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lis-likes-fics · 3 years ago

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The Crowned Jewel | Chapter 13

"I walked into the house and got to the top of the stairs. He was in his office, the light was on and his door was open," Y/N started slowly as she sat atop Elijah's bed, one of his button downs wrapped around her now that she was freshly showered. Her wounds had been properly cared for, tended to by Elijah after she consistently told him that she was fine and could do it herself. He turned that down and took care of her, which made her heart squeeze and threatened to make her cry.

Elijah sat across from her, the box between them as his eyes focused on her. He looked as he usually looked when she spoke about her father or Damon and how they treated her.

Her eyes watched the box or the key that she fiddled with in her hands, only occasionally looking up to Elijah's face.

She continued, "He had been drinking. The bottle was almost empty. I was able to get past him without drawing attention to myself, but the home phone rang like something that would happen in some thriller. So when he came out, he saw me and started chasing me."

She glanced up at him for a fraction of a second, a hand reaching up to wipe her face before she let out a sigh and shook her head. "Um, I got to the door and he threw a bottle at me. Some of it got me, but nothing bad. When he got to me, he grabbed my arm and bruised it. I got a kick in, though," she chuckled at the end a little. But her small smile was short-lived. She was frowning again in no time.

"I got inside the room and barricaded the door so he couldn't get in. It felt like I'd been trapped there for hours. It was...terrifying." A heavy breath pushed out of her lungs as she remembered the whole experience that had happened less than a few hours ago. Elijah reached a hand out and took hers in his palm, his thumb stroking the back of her hand to offer comfort.

"I hid for what felt like hours. He tried to get me to open the door...I didn't realize he stopped for a while, but that's when I found the box and called you," she finished, wanting to get done with the retelling of her experience as fast as possible.

He gently tugged on her arm and pulled her into another hug. "I'm sorry," he whispered in her ear. "You don't deserve this. You deserve so much more."

She swallowed her tears before they could fall. She was tired of crying. At first, it had been freeing, it lifted a weight off her shoulders to make her feel lighter. Now it was taxing on her nerves and on her body, her throat and head hurt and she just felt like passing out.

When they separated, their eyes found the box between them. "Do you want me to open it?" Elijah asked after a moment of silence, hesitance.

She looked down at her key and then passed it to him, placing it in the palm of her hand as if it was made of paper and would tear too easily. He took the key and unlocked the box, opening the lid slowly between them.

Y/N was the first to reach in, grabbing the voice recorder on the top and holding it in her hand. She stroked the side of it before looking back in the box at the small baggie. "Best not to touch that," Elijah mumbled, using a handkerchief he grabbed from the side table to move it out of the way.

He pulled out the folded pieces of paper in the box, turning them over in his hand before passing it to her. She looked up at him and sighed. "Which one should we look at first?" she asked, raising the papers and the recorder in either hand.

He shrugged, looking between them. "The papers," he said. "I feel they are for your eyes only."

She sighed and nodded, putting down the recorder to read what she assumed were the missing journal entries.

I found something. Proof. I should have kept out of it. So much could go wrong if this gets out. I found

The entry stopped there, leaving Y/N to wonder why the page was even in the box. But, at the bottom of the page, there was a date and a time written down. She furrowed her brow and shook her head, "She found...something. It doesn't specify, but there's a date at the bottom." She looked up, "Maybe it's for a recording."

On the second page, there were two more dates and times written in Jocelyn's cursive. Written on the line above them were two words: The Truth.

Y/N moved the last paper to the side. It was not a journal entry: it looked like a document, multiple pages were stabled together and everything was written in print.

She picked up the recorder and searched for the first time written on the first page, setting it on the bed for them to listen. She pressed a button and the recording stopped as she reached over and grasped Elijah's hand with her own.

"How long has your business been running?" The sound of her mother's voice filled the room, the tape sort of scratchy as it played. There was the sound of heels clicking on the floors accompanied by another tapping by broader shoes—they were walking. Y/N held her breath, squeezing Elijah's hand for support.

"Three years," a man's voice replied. She did not recognize the voice at first, it had been far too long since she heard that voice and she was pretty sure she was not even a teenager the last it was heard.

Y/N mouthed a name to Elijah in question as the recording continued, "Giuseppe?" His brows furrowed and his eyes looked back down to the recorder.

"We have been very productive, and business has been booming," he explained proudly. "No better business than a Salvatore one." His words confirmed her thoughts and she let out a breath.

"Wow," Jocelyn replied.

"Wow, indeed."

"So, Giuseppe, have you ever... tried this stuff yourself?" she wondered.

There was a scoff, bordering on a full laugh at the absurdity of the question. "God, no," he said. "Too much of this, even just a little, could kill a man. I don't take it, but it sells like hotcakes, which is why we call them Hotcakes."

Y/N's eyes found the bag with the two little pills and began to piece everything together. The mentions of Hotcakes in the journal had confused her, but now it all made sense. Giuseppe Salvatore was running a drug business before he died. He had died of a drug overdose, after all, but everyone just assumed he had been an addict.

Jocelyn's voice returned, this time in almost a sickly sweet tone as she buttered him up, "And you're the big bad businessman?"

"Actually, no," he said. His next words had surprised the both of them. "Mikael takes care of the business and finance portion of these things."

"Mikaelson?" she wondered, trying to clarify the person for the recording. Elijah's jaw tightened at the mention of his father's name, a sigh leaving him at the thought of his father's legacy.

"He does the hiring and contracts. I handle the substances more closely. I take care of making the product, or showing some of our producers how to do it. There's a lot to taking care of a business that you wouldn't be able to understand, cupcake." The last sentence disgusted Y/N as she turned her head away.

Her mother was somewhat of a businesswoman herself, she owned part of the Dynasty and used to help run it when she was still alive. She was the one who dealt with most of the finances. As far as she knew, Jocelyn Grand's name was still in the deed.

"Has anyone..." her words trailed off, "died using these?"

There was a sigh and a hum, "Pretty girls shouldn't ask so many questions. You'll hurt yourself... or get yourself hurt."

The words sounded less like a warning and more like a threat, so she merely let a long pause of silence pass by them before she spoke again. "Of course." Keep him happy. "You're right." Keep him happy, keep him calm.

"Of course I am," he told her, a smile in his voice. "Walk with me."

There was another voice in the distance, a voice that was recognized immediately. "Giuseppe, why did you bring her back here? Does secrecy mean nothing to you?"

Giuseppe let out a long sigh, "Calm yourself, my friend. You'll give yourself a stroke. She won't tell anyone, Mikael. She knows what's good for her."

The recording came to an abrupt halt and silence lingered between them as they processed what they had just learned. Y/N let out a breath, "Mikael and Giuseppe worked together?"

Elijah's eyes found hers and he nodded, "I had no idea...but this might be the evidence we need to fix everything."

Y/N looked at the recording and scrolled. There were two others, two last ones that matched the dates and times in the journal.

One of them was the date of her mother's death.

She played the second recording.

Jocelyn's voice spoke immediately. Her voice was frantic, in obvious distress as she spoke out of breath, almost like she was crying. Y/N's heart pounded in her chest, and she found herself moving closer to Elijah. Her words came out in a rush of panic and fear, if she spoke any quicker they would not be able to understand what she was saying.

"Mikael Mikaelson and Giuseppe Salvatore. They run the whole thing. I got close, I got careless. Richard found out about the affair, he found out about the baby. He's going to do something, something bad. I think..." There was a long moment of silence, the first one in the whole tape as she tried to force the words out. "I think he's going to kill him."

She was interrupted from another sentence by the voice of a child in the background. "Mom, can Vincent take me to the movies?"

The recording stopped and Y/N blinked rapidly. "That...that was the day before she died." She looked up at Elijah, "You don't think..."

Elijah pulled his lip between his teeth and let out a sigh. He pulled her hand to his lips and kissed it, holding it between his hands and meeting her gaze. He licked his lips and shrugged, "I believe so."

She sighed looking at the recorder and pressing the last entry with a shaking hand. There was a long pause before something was finally said. "Giuseppe is dead," Jocelyn said, her voice weak with disbelief. "Richard killed him with his own drug. I didn't think when I married him years ago that he would be capable of such a thing, yet here we are... I think he's coming for me next, but I can't let that happen, for your sake..."

Y/N held her breath, covering her mouth as tears welled in her eyes. She had made these messages specifically for her. It had not been for anyone who happened to come by it, of course it hadn't. All of this was meant to be for Y/N to learn so that she would be able to do what Jocelyn could not. Elijah pulled her into his side and stroked his hand through her hair as the recording continued.

"I've hidden all the evidence I could collect in this box. I know you'll find it when the time is right, Vincent will make sure of that...'' Her voice was trembling now, like she was crying. "I'm sorry to leave you, Y/N, I'm sorry I couldn't protect you or your sibling the way I was supposed to...but I can't let him do this. I love you, Y/N, my sweet daughter. Vincent will protect you from now on. I need you to be able to do what I never could. Please know that I love you. That is the truth above everything else."

There was a beat of a second before the recording ended. Silence hung in the air, other than the trembling of Y/N's breath. "She..." Y/N started, "she did this to protect me. Everything was for me."

Elijah nodded, turning her head to see him, "But understand that none of this is your fault. Your mother loved you with her life, and she sacrificed hers to save yours."

Y/N wiped a hand down her face, "We need to turn this in. This is evidence we could use to put Richard away for good."

"And possibly Mikael as well," Elijah added, a smile finding its way to his face. "We would be free of them."

She thought about his words and suddenly smiled. She would be free, they would both be free; free of their toxic parents, free of their parent's terrible mistakes, free to raise the child in a safer environment.

They gathered the times and put them back in the box, careful to avoid touching the bag of pills. They did not need their prints on them. She closed the box and set it to the side, smiling at Elijah. It was a real, genuine smile that made his heart lighter.

"Are you sure you're alright?" he asked again, always worried about her well-being.

She nodded, "I am." Her smile fell only slightly, "We should...we should tell your siblings what we found. I need to talk to Vincent, his name is in the recording, he'll be involved."

He nodded in agreement, "We'll do that when the sun comes up and you've gotten plenty of rest. For now, we sleep." She leaned forward and kissed him, her arms wrapping around his neck to pull him close. He smiled, bringing his hands to her waist to hold her. She chuckled lightly when they separated, her lips brushing against his in another occasional kiss.

He moved back against the bed to pull her with him in his arms. He pulled the covers over the both of them and kissed her good night, his hand resting over her belly as he pulled her back to his chest. "Sleep, my darling. I love you."

"I love you," she replied. He was able to lull her to sleep as he hummed gently, his deep vocal tones calming her nerves and allowed her to rest, to actually rest for the first time in a while.

Delphine was away at school when Y/N returned to Vincent and Eva's home to explain everything that happened and everything she had found out to them. They had strong words to say, but they understood and gave their advice. When they were caught up, Elijah had come by to pick her up to sneak her into the Avenue to speak with his siblings.

They had all gathered in the office, per Elijah's request. She came with the box and played the recordings for them after explaining everything. They were all quite upset over what they learned about their father and the things he had been involved in.

"This is...madness. We knew he was bad, but we didn't think..." Rebekah muttered as she tried to piece things together. She turned toward Kol with a hand clasped over her mouth so she was facing away from the recording. Kol had been sitting on the table right beside her the whole time.

"You're telling me that Mikael ran a bloody drug business in this club when we were still only children?" Klaus clarified, his voice calm with the anger flaring within him.

Freya shrugged, "He could still be involved with it now."

"Exactly," Kol spoke. "Who says he ever stopped?"

"And who knows how many people he has killed in the process?" Freya pointed out.

Rebekah's eyes, filled with rage and sadness, fell on Y/N as she frowned. "And your poor mother..." she said. "If we had known we would have done something about this long ago."

Y/N's eyes found the floor for a moment before she shook her head and looked back at Rebekah, "Richard will get what's coming to him. So will Mikael, but Giuseppe is already dealt with. The Salvatores are out. As much as I hate Damon, he isn't guilty of anything."

Elijah clenched his jaw, not liking the idea of Damon facing no punishment, but agreed. "We need to worry about removing Mikael from the club altogether."

They thought for a moment before Klaus sighed, "We can sign him out of the deed but...we'll need Finn and Esther's signature."

Freya nodded, looking over at Klaus, "We'll go together. I can convince Finn, and you can convince our mother. They'll listen to us."

Klaus agreed. Y/N moved to sit down as Elijah came up behind her, his hands resting on the head of her chair. "So how are we going to take care of Richard?" Kol asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

She looked up in slight surprise, "We?"

"Of course," Rebekah said. "You're family now, Y/N."

Y/N licked her lips as Elijah smiled down at her, his hands resting on her shoulders. "I told you, you have an army of Mikaelsons at your back." She looked up to see him, pulling her lip between her teeth as a smile grew over her face.

"Then I guess I should tell you," she looked back at the siblings gathered around the room. "I..." Elijah squeezed her shoulders gently for support. She let out a breath for courage, "I'm pregnant."

Eyes widened, jaws dropped, and some gasps escaped their mouths. "Are you serious?" Rebekah asked for all of them. Elijah gave a proud nod, looking at his sister with soft eyes. "Yes, Rebekah. You're going to be an aunt."

Y/N had not had a moment to process anything before she was suddenly swarmed by Mikaelsons. Arms wrapped around her and congratulations were given. Klaus came to Elijah's side, patting his back with a large smile. "Congratulations, brother," he told him proudly.

Elijah looked back at his brother, a breath of a chuckle leaving him before his eyes found her again. Her smile was spread hypnotically across her face, a true smile he had missed seeing. It threatened to bring him to tears.

They continued talking to make sure to cover everything. As they were beginning to close, Elijah's fingers curled around the document. He handed it to her, "What is this?"

Y/N grabbed it from him and opened it, "I forgot about this." She pulled the two documents up to read them, her eyes flitting over a page as she scanned through the words. As she flipped through it, she saw signatures scattered over the pages on dotted lines, a few left open for a third participant.

There was a final dotted line, accompanied by two that had already been filled in with her mother and father's signatures. Her eyes widened when she saw what the documents were for. She blinked and looked up, "I need my lawyer."

"Ah, Y/N, lovely to see you again."

Y/N walked into the large apartment next to Elijah, his hand wrapped securely around her waist as she fiddled with the bag thrown over her shoulder. She had asked her lawyer to meet with them, and he agreed and invited her to his home to speak. Elijah came with her as emotional support.

"Mr. Castle. Thank you so much for agreeing to meet with us," she smiled as he invited them over to his small bar, offering a drink that they kindly declined. He held his hand out to grab hers, shaking and kissing the back of it respectfully before shaking Elijah's.

He shook his head, "No worries—and please, call me Lucien. Are you sure I can't get you lunch, darling?"

Y/N shook her head with a small smile, rubbing her hands at her sides. Elijah answered, "The matter in need of discussing is a sensitive case."

Lucien gave a look to Elijah, although not an unkind one. "Don't take this the wrong way," he chuckled lightly, "but who are you then?"

Y/N jumped in, "Lucien, this is Elijah. I need him here."

His eyes found her again, taking in her urgent demeanor nodded. He turned back to Elijah and gave a nod, "Very well then."

They moved to sit down, taking separate seats on the large sofas. He crossed his legs and leaned back in his seat, "Alright, let's get to business. What can I do for you, Ms. Grand?"

Y/N reached in her messenger bag as she pulled out the documents she had brought for him to look at, protected by a Manila folder as she slid them over the table to him. "I found this in some of my mother's old things," she left out the part about the drugs and confessions...for now. "I was wondering if you could explain this for me and possibly clarify a couple of things...?"

He grabbed the folder and flipped it open to see the documents. His eyes scanned over it, reading through important details that stood out to him before nodding and looking back up. "This is a contract for the deed to the Fox Dynasty, and this is for the mansion. The open fields are for...a successor? You?"

Y/N let out a breath as he confirmed what she had assumed. "These documents were printed the year I was born. If I were to sign this...would it still be eligible? If it is, how much of the building would I own?" Lucien looked over the contract, reviewing a couple of things.

"Your parents had a different lawyer at the time, so I am not certain of anything...but as far as I can tell, yes. Your mother's name is still in the deed, your father's obviously is. With both your parent's signatures in and everything in their respective fields...if you sign these, they would be signing the deed over in your name. You would own the Dynasty and the mansion entirely, business included." He looked up, "Is that what you want to do, love?"

Y/N pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, looking at Elijah with a hopeful glint in her eyes. Elijah shared a smile with her. She nodded as she turned back to Lucien, "Yes...Yes, I do."

He smiled and let out a chuckle, "Good, because I hate Richard." He took in a large breath, looking back over the contract to confirm a few things. He nodded and smiled, "Alright, then sign on the dotted line, and I will call you for everything else."

"That's it?" she asked, "It's that easy?"

He shrugged, "Well, I will need you to sign a few more things—and if you have any other questions, I will gladly answer them—but that's as difficult as it gets, if I'm not mistaken."

Y/N let out a relieved breath and leaned her forehead on Elijah's shoulder. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and rubbed it gently, kissing her head before she straightened up again. "That's nice," Lucien commented, tearing her from her thoughts.

She looked back at him and hummed. He smiled, "You two, so sweet. I hated Damon, too. Glad you dumped the boy." She chuckled and nodded gently. Lucien glanced over the contract again. "So, what do you plan to do with the club?"

She sighed and shrugged, "Separate myself from Richard." Her smile faltered and she looked back at Lucien, "There's actually a few things we need to cover as soon as possible. It's important...it concerns my mother's death and my father's involvement...our father's involvement." She gestured to Elijah, who straightened his back.

Lucien understood the seriousness of this situation immediately and nodded, standing from the sofa as he gestured towards the door to his home office. He looked up at Elijah, "We'll need your lawyer as well then, Mr. Mikaelson."

#elijah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson x y/n #elijah mikaelson x you #the vampire diaries fanfic #the vampire diaries fanfiction #the vampire diaries #the originals #the originals fanfic #the originals fanfiction #reader insert #female reader #fanfic #human au #fanfiction #tvd fanfic #tvd fanfiction #tvd fandom

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findingjoynweirdstuff · 3 years ago

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Dream SMP Recap (June 9/2021) - New Citizens

Ponk has a chat with Sam, Fundy and Purpled officially join Las Nevadas, and Ranboo receives an update message from the Council.

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VOD LINKS:

Ponk

Fundy

Purpled

Ranboo

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- Ponk continues building the bridge in his new valley

- He returns to Foolish’s summer home and finds the countersuit Puffy left. He reads it. Many of the claims he doesn’t think are actually against the law of the land. He insists he wasn’t quoting Roadtrip during his Banquet speech, but rather an old man

- Ponk will have the best lawyers (he also may pay the jury off but don’t tell anyone). He’s amused that Puffy would work with BadBoyHalo and call Ponk the ‘dirty Eggpire supporter’

- He finishes reading the lore suit and greets Purpled in chat, telling him that he’s getting sued by Puffy

- Sam logs on and Ponk takes him over to the valley. They’ve had their differences, but Ponk is in need of a good lawyer. Sam suggests Tubbo, but Tubbo is expensive and intimidating

- Ponk points out that Sam will be the only one in the jury with an elevated IQ like his own. Sam hasn’t been officially selected for the jury yet, and they might think he’s biased, having cut off Ponk’s arm (Sam says he did it for good reason)

- They reach the valley and Sam approves of Ponk’s bridge

Sam: “You can see Kinoko Kingdom from here.”

Ponk: “(gagging sound) No, you can see Niki’s place! Niki’s communist cult! It’s great! We’re gonna set up a nice trade agreement, and (mumbling) then we’ll burn Kinoko Kingdom down to the groun-- I mean, then we’ll have nice trade deals with everyone, you know?”

- Ponk is bitter about losing his arm and Sam blames it on him for stealing the keycards

Ponk: “Sam...just so you know, just so you know...You can come to me after...after everything. I will still support you, Sam, okay? You’ll have a place to stay, because, all the wrong you’ve done is gonna catch up behind you, you know? All the wrong that you’ve done--”

Sam: “I haven’t really done anything wrong.”

Ponk: “Haven’t you? Haven’t you?!”

Sam: “No, I think I’m a good guy.”

Ponk: “You think you’re a good person?”

Sam: “I don’t know, you don’t think I’m a good person?”

Ponk: “I mean -- my opinions are biased.”

- Ponk asks Sam to walk and talk with him on the way back to Spawn. Sam’s spoken with Purpled recently

- They visit the animal sanctuary and Sam suggests they steal the strider. Ponk tells him stealing is bad. Sam wants to let it out. They play with the strider a bit

- Ponk explains his conflict with Puffy in general terms

Sam: “Look, I have a random crossbow from one of those guys that we killed.”

Ponk: “You said that so casually...life is precious, you know.”

- Ponk asks about the bank. He’s free to work. Sam says it’s up to Hannah. The two discuss the bank system

- Ponk hasn’t seen Technoblade in a while. Sam thinks he must be overthrowing governments in a far off land or something

- Ponk offers to trade with Sam for two stacks of redstone blocks. He asks how much for his arm back. Sam says he destroyed it. Ponk is upset that Sam didn’t keep it, but Sam says it was too mangled

- Sam trades some gold for the redstone

- They fight a raid together and capture a Ravager

- The two continue to chat for a while

- Fundy stands by his bed. He had a great sleep! He dreamt about a Windows update and he’s looking...a little sleepy?

- He checks the to-do list. Today’s the day. He grabs some things for the road. Fundy decides he’ll go alone. He doesn’t want to risk losing his snow fox friend

- He says hi to his Aunt Panisha (a salmon in the river) as he sets off, asking her to wish him luck

- Fundy reaches Las Nevadas wonders where Quackity’s office is. After some deduction, he heads to the Needle and spots Quackity going up the elevator

- After some hesitation, Fundy goes up the elevator too and comes face-to-face with Quackity, who sees him and asks if he’s okay. Fundy says he’s doing fine, he had a weird sleep and may have woke up outside the window

- Fundy tells him that he took his advice and bettered himself. They sit at the table and Fundy shows him his new diet. Quackity says he’s proud of him

- Fundy mentions that last time they spoke, he suggested they play cards and back at home, he didn’t sleep because he was waiting for Quackity to come over...and then he didn’t

- Quackity explains he just had a bunch of paperwork to do

- Fundy spots some slime blocks bunched at the side of the room and asks what that’s about. Quackity says it’s “a friend” of his, that he’s probably asleep

- Quackity gets Charlie to emerge from the slime

Charlie: “Hey, Fundy from L’manburg!”

- He was in the middle of his gloop-morphosis. Fundy is confused at how he knows who he is. Charlie digs into the floor and gets Fundy to greet him, slurping up some slime

- Quackity tells Charlie he needs to speak with Fundy. Charlie says he can “sell it” and starts telling Fundy he looks like he wants to gamble. Fundy asks Quackity why he’s talking like this, and Quackity says he must have learned it from TV

- Fundy finds out that Charlie is incredibly old and asks Charlie about how he knew he was from L’manburg. Charlie declares them best friends

- Fundy tells Quackity that he’s changed, that he’s a better man. Quackity thinks it’s great, but he doesn’t want Fundy to portray a false version of himself

- Charlie looks at Fundy close-up and says he hasn’t changed

- Quackity doesn’t want Fundy to join under these conditions. Fundy insists he’s fine, he isn’t portraying a false version of himself

- Fundy’s lived in that cottage for way too long. All these nightmares are because of him interacting with people and he’s ruining it for them -- but ever since he’s improved himself and become more healthy, he hasn’t had those nightmares

- Quackity has thought about it a lot, and Fundy’s work in L’manburg was exceptional. He thinks Las Nevadas will be a stepping stone to Fundy’s success

- Charlie gets Fundy to smell him and asks him what it’s like to dream. Fundy sniffs and maybe swallows a piece of Charlie. Charlie tells him one day he’ll be whole again

- Quackity passes Charlie a bone of one of their “mutual friends” in L’manburg and asks Charlie to analyze it

- Quackity and Fundy leave Charlie in the Needle and go back down. Quackity brings him downstairs, where he tells Fundy there’s no going back. He wants to make sure Fundy can trust him and hands Fundy a book to sign:

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All persons naturalized in Las Nevadas, and subject to the jurisdiction thereof, are citizens of Las Nevadas and the land wherein they reside.

The signing of this document subjects you to the rights and duties of the nation:

TAXES. Residents are required to pay a jurisdictional and financial charge to the nation to fund future projects and development of the nation. Failure to pay could result in the extinction of your permanent residence and possibly death.

MILITARY PARTICIPATION. One of your duties as a resident of Las Nevadas is the complete protection of the nation. You’re required to participate in any wars, conflicts, or disputes of the nation, in favor of Las Nevadas.

LAND. One of your rights as a resident of Las Nevadas is a self assigned plot of land, approved by the proper authorities, to develop productive businesses, homes, entertainment centers, etc.

