Janey would explain how sneaky and subtle her traffickers were. They’d let her be in public and hide her in plain sight to not seem suspicious. She’d speak about how they went back to France briefly in the Spring of the following year and she was excited to see a brief broadcast of her case. But, she’d also recall how there were a lot of instances where she could have been rescued but she was scared - if something went wrong and she ended up having to stay with her capture, they could punish her for trying to speak. She’d mention how she was once approached by an English couple in Paris and just as she went to speak, the guy came out of the bathroom and took her away. It messed with her mind so she just focused on staying alive, rather than escaping. 

Janey would talk about how for the majority of her years away, she was moved around Europe; specifically Croatia, Bulgaria, Poland and Russia. She’d explain that how some nights were worse than others but now she’s writing about them, she can’t pinpoint one. The majority of her time away is a blur and she’s sure she’s blocked them out on a subconscious level for her own well-being.

Janey would specifically talk about her last year of being in these people’s possession. It was a summer night in Russia and she was staying in an apartment in Moscow; somewhere where she seemed to get a lot of clients. At this point, she was living in a tiny room with five other girls who more or less did the same thing; she was nineteen. They were taken to a party which wasn’t out of character; there was alcohol, drugs etc. But, this particular party got raided. Janey decided to run while everybody was distracted by the police showing up.  She didn’t get far and one of the guys caught up with her in his car. She’d talk about how she remembers breaking down and remembers asking him why her? But, he’d always say why not.

She’d explain how being upset would earn abuse because it drew attention to them. She’d talk about how it was the worst night in the four years of being away and she cried herself to sleep in the apartment. Before falling asleep, she remembers hearing the friend and her friend’s boyfriend discussing going back to London because of how they’d raised a lot of suspicion in other countries. That’s when she decided she’d try one more time to get away. 

CHAPTER SIX: THE COTSWOLDS 

January 2020 - Janey would describe how she arrived back in London via flying and fake passports. She’d given up hope of anybody recognising her but was heartbroken when they went past so many officers and security workers with nobody recognising her or any of the men she was with. But, the relief of being back home, in the country where her family and friends were, brought her some sort of comfort. They had to wait at the airport to be picked up by another friend and Janey woud describe remembering how she’d been at Violet Springs airport so many times with her family and distracted herself by thinking about times she, Annabel and Harvey would run excitedly around airports or be falling asleep in the back of cars.  She also spent time watching one family with two little girls returning from a holiday; both being carried by their Dad. She figured that once upon a time, somebody had probably seen her too and never would’ve guessed where she’d end up. Who would?

Once they were picked up, she had the agony of driving through Violet Springs; past her old school, the downtown shops, the lake, even a friends house. She remembered how she always said she’d run if she got taken back home, but she didn’t. She was too weak, tired and felt like at this point, it was her fate to just stay put.  Plus, she’d probably be putting others in danger if she tried to reach out. Once they got to St Judes, she remembers seeing a group of kids walking home from a night out and she briefly wondered if any of them still thought about her. 

They drove out of Violet Springs and into a house in the Cotswolds (the countryside beyond VS, I think?). At this point, it was less about being paid to sleep with people and just being held captive because they couldn’t let her go. The guys were still abusing her but she’d become numb to it. She rarely saw anybody else and was never let outside. The only time she would leave was when the men wanted to go to the pub that they apparently owned. They’d take her through the back and leave her with in the storage room while they enjoyed themselves. 

Janey would speak about how one day, just before her 20th birthday, one of the guys brought her into the living room. They sat her down and told her to put on dark clothes. They explained they weren’t going to be a part of the ring anymore but still couldn’t let her go because she knew too much about them. Janey, at that point, swore she wouldn’t and begged them to let her go to no avail. They told her that it’d be her last night with them; they had to visit a few friends in London; but then she’d have to die. She was instructed to wait in the house until they got home from London. She was locked in the upstairs bedroom. 

Janey would admit how weirdly, it was the least scared she’d ever be. There were two endings for her now; to escape and somehow get home or to have her life ended & escape the mind games and torture she’d be living in.  She’d explain how she waited for an hour until she was sure they were gone and then started trying to escape. Her first thought was to kick open the door, which she did, but then everything else was locked and she couldn’t get out. So, the next thing she did was smash a window and climb out. She cut her leg on the way out but wasn’t about to stop to check it out. She’d explain how she ran faster than she ever had even though she was weak and hadn’t eaten in a while. She ran all the way to the nearest train station and jumped he barriers, she didn’t once look back and got on to the nearest train heading to Downtown Violet Springs. She wasn’t sure if she was going to actually get off there or hide out somewhere else, but she knew she had to get away from the house. 

[razorblade180]

Looking Back

[Lasting Embers au spoilers]

A constant in life is that life is constantly changing; a concept known to any huntsman that were worth their salt on the battlefield. As well as anybody who chose a dangerous life style. For Adam, it was the second constant in his life. The first was the stary void that dawned over him with its trillions of stars. It might be the only real perk of night watch. It was his turn to keep an eye out for any enemy that could’ve been following him and the rag tag fever dream of a team he found himself with. When Jacquelyn told him life is a story that goes the way each person decides, he never imagine somehow he had written a story that would lead him to helping members of team RWBY, their families, and his as well. Crazy for sure but hey, crazier had happened. This didn’t even make the list.

Yang approached him from behind with two mugs in her hand. The both of them were ordered to watch the forest clearing from the tree line. Ruby was dead set on making sure the two of them were in sync enough to fight together if things got hairy. Yang could think of a million other ways to spend the night but she wasn’t about to complain and handed him the coffee.

Yang:One coffee, black. If you’re going for something gross to keep you awake then I understand.

Adam:I told you black so you couldn’t slip anything in it.

Yang:....

Adam:Joking, I wasn’t serious. Mostly.

Yang:Your humor is more bitter than your drink. *sips* you should try to be more grounded.

Adam:That was terrible. We can’t both be bad at this or I might die from boredom alone.

Yang:Stabs to the chest didn’t end you. I doubt puns will. I’d be upset; could’ve gotten rid of you a long time ago if they did.

Adam:What can I say? I’m one lucky bastard.

Yang:I’ll say....

The blonde bruiser sat down with her head supported by her hands. Being here was awkward, too awkward. Neither of them really continued speaking. One watched the fields whil the other star gazed. Adam would sometime steal glances at Yang’s arm before going back to mapping out the sky. Yang let out a long and over the top sigh. At this point, talking to Adam couldn’t be as unbearable as saying nothing.

Yang:We should play a game.

Adam:What?

Yang:You heard me. It’ll pass the time. Besides, I’m positive Ruby will keep sticking us as partners if we don’t even pretend to get along.

Adam:Who’s pretending? I made my peace with my thoughts on you a long time ago. If I hadn’t then I wouldn’t have entertained the thought of looking over your daughter for over a decade.

Yang:Hmm is that right? Well, can’t say I’m not entirely over that hump.

Adam:This makes the fourth of fifth time you’ve told me that. You need new material. Freeing Jackie, me, when I showed up at your home, the train ride; I get it. Messaged received.

Yang:Tsk, no need to sound smug about it.

Adam:I’m not. I just don’t see a reason for you to state the obvious. You don’t forgive someone who shouldn’t be forgiven. What, are you upset because people like your sister don’t share the sentiment?

Yang:Why bring Ruby up and not Blake?

Adam:Like I said, stating the obvious. How are you two though? You’ve had plenty of time to properly bury that hatchet.

Yang:We’re just fine. Even before this whole cult shit.

Adam:Good. It’s already insane you two “killed” me and didn’t get together. I’d feel some type of way if you weren’t even friends. Talk about a let down.

Yang:You’re the reason- ugh, why the hell am I even trying to hold a proper conversation with you? I might as well pull my hair out...

Adam:....The hate game.

Yang:What?

Adam:It’s the game I wanna play. You and another person take turns talking about something you hate about the other.

Yang:That....sounds so stupid.

Adam:That’s the spirit, I’ll go first. You’re really loud all the time. Ever heard of a inside voice?

Yang:That’s rich coming from the screaming goat. All you ever did was scream Blake’s name.

Adam:All you ever did was scream in general. I hate how you always seem to butt into everything. It’s one thing to help a friend but you like act like you have a right to have an opinion on people you know by association.

Yang:I don’t need to know much about a terrorist to know you’re terrible.

Adam:I hate how you haven’t realized this is the first time you’re judging me by the crimes I committed for the first time, instead of claiming I was nothing but fake towards Blake and Ilia.

Yang:....

Adam:Everything is personal with you.

Yang:Says the hypocrite.

Adam:I won’t deny that. You feel better or you got more on your chest?

Yang:We’d be here for years if I said it all.

Adam:Then say the important ones I know you wanna say. “I hate that you’re still alive.” Or is it “I can’t stand your dismissive attitude?” The fact anybody like me was given a second-

Yang:I hate that you’ve spent more time with Yujin than me...