GAMBLING. Gambling is defined as staking of something of value, with consciousness of risk and hope of gain, on the outcome of a game. Gambling is completely legal in Las Nevadas, but subject to constantly changing regulations.

THE LV LEGAL SYSTEM ---------------------------- Las Nevadas and any disputes within the nation will be settled in the Las Nevadas court (TBA), with the presence of the conflicted parties, and the proper authorities.

FALURE TO RESPECT THE CONSTITUTION AND THE DUTIES WHICH ARE ASSIGNED TO THIS RESIDENCE WILL RESULT IN THE IMMEDIATE TERMINATION OF CITIZENSHIP, AND, IF GUILTY OF A CRIME AGAINST THE NATION, YOU ARE SUBJECT TO

DEATH.

SIGNED . . .

QUACKITY

FOUNDER AND PRESIDENT OF LAS NEVADAS

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- Fundy is nervous and hesitates

Quackity: “Fundy, I -- You’re like a brother to me. We’ve gone through so much. But I still have to protect my nation...surely you can understand that.”

Fundy: “No, I -- I can. Yeah. Yeah yeah yeah, um...it’s strong...You really believe in this nation, right? It’s like your child--”

Quackity: “Fundy...this is all I have left...if this nation dies, I die along with it.”

- Fundy signs the document with his full legal name:

Fun Jonatahan Micahel Vincent Georgina James Sus Dy

- He signs the book, gives it to Quackity and asks that if he ever reads it, to not call Fundy by his legal name

- Quackity welcomes Fundy to Las Nevadas as an official citizen!

- Charlie has control over the piece of slime inside Fundy. He tells Charlie not to do that

- Quackity asks Charlie if he has a name. They decide to call him “Meat” for now, but Charlie tells Quackity in “secret” (very loudly) that he isn’t actually meat...he is slime from the ground

- Quackity suggests they call him Slime From the Ground. He then says he is bones

- He leads the other two to the edge of Las Nevadas’ road and points out that they have a big issue: Tubbo’s outpost nearby. Quackity suspects that Tubbo may be planning some dangerous strategy against the country

- Quackity gives Slime some armor to put on

Slime: “Ready for war...don’t take my music discs!”

Fundy and Quackity: “Wh -- what did you just say?”

- Quackity has an informational video he can show Fundy later. They investigate the outpost. He reminds Fundy about the military protection portion of the document

- Quackity remembers the Butcher Army and asks how much experience Fundy has with the military. Fundy was part of every single one that’s existed

- Quackity suggests they build their own version of the outpost

- Slime starts breaking Tubbo’s windows. Quackity encourages it and tells Slime it’s called “griefing,” handing him dirt to spread around the place

- Quackity finds the two Totems of Undying they have at the outpost and asks if they should take them. He then says they should test them. He doesn’t know what they do

- Fundy isn’t sure they should, or what Tubbo’s intentions are. Quackity decides to leave them unless Tubbo retaliates for the griefing

- They notice the bridge and Quackity suggests a tollbooth

- Quackity explains the concept of taxes to Slime, who’s been watching Purpled recently. Purpled hasn’t done much, just farmed

- They start building the tollbooth and Fundy brings up how medieval castles used to have boiling oil above the gates that they could use if there were people they didn’t like, and they could do something similar

- Slime starts throwing slime and Fundy can feel it (and it doesn’t feel good)

- Quackity asks for the bone he gave back, but Slime can’t tell the difference between all the bones

- Quackity remembers how when L’manburg exploded, Fundy and Niki came up to him and said it was a good day...what was that about?

Fundy: “The way I saw it was, during that time, everyone was trying to divide each other, right. Everyone was trying to divide each other...every one was either left or right and there was no in between. There was no...People always wanted to separate themselves and make war and destroy everything that was loved. When L’manburg was a thing, I cared about L’manburg, and then it got destroyed, right, and eventually, my hope at that moment was...that people just like, accepted that they shouldn’t--”

Quackity: “But you betrayed the nation...Fundy, the thing I’m getting at is, I don’t know your excuse or your thinking behind that...that will not happen again at this nation. No betrayals, no backstabbing. Not here. Understand?”

Slime: “What’s backstabbing?”

- Quackity and Fundy try to teach Slime how to backstab, then how to work the tollbooth against Tubbo

- Slime starts putting buttons on the walls. Quackity tells him not to, as it gives him bad memories

- Slime asks Fundy again what it’s like to dream. Fundy doesn’t want to talk about it, but Quackity notes that he’s been vague about it

- Fundy explains that every time something big happens in this place, he has dreams where he can sort of see what happens before it does. It’s like gazing into the future, except he loses details before it happens

- Quackity presses him on it. Let’s say they have a big war coming up, he takes Tubbo’s totems and Fundy sleeps and tells him what happens next so that they can prepare?

- Fundy doesn’t think that’s a good idea. Quackity doesn’t understand how real these things are

- What if they build an entire building for Fundy so that he can have these dreams comfortably? It’s just a possibility...

- Slime’s gloop-morphosis isn’t “complete” yet

- Quackity asks if Fundy knows Foolish. Fundy remembers one time he blew up a little bit of Foolish’s house and he finds out Foolish lives in Las Nevadas

- Quackity asks how long ago this was. Fundy says it happened a long time ago, but Slime corrects him

Quackity: “Just know, Fundy...he doesn’t know how to lie.”

- Quackity leaves to get diamonds and Fundy confronts Slime alone, asking him how he knows things. He tells Slime that in certain situations, it’s helpful to keep quiet on certain things for the benefit of other people

- They move on and Fundy teaches Slime a bit about fun and hobbies

- Quackity returns and they notice many squid in the nearby river. Quackity goes down and starts killing “cod” (salmon). Fundy corrects him that they aren’t cod, but to Quackity fish is fish. Fundy looks away while Quackity kills them

- They suggest Fundy be the food-gatherer. Fundy suggests a diet of fruit and plants

Slime: “What’s wrong with salmon? Your father loved them!”

- Quackity asks Fundy to elaborate on his father, if he came from a fishing family. Fundy asks Slime again about how he knows. Slime continually refers back to people “turning to dust.”

- They ask about what Slime knows about them, then about Slime’s favorite memory. He digs a whole in the ground and waits for a bit

- They teach Slime about humor

Slime: “Two people walk into a bar. One is green, one is red. The green one is shaped -- is a bigger guy, and the red one is a smaller guy. To get to the bar, both got off a train. The train the red guy was on was going west at 40 miles an hour for 60 miles. The train the other guy was on did not serve lunch. They both walked into a bar, and 500 years later they were still just dust in the ground. At the end of it all, they were just still dust, and none of it mattered.”

- Slime tells another joke about a chicken turning into dust.

Quackity: “How long do you think it’ll take for me to turn to dust?

Slime: “I...I’ll make sure you never turn to dust, Quackity from Las Nevadas!”

- Quackity asks about Fundy’s father

Slime: “The sooty guy?”

- Quackity and Slime ask Fundy -- shouldn’t he know? Slime says Fundy can ask Wilbur about his history himself

Quackity: “Your dad’s alive, Fundy?”

- Fundy tells Quackity about how Phil came to him with some interesting news, that Wilbur is actually alive. Quackity ask when was the last time Fundy’s seen Wilbur. Fundy hasn’t seen him alive again yet

Quackity: “What’s your relationship with Wilbur?”

Fundy: “It’s...it’s complicated, man. It’s very complicated.”

Quackity: “Because...there’s an issue.”

- Fundy wants to talk to Wilbur about a lot of things. Quackity brings Fundy over to the headquarters and breaks the news that Wilbur came to see Quackity

Fundy: “...He saw you? He went on his way to see you, and -- and he’s not shown up to me to, you know -- why, why?”

- Quackity shows Fundy the “mark” Wilbur made. Wilbur asked to join Las Nevadas, and Quackity said no. He shows Fundy the name: Fort Big. Tommy and Wilbur are working together

- Quackity is just warning Fundy. He hopes this won’t get in the way of Fundy supporting the nation. Fundy just doesn’t know why Wilbur didn’t come to him, but he went to Quackity.

Fundy: “Did he talk about me?”

- Quackity thinks he did, but he doesn’t remember what

- Fundy says goodbye to Slime and Quackity, heading off to settle down on his own. He stands at his plot of land, wondering if he’ll have to fight Wilbur

- Purpled is at his old base by the ruins of L’manburg. Life is good. He has DogChamp, he’s been fishing, no human contact

- He has something to attend to and goes to the cliffside nearby, finding Slime. He asks why Slime’s been watching him, who told Slime to spy. Slime avoids answering

- Purpled figures it’s Quackity and asks Slime more about how long he’s been above the ground, what he knows. Slime refers to him as “Purpled From a UFO” and Purpled shows Slime that his UFO has been destroyed by Quackity

- Purpled leaves Slime and visits the ruins. He notices Slime following him and tells him to leave again

- Slime traps himself in Dream’s honeymoon suite and Purpled continues down the path, looking at all the builds. He visits the Socializing Club and checks beneath the floor -- the trap he made all those months ago is still there. He wonders if anyone remembers these things

- Slime slimes his way out of the trap and Purpled visits L’manburg. He was just a pawn, there was no “Purpled in L’manburg” or “Purpled in Pogtopia” or “Purpled on Dream SMP’s side.” There was just no Purpled

- He returns to his house, gets DogChamp, puts him into a hidden chamber elsewhere. He stores his valuables...and rigs the entire place with TNT

He sets it off and it goes

- Slime talks to Purpled again. Purpled asks if Quackity is still interested in a new resident

- Purpled asks Slime to trust him as he retrieves DogChamp, and he gets Slime to lead him to Las Nevadas

- He makes it there and goes into the casino. Quackity doesn’t know what he has planned. He comes out to find Quackity there. Quackity takes him up to the top of the Needle

- Purpled makes it clear he only cares about the opportunity for himself, not for Quackity. He doesn’t stand for what Quackity does, doesn’t think there will ever be a time that he’ll respect Quackity as a person

- Quackity tells him they all change in some way or another. When he first became Vice President, he saw the best in everyone

Quackity: “I don’t really see the good in people anymore...but I do see opportunity.”

- Quackity tells Purpled that if they succeed with the nation, the two of them will be going down in history. Purpled starts to come around to thinking that maybe they are on the same page

- Quackity had a citizenship document he meant for Purpled to sign, but he’s willing to gamble on it without

Quackity: “Welcome to Las Nevadas, Purpled.”

- He gives Purpled the document either way and tells him he has a right to a plot of land. Quackity will have a business meeting with all the residents soon

- Purpled asks for land behind the casino. He has an idea for something. Quackity agrees to give it to him

- Purpled leaves and speaks to himself with DogChamp at the stage. Things will be looking different around here real soon

- Ranboo goes to the mailbox he set up with the Council and checks it, finding a new update in the book along with a Netherite Axe labelled “axe of the end” in Enderman.

The update reads:

---

Hello. We have been observing the happenings around the server and we come bearing not news but rather a warning for you. We know that you like to stand idle and not engage in any kind of acts of violence and we respect you for that.

However, we also know that there are people that you care about and you need to understand that in order to take care of those people you are no longer able to just stand idle. You need to take a more active role again. We have given you something that can help with that. Use it carefully.

We respect your wishes. - The Council

---

- Ranboo takes the axe. He planned to work on Tubbo’s outpost, make it seem like more of a shop than an outpost

- He goes to the outpost and finds the griefing, cleaning it up

- As some protective measures, he leaves signs:

---

Hello! Whoever put a bunch of dirt everywhere, Dont!

This is going to be a new cookie shop! We dont have cookies yet

Please leave it alone! Or violence will be used.

---

- He continues working on the outpost and Techno logs on. Ranboo goes over to the new tollbooth and pays the toll of one bone

Techno: ranboo have you unlocked teleportation yet

Ranboo: not yet i dont think

Ranboo: let me try

Ranboo: yeah no

Techno: can you hurry up

Techno: asking for a friend

- Ranboo explores around Las Nevadas and makes a to-do list

- He makes a hidey hole in the strip club and strips some logs. He gets tempted to steal a Netherite block

His to-do list reads:

---

TO DO LIST FOR LAS NEVADAS: 1. Figure out what to get inside of. 2. Figure out what the hollow buildings are 3. Figure out why there are so many horses 4. Figure out who runs this place 5. Figure out what the black pillars are for

---

- He returns home and speaks with Tubbo in VC

---

Upcoming events remain the same.

#dream smp #dream smp recaps #long posts

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actualmermaid · 3 years ago

Note

What exactly makes Christianity different from a typical personality cult? There have been plenty of people who have been deified by a group of fanatical followers. What makes Jesus so special?

All I can tell you is the story as I see it. All you have are my biases, and what "really" happened might be completely different. So this is what makes Jesus special to me. I only hope I can tell a "true story," whether or not all the details are correct.

Jesus' environment is a place where money, religious establishment, and government are all working together to oppress people. The Judean kings, the Roman Empire, and the Temple priests and scribes were all vying for influence over the people and over each other, at the expense of the common people, because there was not a distinct separation between religious and secular law. When people fulfilled their religious obligations via animal sacrifice, they also had to pay a tax to the Romans. "Normal people" in this environment were doing their best, but they were poor, and they knew that their rulers were taking advantage of them.

Jesus was a child of this environment. His mother was unwed, and she was potentially at risk of being stoned to death for adultery, but his father was a kind and just man, and refused to expose her to public scrutiny. Jesus' family was poor: Joseph was a craftsman and/or a manual laborer. Mary and Joseph offered turtledoves as a sacrifice when Jesus was born--this was a cheap offering, and probably the best they could afford. Jesus was a smart kid. He noticed all of these things, and he asked smart-alec questions about them. He grew up watching rich people offer lavish sacrifices and monetary offerings in the Temple. He wonders whether God views them more favorably just because they can afford to offer goats and lambs instead of pigeons and sparrows.

Eventually, Jesus grows up. He becomes a disciple of an ascetic sect for a time--possibly the Essenes, or possibly another of the diverse Jewish sects that existed in the Second Temple period, some of which rejected animal sacrifice altogether. He begins his ministry at age 30, and reaches out to people who had fallen through the cracks: poor people, people with skin diseases, people with mental illnesses, and people who had been forced to take on degrading, low-status jobs in order to survive. The Gospels tell a story about society, not about Judaism or Christianity as "belief systems," which is how we think of them.

His message is this: take care of each other, be reconciled with your neighbor, and God will provide. He made the lilies of the field and the birds of the air, and they have nothing to offer him but their beauty. And people, who are made in his image, are much more precious to God than any number of sparrows.

For three years, Jesus travels around Judea, preaching and healing and making both friends and enemies. It all comes to a head in Jerusalem during Passover. Jesus takes the time to braid a whip, and then he walks into the Temple, upending the tables of the money-changers and driving out the merchants who were ripping people off when they came to buy animals for their ritual obligations.

Jesus knew who his enemies were. He knew what he was disrupting. And he knew what the consequences would be. The Roman governor, with the collaboration of the Judean religious authorities, has Jesus put to death.

For the last 2000 years, people have tried to understand what this means. There are several explanations: Jesus accepted his humiliating execution so that his followers wouldn't have to. Jesus willingly became the Passover lamb for those who had none of their own. Jesus went to his death in order to put his enemies to shame. Jesus died because he was too great a threat to the established order.

Christianity as we know it is not a static, unchanging set of dogmas that burst into existence right after Jesus' death. It's a puzzle. It's a challenge. It's an invitation to understand the story, to become a disciple of Jesus, and to consume everything he was. We are meant to be changed by his flesh and blood, which we receive in the form of bread and wine, generation after generation. One life alone is not enough to understand the full message. We constantly add our own gifts to the "heavenly treasury" of Christianity: all our wisdom, knowledge, tradition, experience, language, art, science, gold, silver, labor, and love. We are all imperfect. We are all sinners. We are all part of the story, in some way, and it's up to us to understand what part we play in this story's unfolding.

I always try to understand myself and my place in the world. I'm the daughter of an imperial military officer. I was born into privilege. That doesn't make me a "bad person," but it does demand a certain responsibility. When I place myself at the scene of the Crucifixion, I'm perhaps a daughter of a centurion, watching the scene and thinking this isn't right.

I was also forced out of full participation in my family's religion for being a sexual minority (and, on some level, for being a girl who asked too many inconvenient questions). In this, I feel a sense of kinship with the early Christians--Hellenistic Jews and Gentile God-fearers who were not quite at home in the traditions of their fathers. With them, I see in Jesus an eternal kingdom of love, justice, and mercy.

So that's what makes Jesus, and the discipline of Christianity, special to me.

#long post (not remorseful)#christianity

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scripts4dreamers · 4 years ago

Text

I literally JUST sat down, pt.2

Part One, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven

AN: The case stalls, but no one’s willing to give up on you just yet. Characters: Spencer Reid, Penelope Garcia, Derek Morgan, Aaron Hotchner, Jennifer Jareau, David Rossi.

Pairings: Spencer Reid x reader

Spoilers: None

Warnings: Mentions of crime and violence, alcohol

(Again! Massive shoutout to @pirateismywayofspeaking for the constant support and ideas! And lemme know if you want to be added to the taglist!)

—————————-

It’s a well known fact that there are three certainties in life; death, taxes and the willpower of one Penelope Garcia. In less than an hour she had somehow organized to get all your clothes and personal possessions delivered right to the BAU, packed in your favorite suitcases and all. A couple of things had to be kept in evidence because the UnSub might have come into contact with them, but all the important stuff was there. It was comforting, having your stuff safe with you and, as you sat through the long and rigorous process of being interviewed, you felt better.

“And you’re 100% sure that none of your employees could have possibly done this?” Rossi asked, “Maybe someone you recently fired? Or someone who has a history of violence?”

You gave him an incredulous look, “Rossi, come on. Do you really think I’d be stupid enough to hire someone with a violent past?”

“You checked everyone out?”

“Full background checks on all three employees,” you agreed, “the harshest thing on any of their records was a parking ticket and a decade old charge for underage drinking.”

Hotch sighed, rubbing his temples right where you knew he got headaches.

“We know the poem is significant to the UnSub. It’s an old love poem, so it’s got to be someone who has some sort of connection to you,” he repeated, “it's personal.”

You shook your head, “Hotch, I don’t know what to tell you. I haven’t had a romantic relationship in years. There’s not a lot of time when you work 14 hour days.”

“Don’t we know it,” Rossi agreed, “so, a stalker, maybe?”

“That’s a hell of a way to make first contact,” you scoffed, “a phone call would be less risky.”

“And less effective.”

You conceded the point with a head tilt, and then looked back at Hotch, “Hotch, can we take a break? We’ve been at this for hours.”

“Of course,” he agreed, “get some rest, Y/L/N.”

“No, it’s okay, there’s work to be done here. I can stay,” you assured, stretching your stiff limbs.

Hotch shot you a look, but said nothing, obviously sensing that you weren’t going to give in without some sort of fight. Instead, he just gave you a terse nod, and walked out, leaving you with Rossi.

“You’re impossible, you know that, right?” He said.

You smiled, shrugging, “What can I say, Ros? I learned from the best.”

He chuckled, shaking his head and ruffling your hair as he walked past you, “Good to have you back, kid.”

The bullpen was busy when you walked back in, suitcases in hand, striding your way over to your old desk. It’s scary how little had really changed in the year since you’d been gone. Aside from Spencer’s semi-annual hair evolution, everything was the same; the smells, the sights, even the comforting clack of Garcia’s heels against the floor. It was comforting, almost painfully so but, as you reached your old desk, you noticed something was wrong.

“Whose stuff is this?” You asked, gesturing to the stacks of files and piles of paper scattered all over the surface.

“Mine,” Emily said, not even looking up from her work.

“But...you have a desk,” you pointed out.

“And now I have two,” she replied simply, “you can sit somewhere else.”

She was being stubborn and you felt a lick of irritation flare up inside your chest. Emily Prentiss had been one of your closest friends for years and, when you’d left the BAU, she’d taken it the hardest. Any other time, you would have understood her resentment but, given the circumstances, you weren’t feeling particularly generous.

You crossed your arms over your chest, “And where do you suggest I sit?”

Emily shrugged and gave you a sickly sweet smile, “You can share with Reid.”

You felt yourself flush with heat. Emily had known about your feelings for Spencer, she’d even encouraged you to act on them. You knew she’d never actually betray your trust, but even that subtle dig was enough to make you want to argue. You opened your mouth but, before you could say anything, Spencer interrupted.

“Here, Y/N,” he smiled, patting a spot beside him, “I’ve got space.”

You pressed your lips together, but relented when he took the time to pull an empty chair over for you to sit in.

“Thanks, Reid,” you said, taking the offered seat.

“So, did you and Hotch figure anything out?” Spencer asked.

You shook your head, “Nothing we didn’t already know. Rossi thinks it might be some kind of stalker?” You offered.

Spencer frowned, “A stalker? That doesn’t make any sense, what kind of stalker starts off their pursuit with a murder?”

“A very, very desperate one.” Emily offered.

You wanted to snap something like; ‘oh, so now you’re talking to me?’ but you bit your tongue. You knew you were on edge, and now wasn’t the time to lash out at the only people who could really help you.

“Or very deranged.” Spencer suggested

You shuddered, picturing a faceless man in all black running his blood soaked hands across your walls, drawing a jagged smiley face above your bed, memorizing the faces in your pictures. You exhaled and pushed the thought away.

“Does this even count as an escalation?” You asked, “I’m not sure there’s really anywhere to go from here.”

You were met with stony silence as Emily and Spencer inspected their respective files. You knew what they were thinking, what everyone was thinking; whatever this was, it was bad news.

“Do we know who our victim is, yet?” Spencer asked.

“Nope,” you sighed, “the UnSub burned off his fingerprints and removed several of his molars before he dumped the body, the ME is doing her best to get a DNA match, but it’ll take time.”

“The mutilation is odd, considering there wasn’t any evidence of torture on the victim before they died,” Spencer said.

“It’s gotta be a forensic countermeasure,” Emily agreed, “but it’s extremely sophisticated. Our UnSub must have experience with law enforcement.”

“But as a perp or a cop?”

You sighed and buried your head in your hands, letting the familiar back and forth wash over you like white noise. You’d had this conversation before, many many times, and it never got any easier. Usually you lived for the puzzle but, now that you were the one under scrutiny, it felt like your brain was rebelling against you.

“Y/N/N?” Spencer asked, touching your shoulder gently and snapping back to reality.

“Mm?” You replied.

His face softened as he took in the exhaustion radiating off your body.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

You nodded, “Just a little drained, that’s all.”

The clicking of heels against the floor drew your attention and you looked up just in time to see Garcia swooping in with her purse.

“You ready to go, crime fighter?” She smiled.

“Go where?” You asked,

“Home!” She smiled, “I have the honor and privilege of hosting you tonight.”

“Garcia-“ you started.

“No! No arguing.” She insisted, “I’ve already found us a lovely little Thai place for dinner, and there’s a bunch of episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer lined up on my DVR.”

You groaned, rolling your eyes fondly, “I hate how well you know me.”

She smiled devilishly, “Sounds good, right?”

“It sounds incredible and you know that because you’re a super genius who knows literally everything.” You teased, pushing yourself onto your feet, “Okay, Wonder Woman, let’s go.”

As you made your way out of the office, you cast one last look over your shoulder, smiling when Spencer met your eye and gave you a small wave.

————————-

“Okay, Sugar Plum, spill,” Penelope pushed, handing you a full glass of wine, “how’re you really doing?”

“With what?”

Penelope shot you an incredulous look, “With, you know, all of it. The murder, the mystery, being back at work, the Spencer Reid of it all.”

You spluttered through a sip of wine, “The what? ‘Nel, you can’t be serious.”

“What? I’m just asking,” she insisted, “he followed you out earlier, you’re sharing a desk now...it wouldn’t be crazy if maybe your old crush came creeping back in.”

“Penelope” you started, “some creep dropped a dead body in my bookstore and broke into my apartment and you think I’m thinking about Spencer?” She didn’t answer, just raising her eyebrows and you sighed, sliding down the couch, “Okay so I’m pathetic.”

“No you’re not!” She insisted, “You guys were like two peas in a pod, back in the day. Plus, you’ve seen like a thousand dead bodies, you’re probably just desensitized.”

“Still,” you sulked, “I can’t believe I’m still thinking about Spence.”

“Naaaaaaaaw,” she swooned, squeezing your knee, “you called him ‘Spence’, you haven’t done that in ages.”

“Fuck off, Nel” you said without any real malice, burying your face in your hands and sighing again, “please tell me I’m being ridiculous.”

Garcia smiled, a knowing glint in her dark blue eyes as she sipped her wine and watched you squirm. She’d kept in touch with you when you left the BAU, insisting on weekly brunch meetups and girls nights and a million other things that you’re not sure you would’ve survived without. She’d been like a lifeline in those first few months and, because of that, she was the only one who really knew how hard leaving had been for you. She’d been the one who sat through the hours of crying and panicking and wondering who you were without your job, who’d held your hand when you went to get a small business loan, who’d sampled your cookie recipes and helped you design uniforms. Penelope Garcia had been there for all of it. You had a photo of the two of you together at the bookstore next to your bed. It was one of your most treasured possessions.