Adam:Oh....hmm. *lays back*

Yang:Got nothing smart to say, jackass?

Adam:Hey if you raised my kid with me barely around, I’d hate you too. Can’t fault you for that one.

Yang:It’s a twisted joke really. So many people to look over her from afar and it’s you. What was Sun thinking?

Adam:We were under staffed and things got ugly really fast. Decisions had to happen quickly. Plus the threat was clearly too unknown and dangerous to half ass anything. They killed two of you after all.

Yang:It would be wise to keep that incident out of your mouth. Ruby might tolerate you but that’ll change before I can even lift a finger.

Adam:Now you’re warning me? I thought your sister stomping me out would make your day.

Yang:Dude...shut up.

Adam:....What happened to your uncle and friend was terrible, sorry.

Yang:Ugh, even you saying that feels so wrong.

Adam: Please, thank you, and I’m sorry aren’t that hard. It’s not even new. The white fang wasn’t all snarls and chanting like you think. For awhile I pretty calm there.

Yang:The key word being “awhile.” You murdered your own.

Adam:Yep.

Yang*grits teeth* That’s all you say? People keep saying you’re different left and right and yet you don’t seem even a little regretfull. You’re sipping coffee and staring at the stars as if you hadn’t spent most of your life ruining other’s! What part of that sounds like a change of heart!?

Adam didn’t break his attention away from those stars. If he did, Adam would’ve no doubt seen how irritated Yang was. Her eyes burned red as she waited for an answer. Yang’s coffee was even boiling.

Yang:Well?

Adam:Regretting doesn’t bring them back, or the most heartfelt apologies. It just stirs anger. You wouldn’t feel better about your arm if I apologize.

Yang:So you choose to not even try.

Adam:No, I’ll just convince Jacquelyn to get the relic of creation whenever we eventually go to Atlas.

A perfectly good cup of coffee falls out of Yang’s hand. Did she hear that right? Adam just said he planned on creating an arm with a relic, for her!

Adam:What? It made me an eye. Making an arm is far less complicated than that. I’d say that would be better than any words I could say that you wouldn’t believe anyways.

Yang:....It’s your turn again.

Adam:Ah, let’s see. Well, if I were to be honest I guess...it really bothers me how similar you are to your daughter.

Yang:The hell does-

Adam:Let me finish before you break my ribs. That kid of yours pretty feisty and passionate about so many things. She bugged me to help train her until I finally said yes. Yujin gets frustrated easily and gets really sensitive about certain maternal subjects; yet it isn’t like she doesn’t want to avoid those conversations altogether. Seriously, your daughter is a little bit of a mess, but a fun mess. That bothers me because for a split second I can’t help but wonder that maybe if you and encountered each other on the same side in the beginning...maybe we’d be decent acquaintances or something.

Yang:D-Did you just say what I think you just said.

Adam:Who knows? I suck with words. I’m gonna rest for a little bit.

He turned his back to her to avoid eye contact. Yang couldn’t believe what she was witnessing. Was he embarrassed? Did he actually try some roundabout way of saying she was a good person? If only Blake was here for that. She would’ve flipped. Yang looked up the sky then back at the field; still nothing. When her guys went back to the stars it was curiosity.

Yang:Hey, were you staring a constellation in particular or something?

Adam:You can see Capricornus well from here. I joke all the time with Jael about that one since she’s into a shark faunus. Looking at it made me think about her is all.

Yang:Jael is your second daughter right?! I can’t believe I didn’t know that. I remember the first one for sure.

Adam:You were a little preoccupied to notice anything regarding Jael. Her and Yujin share a birthday.

Yang:No foolin!? Well how about that.

Adam:Yeah, life sure does like it’s jokes. I get a lot of flack if I’m not around for one’s birthday. Jael will get pouty and your daughter gets fussy. “You promised!” I’ve heard that too much.

Yang:Hehe, Jin might get that from me. It’s natural for your kid though. I know I wanted my dad around for mine. Even when I grew up and acted like I was too grown to really care, I wanted his birthday breakfast. Your kid looked like a real beauty.

Adam:Thanks, definitely got that from her mother.

Yang:Haha, don’t feel bad. Seeing Yujin with short hair made me think Jaune had another younger sister I just never met. His genes are way too strong.

Adam:Trust me, I’ve seen her with long hair and in the middle of a fight. I might’ve called her your name a few times.

Yang:Oof, that must’ve pissed her off.