“Now, Sugar Plum, you know I’ve always had a soft spot for you and the Boy Wonder. He’s lovely, you’re lovely; he loves you, you love him, I love you both, it’s a match made in FBI heaven as far as I’m concerned-“

“But?” You prompted with a rueful smile.

“But,” Penelope agreed, “he took it really hard when you left, and I’m not sure how he’ll handle losing you a second time.”

You frowned, “He never lost me. None of you lost me, I just got a different job! It’s not my fault that basically no one bothered to keep in touch.”

Penelope’s face softened and she smiled at you sympathetically, “Pumpkin, you know it’s not like that. When you’re in the BAU, it’s like we’re living in our own little crime bubble, everything outside just kind of….fades, you know?”

“I know…”

“And with Spencer, well, you know he’s never been the best at dealing with abandonment, the poor thing’s been through so much already,” Penelope continued, “he tried to keep in touch. He really did, and he talked about you all the time.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

She sighed, “I don’t know. I guess I just-“ she shrugged and squeezed your knee again, “I don’t want you to think that he forgot about you, that’s all.”

You felt a small smile tug at the corners of your lips, and you gripped Garcia’s hand.

“Thanks, Nel.”

You knew she was right. Life in the BAU wasn’t like life on the outside; you lived by different rules, took different risks, valued different things. It was strange and intoxicating and you really couldn’t fault your teammates for continuing to play the game the way they always had. You’d chosen to leave and you had to live with the consequences of that.

“Can we talk about something besides boys now, please?” You asked, “I want this girl’s night to pass the bechdel test.”

She smiled and clapped her perfectly manicured hands, “Oh do not fret, ma Cherie because I’ve got so much to catch you up on-“

You listened with rapt attention as Garcia filled you in on the last twelve months of FBI gossip. You laughed together, ate Thai food and just relaxed together. With every Perfectly Penelope story, you felt a little more of your tension slip away and, by the time you made it to bed, you were feeling almost normal.

Penelope had made up the couch for you, complete with pillows and blankets and a homemade quilt. It was comfortable, too comfortable. So comfortable, that your brain had way too much time to mull over what Penelope had said earlier.

Spencer hadn’t just forgotten about you. What did that mean? He’d taken it hard when you left...the questions bounced around your mind like wasps, keeping you awake. Without meaning to, your mind started to drift, sifting through the years worth of memories you’d kept locked away in a box in the back of your mind.

————————

“You are the most insufferable person I’ve ever met,” you laughed, “I’m fine, Spence.”

“You’re not fine, Y/N, you got shot.” Spencer reminded you, his eyes still sparkling with the relief of seeing you alive and in good spirits.

You were sitting in the back of an ambulance, a throbbing pain resonating from the wound in your shoulder as the police searched through the nearby crime scene and Spencer inspected your face. It was cold and dark, but the sirens and flashing lights meant that it was anything but peaceful, and you knew it would still be many hours before either you or Spencer got any sleep.

“Yeah well, we’ve all been shot,” you pointed out, “and, statistically speaking, we have a 100% survival rate.”

Spencer rolled his eyes, but he was smiling so you knew he wasn’t too mad.

“You’re bastardizing my beautiful statistical analysis and using it for evil. Remind me why I’m bothering to check on you, again?” He teased.

“Because you loooooove me,” you teased back, jostling his shoulder with yours, “and because I just took a bullet to the shoulder for you.”

He chuckled but avoided your gaze, focusing on his shoes, “Yeah that would explain it.”

Something in the atmosphere changed and you looked over at Spencer, noticing the way he worried at the inside of his cheek with his hands in his pockets. His brow was furrowed too, like he was sad, and something in your chest pinched.

“You alright there, doc?” You asked.

“Don’t do it again,” he said, looking up and catching your eye.

You paused, “don’t do what?”

“Take a bullet to the shoulder for me,” he explained, “get hurt trying to protect me. Promise me you won’t do it again?”

You pressed your lips together, recognizing the same feeling of fear and guilt in Spencer that you, yourself, felt any time someone you cared about was in danger. You reached out, pulling one of his hands out of his pocket and giving it a gentle squeeze before letting go. Spencer held on for a second longer, his dark eyes filling with something as he took you in.

“You know I can’t promise that, Spence,” you said gently, “if we’re ever in a situation like this again….no way I’m just letting you die to avoid a couple of stitches.”

“No, you don’t-” he paused, getting himself worked up, “you don’t get it. I watched my girlfriend get shot right in front of me, I-I’ve lost so many people that I care about, Y/N, and I can’t lose anyone else. Not for something as stupid as my own life.”

“Your life isn’t some insignificant thing, Spence,” you insisted, “it’s important! To me, to the team, to everyone. We’re a family, Spencer, families have each other’s backs. Always.”

He took a deep breath and nodded, carding his fingers through his hair like he was agitated.

“Just-” he started again, “just promise me you won’t do it again.”

“I can’t.” you insisted, “I can’t make that promise.

He turned to face you, looking more tired than you’d seen him in weeks, “Then promise you’ll be careful. Promise me I won’t lose you too?”

Your heart ached, and you longed to reach out and wrap him up in your arms, but you restrained yourself.

“How about this; I’ll promise that you won’t lose me, if you promise that we’ll always be best friends, and that you’ll try to start valuing your own life as much as you value mine or Morgan’s, deal?” You offered, extending your hand for Spencer to shake.

Spencer frowned, opening his mouth to argue but, before he could, an agent interrupted.

“Agent Y/L/N? Dr. Reid? Agent Hotchner is looking for you.”

———————————-

You snapped back to reality with a jolt, and realised you were lonely. So much time had passed since that night, but you remembered it all perfectly, every detail. It wasn’t an especially meaningful night, there were a million moments just like it, but something about it had stuck. Maybe it was the potential, the wondering, that thing that he never got to say. You wish you’d gotten to hear it now.

You fumbled around in the dark for your cellphone, typing out a message and pressing send before you could think better of it. It was short, and to the point, and you would be shocked if he responded but, once it was done, you felt something in your chest loosen, like maybe you’d been wanting to send that message for a really long time.

To Spencer Reid: Hey, Reid? I’m sorry I left, I never meant to break my promise.

With the heavy weight of remembering suddenly lifted, you realised how tired you were, and you let sleep drag you under. If you’d stayed awake a little longer, you might not have missed the way Spencer kept typing, typing, typing away some message he never sent. Or the eventual response, which only came in three hours later:

You never broke your promise, Y/N. I broke mine.

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

Taglist: @ourfavoritesergeantbarnes, @confused-and-really-hungry, @word-scribbless, @reidloversisforever, @ashookykooky, @l0ve-0f-my-life, @shilohpug, @tangerinenotions95, @petitchatonbleu

#jordsie #jordsie writes #cm #cm imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds headcanons #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid headcanons #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler imagine #matthew gray gubler x you #matthew gray gubler #Penelope garcia #penelope garcia imagine

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fairfaxleasee · 4 years ago

Text

Accidental DADW Prompt

All credit/blame for this goes to @rangeredacted who decided she needed to send me all the Ever Given/Suez Canal fic on AO3 today. My brain decided to turn it into a @dadrunkwriting prompt.

Pairing: Fenris/f!Hawke

CW: satire, terrible innuendo, poor life choices

"Hawke, come quick - it's an emergency!" Isabela had started shouting before she even opened the doors to Cassia Hawke's office in the Viscount's Keep.

Fenris decided to ignore how she managed to evade all the guards, not to mention Aveline, and why the damn cat-thing wasn't trying to kill her (in its defense, it wasn't used to people just flinging open the doors to Cass' study).

"I know it's an emergency, I'm seven thousand royals short on the repairs and I'm out of things to tax!" Cass pushed the piles of papers strewn over her desk around, almost as though putting them in a different order would solve the problem that had been vexing her most of the past month. The structural damage from Anders' attack had been worse than she'd initially thought and she'd been forced to scrap a triage approach to the repairs.

"No, Hawke, this is an actual emergency!" Isabela snatched the papers Cass was flipping through out of her hand and looked around, "And I need you to solve it before Aveline sees!"

"...why?"

"I - look, she's just going to waste a lot of time doing her 'I told you so's and 'what were you even thinking's and neither of those things are going to help any! Fenris, she listens to you, you tell her to help!"

"Not until you explain what this is," he narrowed his eyes - Isabela had a habit of underestimating just how far in over her head she was.

"I - well, I think it might be better if you see-"

"Hawke, Aveline wants you down at the Harbor, and-" Donnic stopped when he saw Isabela. "Seriously? Again?"

"Donnic! Ruggedly handsome as always! Any chance Aveline's in a good mood?" Isabela batted her eyes at the man.

"Well, when she realizes whose fault this is she will be for about half a second..."

"Don't worry; Hawke's going to fix it!"

"Hawke is not going to fix it, Hawke is staying right here until she comes up with another seven thousand royals," Cass was back trying to will her ledgers to add up correctly.

Donnic motioned for Fenris to get closer to him. Fenris raised an eyebrow which only made the man motion more frantically. He rolled his eyes and obliged. Once he was close enough, Donnic whispered to him, "She's going to be a lot more than seven thousand royals short if she doesn't fix this soon - Kirkwall needs its harbor working."

"What's wrong with the harbor?" Fenris asked.

"...you wouldn't believe me if I told you. And no, Cassia's not going to like it. But she does need to fix it."

Maybe whatever this is will finally be enough to make her quit...

Fenris called over to Cass, "I don't think you're going to get any work done until you go see what this is."

Cass growled discontentedly but put her papers down.

"Now, Hawke, when you get there - just remember it was the wind, not me, alright?" Fenris doubted Isabela was helping her case any.

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

"Isabela," Cass empathized each syllable as she glared at what had pulled her from the Keep. "Why the fucking fuck is there a Qunari dreadnaught blocking my fucking harbor!"

"Well, it's not really a Qunari dreadnaught anymore, it's my dreadnaught-"

"YOU STOLE A QUNARI DREADNAUGHT?!?" Fenris, Cass, and Aveline shouted in unison. Fenris found the fact Isabela had done something so monumentally short-sighted both unbelievable and inevitable.

"Did you learn NOTHING from what happened last time you stole from them?" Cass was glaring at the dreadnaught that was now her problem.

"I learned you're good at getting me out of trouble?" Cass snapped her glare to Isabela, "Besides, I didn't steal this, I found it. It was just floating, and no one was using it at the time, and I thought it would make a good flagship."

Fenris narrowed his eyes, "You don't just find Qunari dreadnaughts floating around."

"Well, I mean, maybe it was in a harbor at the time..."

"So you stole it!" Aveline stalked over to Isabela.

"I boarded it fair and square. Or, well, fair and square by Raider standards anyway."

Fenris decided to let Aveline handle Isabela for the time being. He approached Cass and placed a hand on her shoulder, "So... thoughts?"

"Lots. Most of them involve wanting to do things like keel-haul Isabela, but none of them help me figure out what to do about this. Oh! What about fire?"

"That depends on what you want to use it on; if it's to burn Isabela at the stake or something I'll go get the kindling, but if you want to use it on the dreadnaught, I wouldn't recommend it. They're booby-trapped with gattlock charges."

"Ugh!" Cass stalked over to where the ship was wedged against the harbor, then called over to Aveline, "Aveline! Come with me, I need someone to shout at all the dockworkers for me!"

"I'm not done with you yet!" Aveline shook her finger in Isabela's face one last time before moving to follow Cass to the crowd of dockers looking on.

Isabela stuck out her tongue at the Guard Captain's back and wandered over to Fenris. "So, going to yell at me too?"

"I wasn't planning on it; Aveline seems to have it well in hand, and she's better at it than me."

"Then why aren't you stalking off after Hawke? You're usually won't let her get more than three feet from you. You're not on the outs again, are you? If you want to reconsider my offer..." she leaned towards him. He waited until she was just about touching him to step back, causing her to stumble.

"Cass and I are fine. And no one's going to try and assassinate her until she fixes this - no one wants Kirkwall's harbor blocked. And if I wanted to catch something-"

"Hmph! You could have just said 'no,' you know!"

"Yes."

"So if you're not going to yell at me or hover over Hawke, what are you going to do?"

"Hmm, well, I was just thinking I'm a bit surprised that you don't have any experience inserting objects into holes correctly."

"Oh, ha ha, very funny!"

"Or that you've never gotten something wedged somewhere inconvenient before and had to get it unstuck for yourself."

"Hilarious, Fenris."

"Why did you even try sideways in the first place, you had to know that wouldn't work."

"I TOLD you at the Keep, it was the wind! And this isn't funny at all, you know! What if Hawke decides to do something that hurts my new boat?"

"You don't strike me as someone who's scared of ramming."

"I'm warning you, Fenris!"

"Do you wonder if this could have been avoided if you're remembered to use some lubrication?"

"OH THAT IS IT!" Isabela sprang at him. She leapt on his back and started tugging at his hair and ears.

"Get off me, wench! What are you even doing?" Fenris reached up to try and pry Isabela off him.

"I'm making you shut your mouth is what I'm doing!"

"You want to make someone else shut something? Is that what happened with the boat? You saw an opening and-"

Fenris had been so busy trying to dodge Isabela's hands he'd forgotten how close to the harbor they were. He stumbled, put his foot on nothing, and sent them both tumbling into the water.

At least he finally managed to successfully dislodge Isabela. He broke the surface and started coughing.

"FENRIS!" Cass had come over and was leaning over the edge of the harbor.

"You get back here, Fenris, I'm not done with you - shit, I mean, hello, Hawke - your boyfriend and I were just having a nice discussion and I was being very nice but not too nice to him."

Cass shot Isabela a glare then reached down to help Fenris back onto the dock. "Are you alright? What happened?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Aveline walked up behind Cass, "Isabela just went and got herself all wet again."

"You're all hilarious, you know that?" Isabela was treading water, she knew better than to get too close to Cass and Aveline when they were both mad at her.

"Well, you do make it easy for us. But you make it easy for everyone, don't you?" Aveline retorted before shifting her focus to Cass, "We've got the winches in place. Once we shift the balance we should be able to pull the blighted thing out and move it down the coast a bit."

"What? You're going to sink my boat!"

"Well, that's not the plan but I fully understand that's a possible outcome," Cass responded.

"So... I can get my boat back then?"

"Only if you can pay the impound fee."

"Impound fee?"

"Yes, that ship was blocking the harbor, it required civic resources to dislodge it and disrupted trade for an afternoon. I'm impounding it and I'm not releasing it to anyone who doesn't pay the fee."

"What's the fee?"

"Well, I'll have to go to the Keep to double-check some of the numbers, but I think it's going to be in the neighborhood of seven thousand royals."

#dragon age #dragon age ii #fenris x femhawke #female hawke #fenris #dragon age fenris #dragon age isabela #aveline #satire #i regret nothing #i regret everything #da drunk writing circle

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krabstick32 · 4 years ago

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It’s The Little Things We Remember (collab)

We’ll Do It All Over Again - A Modern/Reincarnation AU with @trueblueoceaneyes

Welcome to the second part, or the “head” of the We’ll Do It All Over Again (Modern!AU) Collab! This Modern!AU collaboration is divided into two parts, @trueblueoceaneyes’ “It Took A While, But We’re Home Now” and mine “It’s The Little Things We Remember”. It’s about you and Giyuu meeting in a new life where the Corps and the Demons still exist, armed with the memories and experiences of a past life. Although both of them are set in modern times, and technically within the same timeframe, they are not direct sequels or immediate continuations, so it can be read alone. (Although, we would appreciate it if you read the other’s part UwU)

NAVIGATION:

PART 1: It Took A While, But We’re Home Now by @trueblueoceaneyes

Novelist Giyuu Tomioka passes off his past life as a fantasy series but shit goes down when the main heroine of his book shows up in front of him.

PART 2: It’s The Little Things We Remember by @krabstick32 (You are here!)

You’re tasked to go on a mission with the Water Pillar. He was a bit of a jerk, but despite meeting him for the first time, you already knew that - among a couple of other things.

header was made by trueblueoceaneyes and image used was by @/sinba_ on twitter

Pairing: Hashira!Giyuu x Hashira!Reader (mentioned Mitsuri x Obanai)

Synopsis: You’re tasked to go on a mission with the Water Pillar. He was a bit of a jerk, but despite meeting him for the first time, you already knew that - among a couple of other things.

Tags/warnings: There is some light angst, swearing, a semi-graphic depiction of a fight scene, and a bit of blood. If you’re not comfortable with that please do read something else uwu

Word count: 14.1k~

A/N: I honestly can’t believe I was able to work with the one and only @trueblueoceaneyes. Like literally, all of this was possible by their wonderful and amazing self, and would not exist without them (i still can’t believe how we literally wrote a grand estimate of 23k words) UwU working with her was so fun, and her writing is beautiful and i am willing to sing her praises day and night, so go check them out!! <33 BECAUSE BOTTOMLINE IS: SHE’S GREAT.

To be completely honest, both of us were freaking out with how long this is, and were crying over how we would cut it, until we said fuck it, let it be 14k words long. We thought that theirs was long, but we thought wrong lmao. Anyway, we hope you like our labor of love, and enjoy it as much as we did writing it. Please Enjoy~

NAVIGATION:

PART 1: It Took A While, But We’re Home Now by @trueblueoceaneyes

PART 2: It’s The Little Things We Remember by @krabstick32 (You are here!)

Thursday 9:37 PM

From: Headquarters

9:37 PM

Head to Ubuyashiki Tower—Oyakata-sama’s office at 10:00 PM. Meeting Assignment.

Taking note of the short message, you shut your phone and tucked it into a shirt pocket before heaving a sigh and standing up from where you were perched at the edge of a building.

Ensuring that both your Nichirin blade and Nichirin gun was tucked well onto your person, you turned around and leaned your body back, letting yourself fall as you grabbed a stray railing to hoist yourself back up.

Despite the late hour, the city was loud as you jumped from building to building. From the height you were on, it was relatively easy to hear the sound of cars and sirens, and the faint thumping of music from the bars that dotted the streets. You made sure to keep yourself hidden in the shadows and on top of the rooftops to avoid detection as you were rushing to get to the Ubuyashiki Tower in the few minutes you were notified to arrive. Thankfully, the building wasn’t far from your previous assignment, so you were able to arrive in record time, landing at the top with little difficulty as you walked towards the lone structure settled in the middle for those like you, and entered the elevator inside to go down a few floors.

Exiting the metal contraption, you were greeted by a welcoming lobby with an adjacent garden open to the crisp night air, filled with wisterias and designed with a respectably sized koi pond. Nodding to the young girl at the receptionist table, you continued walking to a brightly lit hallway cushioned with lush carpets, and wall-mounted lamps.

As you walked, you composed yourself for a moment and brushed off your skirt, using your fingers to lightly comb over your wind tousled hair. When you finally reached the large door at the end of the hallway, you took a deep breath before knocking three times and entering.

Upon your entrance, you quickly noted Oyakata-sama sitting on his desk chair and Giyuu Tomioka, a fellow Pillar, standing tall in front of the master. As per protocol and to show respect to the leader of all demon slayers, you quietly bowed and greeted the master as soon as you were in front of his desk.

“Good Evening Oyakata-sama. I apologize for being late, I got caught in a mission.”

“Raise your head.” You obeyed, and saw him smiling calmly at you, easing your nerves. “It’s alright my child, you aren’t late. In fact, you arrived at just the right time. Giyuu himself just got here.”

“Thank you Oyakata-sama.”

The master gave a small nod and gestured to the chairs the two of you were in front of. “Well, now that (F/N) is here, I have something to discuss with the both of you. Please, take a seat.”

You tossed a quick glance at the man beside you and mirrored his actions as the two of you took a seat. Upon your and his movement, Oyakata-sama clicked a button, and the room instantly dimmed as a projector dropped down behind him.

“As the both of you know, we’ve been getting reports about disappearances focused around Natagumo Prefecture.” The screen showed a sizable map with a specific area highlighted in red. “Specifically the town at the base of the mountain. It seems to be acting as the base of operations of the demon.”

He clicked at a small remote and the screen showed fifteen humans aged around ten to sixteen years old. “It’s been a month and over fifteen missing cases have been reported to the police.” The slide changed and showed seven people wearing demon slayer uniforms. “Seven of our own haven’t returned after that mission.”

Immediately your stomach twisted into painful knots upon hearing the deaths of so many innocent lives - you felt sick unto your very core. No matter how long you’ve been a demon slayer, it never gets any easier hearing a death count.

“Could it be an upper moon?” The Water Pillar asked after a moment of silence.

“I’m afraid it’s possible. I hate sending any of you into the battlefield, but I need the two of you to handle this as quickly as possible, to avoid more lives from being taken.” Oyakata-sama replied somberly. “Take the necessary supplies. You can leave at dawn.”

The two of you stood and bowed in respect to Oyakata-sama.

“We’ll update you on any major news.” Giyuu spoke, and you added “Yes, We’ll take our leave now.”

The two of you left and walked back out into the hallway, and through the reception area. The girl from before was nowhere to be seen, so once the elevator doors opened, the two of you rode in silence down to the swordsmiths' floor. A mission such as this would require the two of you to have your weapons checked and to grab any necessary items.

On the way down, you decided to engage in a conversation with Giyuu. Despite being a Pillar for a few months now, this would be the first time you were paired with the raven-haired man, or spoke to him for that matter. You wanted this mission to go as smoothly as possible.

Taking a deep breath, you started, “So, Tomioka-san, this would be the first time we're on a mission together, yeah?” You broke the silence and gave him a smile, only for the silence to stretch on uncomfortably after your words left your mouth. Thinking that maybe he didn’t hear you, you were going to repeat it until the doors opened and he spared you a quick glance.

“Uh, Tomioka-san?”

“Stay focused. This is an important mission.” He spoke, in a strong yet quiet voice, and exited with a brisk pace until he disappeared behind a corner, leaving you standing alone in the elevator to gape at his response.

You were dumbfounded. “He did not just…” you asked yourself, because how rude was it to ignore your coworker and leave them hanging? Those were the first words you spoke to him - apart from the compulsory introduction of you being the new Thunder Pillar - and yet you were promptly snubbed. Even Obanai replied to you when you spoke to him.

In your stunned silence, the doors started to close until you reached out a hand, and exited as well. Briefly, you heard a small shhk that signaled it closing, but didn’t care as you were absorbed in your thoughts, carefully picking apart the situation.

There was nothing wrong with what you said. You were only trying to engage in a conversation - trying to get along for the benefit of your mission, because nothing was worse than a tense atmosphere between a team. But then he goes and slaps your metaphorical face by insinuating that this was all a big game to you, that you’re not taking any of this seriously? You were a Pillar; as if talking to a handsome man would distract you from doing your job and exacting vengeance for those poor souls killed in cold blood.

Letting out a dignified huff, you continued walking, and resisted the urge to stomp your foot down at the Water Pillar’s unfriendliness.

In the back of your mind however, you were barely surprised. He was always like this—always putting up a front in the presence of others, always acting cold as ice, always pretending like he didn’t care even though he did care, he cared so much, all because he felt that he didn’t deserve to be happy after—

“Don’t come closer.”

You were losing breath as you tried to catch up with the raven haired male after a Pillar meeting. How was he even walking so quickly? Not to mention it didn’t look to be as taxing to him as it was for you. He was practically strolling when you were full on sprinting. He was a Pillar, sure, but so were you!

“Hey! Don’t ignore me,” you gasped as you stumbled over the uneven path, but you quickly regained composure. Giyuu doesn’t even pause for a second. “I just wanted to-”

“No thank you. Please leave me alone,” he gruffly replied. How come he didn’t seem the least bit tired? You heard he trained at a mountain, fine, but how the hell was he this fast in such a thick forest? You still couldn’t go around that quick without tripping over some root or getting hit in the face by a random branch!

Making up your mind, you go as fast as you can and tackle him. It doesn’t look like he ever expected you to do that, because he loses balance and you both go crashing into the forest floor.

Whatever you were on top of shifts and you’re forced to move. You groan as you get up, only for the breath to hitch in your throat as you find yourself staring into blue eyes.

Gods above, he looked absolutely divine.

“Why?” he grumbled as he softly pushed you off of him and sat up. “What were you trying to accomplish by doing that?”

“It’s not my fault you were walking so quickly! Who does that when you’re talking to someone?” you huffed, your cheeks feeling incredibly warm at how close you both were. He probably caught how you had gawked at him.

“Fine. What do you want?” he groaned, frowning at you. He doesn’t miss how red your face had gotten and how you couldn’t seem to look him in the eye. “Why do you keep following me?”

“We’re going to be friends.”

“...What…?” Giyuu stares as you smile brightly at him. You were practically sparkling. “You’re joking, right?”

“Of course not, you idiot. Do I look like I’m joking?” you huffed again, before getting up and dusting your kimono and uniform free of dried leaves. “We’re going to be friends even if it’s the last thing I do.”

Giyuu is completely dumbfounded, until you reach down and pull at his hands to get him up on his feet. He takes a mental note of how your hands looked so fragile and soft compared to his own, but you had pulled him to his feet with strength that did not match your smaller body frame.

“Why… are you doing this?” he whispered. He couldn’t understand.

“Well, I don’t like seeing people alone. Especially when they don’t look like they want to be,” you grin at him as you both find your way back to the village. Giyuu is quiet, both by your words and because you haven’t let go of his hand. “First off, let’s have lunch! My treat, of course.”

When you blink, you feel like you just took a sudden breath of air and the room comes back to view. What just happened? What the hell was your subconscious on about? Where did those thoughts even come from?

You barely knew the man. You didn’t know where he came from or what his circumstances were. You tell yourself to get your facts straight and effectively push back whatever that was, only leaving the memory of the conversation you just had - or the lack of a proper one, to be exact.That small thought quickly dampened the fire of your irritation, because admittedly, you believed that first impressions aren't everything - to always take them with a grain of salt. Despite how plain rude he was, you had no right nor the sufficient amount of experiences to be able to understand his character and pass judgement.

Slowly, you took a deep breath, and exhaled.

Maybe he just had a rough day, or maybe he was just shy and socially inept, a farfetched and random thought may it be. Perhaps that was just how he really was. Regardless of his personality though, you can’t deny the fact that he must be an exceptional demon slayer to be granted the rank of a Pillar, and because of that, you’d try your best to at least be respectful to him, even if he didn’t return the same courtesy.

Shaking your head, you resumed walking, and turned the same corner he did to reach the weapons room.

You wouldn’t say it out loud, but you were willing to admit to yourself that he was amazing.

The way he moved and handled the sword was absolutely unparalleled, you noted as you watched from the side. His actions were like water - the way he dodged was perfectly calculated, his slashes fluid, and precise. It was like no movement was wasted because everything was precise and deliberate. It almost seemed like he read the battle in the blink of an eye before executing an attack.

You couldn’t help but feel awed as you watched his fight. He truly was something else.

“Hey, am I really that pathetic to you? How annoying are you to turn your back on an opponent to ogle your comrade?”

From your periphery, you felt the air vibrate, and without batting an eye, you unsheathed your blade and cut off the approaching appendage with little effort. “I was enjoying the show y’know. It’s not everyday I get to see him fight,” you sighed as you turned, and slashed at air to get rid of the blood on your sword. “But you’ve ruined my fun. Might as well get this over with. So, what’s your name?”

“Are you stupid? You don’t even know me, the great upper moon six?”

“Frankly, no. Not really.” This wasn’t upper moon 6. It was strong yes, but no matter how many humans a demon ate, this was nowhere near the strength of an upper moon. Although with it’s impressive blood demon art of replicating multiple limbs, you wouldn’t be surprised if it was a lower moon.

It seemed to pause, before screeching out a loud “How annoying!” as a dozen arms lunged for you.

You quickly jumped out of harm’s way and up a decently sized branch. “That’s a pretty cool blood demon art you got there. Imagin—!” You leaped off the tree before a large snap cut you off as the demon broke the branch you were previously on. “Hey! I was talking!”

“Annoying! You’re so annoying! Shut up, shut up, shut up!”

“Ugh, is that all you really have to say?”

Crouching on the branch, you pushed your feet, and catapulted yourself into the sky. You shut out the world as you breathed deeply, focusing and positioning your body into one of your breath forms.

“Thunder breathing, First form: Thunderclap and flash.” And in a flurry of movement, you landed deftly on your feet before hearing a loud thump sound from behind you.

“Well.” Dusting off your skirt, you stood and faced the demon. “That should do it.”

“How annoying!”

Immediately, you turned around and was surprised to find the demon floating 15 feet off the ground.

“Not so pathetic now, am I? A Pillar like you can’t even kill me!” It taunted, before raising his hands and the ground beneath you crumbled.

It all felt so real. You felt the ground shake and how the earth seemed brittle - only instinct made you twist out of the way as the forest floor seemed to cave under you. A tiny mistake on your part caused you to land quarter of a meter short from what was supposed to be the edge, but once you felt a completely intact forest floor, you immediately knew that multiplying elastic body parts was not its Blood Demon Art.

You need to talk to Tomioka. This could get ugly fast without knowing which was real and which was an illusion. Your eyes immediately found him fighting, but widened in horror as you watched the demon he was fighting pushed at his shoulders and slammed his head against the ground. You felt your heart freeze as you screamed his name, not even noticing that you used his first.

“Giyuu!”

In your haste to reach Tomioka, Giyuu’s vision suddenly slowed as he watched one of the demon’s limb aim for you.

You were distracted from seeing him hit his head, and in a moment of weakness you didn’t notice the demon preparing for the kill.

It was too familiar; it felt like he’s seen this before, like he lived through this. His vision overlapped with a visage, of you wrapped in a painstakingly familiar haori, your skin pale and painted with red, his hands wet and drenched in your blood…

“Giyuu, stop, please,” you begged, your voice barely above a whisper. It hurt having to be moved around so much. You felt really tired, despite being carried.

Red. Red. So much red.

“No, no. Just shut up, please,” Giyuu could feel his lungs constricting. He was so panicked he had forgotten how to use his breathing technique. He felt like his whole chest was on fire, legs only moving due to adrenaline. “Please. We’re close to Shinobu, just-”

“Giyuu…? You’re still there, right?” your voice was so small, so unlike how he usually heard it laughing or calling for him. “Why…? Can’t I see you…?”

It was like something in him snapped.

No, I'm not letting you die again!

“WATCH OUT!” Giyuu screamed as he moved so fast that only your fellow pillars would be able to see how he grabbed his gun from its holster and aimed at the hand reaching for you.

Upon hearing his warning, you immediately flipped back, using the forest floor as a springboard to push yourself out of the way. When you landed, a solid arm got a hold of your waist and you felt yourself being pulled to a strong body, as the air brushed past the two of you.

Quickly, he pulled the two of you behind the cover of a massive tree, Giyuu only letting go of you when he took a quick glance at where the demon was cradling its hand and screaming its head off. You were breathing heavily, immediately aware of how close you were to death’s door.

“Are you okay? Did you get hit?” He turned to you as he asked, gently holding your shoulders and inspecting your uniform for any blood. Whatever he saw just now felt so real, he had to check for himself if you were alive.

You shook your head, dazed as you saw the worry cloud his eyes. “No.”

He breathed out a heavy sigh, feeling relief flood into his system before scolding you lightly. “You need to be more careful! You almost got yourself killed!”

“Sorry, sorry. But that’s besides the point. How are we going to kill it? It’s blood demon art shows some pretty damn convincing illusions.”

Tomioka thought for a moment. “We need to distract it, keep one of us at the front while the other takes the kill from the back.”

You nod in affirmation. His idea made sense. “I’ll be the distraction.”

“What? No, i’ll do i—“ Giyuu stopped talking once he noticed the sound of a clashing sword and found that you weren’t there in front of him anymore. “Sure,” he sighed before gripping his sword and jumping on the trees’ branches for cover.

He didn’t notice you fighting earlier, but as he jumped from branch to branch all around the opening, he saw that you were incredibly fast. Even with his enhanced senses, you appeared to be a blur as you weaved in and out of the demon’s clutches, laughing all the while taunting it.

“Ahh, this is fun! You should’ve put on a fight like this with me back then!” Squealing, you darted out a hand and slashed at its neck. Unfortunately for the both of you, the demon was nearly as fast as you were, and you only managed to land a scratch on its skin.

“Annoying! The way you’re jumping around is annoying!”

Giyuu wanted you to stop talking so badly, because you weren’t supposed to rile the demon up like this! Distract it sure, but not bait it to want to kill you more!

“Oh, are you getting mad already? You seem a little red there.”

“ANNOYING! STOP! MOVING!”

“Ah, would you prefer me to stand still? I wouldn’t mind! You should have said so earlier.”

And when Giyuu saw your eyes dart to his for one quick second, he immediately knew what you wanted him to do.

In an instant, he launched himself off the branch he was on as you pulled back your sword and jabbed it at the demon’s forehead.

“Water breathing First Form: Water surface slash!” Quickly, he extended his sword and slashed at its neck before it could move a muscle as he twisted his body to avoid hitting you. The leaves crunched under his shoes as he landed on his feet a couple of feet away.

“Annoying, annoying, annoying! Put me back on my body so I could prove to you that I’m not pathetic!” The demon wailed as it started to disintegrate on your sword. “He would’ve let me move from Lower Moon 1 and let me join the Upper Moons if the two of you didn’t meddle! You two will pay for this!” It threatened, as the last of its body turned into ash, and its clothes fluttered down to the ground.

The clearing was quiet save for the wind whistling past and the tree leaves rustling by.

“That was the real one right?” You whispered, slightly anxious that another one would pop up in the silence.

“It is.”

Heaving a sigh, you looked back at Giyuu and saw him walking towards you.

“Are you okay? You hit your head right?” You asked him, surprise coloring your face when he tore a portion of his suit. “What are you doing?”

Gently, he took your arm and inspected a decently sized laceration settled neatly in between your shoulder and elbow. It was deep, but it was a clean cut and it wasn’t too bad, considering that you’ve had much worse such as broken bones and dislocated joints.

“Worry about yourself first, will you?” He turned your arm carefully, making sure that his actions were slow and steady before wrapping the piece of cloth carefully and with practiced ease.

You frown. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“I feel fine. Now focus on yourself. This is pretty deep. It might need stitches.”

Though it was unlikely, you hoped that it was too dark for him to see your face clearly—it felt too warm for your liking. “I… didn’t notice.”

He tied the bandages off neatly, before answering, “You will soon. The adrenaline will probably wear off in a few minutes.”

“I’m not the best at first aid, but this will do for now. Try not to move so much until we get to Shinobu?”

It felt oddly nostalgic, seeing him worry like this a little, almost like a distant dream or a distant memory. “Thanks.”

Giyuu nodded before pulling out his phone from his coat pocket. “I’ll be updating HQ. Kakushi should arrive in a bit. Do you want to wait for them, or head back?”

You weighed the pros and cons before responding, “I wouldn’t mind waiting for them. The fight was fairly easy, but I feel drained. We could get checked too.”

“That’s a good idea,” he said as he typed another message while you sat down slowly beside a nearby tree trunk. Once he shut his phone, he followed your lead and leaned down on a tree a few feet from yours.

After a few minutes of a slightly tense silence, Tomioka decided to break it, and be the one to start the conversation.

“That… was the first time I saw you fight. You’re pretty fast (L/N)-san. It was amazing.”

“Oh?” You tried to mask the surprise in your voice. Hearing him initiate unnecessary conversation was something you weren’t used to, especially after your first conversation (if it could even be considered one) back at the Ubuyashiki tower. Was he offering an olive branch?

Regardless, you couldn’t deny the warm feeling in your chest as you looked up and automatically smiled up at him. “Well, you were doing really good yourself. I’ve never seen someone move that gracefully in a fight like that.”

At your compliment, he looked down at the ground as he tried to hide his nervous habit of fiddling with the hilt of his sword. “I’m not.”

“Oh don’t be modest now Tomioka-san! You looked amazing!”

“I was complimenting you; don’t turn it around on me.”

Laughing lightly, you let out a breathy “Okay, okay.” After deciding to not push your luck and that you’ve bothered him enough, you raised your hands in defeat before bringing them back down to your lap.

The silence that followed was definitely nicer compared to before, until he broke it again with a near inaudible whisper.

“Giyuu.”

“Hm?”

“Just… Giyuu. Giyuu is fine” he added, rubbing a hand on the nape of his neck.

Smiling widely, you turned to him, “If that’s the case, just (F/N) is fine too, Giyuu.”

“(F/N) it is then.” he spoke, feeling a sense of warm familiarity as he tested the way your name felt on his tongue.

Truthfully, he noticed when you called out his first name even in the heat of battle. It wasn’t much of a big deal back then, because the two of you were focused on staying alive and doing your job, but as he processed the fight in his head, he found that he didn’t mind, and that he actually liked how his name sounded in your voice.

As if on cue, the cracking of dried leaves and branches alerted you and Giyuu, instinct driving the two of you to grab onto the hilt of your nichirin blades. The tight grip on your swords only eased up when the familiar uniform of the kakushi moved into the clearing. There were around ten of them, seven surveying the area and taking down any evidence of the demon’s existence while there were three holding medical kits who walked over to the both of you.

They stopped once they reached a reasonable distance before bowing slightly. “Tomioka-sama, (L/N)-sama, please excuse us. We’ll be checking on your injuries.”

You muttered a grateful thanks as the kakushi attending to you started cleaning the wound Giyuu wrapped earlier. It was wrapped pretty well, so they only applied an ointment before replacing the cloth with gauze. “I apologize (F/N)-sama, I can’t suture your wound here because I’m not trained. We’ll immediately take you in the medical wing of the tower once you and Tomioka-sama head back.”

“Thanks,” you smiled as the kakushi bowed in front of you. “Hey, no need to bow, I really appreciate your help…?”

“...Tanaka Ayaka.”

“Really, thank you so much Tanaka-san.”

“O-Of course (L/N)-sama!” Tanaka said, bowing deeply in gratitude for your kind words.

As you and Tanaka argued on why she should or why shouldn’t bow, Giyuu watched discreetly, feeling the warmth pool in his stomach from the kindness you displayed. He was brought out of his thoughts when he felt the pain on his head multiply as the kakushi tending to him started wrapping gauze on his bleeding wound.

“Please bear with it for a bit longer Tomioka-sama, you have a concussion-”

Immediately, your gaze darted to the side. You weren’t eavesdropping on his conversation - truthfully, you only overheard - but when your eyes landed on a stream of blood coating patch of his hair and a portion of his pale skin you didn’t notice before, you absolutely flipped because how dare he tell you to worry about yourself first, when he was the one with a head injury!

“You idiot! You told me you were fine!”

The kakushi watched on in wide-eyed surprise (and slight fear as well) as the mighty Water Pillar looked everywhere else except at you, the fuming Thunder Pillar, who were scolding him (fairly lightly) for not telling you about his injuries.

Ayaka didn’t even argue with you afterwards.

Arriving at your estate after a mission used to be a nice moment for you, because you could rest and train at the comfort of your own home, but hearing the silent clunk of your keys resonate through the walls… you couldn’t help but feel a little cold and lonely.

It’s been a week since that mission with Giyuu back in Natagumo Mountain happened, and only a couple of hours since you left Ubuyashiki Tower. After your initial report to Oyakata-sama, he suggested that the two of you stay and take a few days off to heal your injuries at the medical floor. The two of you didn’t even resist as you were both led to adjacent rooms, showering immediately before dropping dead at the futon laid in your respective rooms. Now, you were as healthy as you could be, the laceration, bruises and scratches all healed thanks to the week of rest. Before you left, you made sure to inform the master of your recovery and thank Tanaka-san who took care of you and kept you company.

Taking off your blazer and loosening your blouse, you passed by your living room and walked into the kitchen to try and make something to appease the grumbling of your stomach. You did occasionally have your home cleaned on a schedule when you weren’t around, but moments like these were when you were a bit regretful of not hiring any at-home help.

The fridge was a welcome sight as you grabbed the handle to open the door; the contents however - or the lack thereof - weren’t as appealing because it was empty save for a wrinkled lemon, a few bottles of water, and a quarter-filled jug of milk.

“This is pathetic,” You grumbled as you recalled the moment you ate the last bit of leftovers without restocking your kitchen. Whyy.

“I hate myself,” you moaned to your empty kitchen.

Deciding to put yourself out of your misery, you walked up to your room to store your weapons and to change into a pair of jeans, and a hoodie. Once you were in something comfier, you grabbed your phone, your keys, your wallet, and a small nichirin dagger - for safety, at the off chance of getting ambushed by a demon or a human - and put on some white sneakers before locking your door and leaving your estate.

Taking a deep breath, you felt the cold night air nip at your lungs and the exposed skin of your face. The difference in temperature shook you a little, as you broke out into a jog. Pulling up your hood, you tug the strings tighter and into a cute little ribbon to prevent it from falling.

The walk to the convenience store would normally take fifteen minutes, but with you jumping on roofs and taking shortcuts you knew by heart, you were there in record time, and feeling hungrier than you did before.

The convenience store was a sight for sore eyes as the familiar ding sounded upon your entrance. Smiling at the clerk, you grabbed the largest basket and moved around the store, grabbing everything that looked appealing and piling them on as best as you can.

Once you were satisfied, you proudly walked back to the cashier and presented your precious loot to the boy in front of the register.

“Stocking up huh?” He smiled as he rang up your items.

“Yup. The lone lemon in my fridge was feeling a little lonely.” You joked as you grabbed your wallet.

The two of you chuckled as he bagged your food, pointing to the little screen of the cash register once it was done. “That would be 6,854 yen.” You gave a light nod and handed him a ten thousand yen bill. “Here, you can keep the change.”

His eyes bugged out of his sockets at the large tip “Yo, thanks, dude!”

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed familiar black hair, and a quick glance behind you took you by surprise.

“Tomioka-san! Why are you here?” You asked in surprise.

He eyed your overflowing bag and your silly attire. “Same reason why you are.” He answered. At his surprisingly sarcastic response, you quickly pulled back your hoodie, and looked him over to note that he was in a similar attire to you, though he was wearing a sweater and a cap, instead. “Although i’m just getting dinner, not the entire store.”

The remark caused you to flush red in embarrassment. You didn’t want him—or anyone really!!—to see you pig out. “Oh, um. Well, I’m just… restocking.” He seemed skeptical, but there was a ghost of a smile settling on his face.

“Okay,” He said casually as he moved past you further into the store.

Nodding at the cashier and grabbing your bags with both hands, you walked after giyuu, instinct ruling over rational thought.

“Hey,” you called after him. He turned back to look at you, causing you to stutter in your words a little. Why did you call for him? What could you say to make him stay for a little bit without making yourself look like a total fool? “I—… um, i mean, uh would you like to share my loot? I think i just bought most of their stock, and I… still haven’t thanked you for saving my life back at Natagumo.”

He raised a brow at you. “Loot?”

“The food I got,” you mumbled as you dropped your gaze to the ground and felt your face burn at your choice of words, because who in the world calls their groceries ‘loot’, except you? Ah, how embarrassing!

While you were wallowing in your misery, you missed the way Giyuu turned his face away from you and the way his shoulders shook from containing his laughter. You just looked too cute, all flushed and flustered like that, but he did his best to hold it in because he didn’t think you’d appreciate him laughing in your face.

After a moment, he composed himself, and went back to his cool and normal facade before replying a short, “Okay.”

“Great!” You beamed at him, trying to squash the butterflies in your stomach. “Want to head outside for the tables?”

“Sure. Lead the way.”

Unconsciously, you grabbed his hand after moving your other bag. You didn’t notice his face warm at your casual touch, but the cashier did, and he gave a thumbs up to a flustered Giyuu as the two of you passed by.

“Ah shit. I forgot to get drinks!” You exclaimed as you rummaged through your bags.

Giyuu watched you with a small smile. “With the amount of food you bought, I’m surprised you didn’t raid their drinks too.” He was joking, but he really was surprised. It’s like you bought everything in the store - The two of you already ate two bento boxes each, five bread buns each, three rice balls each, and had a cup noodle… each.

There was even another bag of chips open at the table, and your bags were still full!

“Is that a joke I hear?” You smiled, leaning back in your chair as you popped a chip into your mouth. “Well I didn’t expect to meet you here. I was originally going to eat at home.”

He nodded before standing and stretching a little.“Don’t worry I got it.”

“Wai-“ you were going to hand him spare change, but he was already at the vending machine two houses down the street.

You sighed and used your hands to prop your head upright. How unfair.

As he inserted a few bills in the slot, you couldn’t help but admire his profile. You always noticed him back at work. He was extremely professional, nearly passive as he was assigned missions and at the rare times you catch him training at headquarters. But as the two of you were here together in a convenience store, all of it felt so… so normal. In this short moment, you could just pretend that demons weren’t real, that you still had a family waiting for you back home, that you were just a normal twenty-one year old woman hanging out with a friend from work who you wished was a little more than just a friend.

“Cheater.” You pouted as he walked back within hearing range.

He ignored you, passing you a bottle. “Here.”

“Thanks.” You said, taking the bottle and looking at the cover. “Oh! Yuzu Juice! I didn’t know I told you about my obsession with these.”

“You didn’t.” He answered taking a seat, as you rummaged through your pockets for a bit of change.

“Really? Huh.” You didn’t seem to notice how he scrunched his eyebrows and looked at the drink carefully.

Normally, buying a drink for someone wouldn’t be a big deal, but he didn’t just randomly guess. It was almost second nature for him to pick that drink. He could almost hear a voice in his head that sounded so much like you.

You couldn’t come with Giyuu to Natagumo Mountain because you were hurt pretty badly from the last mission you went to. He had come to visit you at the Butterly Estate.

“Why are you so excited about a fruit?” Giyuu asked incredulously, as your eyes shimmered at the basket of yuzu fruits he brought. “It’s just a fruit right?”

You gasped as you hugged the basket away from him. You looked so offended that Giyuu was taken aback for a second, halfway considering an apology.

“Just a fruit? JUST a fruit?” you gasped again, more dramatically than the last, but you don’t think Giyuu understands you’re pulling his leg because he looks even more worried. “Am I actually hearing this from my own lover?”

“Why? What’s so great about it?” he asked, but you don’t miss the hidden panic underneath his voice. “Am I missing something?”

“It’s a yuzu fruit, Giyuu,” you lean in and whisper, like the greatest of secrets were being shared between the two of you. “And do you know what that means?”

Giyuu shakes his head slowly, entranced. He leans in as you motion for him to come closer.

“It means,” you whisper, before pecking his cheek and grinning as he blushes. “We can make my favorite drink.”

You laugh as Giyuu groans, burying his face in his hands as he fell for another one of your stupid jokes.

“Don’t forget, Giyuu,” You toss him a yuzu fruit from the basket before leading him to the kitchen of the Butterfly Estate. Hopefully Aoi and the other girls wouldn’t mind if you borrowed it for a bit. “I can never turn down some good yuzu juice.”

Giyuu blinks, and suddenly he can’t remember what he was thinking about just a second before. He felt like he was forgetting something very, very important.

“I… just took a wild guess.” he muttered. There was no use pondering about it now, no matter how hard he tried to grasp at the straws of his memory.

“Well, you made a pretty good guess.” Placing a hand over the cap, you opened the bottle and took a hearty sip “Ah, I love this so much! Here’s my share.” You said, offering a hand with the money.

“Oh please, as if I can’t afford to get you juice. Think of it as thanks for sharing your food with me.”

“Okay then,” because If he wanted to treat you, who were you to argue?

“Meeting adjourned. Stay alert, the issues we’ve talked about will be sent later as a mission to some of you.” The room was once again bathed in light as Oyakata-sama pressed a button which shut down the projector and automatically drew the meeting room curtains back open. You and your fellow pillars stood as Amane-sama grabbed the handles of the master’s wheelchair. “I’ll be seeing all of you at the next meeting. Take care, my children.”

All of you bowed deeply as Amane-sama closed the door shut, before the nine of you stood from the chairs situated around the large table, moving to talk to the others.

“(F/N),” you immediately felt your heartbeat faster. You would’ve kicked yourself for reacting in such a way when he called for you, but damn it if it didn’t make you feel nice.

I think my heart is broken, what the hell.

“Ah, Giyuu, are we still on for training later?” you smiled politely at your co-worker, and Giyuu faltered for a second too fast for you to have noticed before he had already recomposed himself.

“Yes, but don’t expect me to pull my punches just because it’s training,” Giyuu felt the corners of his mouth turn up ever so slightly as he watched your face flush.

“I’ll have you know that I hardly break a sweat from fighting off demons alone, so I should be the one to tell you that,” your cheeks were puffed from indignation. The words pour out of you without thinking and you don’t even realize what you’re saying anymore. “Besides, when have you ever pulled your punches? You said you’d always spar with me using everything you had so I wouldn’t die out in-”

“What…?” Giyuu’s voice knocked you out of your rant. He had a funny look on his face, like you had said something odd. You immediately backtrack to your little spiel in search of something wrong - something embarrassing - you might’ve said. “When did I…?”

When has he ever pulled his punches? I mean, it’s true, I’m sure of that, but…?

You stop. How would you have known that? This was your first training session together. What were you going on about? By the thoughtful yet confused look on Giyuu’s face, you could tell the words had not gone unnoticed.