Adam:No....she was actually surprised more than anything. Yujin never hated you Yang. Despite how she acted whenever your name was mentioned. I think she just wasn’t sure how to feel about you besides feeling lonely. I’m not any better with Jael. You wanna talk regrets, I don’t think I spent enough time with her the way I should’ve. Hopefully I’m wrong.

Yang:It’s very telling that you don’t regret your past but you regret something like that.

Adam:My past is terrible and dark, but it led me to my wife and kids. It feels wrong to regret it, so I’ll just accept it and carry on. Otherwise I don’t think I’ll ever have time to live in the present.

Yang:Geez, ever the drama queen. Though I can see a little bit of that view point. Still a spit in the face to people and yourself if you asked me.

Adam:The world thinks I’m dead and has made their mind up about me a long time ago. I go around taking down other terrorists and orginizations to keep them safe as a way to give back. I don’t owe the world anymore than that. I’m simply a remnant among Remnant. My regret is my kids have me as a dad. A kid should be able to talk about their parents and be proud.

Yang:Can’t argue with that. At least you stayed and are apart of their life. I can barely say that.

Adam:Helping save Remnant from another shadow war is a pretty strong excuse. Especially when the group has actually killed your family members. You’re just protecting them. Jaune and Yujin understand that.

Yang:....I hate that you’re not as terrible anymore. Reasonable you is too...

Adam:Reasonable?

Yang:I really hope I don’t have with this for another ten years.

Adam:I give it two, tops. You have a maiden with you this time and me. I’ll just hit you so you can get stronger and wreck shop.

Yang:Hit me and I hit you.

Adam:I’ll block, now we’re both wrecking shop.

Yang:Jacquelyn must have the patience of a saint to deal with you.

Adam:Yep, she’s pretty great. Saved my life, saved my soul. Couldn’t ask for more. You two would probably get along.

Yang:Nah, we worked together once. Wasn’t the best experience.

Adam:I was kidnapped and you were both pregnant. I’m not the smartest person but I’m positive that was a recipe for disaster. She thinks you’re cool, really respect your virtues. Sometimes it feels like she’s quoting you unfortunately.

Yang:Oh, glad I left a good impression. Maybe I can have her whisper regrets into your ear. Seriously, I regret things like lying to Ruby about tiny things yet you don’t really regret anything?

Adam:My regrets take place before the white fang. They remain in the work camp I escaped from. It’s funny, Yujin reminds me of my little sister, Eve.

Yang:Are you telling me that you, Adam, had a sister named Eve?

Adam:When you live in a place devoid of hope or faith, you cling to it in any way can. So my mother named us to help maintain hers. Probably had something to do with the loss of our father. Can’t say, never met him.

Yang:What was your mother’s name?

Adam:Don’t know. I called her mom and the gaurds called her by a serial number. Even that’s a little hazy. Anyways, sis got caught in an mining incident; mother was gunned down because I furious at a gaurd that stopped me from saving Eve.

Yang:Wow that’s umm, heavy stuff. Is that how you...*point to face*

Adam:Yeah, called it my punishment for disobeying. As far as regrets go, it would’ve been nice to be a son and brother; one that got to actually have proper meals.

Yang looked at Adam stare deeply into the void of space. It was strange. Yang has never seen Adam look mournful before. His eyes seemed to get more lost in thought by the second. A part of her felt....sorry for him.

Yang:I’m sure they’ve watched over you since day one. Who knows? Maybe they’re the real reason you’ve survived so long? If I know a thing or two about little sisters and mothers, they’ll never let you rest until you clean up your act, hehehe. Ruby can vouch for that. I bet both of them would be proud of your end result.

Adam:That’s funny. It kinda sounds like you just tried showing me compassion.

Yang:Pfft, I think you may have brain damage you didn’t know about.

Adam:Oh it’s possible. Neo and Mercury have put me through some shit.

Both of them laughed and continued to chat aimlessly, unaware that Ruby and Raven were watching from their own vantage point.

Raven:Well look at that? Maybe the gods haven’t abandoned us if people like those two can chat like that.

Ruby:Looks like our colorful team has gotten a little more stable. Now if only Weiss can get used to Nora’s snoring.

Raven:That’s seriously on your to-do list?

Ruby:I refuse to lead my team poorly this time around. I’ll do whatever I can whenever I can.

Raven:Qrow and Oscar would be proud to see you back on your feet, the right way this time.

Ruby:Can’t mourn forever. This is the mission to end all missions. I’m going full throttle...