“N-nevermind that,” you tried to salvage your pride, despite your ever glowing face. “I, uh, I don’t know what I’m saying. Sorry, I just…”

“No, it’s fine,” Giyuu shook his head and waved away your apology. There was a pause before he seemed to make up his mind. “Actually I was—“

“Tomioka-san!” You and Giyuu jump as Shinobu suddenly pops up between the both of you. You’re confused whether to be thankful for her cutting in or not - on one hand, she had saved you from more embarrassment, but on the other, you wanted to know what Giyuu was going to say. “Sorry to cut your conversation short, but we need to borrow (F/N)-chan for a little bit. This won’t take long!”

Without even waiting for Giyuu to respond, Shinobu’s already dragging you away from the black haired male. You turn to look back at him apologetically.

“Sorry, I’ll meet you in the training hall,” you see him wave at you in goodbye before Shinobu makes you turn a corner and you both enter an empty meeting room. Well, it was mostly empty, save for a couple of people.

“So, Shinobu, Mitsuri… Uzui and Kyoujuro? What’s up...?” you ask hesitantly. You don’t like the knowing looks and the mischievous grins they have on their faces.

“You tell us.” You don’t like the glint in Shinobu’s eyes as she stares you down. “I don’t think we’ve ever seen Tomioka initiate a conversation on his own.”

“Or smile for that matter.” Mitsuri added, barely suppressing her grin. Shit, didn’t she live for this kind of thing? You were definitely fucked. You need to get out or you’re dead.

Uzui hummed before getting all up in your face, making you take an involuntary step back, but Kyoujuro blocks you from taking another step. You were surrounded on all sides. “Yeah, it was weird. Did you do anything flamboyant to him?”

“Excuse me?” Did they think you pulled some sort of magic trick over him? A sort of spell? “I did nothing!”

“Nothing, she said!” Mitsuri squealed, before turning back to you with eyes glittering. “Did you see the way he looked at you? He looked like he was on cloud nine!”

He… he did?

Brushing it off, you wave off their words, because the very thought of him being genuinely happy while talking to you made you ridiculously happy. And you didn’t want these idiots to see it. You were not going to give them the pleasure of seeing you turn into a bumbling, blushing mess.

“Oh, please, if anything It’s m-” You cut yourself off once you realized that finishing that sentence would lead to an entirely different ballpark you were not willing to enter. “You know what? Nevermind. Giyuu’s waiting for me so I have to go.”

“Oh, so it’s ‘Giyuu’ now huh?” You catch their words before you make up your mind to book it. You thought you were free because you only had to take one more step to get out of this cursed room, but a strong, yet slender hand darted out to grab your wrist, effectively preventing you from walking out of this room and out of this conversation.

“Nu-uh, not until you answer us,” Misturi grinned, locking you into a hug to make sure you didn’t try to run away again.

“Guys, I swear, we need to train.” you grumbled, feeling the sweat gathering over your forehead.

Uzui tsk-ed, and placed a hand over your shoulder. Great, just what you needed: another restraint. “Look, we’re just curious. Tomioka’s flamboyant, but he’s a pretty quiet guy so we’re worried for him.”

“Aw... well, tough shit, I’m going now.” You say, finally prying yourself free from Mitsuri’s soft albeit annoyingly strong grip.

“(F/N)-chan, you don’t have to deny it.” Placing a hand over your shoulder, Misuri smiled softly at you, and you didn’t like how you could practically see the hearts flying around her back.

“Deny what?” Maybe, if you acted like you had no idea what they were talking about, they would drop it, and you can leave, and you can train with Giyuu.

But such things in life would never happen, and you were doomed the very moment Shinobu snuck up on your conversation. You didn’t like the thought of him waiting for you while your coworkers hounded you.

The four of you turned when you heard a light sniffle come from Gyomei. “Ah, to be young and in love.”

“Wh-? No, it’s not like that at all!” you tried to defend yourself, but by the look on their faces you knew you were fighting a one-sided war. They were convinced there was something going on. To be honest, the more time you spent stuck in the room with them the more you were slowly coming to terms with your own feelings. And that was not good. “Besides, we only went on one job together, so why-”

“Oh, don’t tell me you’ve never heard of love at first sight~” Mitsuri giggled, and by the look on her face you had a guess she was already planning the wedding.

“Love at first sight, my ass,” you groaned, recalling your first assignment together. “He basically told me to shut up the first time I tried talking to him. What’s supposed to be cute about that?”

“The first time,” Shinobu emphasized, and you buried your face in your hands at her knowing smile. “But from what we just saw, not only did you talk again, but he even initiated the conversation himself.”

“Not to mention you’re going to be training together,” Kyoujuro nodded vehemently. “And as far as I can remember from my time as a Pillar, Tomioka has never trained with anyone because he preferred to train on his own.”

“And I guess now I’m never going to find out what training with him is like because you guys insist on keeping me here,” you were honestly proud of yourself that you haven’t punched someone yet - but you were oh so painfully close. If not one of them, then you might just punch yourself just to escape the shame. This felt oddly claustrophobic and it was making you slowly lose your mind. “Also, when have you guys turned into detectives?”

“(F/N)-san, we would’ve let you go already if you’d just admit what was going on between you and Tomioka,” you stared dumbfounded as they all nodded, waiting patiently for your answer.

If you guys think I’m going to crack first, you’re dead wrong.

“It’s nothing, okay?” you sighed, exhaustion over this whole ordeal finally setting in. Would you even be able to train with Giyuu like this? “He invited me to train with him after I almost messed up during our mission. That’s all there is. You guys have just been looking too much into it.”

The room goes quiet, the other Pillars taking turns to look at one another, unsure of where to go from there. You shake your head as you pass by them and make your exit.

“NO! I refuse to believe that!”

Oh my god, no, please.

You look incredulously at Mitsuri as she blocks the door in front of you. You feel your eyes twitch sporadically, your hand that was already holding on to the doorknob tightening and your knuckles going white.

“Mitsuri, come on,” you groan. You weren’t too keen on saying anything (too) bad at the pink haired girl since she was honestly really nice, just ever so slightly airheaded, and getting into bad terms with her husband Obanai didn’t sound too appealing. “What more do you want from me?”

“How about the flamboyant truth, (F/N)?” your head whipped back at lightning speed at Uzui, who merely laughed at the dead-eyed smile you gave him.

“What ‘truth’? I already told you guys, I-”

“(F/N)-san, one last thing,” your head turns to Kyoujuro, who shares a look with Shinobu. You watch as something passes between them, before the Insect Pillar nods back at him with a sweet smile. Kyoujuro grins as he turns back to you. “Just do this one thing for us and I promise we’ll let you out.”

Shit. I don’t like that.

But you stand your ground. “And that would be…?”

“Can you look into my eyes and tell me that there’s nothing going on between you?” he raised an eyebrow, challenging you with his wide eyes that seemed to stare deep into your soul.

You lower your head, mentally preparing yourself. You pray to whatever higher being that could hear you to give you the strength to get through this unscathed.

Please, for the love of my sanity-

You look back to Kyoujuro, head held high. He holds your stare - his eyes were intimidating as hell - but to your relief, he backs off first after a good few seconds. He sighs, as does Shinobu.

“Fine, fine. You win, (F/N)-san,” Shinobu grumbles.

“For now,” Uzui throws you a mischievous grin as you pass by. You scowl at him.

“Whaaaaat? We’re letting her go?” Mitsuri wailed as Kyoujuro practically pried her off of the door.

“A deal’s a deal, Mitsuri-san,” Kyoujuro said.

You’ve barely taken a step out the door when a hand is placed over your shoulder. You don’t bother to turn around, scared you really might punch someone this time.

“(F/N), one last thing,” Sighing, you turn back heavily, because it feels like they’ll never let you leave, but when you see Gyomei smiling kindly at you, you can’t help but return it too. “Remember, there is no shame in admitting your feelings. Face them head on and find strength within it. You can only run from your problems for so long until you loop back to where you started, because you can never stop things that were set in stone by fate.”

Despite how drained you were feeling, you manage a genuine smile. “Understood, guys.”

Letting out a sigh, you were finally able to breathe after your nosy coworkers got all up in your business. You were glad that you were alone in the elevator, because at least now you could take a moment to compose yourself and get rid of the blazing blush before you faced Giyuu.

“Can you look into my eyes and tell me that there’s nothing going on between you?”

Kyojuro’s words echo in your head. You were unbelievably lucky for being able to keep your poker face before he cracked, because if that stare-down lasted a second longer, you would’ve burst, and confessed your feelings to them instead of Giyuu.

Snapping out of your thoughts, the doors opened to a bright wide room that smelled of wood and steel. The training hall was one of the many floors in the building and the Corps spared no expense in getting it look as it did with high ceilings, and large areas divided into varying sizes. Some areas were even designed after different types of terrain.

You spot Giyuu with his back to you, warming up in the center on the biggest mat of the entire hall. He was doing practice swings with a wooden sword.

“Hey, sorry I'm late,” You say, causing him to pause mid-swing as he turns to see you grabbing a wooden sword on the far wall and depositing your own blade beside his. He watched, slightly mesmerized as you gathered your hair into a high ponytail on top of your head. “Want to get started?”

He shook off his daze before he raised a brow at you, setting his sword tip down against the ground and leaning a bit of his weight over it. “You’re not going to warm up?”

Smirking, you say “Oh please, this is my warm-up.” You don’t give him a chance to reply as you move straight for him, sword held high.

In one effortless swoop, Giyuu had his sword in front of him blocking your swing with ease. “That’s cheating, in case you weren’t aware.”

“I know.” You smiled, before retracting and swinging again. “But I prefer to call it strategy.”

“Haaaa,” You breathed out before dropping on the floor. “I’m glad we’re on the same team. Fighting you is crazy exhausting.”

Walking towards you, he offered you a water bottle and once you took it, he sat down beside you. He was so close, you could feel the warmth radiate off him. “Likewise. You’re ridiculously fast.”

“And you’re ridiculously strong.” You smiled, taking a sip from the bottle he gave you.

The two of you were quiet, keeping each other company as the other regained their breath. In the silence, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander back to the conversation back in the meeting room.

“I don’t think we’ve ever seen Tomioka initiate a conversation on his own.”

“Did you see the way he looked at you? He looked like he was on cloud nine!”

“Oh, don’t tell me you’ve never heard of love at first sight~”

“But from what we just saw, not only did you talk again, but he even initiated the conversation himself.”

“As far as I can remember from my time as a Pillar, Tomioka has never trained with anyone because he preferred to train on his own.”

“Remember, there is no shame in admitting your feelings. Face them head on and find strength within it. You can only run from your problems for so long until you loop back to where you started, because you can never stop things that were set in stone by fate.”

All of their words passed by your head like a snapshot. It was slightly disorienting hearing the others comment on your relationship with the Water Pillar. You liked him, but you already planted it in your head that you had no chance. Because who were you kidding? One look at him, and you knew that you were out of his league. He was good-looking (though that was more of a bonus than anything), dedicated, strong, and had a dry sense of humor that could rival your own. A guy like that was bound to have someone waiting for him at home. He was too much of a catch for you to believe otherwise.

“(F/N)?”

“Yeah?” you hum distractedly, still completely submerged into your own head.

“Do you-” He started, and abruptly, your bubble of fantasies popped.

He was looking at you weirdly, an expression you’ve never seen him make, and somehow your mind managed to mix that up with him being able to read your thoughts. You just panicked, your mouth spouting off nonsense before you could process anything, trying in vain to protect yourself from rejection. “No! I don’t like you!”

“Oh.” He looked back at his folded hands before adding a short “I’m sorry.”, before you realized what you just said. Regret immediately washed over you.

“No, I mean, I don’t not like you, I-I’m not making any sense-”

He interrupted you gently before standing up and dusting off his clothes. “No, it’s okay, you don’t have to explain yourself. I understand. Sorry if you felt forced to train with me.”

Oh my god, you’ve never wanted to slap yourself harder in your life than you did in this moment.

You fucked up. You fucked up so bad.

You reach for him, trying to explain, “Wait, don’t misunderstand please, I was jus-”

“Really, it’s fine. I know I'm not the easiest person to like. Especially with how I treated you back on our first mission.”

“Giyu-”

“I’ll be leaving now (L/N)-san. I’m sorry again.”

And that was the last straw. Hearing him call out your name in such a cold voice hit you so deeply that you tell the consequences to fuck off as you stand up, and pull him back to you.

“(L/N)-san, I swear, it’s fine-” Neither of you get to hear how he ends his sentence, because you grab his shirt, and pull him closer, until your lips were pressed against his.

You felt your resolve crumble as your lips moved against his own, and as his hands reached over, cradling your face closer to his. It was so soft, so warm, and your heart ached as you felt your eyes start to sting. After a moment, the two of you pull away, bringing your foreheads close, before you spiral into a wild spiel.

“You idiot! If you would just listen!” You whisper lightly, afraid of what his reaction would be. “I like you. I really, really like you. I didn’t mean what I said. I only said that because you caught me off guard and I didn’t think you’d like me back! I’m scared of being rejected by you because you're smart, you're funny, you're nice… ”

“I didn't want to tell you but I got caught up in my thoughts, and I just… I know what I said, and I’m sorry, I'm really sorry. It might sound like an excuse to you, but you really did catch me off guard. If I could take it back I would.”

“I’m really sorry, Gi...Tomioka-san. I hope you could forgive me.” You say, before you untangle your arms wrapped around his neck, and walk yourself to the elevator, not even waiting for the inevitable rejection you’d get from him.

Pushing the doors open, you didn’t notice how the other pillars - namely Mitsuri, Shinobu, Kyojuro, and Uzui - were still situated around the room, because your only goal now was to get the bag you left earlier, leave straight for your home, and sleep.

When they saw your puffy eyes however, all of them looked amongst each other, before pushing Mitsuri closer towards you.

“(F/N)-chan, are you okay?” At Mitsuri’s soft voice, you jumped out of your skin, cradling your bag to your chest as a shield.

“W… What are you guys still doing here?” You ask, before furiously wiping at your eyes.

“You’re avoiding our question. Why are you crying?” Normally, you would’ve brushed them off, and replied in a snarky comment, but you were tired, and you just wanted your bed.

“I... Tomioka and I got into a little fight, is all.” You replied, not even looking up from fixing up your bag.

Mitsuri immediately looked back at the others upon hearing you say ‘Tomioka’, before rubbing your back consolingly. “Do you want to tell us what happened?”

You sniffed. “No, not really. I’m just tired and I want to go home.”

A quick look passed between Mtsuri and Kyojuro before the Flame Hashira walked over to you.

“And home you shall go! C’mon, (F/N), I’ll drive you back.” Kyojuro said, grabbing a hold of your bag while Misturi took your hand, leading the two of you after Kyojuro. “Yeah! I’ll make you some pancakes, and lots of other food!”

Once the three of you left, Shinobu looked up at Uzui, and nodded.

Shinobu and Uzui found Giyuu splayed back at the center training mat.

For a good second the pair thought that the Water Pillar had fainted, or something of the same degree. But upon getting closer, they noticed him looking up, dazed, with a hand over his lips. Making their way over, they sat at either side of him, waiting for him to acknowledge their presence.

“What are you two even doing here.” Giyuu blinked as he realized he wasn’t alone in the room anymore. They were looking down at him with a mix of surprise and amusement. “Did you just come to stare at me?”

“We should be the one asking you that,” two seconds into talking to Giyuu and he was already testing Shinobu’s patience. “(F/N) went back to the meeting room.”

“Yeah. She was crying flamboyantly, by the way.” Uzui nodded briskly, arms crossed and eyes closed in thought.

Giyuu couldn’t deny how his chest had tightened at the memory of you walking out earlier, “I know.”

When he didn’t speak for another few seconds, clearly having no plans to elaborate until prodded, Shinobu sighed. “Care to tell us what happened?”

Do I have to…? Giyuu scowled softly. But he might as well, since he was lost ever since you left, with no clue what to do next.

“... She told me she didn’t like me, so I apologized and moved to leave,” Giyuu’s voice was no louder than a whisper, as if he was scared someone would overhear. But the other Pillars heard him nonetheless. “But then she kissed me and told me she liked me before leaving me here.”

Shinobu would be lying if she didn’t admit she felt victorious. So you were lying. HA! But that’s a conversation for another time. Right now, you left the other half of the party lying down on the training room floor and it seemed they needed to drag him back to his feet if they wanted a straight answer from you.

“And? How do you feel about that?” Shinobu poked the side of Giyuu’s cheek, but it’s like the male was still lost somewhere they couldn’t reach as he failed to give the slightest reaction besides words.

“Confused.” Giyuu muttered mostly to himself. “Really confused.”

“I feel like there’s a flamboyant ‘But’ in there...?” Uzui honestly felt like he was getting his child to admit what he did wrong - except he had no child, he was talking to the Water Pillar, a grown man who should’ve been easy getting answers from.

Giyuu’s eyes softened at the idea of you, and the kiss from earlier, and the look didn’t exactly escape the surrounding Pillars. “I like her too. A lot.”

Shinobu suddenly stood up, surprising both males. “Well, then, you’ve got your answer. So what are you lying around here for?”

“She left, I doubt she wants to speak with me now,” Giyuu muttered, disheartened - which was the exact opposite of what Shinobu wanted to achieve.

She remembered something odd she noticed when you had left earlier, so she looked around the room and felt like she struck gold.

“Oh, she did leave, it’s definitely too late for that,” Shinobu says, brushing aside Giyuu’s sarcastic “gee, thanks”. “But I have a hunch that she’ll be returning soon.You’ll just have to wait.”

Shinobu pointed to the far end of the training room, forcing Giyuu to muster the energy to sit up to see where she was pointing to. There on the wall was your Nichirin blades among the rack of extra training swords.

“I can’t believe how stupid I am today.” You grumbled before exiting the elevator.

You were on your way home with Mitsuri and Kyojuro, when you noticed that the sword strapped to your waist wasn’t your nichirin blade, but the wooden one from the training hall. Kyojuro was nice enough to turn the car around back to the building, and pressed the hazard button on the car as he pulled up in front of Ubuyashiki tower.

“Take your time (F/N)-san, Mitsuri-san and I will wait here.” Lightly, you smile at him before grabbing the wooden sword and going into the building.

And this is where you find yourself. You were back in the training hall, warm orange light filtering through the large windows as the sun began to set. You were glad you noticed your missing sword when you did because not being prepared for a mission could cost someone’s life. Running your fingers through the wall, you open the lights and feel a slight disappointment at how empty the hall was of people - or rather one raven-haired male.

You messed up once already, (F/N). Why add to that by wishing he was here?

Letting out a sigh, you move to the wall, to where your sword was supposed to be, and jump out of your skin when you notice the Water Pillar leaning over and facing away from you towards the window.

Of course. Of-fucking-course. Because why not?

Quietly, and in hopes to avoid him seeing you, you creeped carefully along the wall, clutching your nichirin blade to your chest, as you exchanged it with the wooden sword. You turn around, thankful that he didn’t seem to notice your presence before walking to the ele-

“Why did you leave earlier?” He asks, not moving an inch from his position.

Of course he noticed you.

“I didn’t think any of us had anything else to say.” you fiddle with the blade in your hands, refusing to turn and face him. Your hands haven’t shook this much in years, the last time being when you had first fought a demon.

“Well, I had something to say,” You cringe as he turned to you, his face as beautifully stoic as you had always known.

Okay, wow. You knew he had a bit of a mean streak going on, one that died down when it came to talking to you but you didn’t really think he was mean enough to roast you for having a stupid crush. Sure, you did accidentally say you didn’t like him, but that was a lie - obviously, since you kissed him like the suicidal dumbass that you were.

“Well, I’m here now, so we might as well rip the bandaid,” you say that, but as his eyes bore into your own, you realize that you’re not ready for what he has to say and you cut in as he opens his mouth. “Before you say anything though, I just wanted to say that I completely understand if you want to stay away from me and-”

As you rambled on, you didn’t notice him walk closer. Giyuu had a determined look on his face as he grabbed onto your hands that were nervously playing with your sword, and held them in his own, softly running a thumb over your knuckles. You immediately drag your gaze from the floor and into his eyes, seeing warmth and gentleness in his blue irises.

Giyuu’s eyes never leave yours, even as he asks, “I do have something to say… If you would listen?”

You swallowed, your mouth feeling dry, as you give him a slight nod.

He breathes deeply before he speaks. “I’ll admit. I don’t really care what others think of me, as long as I’m doing my job and they’re doing theirs. I’m used to people saying I’m cold, and unlikable, but for the past few weeks, I found your company comforting, and I thought that we’ve been genuinely getting along with each other. So when you said you didn’t like me when I was going to ask if you wanted to have another match, I was really confused and hurt.”

“I’m sorry-” You interrupt, before he shakes his head and asks you to let him finish.

“So, I was really surprised when you pulled me back and kissed me. Then you go off telling me that you like me, not even 5 minutes after you told me you didn’t, and then you leave, not even letting me process anything, or telling you what I had to say.”

Giyuu stops for a moment, opening his eyes and looking deep into yours. He seemed to debate something for a moment before he decided, and took a short breath.

“If you would have waited, I would have told you that I like you too.” Your knees felt absolutely weak as he placed his forehead over yours. You could feel the rough calluses on his hands as he squeezed yours softly.

“You would have?” You ask. He nods. “Do you really?”

Your heart melts when you see his face change into a soft smile, a smile he only put on for you. “I do. I really like you (F/N).”

It felt so surreal hearing him say that he liked you too. You felt like you could fly.

“I like you too.” A small watery laugh bubbles up from your throat, and a warm giddy feeling swirls around your stomach, easily replacing the heavy feeling of regret.

You could feel the tears fall from your eyes and the blood rush to your face. You pull your hands off from his as you use it to cover the raging blush on your cheeks. “Ugh, stop making me cry. This has to be the most I've ever cried in my life.”

“And it’s the most I’ve ever been confused in mine too… but I hope it’s happy tears now?” He takes both of your hands into his left, using his other to wipe at the tears and cradle your face, like you were a priceless jewel.

“Yeah,” You hum, moving closer and letting his left hand release your hands as his arm wraps around your waist. He pulls you closer and you revel in his warmth. “Can you say it again?”

“I like you.” His smile grows fonder as you lean into his touch, and wrap your arms around his shoulders. Giyuu has never felt so content in his life.

“Again?”

“I really, really like you.” He says softly, and your mouth stretches into a smile that mirrors his.

“Prove it?” You ask, faintly hinting at what you wanted him to do as your faces move closer and closer until you were an inch apart and could feel his breath fan over your face.

“Okay,” He whispers, before he finally leaned in and kissed you again.

BONUS:

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Obanai groaned as he rolled over in the large training room floormat. You might have used wooden sticks, but it still hurt like hell.

“I didn’t know the training room floor was so cozy,” Muichiro mused, staring up at the ceiling as he was splayed on the ground. “I don’t think I’ve ever been knocked down before. (F/N)-san, help me sit up. My spine feels tingly ever since you hit me.”

You laughed sheepishly, crouching beside the Mist Pillar before helping him sit up. Giyuu, on the other hand, was standing over Obanai, looking down at the Serpent Pillar with a bored gaze.

“You told me not to hold back,” Giyuu deadpanned, bi-colored irises glaring at him from below.

Word had travelled fast that you and Giyuu were going out. And of course, since you had always been dragged into the Pillars’ shenanigans, you had decided it was time that Giyuu be a part of the group. So to warm up a bit to the idea of having him around, you had offered the idea to have a training session with everyone, doing pair up battles to save time and promote teamwork. They agreed, since they have never seen Giyuu train with you, much less have trained with him themselves.

But the idea backfired hard.

“Tomioka and (L/N) win,” Gyomei announces, a small smile on his face. He looked amused more than anything. “That’s 3 wins.”

You decided the pairs by letting four people write their names on scraps of paper and letting the other four pick from the pile. Gyomei had decided to sit this one out and be the moderator, so the numbers balanced out. And since Giyuu was the so-called “guest of honor”, the others had allowed him to pick first.

“You guys rigged it. I know you fucking did,” Sanemi grumbled.

Giyuu had miraculously pulled out your name from the pile. Sure, there were only four names, but it was still a one-out-of-four odds.

“You can check if you want, Sanemi,” you sighed in exasperation. “I didn’t do shit to that paper.”

“Bullshit,” he roughly grabs the scrap from Giyuu and inspects it, the other Pillars laughing as he nitpicks your paper.

You stand next to Giyuu, who was leaning on a wall away from the Pillars, and ask in a soft voice so no one else could hear. “Alright. How’d you do it?”

You see him smile for a fraction of a second from the corner of your eye. “You press down on your pen too much when you write, so I just felt around for the paper that had the most indentations.”

“How the fuck…?” Sanemi exclaimed, and you laughed again.

“You’re so amazing!” Mitsuri squealed, bounding up to the training room floor and glomping you. “You guys worked together flawlessly! ”

“That’s putting it too lightly,” Uzui laughed. “They flamboyantly wiped us out.”

“Yes! Truly amazing!” Kyoujuro nodded. “I’m aware of both of your prowess, but this was truly overwhelming.”

“You fuckers cheated!” Sanemi growled, walking over to the training room floor and pointing his wooden sword at the two of you. “How did you-”

“Your attacks are mostly mid level swings, aimed at the stomach,” Giyuu answers passively as he sits down beside you and Muichiro on the floor.

“Wh…?” For the first time, Sanemi is caught off guard, and so are the other Pillars, but you nod at Giyuu’s words. You don’t notice how they stared at the both of you weirdly.

“Yeah, you do,” you laugh softly, before making a slow sweeping motion with your wooden sword, Giyuu parrying it once it’s within his distance. “You swing, and then when your opponent curls up, either from pain or to try and dodge, you go for a thrust.”

When you stop talking, you and Giyuu turn to the other Pillars, who were mostly looking at you with gaped mouths. Shinobu and Kyoujuro had frozen smiles on their faces and Obanai and Sanemi were looking at you like you had force fed them rotten food.

Was it something you said…?

“Hey, (F/N)-chan,” Shinobu suddenly cut in through the silence, smiling as pleasant as ever. “How did you beat me? Tomioka-san uses hard force to deflect but-”

“You usually do thrusts. I guess because of your sword style, right?” you answer, almost impulsively. “It ends up leaving too many openings, especially if someone hits you from the side.”

“You only do slashes when you’re close enough,” Giyuu adds. “But you thrust when you’re too far away because it helps with your speed and momentum.”

You blink again, the room coming into view again, and find the others staring at you, more confused than anything.

“Tomioka-san? (F/N)-chan?” Shinobu asked, the smile gone. Shit, did you say something you shouldn’t have? “What are you talking about…? I only use a revolver because it carries my poisons better. My sword is usually reserved as a last resort, but I haven’t used it in a long time. I was a bit off today since I’m not used to it anymore, but...”

“Not to mention,” Sanemi grumbles to the side, looking at the both of you suspiciously. “I haven’t gone on any fucking mission with you guys. How the hell do you know how I fight? You stalkers, or something?”

You turn to Giyuu, and he turns to you with a confused look that probably mirrored your own. The other Pillars stared, waiting for your answer. But you blanched.

How the fuck do I answer that?

Finally, Giyuu breaks the stare and turns to the other Pillars, “Mission and Training videos.”

You blinked. And so did the others. Every single one of you had the same confused looks on your faces.

Mission and training… videos?

“Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of them?” Giyuu raised an eyebrow at the Pillars, who looked at one another, expecting someone to know. He sighs as he points up at a surveillance camera at the corner of the training room. “They’re a collection of videos in the Corps archives, mostly of the Pillars during joint training sessions or battles with the Twelve Demon Moons. They’re captured using the crow-drones or the cameras scattered inside and around the building. Demon Slayers can ask to view them for educational purposes, like learning a new breathing technique.”

You gape at Giyuu and Pillars in turn, a frown slowly etching over your face. Something told you that wasn’t the whole truth. Maybe the videos were real, but on how you knew about the other’s battle styles, well…

“There’s such a thing…?” Shinobu mutters thoughtfully, looking at you and Giyuu.

Uh-oh, looks like she doesn’t buy it.

“EEK!” Mitsuri suddenly exclaims, and Shinobu and the others jump from the shrill sound. “What if my videos are super embarrassing? I have to check!”

And she’s out the door, followed closely by Obanai who was trying to reassure her that it was okay. You’re rather surprised Obanai got up so quickly when he was just on the floor earlier.

“Shit like that exists? And I’m only finding out about this now?” Sanemi grumbled, his aura carefully getting angrier and angrier. “What if the fucking demons get a hold of those videos?”

Sanemi was out the door in the next second, yelling about giving away the corps’ battle strategies. Kyoujuro and Uzui followed, interested about seeing the videos. Gyomei took Muichiro to the clinic with Shinobu. The Insect Pillar cast you a questioning look before trailing behind the Stone and Mist Pillars.

And then it was just you and Giyuu again.

“Giyuu?” you called out softly in the silence. When you hear him hum, signalling that he was listening, you push on. “I’ve never seen those videos before. I didn’t even know they existed.”

You turn to him when he lets out a soft laugh, “I haven’t either. I read about them in a report a long time ago, but I never felt the need to see them.”

Wordlessly, Giyuu lies back down on the training mat, arms crossed behind his head. He stares up at the ceiling, looking deep in thought. There’s a question at the tip of your tongue, something you’ve always wanted to ask, but could never muster the strength to actually say outloud.

“It’s odd. Shinazugawa was right. I’ve never been assigned to go on a mission with him,” Giyuu started, still staring up at the ceiling, seemingly muttering to himself. “But I knew how he was going to move. It was almost like-”

“Like you’ve fought with him before?” you finished, and you turned to Giyuu to find his eyes already staring deep into your’s.

“That’s the thing, though,” Giyuu scowled, your image blurring at the edges. Was that a kimono you were wearing? “I’ve never trained with any of them before today. But it felt like I knew what to do. Like I’ve seen it before. Not in a video, though.”

“More like muscle memory,” you mumble, lost in Giyuu’s eyes. Has his hair always been that long? “Like my body already knew how to move on its own.”

The silence stretched on, but it was almost like time had stopped for the both of you.

“I’m not ready,” you sighed shakily, your hands wringing around as you paced in the room before the Ubayishiki garden. You could hear the yells and grunts of your fellow Pillars, mixed in with the clash of swords. “Sanemi always looks at me like I’m a demon and I think this is his chance of actually cutting my head off.”

“Relax, (F/N),” Giyuu sighed, taking your hands into his and rubbing them, trying to get the blood circulating again. “On the bright side, at the very least, he still sees you. I think he sees me as an annoying fly.”

You manage a shaky laugh, and Giyuu takes it as a small victory before making you look him in the eye.

“You’ll be fine, but if you need help,” he smiles softly and you don’t miss the mischief in his eyes. “These are just some things I’ve noticed when he tries to attack me…”

You blink, and you're back in the training room. Where were you just now? There wasn’t a room like that in the whole building. It was old, like the traditional Japanese houses you’d see on T.V. and books. But Giyuu was there, and so were you and the other Pillars, apparently. Your eyes find Giyuu’s face again, and he looks just as confused. Did he see that, too…?

“You know, (F/N), there have been moments where I feel like I’ve seen them happen before, especially when I’m with you,” Giyuu starts hesitantly. You wouldn’t think it weird, would you? “I know for a fact they haven’t, Shinazugawa and Kocho was proof of that, but they just feel so real. And I couldn’t explain them.”

You think of his words for a second - they were exactly what you felt - and nod for him to continue. “But now I wonder - I always push them away because I don’t remember them happening, but now that I think about it, just because they haven’t happened from what I remember, doesn’t mean they never happened, at all.”

“Don’t remember...but doesn’t mean they never happened…?” you whisper, the question you’ve wanted to ask threatening to break out. But looking at Giyuu’s eyes, the wall you’ve been building around to keep your thoughts in place are broken down. “...Like in another life...?”

The question hangs in the air for another second before Giyuu’s face breaks into a small smile and he lets out a small laugh. He turns away from you, and you’re left confused all over again.

“You should see the look on your face right now,” he says, and you turn red at the realization he’s laughing at you. “It’s priceless. Sorry, but you’re really cute.”

“You…!” you tackle him, straddling him and lifting him by the collar of his shirt. “Were you just making fun of me?”

Giyuu stares at you fondly, basically confirming your question. Your blush gets darker as you stand up wordlessly and pack up your belongings. You couldn’t believe he was just pulling your leg! And you fucking fell for it!

Your cheeks are puffed up in anger as you walk out of the training room. You hear Giyuu’s footsteps and his voice calling out for you, but you don’t make the effort to let him know you noticed him.

When you step out of the building, Giyuu finally catches up to you, holding on to your hand.

“Okay, I’m sorry,” he said. You frown at him hard and he responds by raising his free hand in surrender. “I really am. Sorry for laughing.”

You pout, before returning his grip. You suppress laughing at the relieved look on his face. “You’re paying for dinner, I’ll have you know.”

The two of you walk in tranquil silence on your way to your favorite restaurant. You don’t notice Giyuu’s loving stare as you walk hand in hand. For a second, you’re both walking back from a mission. Your kimono and uniform were battered pretty bad, and you had a bruise at the corner of your mouth, but you look up at him and smile.

You turn to Giyuu in surprise when he suddenly squeezes your hand. “Giyuu…?”

“If it really was another life,” he whispers, and you had half a mind to tell him off for trying to pull your leg again. But at the misty look in his eyes - the same one you stared at earlier in the training room - you shut your mouth. “I’m glad I found you again.”

You smile softly, squeezing his hand back. “Yeah, me, too.”

161 notes · View notes

iwantitiwriteit · 4 years ago

Text

Love Lockdown - Part 3

Lovesick

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Summary: Chris braces himself for his FaceTime with you.

Warnings: Angst, Pandemic backdrop, Profanity

Notes: First In My Feelings Monday™ on books! Hopefully there’ll be more musings as the weeks go on, but I loved the whimsy the mindset added to me day! 🥰 This part was kind tough to write cos it required me to get into an opposing mind frame from the Reader, but a fun challenge nonetheless! Read the previous part here!

As much as he loved Winter in Boston, it was Spring that really captured Chris’ heart.

He’d been watching the beautiful day pass by outside his home office window while he took a few remote meetings with his team. Lockdown didn’t mean shutdown, for Chris at least, as he’s in preparation mode for an upcoming virtual press junket.

However, as soon as those glorious words, “That’s all for today,” were uttered, he upped and gathered his jacket, Dodger and headed for the front door.

“Going for a walk!” He called over his shoulder, his way of saying he’d be back soon.

“Alright, let me grab my jacket!” Scott said in response. Chris sighed and laughed to himself as he waited by the door for his brother. “What?” Scott asked when he got to Chris, who was shaking his head at his brother’s self-invite. He just laughed lightly as they bounded for the street, locking the door behind them.

It took Chris some growing up to appreciate this season. Truly appreciate it. But he’s so glad he does now. There’s a polarity in its elements that make it unique from the other seasons.

The bright sun peeks from behind thick clouds every so often, fully exposed and giving light gloriously. The flowers, shy and budding in March, are now in April, with just a little time, bold and in bloom. The trees billowing in the cold wind are unaware of their own fierce presence, so gentle in their saving grace that is their shade.

Kind of complex, Spring in Boston. Could be perceived as annoying in its inconsistency of temperature within a 24 hour period; cold one part of the day then hot the next. But he loved that not everyday or every hour was the same. Kept him on his toes in a way.

He couldn’t help but imagine how you’d like it here at this time of year. How he’d like you here with him. To have you on this walk right now. To hold you close when the sharp wind cuts through, chilling you both. You’d say what you always say when you snuggle up to him for warmth; that your southern bones feel the cold more than he does.

Maybe it’s true. Or Maybe it’s a lame excuse to be closer to him. Either way, he’d never complain. He loves it. He loves you.

Chris smiles to himself at the thought. Yeah, you’d love it here in the Spring. Definitely more than you did in December. What a start to a shit show that turned out to be. Chris hates to think about it. But his brain can’t help but go back there sometimes.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Scott asks, walking alongside his brother.

Chris lets out a long breath. He’s back there right now. But it doesn’t start and stop there. December makes him think of January. January makes him think of February. Then March, and before he knows it, he’s been through the chain of events that led you two here: Him in Boston, and you in Tennessee. In love but hurting from it. In the midst of a pandemic? Your relationship is just as uncertain as the end to the world’s madness.

Chris kicks himself at the painful memories. Shaking his head, he looks over to Scott who is patient as his brother finds his words.

“I’m thinking that despite the craziness of the last few weeks, months even, and being on lockdown...”

“Uh-huh…” Scott says knowing there’s more

“In an odd way, I’ve felt more free than I have in a while.”

“How’s that?”

“Well… hasn’t it been kinda great being, ya’know, solo...?” Chris eludes, not wanting to say the actual words.

“Huh? Oooooh!” Scott says as he catches Chris’ drift.

Chris won’t lie; the last 3 weeks away from you have been headache free. The bachelor lifestyle coming back to him with ease. He’s spent enough years on his own to know how to revel in the perks of singleness. No side eyes when he’s yelling at CNN or football, no being told to do stupid, necessary chores that can wait til he’s ready, and no one to get hurt when he’s inevitably fucked up in some way or another.

“Only problem is, I’m the only one of us who’s actually single.”

“Right… I know, and don’t get me wrong! I feel really lucky she hasn’t left me yet, and that she’s stuck it out with me for this long. I really can’t imagine my life without her.”

“But…” Scott prompts.

Chris is hesitant as he starts again. “But lately, guiltily...I wonder if that would be such a bad thing. If we were to… ya’know,” Chris makes weird hand motions that Scott eventually interprets as “breakup”.

“It’s a wonder you’re any good at charades.”

As much as he feels bad and knows he could’ve done some things differently, handled some things better, Chris is sooo frustrated with you.

“Why won’t she just tell me what she’s really thinking— exactly what she’s feeling. I’m not a fucking mind reader! You would think it’d be easy for her, considering what she does for a living, I don’t get it man.”

Scott waits for his cue for Chris to ask the golden question, but when he doesn’t hear it, he looks over at his older brother. Chris looks every bit a boy that’s absolutely lovesick, kicking the rocks in his way, pouting down at his feet. “You want my opinion?” Scott eventually offers.

“Please. I don’t think Dodger’s gonna give me anything good.” Chris bends down to pet the pup quickly before continuing their walk

“I think she has told you what she’s feeling— just not explicitly from her mouth.”

“If that’s the case, then her shutting down every time we’re addressing an issue is supposed to mean…?”

“You’ve got to give her some room to emote, cos you can be a bit, well, you know.” Chris did know, but it didn’t make it sting any less.

Accusations from past girlfriends of him not listening, only hearing, what’s been communicated have not gone unnoted. That, coupled with his bubbling emotions have led to many a breakup in his life. Relationships demoted to damn near flings the way women have come and gone from his life. But what he has with you couldn’t just be another relationship for the books. Chris wants to break the cycle with you… for you.

“I thought I was doing that when I suggested we social distance separately. Then last night she made it very clear that I was very wrong.”

“I could’ve told you that you were very wrong. Tax free.” The two men make their way back to the house. Looking at his brother before him, all sad and distraught, Scott was not going to let him start his own pity party.

“I don’t want to lose her. She’s the one. She’s my one. I know it.”

“Then don’t lose her.”

“When’s anything EVER been that simple?”

“I’m not saying it is, but if you know she’s the one, don’t give up so easily bro. Try everything in your power to give her the relationship she deserves. And she will do the same for you. But, if the problems still persist, then maybe, it would be for the best if…” Scott trails off as he sees his brother’s eyes start to look like those of the dog by their feet. “Look, I’m just telling you from personal, very recent experience, that it isn’t all that bad being friends on the other side of it all.”

“Ugh, God! I think I’d rather have a limb caught off and force fed to me than try to be friends with her if we ever… I can’t even say it.” Chris pokes his tongue out like he’s tasted something awful.

“You’re being hella dramatic right now.”

“But bro, I’m not even exaggerating!” The brothers laugh as they walk up the driveway. As they cross the threshold of the front door, Chris’ reminder for your FaceTime call sounds off, echoing in the foyer. He turns it off and looks up at his brother. “That’s the call to my love’s fate” he tries to joke.

Scott wears a soft, empathetic smile “Everything’s gonna be just fine. No matter what.”

Chris tries to wear some optimism, but the possibility of this being the end of your relationship tugs at him. He won’t let it get a hold of him. “Thanks, bro. I’ll see you later. And DO NOT eavesdrop.”

“Whaaaat??? I would never!” Scott feigns offense. Chris looks unconvinced. “Dodge and I are gonna enjoy an afternoon movie, isn’t that right Dodgey Wodgey?”

“Dodger’s not even buying it. Stop it.”

“Yeah, that was weird. See ya later, man.”

Chris takes the stairs to his bedroom two by two. He sets up his laptop, making sure to plug in its charger; wouldn’t want it to die on this call.

He paces around the space in front of his desk. As many video calls as he’s done the past few weeks, none of them were as important as this one. Nervousness washes over him. He decides to embrace it; it’s natural, and a good sign. He still cares. He can only hope you do, too.

The digital clock strikes 2. It’s time.

He calls you, the laptop ringing for a while longer than his beating heart can take. His heart sinks and doubts creep in. Is this is it? Is she done with me? No fight, no… nothing? This can’t be it. But then the ringing ceases and the screen says “connecting”, a sigh of relief involuntarily escaping him.

He can’t help but beam, proud he knows you better than his negative thoughts do. Happy that you wouldn’t leave him high and dry.

Then he sees your face. Your beautiful face. The natural lighting of your room bouncing off your gorgeous, brown skin. Your hair is the perfect combination of defined curls and loose wisps, neat but not overly so. You are the epitome of effortless, natural beauty. He almost feels like he’s seeing you for the first time.

“Hey baby! For a second there, I thought you wouldn’t answer,” he nervously chuckles.

You smile at him but it doesn’t reach your eyes. He senses your apprehension, even through a screen. He hadn’t done a good job of setting up this conversation with peace of mind for you, now that he thinks about it. “We need to talk” is almost always followed by some heavy, unwanted shit. Not that this talk will be easy, but he most certainly doesn’t want you thinking the worst. He genuinely wants to talk; explain his fuck ups and frustrations. And try to listen.

He figures since he’s put you two here, it’s his job to steer this ship to calmer, nicer waters. Here goes. He tries some small talk, anxiety making him ramble. “So, how’s the… weather? That’s a stupid— ugh, I’m sure it’s, like, hot. You’re down south, where it’s hot—”

“Chris?”

“Yes honey?”

“I don’t wanna do this with you.”

There it is; his worst fear. Losing you. No. He was determined to let his optimism win. Determined that his ears were deceiving him in this moment.

“What do you mean?”

Chris is too all in to go down without a fight, and fight for you he was prepared to do.

Part 4 | What’d you think?

#chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fan fiction #chris evans imagine #chris evans one shot #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x poc!reader #chris evans x woc #love lockdown series #chris evans series

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erikthedead · 4 years ago

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entry #1

I have finally acquired Microsoft Word! I really didn’t want to pay a monthly subscription for it, but it is the best writing software out there. Every time I mention myself spending money, a small prayer goes out to all the tax-paying members of the nation, since all my money comes from Universal Credit, which is the United Kingdom’s cute name for a type of welfare money. I much prefer just calling it ‘welfare,’ or even better ‘NEETbux,’ which I discovered used in online forums as a word for the money people receive when they are not in education, employment, or training (N.E.E.T), which has been my status for about two years now. Then ‘bux’ is just ‘bucks,’ obviously. Bucks is just money, obviously. Many people receiving Universal Credit also work as well; they just receive less - enough to supplement their wages if they aren’t getting enough money from their jobs.

My last job was working in a busy restaurant for just about a year. Before that I was in university, but I dropped out after only completing the first year out of three. Before that, I worked as a carer for elderly people for just under a year. Before that, I was in college for two years, and I actually passed the course. I only passed it because the subject was forensic science, which included lots of writing about psychology, criminology and lab reports. I was never that good in the lab practically. I got flustered and bewildered in such a bright, sanitary environment that required precision and organisation to achieve the desired results. When it came to scrambling together a report to submit the next day though, I was pretty golden. I only dropped out of university because I had a mental break down as a result of poor mental health and just the fact that going outside and interacting with people was and still is incredibly exhausting for me. After a year of doing that consistently it seems, I get fatigued. In the end I got an average grade for the college course because some of the work was difficult, or boring, and that fatigue was hitting me by the second year. However, the grades I was getting on my university assignments for psychology and sociology were anywhere between top marks and good marks (Between 1st – 2:2 in UK student language). I never once read the feedback from the tutors who marked my work. All I needed to know was the mark was okay and moved on to the next assignment, firstly because I was arrogant and secondly, I couldn’t handle criticism. The mental break down itself involved me walking through the campus one day only to find myself slipping into a dissociative state. Nothing had happened immediately prior to trigger this, it just happened. It felt strange, like I wasn’t really real, and neither was anyone else. Everything felt distant and off, both externally and internally. It was frightening and strangely peaceful, as if at any moment someone could come in and blow the building up and I wouldn’t even react to it. That wasn’t normal. The only way to snap out of it was to lock myself in a toilet cubicle and lightly slice my arm with a tiny knife I had on my keys. It worked, but now I was in floods of tears and a state of distress, so I went to the student welfare services to see if they could help me or at least let me sit somewhere nicer than a toilet while I calmed down. It was an open office waiting area at the side of the bottom floor of a building that matched the layout of a prison ward with the stairs and the upper floors creating a square boarder of classrooms, that would have been cells for a prison. More for practical purposes than for aesthetic reasons, I’m sure. Still sobbing, and hiding my self-inflicted cuts, I asked the person behind the desk if I could ‘see someone,’ which is one polite British way of asking for help. After waiting a little while, a plump middle-aged lady appeared and brought me into her own little private office to ask me what had happened. She gave me her sympathy and asked me about my life and my history, and gave me some more sympathy, while relating her own experiences to mine. She was a good counsellor, basically. But having a good counsellor on site wasn’t enough to keep me on the course after that incident. Getting a degree just wasn’t worth it at the time. Being such a depressed and pessimistic person, I was only actually doing the course for ‘fun’ anyway, not for the hope that it will bring me a better future. Until recently, I never saw a future for myself. It wasn’t even a bleak future I imagined; it was just blank. I couldn’t even conceptualise it.

It’s not a mystery where all my misery came from. My childhood was a bit inconsistent to start, and from what I’ve observed, children need consistency more than anything to develop promisingly. I remember reading a study once that found children raised by parents who were consistently abusive to them were in fact more mentally stable than those raised by parents who could be lovely one day and nasty the next. It was not knowing what treatment they were going to get that did them in. It makes sense because if you’re always expecting to face a thrashing or a shouting at every day, you can at least prepare for it and train yourself to deal with it. We’re very adaptable creatures, but we need to be able to recognise patterns around us to do that. If there is no pattern, then how can we possibly make predictions? Without predictions, how can we possibly feel secure about our future? Having said all that, I was never abused in any way growing up, but I was sometimes neglected by my young mother, who was only 16 when she gave birth to me. Of course, it’s understandable now, but from a child’s perspective all you think is ‘why doesn’t my mum want me?’ When she sends you to your room for no reason and tells you not to come down for hours at a time. I asked ‘why’ a lot. Never got a good reason. I’m sure plenty of people who were raised by a drug-addicted parent can relate to this. She herself was a good mother, not amazing, but good. She told me she loved plenty of times, she gave me what she could, including a little sister when I was three years old. I think it was shortly after her birth that mum started taking heroin. It was only during drug education in year five of school (I would have been about 11) that I put the pieces together. She hid her addiction pretty well from us, but I sometimes found pieces of tin foil lying around the living room with lines of black residue on them, and once or twice witnessed her junkie friends ‘nodding off.’ There’s also a clear memory in my mind of being taken along by her and my nan to score some brown out of town and I can picture in my head the massive set of old-fashioned scales this drug dealer had sat on his coffee table right in front of me. I was too young to understand any of their lingo, though. Yes, I mentioned my nan, my mum’s mum. They got smacked up together, and they eventually got clean together. I’ll never know the details of how that came about because neither of them are alive anymore to ask. Mum died when I was 14 by taking an overdose of her methadone, then nan died when was 21 of a heart attack, likely due to the COPD she had developed from years of smoking.

My nan was so full of love for my mum, my sister and me. Some of my favourite childhood memories are being snuggled up in bed listening to her read me stories, which she did with flare and enthusiasm. She would affectionately call us her ‘wobblies,’ and give us more hugs kisses than we ever wanted. My mum definitely inherited her loving nature from her. But love on its own isn’t enough to keep kids clothed and fed and able to go out and do things. This is where the legend that is my grandad comes in. He is still going strong at 66 years old as of writing. God knows where I’d be without him. He’s been my father figure all my life since I never knew who or where my real dad was. He’s hard-working, reliable, responsible and strong. He supported us immensely despite not relating to him biologically. My biological grandfather was a free-spirited busker who liked to smoke and drink a lot, who I only met a hand full of times before he hanged himself when I was 19. His death did not affect me, but my mum’s and nan’s certainly did. I’ll probably have to see my grandad die as well eventually, and I don’t dread anything more.

Although I started off describing my family background by saying it’s obvious where my source of misery comes from, I must emphasise that my family is not the source of my misery. My childhood overall was pretty forgettable. I only have a few memories and they’re fond memories, despite the unfortunate situation I just described. Even getting my face ripped open by the neighbour’s dog when I was six didn’t faze me. It was only when puberty hit me that life started to feel horrible, and it just got worse.

I was an early bloomer, if blooming is what you call it. I call it mutating. I started getting hairy and growing tits when I was 10, and got my period about a year later. Now THAT is a traumatic memory. Waking up and going for a morning wee as usual, sitting down on the toilet and being overcome with horror at the sight of blood covering my pyjamas, realising there’s only one place that could have come from, then investigating the source only to confirm ‘Oh shit, I’m bleeding from between my legs!’ I was living with my nan and grandad at the time and I stayed there (or here, since I’m still living in the same house as of writing) under their guardianship while mum sorted herself out. After the shocking discovery of blood, I immediately ran into nan’s bedroom to wake her up. I vividly remember what and how she responded to me. With a sigh of what seemed like unsettling disappointment she said “Oh, darling, I’m sorry, I’m afraid you’ve got your period.’ I wonder now if she said it like that because she felt guilty for not warning me about this, as she should have. Someone should have. In all fairness I was young, but the other kids in my year at school were soon popping into adolescence alongside me, so I thought that soon enough everyone else would be going through what I was going through, but that wasn’t the case. I was bullied for having chronic acne. I was also a bit of a chubby boffin, but it was mostly the acne that people targeted me for. The girls shaved their legs once they started to get hairy, and I remember thinking ‘Damn, I suppose I’ve got to do that too,’ despite never wearing a skirt. They also seemed to relish in showing off and comparing their bras in the changing rooms, while I hid away as very best as I could. Make-up was a constant battle between students and teachers because they all wanted to look pretty, but it wasn’t allowed in middle school (Year 5-8), so luckily, I had an excuse for not wearing it. I’d regularly complain to my family about hating going to school, and how depressed I was, but it was all put down to teenage blues. ‘You’ll be alright once your hormones settle down,’ I was told more than once. I remember my nan telling me I would miss going to school when I was older and so far she’s been proven wrong.

#life #life 1 #ramblings #transgender #diary

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eternalcantarella · 5 years ago

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Entropy - Chapter 1: Siege - Joker/Reader

Entropy

Summary: We all seek for some measure of uncertainty. Working against the mob is a dangerous game, you might as well be signing a death warrant. You would think it was all by a stroke of chance, the multiple run-ins with Gotham’s Jester of Genocide. When crooks begin to make more sense than do-gooders ― that’s anarchy. He’s no ordinary crook, however. And he’s still wrong. At least that’s what you'd like to tell yourself.

Word count: 10.4k

A/N: First entry, just felt like contributing something to the Joker fandom. This fic is multi-chaptered, and the main pairing in this is Joker/Reader. TDK/Ledger Joker specifically. We follow the story of our reader who is a junior data analyst working in the corporate world, trying to expose Lau for the fraud he is. Of course, meddling with the dichotomy of lawful good and evil would naturally lead to her butting heads with the Joker sooner or later. Somewhere along the way, she is left questioning the validity of her moral code and ends up trading answers with the Joker himself. The goal, of course, is to prove each other wrong. I didn't feel like creating another original character, so I used John Blake from TDKR for her colleague. Apologies for the non-canon compliance regarding John Blake. Rated T for now, but will probably be escalated in future. Gonna be pretty slow burn with build-up, if you're into that. Enjoy!

Available to read on AO3! Check my blog description for link to my AO3.

###

“That is why I propose that we continue this joint venture between Lau Security Investments Holdings and Gotham Press Holdings.”

The lone presenter clasped his hands together, ending off his presentation.

“I firmly believe that it is in both our best interests to do so, and it is what’s best for business.”

Reservedly, a light smattering of applause pulsated through the board executive room. You looked pointedly towards the man to your right, typing furiously into his laptop. Chewing your rose-stained lips while you collected your thoughts, you knocked a pen absently against your coffee cup. Subdued murmurs and discussions could be heard as a low rumble across the room, not long before the presenter opened the floor up for a question and answer segment. Multiple hands shot up, competing for the attention of the corporate powerhouse.

The room smelled a mixture of two distinct smells, cologne and freshly ground coffee. You recalled that you had silently muttered a ‘thank you’ to no one in particular earlier this morning, when you found out the ancient coffee maker had been replaced. Perhaps the company was lucky enough to have bosses who listen to their employees’ caffeine needs and have no problem shelling out for a new and improved machine. The room was painted a bluish gray from top to bottom, with tall glass windows teetering on the edge of an unhindered view of Gotham City.

You sat round a large conference table with people whose suits probably cost more than your monthly rent. Board meeting perhaps would be the right name. Dress shoes, egos, no smiles that weren’t plastered on, or opinions unfiltered enough to contribute anything significant to the discussion. A conglomeration of people who almost deliberately attempt to create the most monotonous environment and experience for working possible.

“Eight percent annual growth, huh. A little too good to be true.”

You craned your head towards the young man beside you while maintaining your gaze on the data projections presented on your laptop screen. You received a hum of assent in response to your subdued remark. The sound of his dry hands rubbing contemplatively against his chin accompanied afterwards. The tapping of your pen got harsher and more deliberate, as you narrowed your gaze on the lone presenter, none other than the founder of Lau Holdings himself.

The data simply did not make sense. Even with the vast economic expansion of China, the numbers seemed at least a little bit inflated. Your hand tensed as you shifted forward in your seat, smoothing out your blue pencil skirt. Your partner seemed to have caught sight of this. His hand darted to press over yours in a flash. Slightly startled, you flashed him a look of annoyance.

“Now listen, we’re not here to change anyone’s minds, calm down.”

Seemingly easy-going, his soft words still conveyed an undertone of warning. Indignancy blossomed in your chest as you clenched your jaw shut. Your findings and suspicion over the past months were almost in fruition. How dare he tell you how to do your job. You gave one last defiant glare at your coworker and then whipped your head around, zoning your focus in towards Lau. You raised your other hand and caught Lau’s gaze, as he gestured an open palm towards you.

You regarded each other coldly, his eyes devoid of any signs of sincerity save for an icy smile for the sake of pleasantries. As you stood up, you could see from the corner of your eyes that your partner had so kindly sank back in his chair defeated, resting his elbows on the table with his head in his hands. A little too melodramatic for your tastes, even for someone like you.

“Thank you CEO Lau for the wonderful speech. I’m going to cut to the chase and raise an issue here. Frankly speaking, your powerful economic potential, while surely enticing to keep working with, is a little concerning.”

Lau’s smile showed cracks in its facade. Perhaps this was an unexpected little wrench in his plan. Somehow you took victory and pride in gaining a reaction, no matter how small, out of a cold and calculative man of his calibre, and it took all your will and strength to maintain a stoic composure without your lips curling into a slight smirk.

“Surely your company had to have had a hefty tax levied on this revenue you’ve raked in. Not to mention, upon further assessment it seems that Wayne Enterprises has yet to conclusively accept your business proposal to them. Not to throw insult to your endeavours, but is this as promising, or stable, as you make it out to be?”

Perhaps you are assimilating to become one of them, the beautiful people, what you called them. Perhaps you had let your ego show a little bit too much. But you’d be damned if you didn’t feel badass standing up to a multinational company giant like this, in front of other multinational company giants. It’s not every day you let an opportunity like this be passed.

You felt a collective shift of heads as you suddenly felt about ten pairs of eyes lock onto you, but it felt like ten thousand. Under the magnifying glasses of scrutiny, you felt like you were encapsulated in a glass display as you were studied and picked apart by higher forms of life. You were an alien. An alien who spoke a language they refused to understand and come to accept. A pregnant silence fell over the room and the stares were too much. It was as if they had a morbid fascination with you, patronisingly waiting to watch you fail. Incredulous smiles of pity and disbelief that they failed to hide were spotted on a few in the crowd and you felt the dread pool in your stomach. You tried to maintain the puff of your chest but your fidgets merely deflated it, as you kept your gaze straight on the presenter, unable to look him in the eye.

You could see a visible twitch of his neck as you stared at his grey dress suit, straining a smile on his face. His breath had seemingly gotten heavier and he tongued the side of his mouth, clasping his hands together. He cleared his throat, and only then had you mustered the courage to look him again in the eye. Subtle shades of malice roamed dangerously behind his onyx eyes.

“I will say this once and once alone. We are undoubtedly a legitimate business. And I will not stand for anyone questioning the integrity of my establishment.”

This was a threat. No doubt. You felt hot and humiliated, and nothing beats being shamed in front of the board of directors, speaking of whom, shared panicked glances shifting between each other before one of them dismissed the meeting. It was a walk of shame as you and your partner were singled out by a hand gesture to the front of the room, while everyone sashayed past you, their glances lingering far longer on you two than what was necessary, with the CEO of Gotham Press Holdings watching you reproachfully. A reprimanding was in order, you supposed. CEO Lau had been escorted out of the executive meeting room by other directors in hopes of coaxing him to calm down. You and your partner you’ve unintentionally dragged through the mud stilled in front of the man in control, CEO Loeb.

“Did I hire you to do something so incredibly stupid? For God’s sake you two are here to take care of our financial transactions and fill up board meeting spaces. Nothing more.”

The bite was stinging. It felt like you had been slapped across the face. The welling of tears could be felt behind your eyes but you refused to let them show. You stared at your chief executive officer’s forehead, with shallow lines that ran horizontally across them. His brows which resembled caterpillars were furrowed deeply as he found it difficult to find the right words to say to you without uttering a string of expletives, which you admittedly did deserve. You buried your gaze deep into his crown of white hair as a form of distraction and you hoped dearly that he would show just a shred of mercy.

“Financial Consultant Blake, I hope you understand your place and educate your little Junior Data Analyst lady friend.”

Your coworker clenched his fists and nodded.

“You young people always have an inflated sense of self-importance. Keep your mouths shut next time and this is the last warning. Keep treading on thin ice, both of you.”

With that, he stormed off, leaving you and your partner. The chestnut-haired man, at a loss for words, shifted his weight and looked at you. He tried to say something, but refrained from doing so upon seeing your pathetic state of emotions. You desperately tried to keep it all together, the rage of indignancy staining a crimson tint on your face and embarrassed mortification flushed against your neck hotly.

“Listen, John…”

He looked down and placed a hand on your shoulder, an obligatory act of comfort towards you despite feeling quite frustrated himself. Tears beaded at the corners of your eyes as you blinked them away. You will not cry. You were a strong woman. A mantra you meditated whenever you felt the urge to break down.

“I’m, uhm, just really sorry. Really sorry that I dragged you into this. I... I’m just so goddamned naive and selfish. And I don’t know why, but I just-”

You took a deep breath and shut your eyes, before reopening them, willing the constricting feeling back down your chest.

“I just felt the need to prove something.”

He let out a huge sigh and pat his hand two times soothingly on your shoulder. As if to tell you it was okay, but he was still mad. He brought his other hand to his temples and closed his eyes. His jaw shifted around absently, possibly to ease the tension that was there from clenching it too tightly. There was really nothing much he could say to you. After all, he did warn you, but he was nice enough not to say ‘I told you so’.

After getting the apology off your chest, the humiliation subsided slowly like a beach wave into a dull headache. You took your hand to his wrist and squeezed the top of it reassuringly, to let him know you would be okay eventually. He took this as a sign for you both to take your leave, away from the sterile walls of the meeting room that seemed to cave in on you.

As you turned round the corner of the large glass doors of the meeting room, you nearly bumped into the CEO of Lau Security Investment Holdings. It had seemed that he had left something behind in the room. You were face to face with him, widening your eyes and noting to yourself that he was a man of short stature. There was a brief moment where time seemed to slow down around the two of you and you two were the only ones on this plane of existence. There was nothing but a look of disdain on his face. A subtle twist and contortion of his face, the corner of his lips tightened and raised on one side of his face. His eyes were devoid of any spirit, seeming to look through you instead of looking at you. Nothing but pure unadulterated disrespect and contempt for you. Small and worthless you were, this was your standing in this world of beautiful people. You were fundamentally different from all of them. Fundamentally loathsome.

And you’d be damned if you didn’t confront this head on.

You hardened your gaze with eyes of defiance with lips suggesting the hint of a snarl. Something about the look he gave you re-ignited the flame within you snuffed by shame, and it showed through your eyes.

And just like that time sped up for you, and you were thrown back into the normalcy of the rush of office life. John Blake watched you and let out an audible groan.

“You really don’t know when to give in do you, kid?”

While visibly frustrated, a little smirk played at his lips, clearly amused at you and the turn of events in spite of himself.

“Always bursting in, castle crashing like the siege engine incarnate you are.”

Clicking your tongue in annoyance at this long-time God awful nickname bestowed upon you by none other, you hastened your speed with strong strides, having done nothing but prove that nickname to be characteristic of you today. He kept up the pace, noting to himself that you had gotten over yourself and more or less returned back to normal. You took the meeting card from today out of your pocket and bent it, snapped it into two halves and discarded them into the bin you walked past. You needed to forget this incident. Clipboard and laptop hooked onto an arm, you prodded at your updo then pulled at the hem of your white blazer. Gussying did help ground you back to reality in providing you with a sense of unfounded control.

“We aren’t going to take this lightly. We need to get to the bottom of this. Lau一Lau is going to ruin this place.”

Alarmed, John Blake grabbed your shoulder and wrenched your form to face him, stopping you in your tracks. He stared at your eyes scanning and darting his eyes around your face for any signs of whether you were serious or not. It dawned on him that dear god, you weren’t kidding at all. Before he could start on his tirade that the two of you couldn’t even dream of changing how things worked in this company, or the world for that matter, you shrugged yourself off his grip.

“Don’t you forget why you teamed up with me, John.” You raised your voice slightly.

“Don’t forget the reason you launched Blake Accounting Consultancy. Need I remind you of what you believe in?”

Jarred by your emotional declaration, he knew what you said were mere rhetorics. He noticed people were starting to stare at the commotion between the two of you, thus he resumed a slow walking pace with you. You kept observing his internal dilemma, noting the bobbing of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed, and how his perpetually furrowed brows deepened even more. You needed his help. And he needed yours. As your walking speed hastened back to normal, the people at the reception area took fleeting glances at your gait but never longer than needed. You took a short glimpse at your watch and signed out of the register with Blake.

The self-assured clacking of the heels on your pumps down the descent of the stone steps, marking the entrance of the imperial office building, was a pleasant familiarity to you, as it signaled the end of an exhausting work day. It was especially empowering on a Friday, such as this one. At the base of the steps you awaited his answer. Clearing his throat and adjusting his tie, he stepped onto the same level as you.

“Alright, you’ve convinced me. There’s no point in doing this,” he pointed between the two of you, “And our arrangement if we don’t do it right. You are my partner after all and you’re here to keep me from losing sight of what’s important. To the both of us.”

You smiled and felt the warmth blushing across your cheeks. Yes, he had hand picked you for this job and he was so confident you were the right one. You restrained your smile to revert back to a professional feminine composure and tilted your head coyly.

“Then I don’t need to tell you why we’re doing it the right way, do I?”

“For hope in the goodness of Gotham. This generation’s gotta do some cleaning up after our very thoughtful predecessors.”

The crinkle in his eye after he spoke was all the reassurance you needed. After being given a satisfactory answer, you gave him a knowing look and turned away from him as he began tapping hurriedly into his tablet. As undignified as John Blake could appear to be at times, you had to hand it to the man. He was worthy of your respect and had been nothing but an inspiration to you. The two of you shared more things in common than most and provided each other an intellectual challenge. Of course, mostly one thing was considered upon deciding on this mutually beneficial partnership in business. And it wasn’t because you two were sleeping with each other, despite common belief. Before you began walking again, you asked.

“What do you reckon our plan would be right now?”

Still fiddling with his tablet, he stalled on his answer for a few seconds. Clearly mapping something out in his head, you turned back to give him your full attention.

“We’re heading to Gotham National Bank. Let’s just say, there’s been minor speculation that it’s been involved in activities not short of... illicit. Yes, I suppose that’s how we’ll put it.”

He treaded carefully.

“Now, the companies we work for, both Gotham Press Holdings and Lau Holdings, have some shares in this bank. The catch is, it would be incredibly difficult to prove Lau’s activities as fraudulent.”

Seemingly defeated, Blake hung his head and rubbed the back of his neck. However, he peeked his eyes at the building in front of him, a smugness quirking at the corner of his lips.

“Fortunately for us, they didn’t call me a forensic accountant for nothing.”

Beaming at him, you grabbed at his forearm shaking it a few times, giddiness bubbling inside of you, before letting it go. For you, there was nothing but a mischievous glee, the kind that feels like icing on cake and splashing at beaches. All this for one shared vision. The two of you were visionaries. To this, his smile was that of happiness blooming as a spring flower would. You could see it coming from inside of him to the light of his eyes, and spreading across his chest. He was happy to see you filled with hope, and you could feel it in the way he spoke and the way he relaxed. It was nothing short of genuine. You bubbled up and joked around with him.

“John, frankly speaking, is this even legal?”

“It depends.”

You felt the excitement die down a little bit as you realised the seriousness in his tone. It was replaced by an uncomfortable premonition pervading your senses. You gave him a look, pressing him to tell you more.

“I meanㅡTechnically we could do this. We have enough authority to access banking information. The problem is if they come to know we had been snooping around.”

“Oh my god John are you really sure about this-”

“You just have to trust me, we have to take a risk. Just as I have taken a gamble on you. I have a plan.”

Your eyes widened at his statement. He was right, he couldn’t gain anything else from working with a hothead like you. He had taken a chance on you. What else did you have to offer to him? It was a sobering statement. After all, you did prove to be a handful in the meeting today, it was a pretty big mess up. You two could only have trust or you would have nothing. And you would hate to be a liability to him.

The two of you stared ahead at the streets, bustling with the cacophony produced by the city at midday traffic. The winds picked up, with fallen leaves and litter on the semi-empty street dancing to their own choreography. A chill ran down your spine, signalling the approach of nightfall. You both had decided then that it was best you get a move on to the bank before rush hour traffic befalls upon you.

###

The buildings galloped up where your sights could reach, Gotham National Bank standing out as a nostalgic hue of ivory, marbled with contours of magnificent antiquated architecture. Small fragments crumbled from the pillars encircling it, exalting it to an unmatched quality of regality as if there stood an ancient and historic piece of post-American Renaissance. This unusual lavishness caught the eye in the heart of Gotham. You both sauntered up the stone steps with a comfortable rhythm. The wooden framed glass doors pushed to the side as you both turned round the bend. The confidence you two shared initially was faltering as you realised the danger behind the work you were going to do.

The place reeked of opulence, a feeling of vastness with high ceilings, yet you still felt suffocated by the scent of luxury vanilla tobacco perfume. The air felt still and frigid, despite its warm rustic tones and yellow ceiling lights. You would never fall for this false allure and fabrication of a cozy and comfortable environment. It lulls you into a false sense of security. A carefully crafted institute that tries to evoke trust is nothing but lies. Money, whether little or a lot, is a source of stress in the lives of people after all. How the bank could portray themselves as anything but was beyond you. Your lips tightened as you walked to the bank tellers. Surprisingly the foyer was not as crowded as you had expected. It is well enough that the people of this city did not understand the banking and monetary system, for if they did, there would be a revolution by the next morning.

There was no line at the counter where you two were expected. John Blake regarded the bank teller with a tightlipped smile and firm handshake. You noticed Blake’s calloused hands, they weren’t too big and certainly did not look fitting for that of a white-collar accountant. He flashed his identification card from the companies you two were liaised with and requested to be granted permission for a thorough evaluation of their financial statements. Fingers crossed, you and Blake shared a look as the young man behind the desk studied the card in its holder skittishly. Clearly, he wasn’t experienced at all.

“Sir, I’m sorry but I think I would have to check with my superiors if I could authorise your entry into our systems.”

He brought a hand to his collar and nervously adjusted his tie around his neck. Your heart sank as you prepared yourself for the worst. Multiple scenarios rang through your head. They could be notified. You could be fired for attempting unauthorised entry into confidential records. Blake hurriedly reached into his coat pocket in a last-ditch attempt, stopping the young man from approaching higher-ups.

“We are directly associated with Mr. Lau of Lau Security Investments Holdings, and as the official Financial Advisor of Gotham Press Holdings and part of the directorial meeting board, we are granted perfect autonomy in ensuring and cross referencing the accuracy of our financial statements.”

John Blake maintained a stone cold composure, not a single crack in his facade, presenting a separate placeholder card from today’s meeting with the company stamp embossed on its surface. Although, upon closer inspection you could see him grip the sleeves of his dark blue suit in his folded arms. He could fool a silly junior bank teller, but not you unfortunately. You held your breath. Upon hearing the name of the CEO roll off his tongue, the young man inspected the card and his shoulders slackened a considerable amount. He cleared his voice.

“Of course. I will access the statements for you in just a minute.”

He began keying into the laptop in front of him and dialing numbers into his keypad. You suddenly remembered how to breathe as you let out a puff of air held in your lungs. In a wash of relief, you brought your hand to John’s back and gripped onto his suit reassuringly. You could see that he had his eyes downcast, his tight hold on his sleeves loosening. His jaw was still tight and jutted forward. You looked him in the eyes as he was vulnerable for a moment, you softened your gaze as if telling him something.

You don’t have to be so strong anymore.

It was a tough call. You could tell he was scared out of his wits. He didn’t like to lie, he didn’t like to use deceit. You two had abused your positions after all. You had taken advantage of the inexperience of the young man behind the desk. You were surprised he had done it at all. Hell, he had been the one who spontaneously suggested the idea anyway. You understood though. He had infracted his moral code for something bigger and more important. All this went unnoticed by the bank teller who was so engrossed in fumbling about with card keys and entering the right code. You smiled at John encouragingly.

To signal he was done, the bank teller turned his laptop around to face you two. The two of you stared into the records presented on screen. This was your golden opportunity. Blake gave you a look and nodded, and immediately you knew what to do. For him, all signs of remorse had dissipated like cotton candy on a tongue and his senses were on overdrive. The impressive work ethic of Blake had begun to override his emotions and you saw his propensity for achieving results.

You loaded the data into a thumb drive and jammed it back into your laptop. You processed the data with Microsoft SQL. This allowed you to store, read or manipulate the data. Then you loaded the data into Tableau to start data visualisation. Concurrently, you fetched a code for a machine learning algorithm you had worked on and were familiar with. You looked over at Blake as your computer was processing, chewing on your lips as he loaded a graph on his screen. He had been analysing the datasets provided by your company which you had prior access to.

Well, as can be expected, most transactions are non-fraudulent. To find evidence was like finding a needle in a haystack. But you were an expert at detecting outliers. For an imbalanced dataset, you needed to think out of the box. If you projected the sets into a scatter plot, you could visualise the clusters of fraudulent and non-fraudulent transactions. Bingo. You could generate synthetic samples from then on. However, all this prediction was meaningless without insights from Blake. Your work could only substantiate what he was able to find. You tried to make sense of the data and tugged at your hair, nervously shaking a leg. Seemingly in a state of distress, he tugged his hand on his chin with pressure increasing by the second. He was onto something.

When he was done, he shifted your laptop over to his side of the desk and compared both of your graphs and excel tables. After a grating amount of time, he let out a burning stream of air that was searing the walls of his lungs. He looked over at you and nodded solemnly. That meant only one thing, this was it, you guys had done it. You had proven Lau’s fraudulence. He instinctively leaned over to you, voice nothing more than a raspy whisper.

“In more than a few accounts, extra digits were added to the fees recorded.”

He gesticulated towards the data and scrolled in.

“For example here, if the fee initially recorded by the clerk was $5,234, a five was added to the first position reporting the fee as $55,234. In that single month, production fees were overstated by several hundred thousands of dollars. This explains why they could evade taxes so easily.”

You narrowed your eyes. He added more discernment to the situation, a form of scum reading if you will. Of course, he did so in hushed tones, to prevent the bank teller from catching on.

“Not to mention, the dates of the frauds you identified tie in and correlate heavily with reports of organised crime in Gotham.”

Your eyebrows raised and you snapped your head to look at him in disbelief. Never had you imagined things to be this bad. This was a massive case you had uncovered. Blake chuckled lowly, a slender brow quirked incredulously at you with mixed amusement. He was always one to be tickled by your over-dramatically animated reactions to things.

“Always on the ball, aren’t ya kid? Like a true siege machine. I couldn’t have done this without you. Excellent work.”

You felt your face heating up at this statement. You suddenly felt awkward. Your actions suddenly, not within your control, became demure and coy. You even went as far as to attempt to hide your features behind your fingers, as you brought a hand to your face. You hated it when this happened. You could never admit this to yourself. You had always put on a tough front for John. Yet no amount of training could prepare you for moments like this. You thrived on being able to impress him, to prove yourself worthy. That you were no mistake he made.

This revelation was nothing but a testament to the remarkable teamwork and chemistry you two had. It was nothing short of an incredible feat. Your skill sets heavily complemented each other, and your lines of thoughts and cognition heavily resonated together. You truly felt invincible at times with him. You could do anything with him. You could build an empire. You tasted something akin to victory on your tongue, despite not really having won anything yet. It felt like snowflakes had settled on your tongue, except instead of icy coldness you felt a sugary golden warmth. Blake had reached his arm around and patted you on your shoulder reservedly, denoting the conveyance of commendation from a coworker. Shrugging his hands off you, you sent him a sidelong glare for daring to interact with you on such a formal basis, as if you hadn’t skirted past a professional connection long ago.

Your attention was caught on your screen as you realised the data visualisation for Gotham Press Holdings was also complete. You realised that movements of funds to Lau Holdings had increased 342 percent for the past month. This was definitely a suspicious transaction that had gone unreported in the official financial statements. You dug deeper and deeper and you cursed at the power Lau had, and resolved to bring this up to the higher-ups at some point. The ire in realising your company had been pulled into Lau’s heinous mess tore through your chest like a claymore blade, and thoughts raced through your mind. Anger coursed through your veins like a lifeforce in and of itself, tugging at your fingers like puppet strings as they twitched involuntarily. Blake noticed this and called out your name. It was futile. You can’t listen to him like this. You wrenched your attention away from the screen and onto Blake in an attempt to explain the situation and―

Gunshots ripped through splitting the still air, its sound piercing like that of blithe firecrackers, a bangarang seeming to come from nowhere as screams of terror rang. You blinked, hands haphazardly thrown in front of you in reaction, a dulled instinct of your body lost years ago. You blinked again, and you were on the floor all of a sudden, not really sure how you had ended up there. You searched around with your pupils, registering that Blake had an arm tugged around your shoulders and another pulling at your white sleeves. You peeked upwards furtively through the curtains of your hair framing your face, trembling with your chin strained against your sternum to watch men clad in suits with frightening clown masks run through the space.

“Alright everybody, heads down! I said hands up, I’m makin’ a withdrawal here!”

To you, the man had the most venomous voice you’ve heard, straight from the depths of hell. You squeezed your eyes shut, not daring to stare at them as if it were a mortal sin that would grant you the eternal punishment of death if you did. It was a long time ago when you had last been placed in such a compromising situation, since the Batman had taken to cleaning the streets. You forgot the feeling of fear. It was almost invigorating in a sense. This was life on the edge as you know it.

“Obviously we don’t want you doin’ anything with your hands, other than holdin’ on for dear life!”

These words didn’t really mean much to you. Just jumbled sloppy threats, obviously unplanned and entropic in nature. Perhaps they didn’t mean exactly what they were saying. Yet this frightened you so much more. Clowns were unpredictable. You thought back on the various cirques and circuses you had patronised in the past, remembering the many archetypal clown personas they assumed. Their traditional slapstick humour, mischief in demeanor always put you on edge. You never knew what tricks they might pull on you, they were masterful tricksters. You saw the clown pass what looked like a grenade-shaped time bomb to the man at the counter next to you. An epileptic meditation swept over you, foreshadowing the prelude of a nervous collapse. Blake pulled you closer into his form upon seeing the time bomb, caging his arms around you. You were unsure if he did this to comfort you or if it was for his self-reassurance.

“Nobody make a move! Nobody! Stay down!”

One of them lazily swung his gun around, uncaring as he pointed wherever a group of people clambered. You huffed. Clowns and their general nonchalance, clearly exaggerated in their movements. What is this little regard they had for human life? What is human life to them?

You continued watching a clown terrorise a blonde woman behind the counter. You heard an internal time bomb ticking, echoing away as the dissonance of razors on violin strings bled through your ears. The icy fingers of apprehension wrapped tightly around your spine, much like the way Blake held you, they tugged at your bones until they felt ready to tear past your flesh.

Bang!

You jerked your head and out of John Blake’s grasp. You saw an explosive shattering of glass from the main counter which was encircled by a glass and wood partition. The gunswinger had been taken down. A man in a grey suit, who you recognised as the head bank teller, wielded a powerful shotgun. You pressed your wrists together, you still had a fighting chance. This man was a glimmer of hope for the victims. He shot a couple more shells at another clown, but he missed all of them. He let out a yell. You bit down on your bottom lip, nails digging crescent shapes further into your palm. He exuded a sense of confidence and self-assuredness, with an upright posture and puff in his chest unbefitting for someone who has to sit the entire day for his job. He trudged onwards with his mighty steps with more pumps of his shotgun, a masculine energy that was striking enough. You felt a collective sense of relief from the other victims as you all rooted for him in silence.

“You have any idea who you’re stealin’ from? You and your friends are dead!”

You pondered this statement from the grey suited man. What kind of threat was this? It was a minor detail that you could be overthinking. It was definitely out of the ordinary for a generic banker to say something like this. But it all makes sense now, especially with everything Blake had led you to believe, and the realisation dawned upon you. This was indeed a mob bank. And believe that no one who robs a mob bank leaves alive. You started laughing at yourself internally, perhaps you were going insane. Oh how the tables have turned, the only salvation in this situation was that a member of the mob was your only hope in escaping this place alive. It was a bitter realisation, you cursed the irony in the situation. Perhaps Lau had indirectly saved your life, given his ties to organised crime.

You saw the two clowns regroup and discuss something. You noticed that one of them hadn’t spoken the whole time since their arrival, and simply nodded his head fervently at the other. He wore a clown mask that had a blue frown. You recognised him as the one who handed out and unhooked the time bombs. You narrowed your eyes at him. He was too quiet.

The man with the shotgun had missed his last shot as the other clown, the one with the spiked hair, stood up. It seemed that he had emptied the barrel of his shotgun, and fumbled with it within his hands. Oh no. Blake had sunken backwards further into the floor. In a split second, what hope you held onto swiftly dwindled down, you saw some of the other terrorised folks’ faces fall as you let go of your closed fists, the heat of the blood rushing through doing nothing to warm up your cold and clammy hands.

The clown with the blue frown took advantage of this and swiftly stood up, with a sort of careless grace that was strangely unique. Idiosyncratic even, how could that man possess a quirk so paradoxical and contradictory in every sense of the word? He fired a flurry of shots and the man wielding the shotgun shook violently, falling to the floor in an undignified manner with the clinking of bullets ringing onto the floor.

The clown quirked his head to the side with his eyes trained on the fallen man with mild intrigue, almost in lackadaisical amusement. It was patronising, frankly. A mockery of a quizzical look. It reminded you of the morbid fascination the beautiful people had shown you earlier today. Your face twisted into a snarl. Your gut was right about this man. He was dangerous, not your average goon. He looked like he did this on the regular for fun.

The clown with the spiked hair squabbled with him over something that seemed to be important. But he still said nothing. He stayed while the other clown left to head to where you presumed to be the vault. He walked down the aisles between desks with leisurely footsteps, and a relaxed hunch in his posture that looked feigned. He swung his arms around his body candidly, like how one would on a leisurely stroll when you were out on a boring trip with your family. His masked eyes swiped across every gentle shadow the room forged. He was extremely observant. More so than the rest, as he constantly took note of the surroundings and mapped the location out. However, he only gave passing glances to the people on the floor, as if they weren’t really there at all. He didn’t seem to care at all that he was, as a matter of fact, carrying out a godforsaken bank heist right this very moment. Was this a joke to him?

Nothing could dissipate this horrible feeling you had about this man, how gut-wrenching it felt to be in his presence. You tried to stare at John Blake covertly, trying to search if he had found out a way to get out of this mess alive. But he had his eyes trained forward and hands gripping at the floor tiles, seemingly paralysed with fear after the man with the mask walked past you two. The man looked at his watch, with an unreal sense of patience. You tried to get Blake’s attention, but it was no use. He was scared stiff. You dared not move as you were sure that the clown would have no qualms shooting you then and there. You observed as he turned his back to you, and you noticed he had messily dyed, faded green hair. You craned your head. What kind of twisted criminal was this...?

The spiked hair masked clown returned with many navy duffel bags, some on his shoulders and some dragged across the marble floor. The other clown lugged a couple bags along, pooling them at the center of the back entrance, in front of three wooden framed glass doors.

“That’s a lot of money!” The spiked hair clown jibed, clearly in greed. “If this Joker guy was so smart, he’d had us bring a bigger car!”

The clown with the blue frown turned his back to the other clown. Immediately when he did this, a heavy clicking noise was heard. You noticed a sort of hesitance in his movements, realising he had made a mistake. The other clown had turned on him, reloaded his handgun and pointed it straight at his back. The air was tense. He slowly turned his head to face him again, almost defensively so that he wouldn’t trigger the other clown to make any rash decisions.

“I’m bettin’ the Joker told you to kill me as soon as we loaded the cash.”

The hand holding the gun was quivering. Whatever game it was that they were playing, it was dangerous. You noticed the two of them were the only clowns left. Whoever this ‘Joker’ person they talked about was, he was calculative. He managed to turn them all on each other, and they weeded each other out. The man with the frown pulled back his sleeve to check his watch, and grumbled. His life was on the line and he was still playing games. Your brows tightened. Enough of this feigned indifference.

“No, no, no, no. I kill the bus... Driver.”

This was the first time he spoke this whole time. He sounded like how a real clown possibly would. A raspy timbre from years of smoking and a nasally tone in wry jest. At the corner of your eyes, you saw the fallen bank teller try to turn his body, but to no avail. He seemed affected by this statement, for reasons unknown. The clown side-stepped, out of the gun’s line of sight.

“Bus driver?”

The man holding the gun delayedly tracked him with his gun, stepping backwards tentatively in tandem with the other clown. The clown continued stepping to the side, acting defenseless with his hands in front of his waist as a gesture of nonaggression despite holding a gun, to cajole the other man. They kept at a distance apart and circled each other. The clown with the frown cocked his head to the side as he stepped, as though in confusion at the situation at hand. However, it felt unnatural to you. This simple act was definitely deliberate. You could almost see the gears turning in his head. Whatever it was, he was cold and calculated. Every one of his actions seemed carefully thought out and he did not do pointless things. He only spoke when absolutely necessary. Every move he has made thus far, he had done so with intention and purpose.

The air hung with uncertainty. Blake, seeming to have regained his senses with this distraction, turned his body to face you. The man with the gun grew impatient with this lack of an answer and he shook his head.

“What bus drive-”

In the blink of an eye, the wooden frames of the doors burst apart and glass flew everywhere. A yellow school bus had crashed through the gates like a battering ram. It drove directly into where the clown holding the gun stood and at break-neck speed, knocked him out cold. The bank was silent at that moment, not really knowing how to register or react to this turn of events. John Blake forced your attention on him and took full advantage of this distraction, whispering to you.

“Whatever happens, when this is over make a run for it. Through that hole in the wall.”

You gave a grunt of acknowledgement. The door slid open to reveal another goon with a clown mask.

“School’s out, time to go. That guy’s not gettin’ up, is he?”

Not one for small talk, the clown with the frown threw him the duffel bags to load them into the bus. The other clown continued jibing in excitement, especially after seeing how many filled bags of cash they had to toss into the bus. He threw the last duffel bag at him. Having just arrived, the talkative man clearly did not understand the circumstances that had led to this point. You felt bad for him as he seemed naive.

“What happened to the rest of the guys?”

Without even looking at him, the clown with the blue frown offhandedly shot him with a round of bullets. You squeezed your eyes shut. You could not get used to this nasty sound. He did not even give him the time of day. Not a single care in the world. He ambled past you again to pull the last duffel bag and tossed it into the bus. The question of why he always gave this impression of detachment from the reality in front of you remains unanswered.

“Think you’re smart huh?”

He pulled his hand onto the edges of the doorframe and was about to climb into the bus, but he turned around. Perhaps this was not a part of his calculations. He had one foot on the steps, but pulled his foot back down and adjusted his mask to stare at who it was daring enough to speak up to him. The bank teller struggled and floundered on the ground, coughing and sputtering. He curled into himself even more, much like a fetus would, looking absolutely pathetic. He was fighting back a grimace on his face.

“The kind that hired youseㅡThey’ll just do the same to you…”

The masked man’s interest was seemingly piqued by his speech of open defiance. He brought his arm behind his back into his back pocket and staggered across the floor. That couldn’t-care-less grace acted again, his attention wavering as his gaze flitted between the man on the floor and the surroundings. He pulled something out of his pocket. You could not recognise what the object was.

No, why couldn’t you have just kept your mouth shut?

“Oh, criminals in this town used to believe in things… Honour, respect.”

The bank teller spat. The masked man continued walking and stopped before him, imposing. There was a momentous promise in his gravity, a hint of catastrophe in the tilt of his head. He bent down and crouched to the fallen man’s level, bringing the object to his face.

“Look at you. What do you believe in huh? WHAT DO YOU BELIEVE IN?”

He shouted the last statement, blood-curdling and grinding around the edges. It seemed to be a last final effort display of dominance, his ego refusing to allow him to submit before he was stifled and his words fell off with a gagging noise. The man had shoved a black cylindrical device into his mouth. You felt the same internal razors on violins escalate in intensity, and your heart constricted with the crescendo.

“I believe,”

The masked man started, this time his voice different, sounding smooth like butter. It felt like a balmy breeze sending chills down your spine, wrapping around your neck with smooth fingers. It was laced with an anarchic menace.

“Whatever doesn’t kill you simply makes you,”

He removed his mask, and looked to the side. Then, he looked down at him again. No one amongst you could comprehend what they were looking at. The violins had reached its loudest forte, and in a thunderous roar it came crashing down. He gave a slight twist of his head.

“Stranger.”

His tone shifted and he uttered that last word with his nasally rasp instead. His eyebrows lifted a fraction off his face, in mock honesty. He smiled and withdrew quickly, vanishing away from the scene like a shadowy wraith.

“Kid, run.” Blake urged. You just stared at that spot where the apparition appeared.

You had just seen a ghost.

Silly little girl. Maybe there is a ghost, maybe... It’s only you.

“Hey, are ya listening? Get ready.”

He was a phantom. You could not scratch off this disturbing feeling about him. Thousands of spiders had crawled up your arms to reach your face, paralysing you in your wake as dread was siphoned into your head, numbing your brain. No matter how much you gouged and clawed at your skin, the arachnids could not be torn off. You thought back on his face. He was soaked in nothing but pure malice, doused as if an arsonist had poured gasoline on him. You saw him enter the bus and slid the door shut, a cord extending from the back of his pocket to the man still on the floor. Your eyes focused onto the black cylindrical gadget in his mouth

Alarmed, you snapped out of it.

It finally occurred to you, this man was about to die. This man who valiantly fought for you people and tried to save the bank. You didn’t care at this point if he was part of the Mafia or whatever blasted gang it was that ran about in Gotham. He was a citizen of Gotham, no less than you. You broke free of the grasps of the arachnids, and stood up and ran to the center of the back entrance, heels clicking sharply against the cold floor. Blake watched your back in horror, swapping glances between you and the yellow school bus which hadn’t left. You could feel gazes of scrutiny, all unsure of what to think of your spur-of-the-moment effort.

You had to do something about this. You made up your mind, there’s no convincing you out of this. Not even from Blake.

What about me?

The ghost flashed in your mind.

You ran so fast, when you stopped in front of him you felt the whiplash of inertia propelling you further. Snapping out of it, you bent down in front of him and tried to yank the butt of what was in his mouth. You looked him in the eyes, noticing how wide and blue they were, and they were close to watering. You frowned, tears threatening to break at the corner of your own eyes. You felt as helpless as he did as you were unable to pry the object out of his mouth.

You attempted again, trying to attack it from a different angle. You tried to ignore and dull the twinging sensation pricking your nose. Your brows pinched upwards bridging at a peak, your methods administered were to no avail. The man looked at you as if his life flashed before his eyes. You can’t give up on him. Not with the way he practically stared into your soul.

“Hey, listen to me alright. We will get you out.”

Your voice was shaky. You stared into his eyes with determination. You observed how his mouth curved around the object. His jaw was like a vice in a workshop space clamping on tightly to the object. A vice was made of metal however.

“Okay, this is going to hurt. But don’t you worry it will work.”

You used your fingers to pick up the drool lapping around his mouth. Then, with the warning you gave him prior, you forcefully jammed your lubricated fingers into the sides of the entrance of his mouth. He let out a long and drawn out moan of pain as you hooked your fingers around the foreign object, wrangling it out of his mouth, feeling the scrape of his teeth against your fingers and the smooth walls behind the hollows of his cheek.

At long last, you trawled the object. However, while you held it triumphantly in your hands, the bus had driven off with a force that pulled you backwards slightly. You felt the string dislodge and it released a noxious gas that bellowed columns like thickets around you and the bank teller. The small dose had proven to be debilitating, and you coughed and moved your hand to cover your nose. It burned. In a swift motion, you tossed the smoke bomb to the other end of the room, something you should have done long ago.

That’s too bad then. Maybe next time.

You collapsed onto the ground from the strong inhale of the gas that filled your lungs, finding it difficult to get back on your feet. It scorched your air passages. You heard the sound of hurried and loud footsteps frantically pounding against the floor tiles as the people were running towards the hole in the wall. You tried to grab onto the man to lug him as you crawled, but it soon proved to be difficult. You cursed as you lost your strength.

However, before you knew it, you were suddenly hoisted onto the shoulders of a man, your upper torso hanging down his back. Disoriented and sputtering in anguish, tears clouded your vision as you tried to spot the bank teller and you yelled.

“Someone-help the man who was shot!”

“Still worryin’ about him at a time like this? Not sure if that’s very smart of you.”

This voice was unfamiliar. You couldn’t recognize it. The man who carried you was running towards the entrance and you felt this in the bob of your torso. You knocked your arms frantically at his lower back, though it probably felt quite pathetic given your current state.

“Relax, relax. Someone else’s got him.”

You relented upon hearing that, and thanked him for telling you that. As you exited the building you looked forward and your vision was blurry, however you could make out Blake catching up to you. He held a stack of laptops and tablets. He was panting and when he made it, he caught your hand and clasped it in his. This reassured you. You felt a little safer.

The adrenaline was draining out of your system quickly. The lightheaded fatigue was settling in. You felt like you were in a bad dream. The sounds of traffic and sirens whirred past you in a blur, sounding louder than they should have. You felt the comings of a migraine swallow around your head. It almost felt like your world was spinning, and you just wanted to sit down.

The recoils in the steps were too much. Your stomach lurched, and you clutched at your mouth. You tried looking at Blake, but you couldn’t see him. He looked ghoulish. Like a creature of the underworld.

He lurked under a veil of alabaster, blotted onto his canvas were two black cavernous holes gouged in place of his eyes, deep like the plunge basins of a calamitous waterfall, one that roared with stygian ink. But this was perhaps not the most terrifying part about him.

You saw a bright spark in front of your eyes, unsure of what was happening. Blake squeezed your palm even tighter. It must’ve been the bombs from earlier going off.

His grin extended far beyond the realms of what would be normal, unsettling and sinister as a macabre smile was carved deep into his white flesh, dripping blood red over ridges and grooves that swirled and curved along the sides of his mouth, peaks pushed together and formed after millenniums of cataclysmic terrain shifts.

You gave Blake’s hand a crushing grip. Anything to snap out of this terror.

When he grinned he revealed a set of discoloured teeth, yellowed and rancid with dread, the earth no longer fertile and only bore fruits of death.

All of a sudden, you could see and you saw people gathered around, safe and sound. Blake had a concerned expression.

You sniggered inwardly, looks like that clown had a miscalculation in his steps. All the small victories mattered to you. The running had stopped and the feeling of vertigo had been alleviated slightly, but was not gone completely. The man set you down as you slumped heavily against the sidewalk. You looked around you and you were suffocated by the imposing high rise buildings of Gotham City.

“Hey, look―About that comment regardin’ the man who was shot…”

You steeled yourself to stare at the man who saved your life, pushing past how dizzy looking up made you feel.

“Look, I’m sorry about that alright. If you hadn’t done that… Then perhaps others like me wouldn’ta done what’s right.”

Still in a state of befuddlement, you stared at him blankly. Slowly, you registered the meaning of his statement and a blush crept over your cheeks.

“That’s really all I have to say. Uh, thank you, I guess.”

With that, your mystery saviour left you with Blake. You wished you had at least been in the right mind enough to ask for the man’s name. John Blake skirted around you and supported your weight as he sat beside you. He smirked at the ground, an unreadable look in his downcast eyes.

“You know kid, I really hate to admit this to you. And I’m only really saying this because you’re in this sorry state.”

He flicked your forehead with his fingers. You reeled backwards and patted your hand across the area where he inflicted his damage.

“That was pretty damn badass of you back there. But you could have died.”

Groggily, this barely registered in your head, and your head lolled about, the motion lulling you into a dream. You were out, and your head rested against Blake’s shoulder. Alarmed, he recalled that you had taken a direct hit from the smoke bomb. He had to act fast.

“Guess we have to drag your sorry ass to the hospital.”

He stared forward at the ambulances arriving, dragged your arm across his shoulders and tightened his grip on you, preparing to lift you over there. Before the ambulances stopped, he looked motionless at the ground. He felt an uneasy sense of discomfort build within his chest. What had he done in that whole debacle? Looked on at the sidelines like a sitting duck?

A word rang in his mind over and over again like the sirens coming close.

Coward.

He shook his head and rubbed his chin. He hated nothing more than the feeling of uselessness. He always wanted to contribute something, he shifted his gaze to look at you. He was stunned by the display of courage and compassion. You outdid him in your generosity. He couldn’t even do anything to save you, for crying out loud. The look in his eyes wavered, full of convoluted emotion. One thing’s for sure, he was clearly disappointed in himself.

You performed way better than he had expected in the data interpretation too. He had indeed found a diamond in the rough.

Kid, if you could realise your potential on your own…

He tried to smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

He thought back on the words spoken by the man who saved you. Your kind act has unknowingly inspired others. Your compassion and spurred on further acts of compassion. He was right. This strengthened his hope and belief in the people of Gotham. This city was worth fighting for. Fighting the conflict that reigned over his emotions, he had to arrive at a resolve.

Sighing, he muttered a curse under his breath. Then, he hoisted you up and staggered over to the paramedics.

###

Flinging the mask to the side, he emptied his gloved hand and saw it lightly bounce against a cushioned bus seat. Then he turned around to wind the doors shut. He looked down to observe the duffel bags, roughly gauging if this heist alone was enough for him. He was hoping that he wouldn’t need to carry out another heist for a long time. He stared at the shotgun he held in his other glove. A very useful trinket he snatched from today’s heist. What a steal, he thought to himself. He was about to jump over the duffel bags to head to the driver’s seat but something caught his eye as he peered out the frosted glass pane.

A girl? What is she doing?

She bent down facing the wasted bank teller and tried pulling at the cylinder in his mouth. He observed with light boredom, unimpressed by her antics. He jammed the smoke bomb far too deep into the vice grip of his jaw. There was no use, really.

Foolish little girl.

She re-angled herself, to get a better grip on the smoke bomb. He could discern her appearance from this view. She wore a white coat and had her hair tied up in some type of bun? What did she think she was, some type of doctor? This ticked him off. He narrowed his eyes. While he was making a pretty baseless assumption about a random girl in a bank, it couldn’t change the fact that his first impression of her was that she was a healthcare worker.

He stretched his lips, jutting his jaw forward. For some reason, this made him irrationally annoyed. He never did like healthcare workers. Doctors and nurses are perhaps among some of the most prestigious jobs in society today, and have been for pretty much the entirety of history and human civilisation. As the front lines combating disease, they are often lauded and praised as heroes for their sacrifices, saving lives while putting their own lives on the line. They give up many things for their medical careers.

This was laughable. He gave a snort, how funny is it that everyone reveres and idolises the motivations of such people. As if they were actual messengers from the divine being, God himself. What they don’t realise is that people lie. They always do. They always say that they’re mainly doing it for altruistic purposes, because they feel fulfilled saving other people. As if prestige and money aren’t a thing. No one truly wants to be a pawn in war.

He licked his lips and peered down at the naive girl. There will come a time when she realises that helping others is asinine. The reasons for which she has to learn on her own. She will only be weak the more she believes her morals to be better than everyone else’s.

And weakness only disgusts him.

He rolled his eyes watching her fail yet again. This was a waste of his time, people really love doing pointless things. We live in an amusing world. He paid her no more heed.

“Doctors and nurses are not heroes.”

With that, he braced his hands on the seats lining both sides of the aisles, hoisting himself over the haphazardly strewn hoard of duffel bags to the other side. His cable extended further from his back pocket, the sound lightly scraping the shell of his ears. He clambered into the driver’s seat and landed unceremoniously as his limbs were thrown forward at the impact. He shifted forward, widened his palms and then scrunched his fingers as he searched around for the engine start. After pulling the knob, he smacked both of his hands carelessly on the steering wheel. He shook his head a few times and sighed.

“At the end of the day, they’ll always be martyred against their will.”

#joker #Heath Ledger Joker #ledger joker #ledger!joker x reader #the dark knight

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